[Note from the etext editor: The original page scans used to create thistext were illegible in places; the notation [illegible] has been used inthe text to indicate these places. Additionally, Chapter XIV was missingfrom both the table of contents and the book; presumably this is aprinting error as opposed to an actual missing chapter. ]

AWFUL DISCLOSURES, By

MARIA MONK, Of the

HOTEL DIEU NUNNERY OF MONTREAL. 

Containing, also, Many Incidents Never Before Published. 

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 

This volume embraces not only my "Awful Disclosures, " but a continuationof my Narrative, giving an account of events after my escape from theNunnery, and of my return to Montreal to procure a legal investigationof my charges. It also [illegible] all the testimony that has beenpublished against me, or every description, as well as that which hasbeen given in confirmation of my story. At the close, will be found aReview of the whole Subject, furnished by a gentleman well qualified forthe purpose; and finally, a copious Appendix, giving further particularsinteresting to the public. 

I present this volume to the reader, with feelings which, I trust, willbe in some degree appreciated when it has been read and reflected upon. A hasty perusal, and an imperfect apprehension of its contents, cannever produce such impressions as it has been my design to make by thestatements I have laid before the world. I know that misapprehensionsexist in the minds of some virtuous people. I am not disposed to condemntheir motives, for it does not seem wonderful that in a pure state ofsociety, and in the midst of Christian families, there should be personswho regard the crimes I have mentioned as too monstrous to believed. Itcertainly is creditable to American manners and character, that thepeople are inclined, at the first sight, to turn from my story withhorror. 

There is also an excuse for those who, having received only a generalimpression concerning the nature of my Disclosures, question thepropriety of publishing such immorality to the world. They fear that theminds of the young, at least, may be polluted. To such I have to say, that this objection was examined and set aside, long before they had anopportunity to make it. I solemnly believe it is necessary to informparents, at least, that the ruin from which I have barely escaped, liesin the way of their children, even if delicacy must be in some degreewounded by revealing the fact. I understand the case, alas! from toobitter experience. Many an innocent girl may this year be exposed to thedangers of which I was ignorant. I am resolved, that so far as dependson me, not one more victim shall fall into the hands of those enemies inwhose power I so lately have been. I know what it is to be under thedominion of Nuns and Priests; and I maintain, that it is a far greateroffence against virtue and decency to conceal than to proclaim theircrimes. Ah! had a single warning voice even whispered to me a word ofcaution--had even a gentle note of alarm been sounded to me, it mighthave turned back my foot from the Convent when it was upon thethreshold! If, therefore, there is any one now bending a step that way, whom I have, not yet alarmed, I will cry _beware!_

But the virtuous reader need not fear, in the following pages, to meetwith vice presented in any dress but her own deformity. No one canaccuse me of giving a single attraction to crime. On the contrary, Iintend my book shall be a warning to those who may hereafter be temptedby vice; and with the confidence that such it will prove to be, Icommend it to the careful examination of virtuous parents, and amwilling to abide by their unbiased opinion, with regard both to mytruth, my motives, and the interest which the public have in thedevelopments it contains. 

I would now appeal to the world, and ask, whether I have not done allthat could have been expected of me, and all that lay in my power, tobring to an investigation the charges I have brought against the priestsand nuns of Canada. Although it was necessary to the cause of truth, that I should, in some degree, implicate myself, I have not hesitated toappear as a voluntary self-accuser before the world. While there was ahope that the authorities in Canada might be prevailed upon to bring thesubject to a legal investigation, I travelled to Montreal in a feeblestate of health, and with an infant in my arms only three weeks old. Inthe face of many threats and dangers, I spent nearly a month in thatcity, in vain attempts to bring my cause to a trial. When all prospectof success in this undertaking had disappeared, and not till then, Idetermined to make my accusations through the press; and althoughmisrepresentations and scandals, flattery and threats, have beenresorted to, to nullify or to suppress my testimony, I have persevered, although, as many of my friends have thought, at the risk of abductionor death. 

I have, I think, afforded every opportunity that could be reasonablyexpected, to judge of my credibility. I have appealed to the existenceof things in the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, as the great criterion of the truthof my story. I have described the apartments, and now, in this volume, have added many further particulars, with such a description of them asmy memory has enabled me to make. I have offered, in case I should beproved an impostor, to submit to any punishment which may be proposed--even to a re-delivery into the hands of my bitterest enemies, to sufferwhat they may please to inflict. 

Now, in these circumstances, I would ask the people of the UnitedStates, whether my duty has not been discharged? Have I not done what Iought--to inform and to alarm them? I would also solemnly appeal to theGovernment of Great Britain, under whose guardianship is the provinceoppressed by the gloomy institution from which I have escaped, and askwhether such atrocities ought to be tolerated, and even protected by anenlightened and Christian power? I trust the hour is near, when the densof the Hotel Dieu will be laid open--when the tyrants who have pollutedit will be brought out, with the wretched victims of their oppressionand crimes. 

CONTENTS

 * * * * *

CHAPTER I. 

Early Life--Religious Education neglected--First School--Entrance intothe School of the Congregational Nunnery--Brief Account of the Nunneriesin Montreal--The Congregational Nunnery--The Black Nunnery--The GreyNunnery--Public Respect for these Institutions--Instruction Received--The Catechism--The Bible

CHAPTER II. 

Story told by a fellow Pupil against a Priest--Other Stories--PrettyMary--Confess to Father Richards--My subsequent Confessions--Left theCongregational Nunnery

CHAPTER III. 

Preparations to become a Novice in the Black Nunnery--Entrance--Occupations of the Novices--The Apartments to which they had Access--First Interview with Jane Ray--Reverence for the Superior--Her Reliques--The Holy Good Shepherd, or nameless Nun--Confession of Novices

CHAPTER IV. 

Displeased with the Convent--Left it--Residence at St. Denis--Reliques--Marriage--Return to the Black Nunnery--Objections made by some Novices--Ideas of the Bible

CHAPTER V. 

Received Confirmation--Painful Feelings--Specimen of Instructionreceived on the Subject

CHAPTER VI. 

Taking the Veil--Interview afterward with the Superior--Surprise andhorror at her Disclosures--Resolution to Submit

CHAPTER VII. 

Daily Ceremonies--Jane Ray among the Nuns

CHAPTER VIII. 

Description of Apartments in the Black Nunnery, in order. --1st Floor--2dFloor--The Founder--Superior's Management with the Friends of Novices--Religious Lies--Criminality of concealing Sins at Confession

CHAPTER IX. 

Nuns with similar names--Squaw Nuns--First visit to the Cellar--Description of it--Shocking discovery there--Superior's Instructions--Private Signal of the Priests--Books used in the Nunnery--Opinionsexpressed of the Bible--Specimens of what I know of the Scriptures

CHAPTER X. 

Manufacture of Bread and Wax Candles carried on in the Convent--Superstitions--Scapularies--Virgin Mary's pincushion--Her House--TheBishop's power over fire--My Instructions to Novices--Jane Ray--Vaccillation of feelings

CHAPTER XI. 

Alarming Order from the Superior--Proceed to execute it--Scene in anupper Room--Sentence of Death, and Murder--My own distress--Reports madeto friends of St. Francis

CHAPTER XII. 

Description of the Room of the Three States, and the pictures in it--Jane Ray ridiculing Priests--Their criminal Treatment of us atConfession--Jane Ray's Tricks with the Nuns' Aprons, Handkerchiefs, andNightgowns--Apples

CHAPTER XIII. 

Jane Ray's Tricks continued--The Broomstick Ghost--Sleep-walking--SaltedCider--Changing Beds--Objects of some of her Tricks--Feigned Humility--Alarm--Treatment of a new Nun--A nun made by stratagem

CHAPTER XV. 

Influencing Novices--Difficulty of convincing persons from the UnitedStates--Tale of the Bishop in the City--The Bishop in the Convent--ThePrisoners in the Cells--Practice in Singing--Narratives--Jane Ray'sHymns--The Superior's best Trick

CHAPTER XVI. 

Frequency of the Priests' Visits to the Nunnery--Their Freedom andCrimes--Difficulty of learning their Names--Their Holy Retreat--Objections in our minds--Means used to counteract Conscience--IngeniousArguments

CHAPTER XVII. 

Treatment of young Infants in the Convent--Talking in Sleep--Amusements--Ceremonies at the public interment of deceased Nuns--Suddendisappearance of the Old Superior--Introduction of the new one--Superstition--Alarm of a Nun--Difficulty of Communication with otherNuns

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Disappearance of Nuns--St. Pierre--Gags--My temporary Confinement in aCell--The Cholera Season--How to avoid it--Occupations in the Conventduring the Pestilence--Manufacture of War Candles--The Election Riots--Alarm among the Nuns--Preparations for defence--Penances

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Priests of the District of Montreal have free access to the BlackNunnery--Crimes committed and required by them--The Pope's command tocommit indecent Crimes--Characters of the Old and New Superiors--Thetimidity of the latter--I began to be employed in the Hospitals--Someaccount of them--Warning given me by a sick Nun--Penance by Hanging

CHAPTER XX. 

More visits to the imprisoned Nuns--Their fears--Others temporarily putinto the Cells--Reliques--The Agnus Dei--The Priests' private Hospital, or Holy Retreat--Secret Rooms in the Eastern Wing--Reports of Murders inthe Convent--The Superior's private Records--Number of Nuns in theConvent--Desire of Escape--Urgent reason for it--Plan--Deliberation--Attempt--Success

CHAPTER XXI. 

At liberty--Doubtful what to do--Found refuge for the night--Disappointment--My first day out of the Convent--Solitude--Recollections, fears, and plans

CHAPTER XXII. 

Start for Quebec--Recognised--Disappointed again--Not permitted to land--Return to Montreal--Landed and passed through the city before day--Lachine Canal--Intended close of my life

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Awake among strangers--Dr. Robertson--Imprisoned as a vagrant--Introduction to my mother--Stay in her house--Removal from it to Mrs. McDonald's--Return to my mother's--Desire to get to New York--Arrangements for going

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Singular concurrence of circumstances, which enabled me to get to theUnited States--Intentions in going there--Commence my journey--Fears ofmy companion--Stop at Whitehall--Injury received in a canal boat--Arrival at New York--A solitary retreat

CHAPTER XXV. 

Reflections and sorrow in solitude--Night--Fears--Exposure to rain--Discovered by strangers--Their unwelcome kindness--Taken to the BellevueAlmshouse. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Reception at the Almshouse--Message from Mr. Conroy, a Roman priest inNew York--His invitations to a private interview--His claims, propositions, and threats--Mr. Kelly's message--Effects of reading theBible

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Proposition to go to Montreal and testify against the priests--Commencement of my journey--Stop at Troy, Whitehall, Burlington, St. Alban's, Plattsburgh, and St. John's--Arrival at Montreal--Reflectionson passing the Nunnery. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Received into a hospitable family--Fluctuating feelings--Visits fromseveral persons--Father Phelan's declarations against me in his church--Interviews with a Journeyman Carpenter--Arguments with him

CHAPTER XXIX. 

A Milkman--An Irishwoman--Difficulty in having my Affidavit taken--Legalobjection to it when taken

CHAPTER XXX. 

Interview with the Attorney General of the Province--Attempt to abductme--More interviews--A mob excited against me--Protected by twosoldiers--Convinced that an investigation of my charges could not beobtained--Departure from Montreal--Closing reflections The truth of thework demonstrated

APPENDIX--Reception of the work--Affidavits--Criticisms of the press, &c. 

PREFACE. 

Here is the reprint of one of the most formidable books againstNunneries ever published. It has produced powerful impressions abroad, as well as in the United States, and appears destined to have stillgreater results. It is the simple narrative of an uneducated andunprotected female, who escaped from the old Black Nunnery of Montreal, or Hotel Dieu, and told her tale of sufferings and horrors, withoutexaggeration or embellishment. Though assailed by all the powers of theRomish priesthood, whom she accused, and by the united influence of theNorth American press, which, with very small exceptions, was thenunenlightened by the discoveries of the present day, the book remainsunimpeached, and still challenges the test of fair and open examination. 

Many an American female, no doubt, is now living, who might justlyacknowledge that she was saved from exposure to the suffering, or eventhe ruin, often the consequences of a Convent education, by thedisinterested warning given in this book; while its author, disheartenedat length by the powerful combination of Protestants and Papists againsther, led to distrust even the few who remained her friends, destitute ofthe means of living, and alternately persecuted and tempted by her everwatchful and insidious enemies, died some years since, undercondemnation (whether just or unjust) for one of the slightest of thecrimes which she had charged against them--thus falling at last theirvictim. 

American parents have here a book written for the salvation of theirdaughters; American patriots, one designed to secure society against oneof the most destructive but insidious institutions of popery; Americanfemales, an appeal to them of the most solemn kind, to beware ofConvents, and all who attempt to inveigle our unsuspecting daughtersinto them, by the secret apparatus of Jesuit schools. The author of thisbook was a small, slender, uneducated, and persecuted young woman, whosought refuge in our country without a protector; but she showed theresolution and boldness of a heroine, in confronting her powerfulenemies in their strong hold, and proved, by the simple force of truth, victorious in the violent conflicts which were waged against her by theRomish hierarchy of America and the popular press of the United States. 

The publishers have thought the present an opportune period to placethis work again in the hands of American readers, with such information, in a preface, as is necessary to acquaint readers of the present daywith the leading circumstances attending and succeeding its originalpublication. They have examined most of the evidence supporting thetruth of the narrative, of which the public can judge as well asthemselves. The details would be voluminous, even of those portionswhich have been collected since the heat of the controversy which thebook long ago excited. Suffice it to say, that undesigned and collateralevidence in corroboration of it has been increasing to the present day;and that the following brief review of some of the early events willafford a fair specimen of the whole. 

In the year 1835, Maria Monk was found alone, and in a wretched andfeeble condition, on the outskirts of New York city, by a humane man, who got her admitted into the hospital at Bellevue. She then first toldthe story in outline, which she afterwards and uniformly repeated indetail, and which was carefully written down and published in thefollowing form:--she said she was a fugitive nun from the Hotel Dieu ofMontreal, whence she had effected her escape, in consequence of crueltywhich she had suffered, and crimes which were there committed by theRomish priests, who had the control of the institution, and to whichthey had access, by private as well as public entrances. Havingexpressed a willingness to go to that city, make public accusations, andpoint out evidences of their truth in the convent itself, she was takenthither by a resolute man, who afterwards suffered for an act of greatmerit; but she was unable to obtain a fair hearing, apparently throughthe secret opposition of the priests. She returned to New York, whereher story was thought worthy of publication; and it was proposed to haveit carefully written down from her lips, and published in a smallpamphlet. Everything she communicated was, therefore, accurately writtendown, and, when copied out, read to her for correction. But the amountof important material in her possession, proved to be far greater thanhad been supposed, and many pages of notes were accumulated on numeroustopics brought up to her attention in the course of conversation andinquiry. All those were submitted to persons fully competent to decideas to the reliability of the evidence, and the strictest and mostconscientious care was taken to ascertain the truth. 

There were but very few Protestants in the United States acquainted withthe condition or history of convents in different countries, thecharacters of those who control and direct them, the motives they havefor keeping them secret, the occupations often pursued within theirwalls, in short, the shameful practices and atrocious crimes of whichthey have been proved to be the theatres, in modern and ancient times, by Romish ecclesiastics and even popes themselves. The public were, therefore, quite unprepared to believe such accusations against menprofessing sanctity of life, and a divine commission to the world, although Miss Harrison and Miss Reed of Boston had published startlingreports respecting the character of the priests and nuns in thatvicinity. 

The following were some of the considerations which were kept in view bythose who proposed the publication of the narrative:--

"If the story is false, it must have been forged by the narrator or someother party. There must have been a motive in either case; and that maybe either to obtain notoriety or money, to injure the reputation of thepriests accused, or ultimately to remove the unfavorable impressionsthrown upon them by their former accusers, by first making charges ofatrocious crimes, and then disproving them. On the other hand, the storymay perhaps be true; and if so, the world ought to know it. In themeantime, here is an unprotected, and evidently unfortunate young woman, of an interesting appearance, who asks to be allowed to make hercomplaint, voluntarily consenting to submit to punishment if she doesnot speak the truth. _She must be allowed a hearing. _"

It is but justice to say that the investigation was undertaken withstrong suspicions of imposture somewhere, and with a fixed resolution toexpose it if discovered. As the investigation proceeded, opinions atfirst fluctuated, sometimes from day to day; but it became evident, erelong, that if the story had been fabricated, it was not the work of thenarrator, as she had not the capacity to invent one so complex andconsistent with itself and with many historical facts entirely beyondthe limited scope of her knowledge. It was also soon perceived that shecould never have been taught it by others, as no part of it wassystematically arranged in her mind, and she communicated it in theincidental manner common to uneducated persons, who recount past scenesin successive conversations. 

As she declared from the first that she had been trained to habits ofdeception in the Convent, and accustomed to witness deceit andcriminality, no confidence could be claimed for her mere unsupporteddeclarations; and therefore a course of thorough cross-questioning waspursued, every effort being made to lead her to contradict herself, butwithout success. She told the same things over and over again in anatural and consistent manner, when brought back to the same point afterintervals of weeks or months. In several instances it was thought thatcontradictions had been traced, but when called on to reconcile herstatements, she cleared up all doubt by easy and satisfactoryexplanations. The course pursued by the priests of Canada and theiradvocates, was such as greatly to confirm the opinion that she spoke thetruth, and that they were exceedingly afraid of it. The following weresome of the contradictory grounds which they at different times assumedin their bitter attacks upon her, her friends, and her books:

That she had never been in the nunnery. 

That she had been expelled from it. 

That she had fabricated everything that she published. 

That several pages from her book, published in the New York "Sun, " werecopied verbatim et literatim from a work published in Portugal above ahundred years before, entitled "The Gates of Hell Opened. "

That there never was a subterranean passage from the seminary to thenunnery. 

That there was such a passage in that direction, but that it led to theRiver St. Lawrence. 

That the drawings and descriptions of the nunnery, and especially of theveiled department, were wholly unlike the reality, but applied to theMagdalen Asylum of Montreal. 

That several objects described by her were in the nunnery, but not inthose parts of it where she had placed them. (This was said by a personwho admitted that he had been lost amidst the numerous and extensiveapartments when he made his observations. )

That the book was fabricated by certain persons in New York who werenamed, they being gentlemen of the highest character. 

That the book was her own production, but written under the instigationof the devil. 

That the author was a layman, and ought to be hung on the first lamp-post. 

That the nunnery was a sacred place, and ought not to be profaned by theadmission of enemies of the church. 

After a committee had been appointed to examine the nunnery and report, and their demand for admission had been published a year or more, theeditor of _L'Ami du Peuple_, a Montreal newspaper, devoted to thepriests' cause, offered to admit persons informally, and did admitseveral Americans, who had been strong partisans against the"Disclosures. " Their letters on the subject, though very indefinite, contained several important, though undesigned admissions, stronglycorroborating the book. 

One of the most common charges against the book was, that it had beenwritten merely for the purpose of obtaining money. Of the falseness ofthis there is decisive evidence. It was intended to secure to the poorand persecuted young female, any profits which might arise from thepublication; but most of the labor and time devoted to the work weregratuitously bestowed. Besides this they devoted much time to effortsnecessary to guard against the numerous and insidious attempts made byfriends of the priests, who by various arts endeavored to producedissention and delay, as well as to pervert public opinion. 

The book was published, and had an almost unprecedented sale, impressingdeep convictions, wherever it went, by its simple and consistentstatements. In Canada, especially, it was extensively received as true;but as the American newspapers were soon enlisted against it, thecountry was filled with misrepresentations, which it was impossiblethrough those channels to follow with refutations. Her noble sacrificesfor the good of others were misunderstood, she withdrew from her fewremaining friends, and at length died in poverty and prison, a victim ofthe priests of Rome. Various evidences in favor of its truth afterwardsappeared, with which the public have never been generally madeacquainted. Some of these were afforded during an interview held in NewYork, August 17th, 1836, with Messrs. Jones and Le Clerc, who had camefrom Montreal with a work in reply to "Awful Disclosures, " which wasafterwards published. They had offered to confront Maria Monk, and proveher an impostor, and make her confess it in the presence of her friends. She promptly appeared; and the first exclamation of Mr. Jones provedthat she was not the person he had supposed her to be: _"This is notFawny Johnson!"_ said he; and he afterwards said, "There must be twoMaria Monks!" Indeed, several persons were at different timesrepresented to bear that name; and much confusion was caused in thetestimony by that artifice. The interview continued about two hours, during which the Canadians made a very sorry figure, entirely failing togain any advantage, and exposing their own weakness. At the close, anEpiscopal clergyman from Canada, one of the company, said: "Miss Monk, if I had had any doubts of your truth before this interview, they wouldnow have been entirely removed. "

The book of Mr. Jones was published, and consisted of affidavits, &c. , obtained in Canada, including those which had previously been published, and which are contained in the Appendix to this volume. Many of themwere signed by names unknown, or those of low persons of no credit, ordevoted to the service of the priests. Evidence was afterwards obtainedthat Mr. Jones was paid by the Canadian ecclesiastics, of which therehad been strong indications. What rendered his defeat highly importantwas, that he was the editor of _L'Ami du Peuple_, the priests'newspaper, in Montreal, and he was "the author of everything which hadbeen written there against Maria Monk, " and had collected all "theaffidavits and testimony. " These were his own declarations. An accuratereport of the interview was published, and had its proper effect, especially his exclamation--"This is not Fanny Johnson!"

The exciting controversy has long passed, but the authentic records ofit are imperishable, and will ever be regarded as an instructive study. The corruptions and crimes of nunneries, and the hypocrisy and chicaneryof those who control them, with the varied and powerful means at theircommand, are there displayed to an attentive reader, in colors as darkand appalling as other features of the popish system are among us, bythe recent exposures of the impudent arrogance of the murderer Bedini, and the ambitious and miserly spirit of his particular friend, theRomish Archbishop of New York. 

Among the recent corroborates of the "Awful Disclosures, " may beparticularly mentioned the two narratives entitled "Coralla, " and"Confessions of a Sister of Charity, " contained in the work issued thisseason by the publishers of the present volume, viz. : "_The EscapedNun_; or, Disclosures of Convent Life, " &c. Of the authenticity ofthose two narratives we can give the public the strongest assurance. 

After the city of Rome had been taken by siege by the French army, in1849, the priests claimed possession of a female orphan-asylum, whichhad something of the nature of a nunnery. The republican government hadgiven liberty to all recluses, and opened all _secret institutions_. (When will Americans do the same?)

Subsequently, when the papists attempted to reinstate the old system, the females remonstrated, barred the doors, and armed themselves withknives and spits from the kitchen, but the French soldiers succeeded inreducing them by force. During the contest the cry of the women was, "Wewill not be the _wives_ of the priests!"

In one of the convents in that city, opened by the republicans, werefound evidences of some of the worst crimes mentioned by Maria Monk; andin another were multitudes of bones, including those of children. 

A strong effort will probably be made again, by the parties exposed bythis book, to avoid the condemnation which it throws upon convents--thestrongholds of superstition, corruption, and _foreign influence_, in the United States. The Romish publications, although greatly reducedin number within a few years, will probably pour out much of theirunexhausted virulence, as it is their vocation to misrepresent, deny, and vilify. They will be ready to pronounce a general anathema on allwho dare to reprint, or even to read or believe, such strong accusationsagainst the "holy retreats" of those whom they pretend are "devoted tolives of piety. " But we will challenge them to do it again, by placingsome of their iron bishops and even popes in the forefront. 

In the year 1489, in the reign of Henry VII, Pope Innocent VIIIpublished a bull for the Reformation of Monasteries, entitled, in Latin, "_De Reformatione Monasceriorum_, " in which he says that, "membersof monasteries and other religious places, both Clemian, Cistercian, andPraemonstratensian, and various other orders in the Kingdom of England"--"lead a lascivious and truly dissolute life. " And that the papistreader may receive this declaration with due reverence, we copy thepreceding words in Latin, as written by an infallible pope, the manwhose worshippers address him as "Vicegerent of God on earth. " Of coursehis words must convince them, if ours do not: "Vitam lascivam ducunt, etnimium dissolutam. " "Swine Priory, " in 1303, had a Prioress namedJosiana, whose conduct made the name of her house quite appropriate. InFrance, in the Council of Troyes, A. D. 999, the Archbishop said, "Inconvents of monks, canons, and nuns, we have lay abbots residing withtheir wives, sons, daughters, soldiers and dogs;" and he charges thewhole clergy with being in a deprived and sinful state. But theparticulars now before us, of such shameful things in Germany, Italy, &c. , for ages, would fill a larger volume than this. 

Now, let the defenders of nunneries repeat, if they dare, theirhackneyed denunciations of those who deny their sanctity. Here standsome of their own bishops and popes before us; and the anathemas mustfall first upon mitres and tiaras! Americans will know how muchconfidence to place in the pretended purity of institutions, whoseiniquity and shame have been thus proclaimed, age after age, in a farmore extensive manner than by this book. But we can at any time shuttheir mouths by the mere mention of "_Den's Theology_, " which theymust not provoke us to refer to. 

AWFUL DISCLOSURES. 

CHAPTER I. 

EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. 

Early Life--Religious Education neglected--First Schools--Entrance intothe School of the Congregational Nunnery--Brief Account of the Nunneriesin Montreal--The Congregational Nunnery--The Black Nunnery--The GreyNunnery--Public Respect for these Institutions--Instruction Received--The Catechism--The Bible. 

My parents were both from Scotland, but had been resident in LowerCanada some time before their marriage, which took place in Montreal;and in that city I spent most of my life. I was born at St. John's, where they lived for a short time. My father was an officer under theBritish Government, and my mother has enjoyed a pension on that accountever since his death. [Footnote: See the affidavit of William Miller, inthe Appendix. ]

According to my earliest recollections, he was attentive to his family;and a particular passage from the Bible, which often occurred to my mindin after life, I may very probably have been taught by him, as after hisdeath I do not recollect to have received any religious instruction athome; and was not even brought up to read the scriptures: my mother, although nominally a Protestant, not being accustomed to pay attentionto her children in this respect. She was rather inclined to think wellof the Catholics, and often attended their churches. To my want ofreligious instruction at home, and the ignorance of my Creator, and myduty, which was its natural effect. I think I can trace my introductionto Convents, and the scenes which I am to describe in this narrative. 

When about six or seven years of age, I went to school to a Mr. Workman, a Protestant, who taught in Sacrament street, and remained severalmonths. There I learned to read and write, and arithmetic as far asdivision. All the progress I ever made in those branches was gained inthat school, as I have never improved in any of them since. 

A number of girls of my acquaintance went to school to the nuns of theCongregational Nunnery, or Sisters of Charity, as they are sometimescalled. The schools taught by them are perhaps more numerous than someof my readers may imagine. Nuns are sent out from that Convent to manyof the towns and villages of Canada to teach small schools; and some ofthem are established as instructresses in different parts of the UnitedStates. When I was about ten years old, my mother asked me one day if Ishould not like to learn to read and write French; and I then began tothink seriously of attending the school in the Congregational Nunnery. Ihad already some acquaintance with that language, sufficient to speak ita little, as I heard it every day, and my mother knew something of it. 

I have a distinct recollection of my first entrance into the Nunnery;and the day was an important one in my life, as on it commenced myacquaintance with a Convent. I was conducted by some of my young friendsalong Notre Dame street till we reached the gate. Entering that, wewalked some distance along the side of a building towards the chapel, until we reached a door, stopped, and rung a bell. This was soon opened, and entering, we proceeded through a long covered passage till we took ashort turn to the left, soon after which we reached the door of theschool-room. On my entrance, the Superior met me, and told me first ofall that I must always dip my fingers into the holy water at her door, cross myself, and say a short prayer; and this she told me was alwaysrequired of Protestant as well as Catholic children. 

There were about fifty girls in the school, and the nuns professed toteach something of reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography. Themethods, however, were very imperfect, and little attention was devotedto them, the time being in a great degree engrossed with lessons inneedle-work, which was performed with much skill. The nuns had no veryregular parts assigned them in the management of the schools. They wererather rough and unpolished in their manners, often exclaiming, "c'estun menti" (that's a lie), and "mon Dieu" (my God), on the most trivialoccasions. Their writing was quite poor, and it was not uncommon forthem to put a capital letter in the middle of a word. The only book ongeography which we studied, was a catechism of geography, from which welearnt by heart a few questions and answers. We were sometimes referredto a map, but it was only to point out Montreal or Quebec, or some otherprominent name, while we had no instruction beyond. 

It may be necessary for the information of some of my readers, tomention that there are three distinct Convents in Montreal, all ofdifferent kinds; that is, founded on different plans, and governed bydifferent rules. Their names are as follows:--

1st. The Congregational Nunnery. 

2d. The Black Nunnery, or Convent of Sister Bourgeoise. 

3d The Grey Nunnery. 

The first of these professes to be devoted entirely to the education ofgirls. It would require however only a proper examination to prove that, with the exception of needle-work, hardly anything is taught exceptingprayers and the catechism; the instruction in reading, writing, &c. , infact, amounting to very little, and often to nothing. This Convent isadjacent to that next to be spoken of, being separated from it only by awall. The second professes to be a charitable institution for the careof the sick, and the supply of bread and medicines for the poor; andsomething is done in these departments of charity, although but aninsignificant amount, compared with the size of the buildings, and thenumber of the inmates. 

The Grey Nunnery, which is situated in a distant part of the city, isalso a large edifice, containing departments for the care of insanepersons and foundlings. With this, however, I have less personalacquaintance than with either of the others. I have often seen two ofthe Grey nuns, and know that their rules, as well as those of theCongregational Nunnery, do not confine them always within their walls, like those of the Black Nunnery. These two Convents have their commonnames (Black and Grey) from the colours of the dresses worn by theirinmates. 

In all these three Convents, there are certain apartments into whichstrangers can gain admittance, but others from which they are alwaysexcluded. In all, large quantities of various ornaments are made by thenuns, which are exposed for sale in the _Ornament_ Rooms, andafford large pecuniary receipts every year, which contribute much totheir incomes. In these rooms visitors often purchase such things asplease them from some of the old [Footnote: The term "old nun, " does notalways indicate superior age. ] and confidential nuns who have the chargeof them. 

From all that appears to the public eye, the nuns of these Convents aredevoted to the charitable objects appropriate to each, the labour ofmaking different articles, known to be manufactured by them, and thereligious observances, which occupy a large portion of their time. Theyare regarded with much respect by the people at large; and now and thenwhen a novice takes the veil, she is supposed to retire from thetemptations and troubles of this world into a state of holy seclusion, where, by prayer, self-mortification, and good deeds, she preparesherself for heaven. Sometimes the Superior of a Convent obtains thecharacter of working miracles; and when such a one dies, it is publishedthrough the country, and crowds throng the Convent, who thinkindulgences are to be derived from bits of her clothes or other thingsshe has possessed; and many have sent articles to be touched to her bedor chair, in which a degree of virtue is thought to remain. I used toparticipate in such ideas and feelings, and began by degrees to lookupon a nun as the happiest of women, and a Convent as the most peaceful, holy, and delightful place of abode. It is true, some pains were takento impress such views upon me. Some of the priests of the Seminary oftenvisited the Congregation Nunnery, and both catechised and talked with uson religion. The Superior of the Black Nunnery adjoining, also, occasionally came into the School, enlarged on the advantages we enjoyedin having such teachers, and dropped something now and then relating toher own Convent, calculated to make us entertain the highest ideas ofit, and to make us sometimes think of the possibility of getting intoit. 

Among the instructions given us by the priests, some of the most pointedwere those directed against the Protestant Bible. They often enlargedupon the evil tendency of that book, and told us that but for it many asoul now condemned to hell, and suffering eternal punishment, might havebeen in happiness. They could not say any thing in its favour: for thatwould be speaking against religion and against God. They warned usagainst it, and represented it as a thing very dangerous to our souls. In confirmation of this, they would repeat some of the answers taught usat catechism, a few of which I will here give. We had little catechisms("Le Petit Catechism") put into our hands to study; but the priests soonbegan to teach us a new set of answers, which were not to be found inour books, and from some of which I received new ideas, and got, as Ithought, important light on religious subjects, which confirmed me moreand more in my belief in the Roman Catholic doctrines. These questionsand answers I can still recall with tolerable accuracy, and some of themI will add here. I never have read them, as we were taught them only byword of mouth. 

_Question_. "Pourquoi le bon Dieu n'a pas fait tous lescommandemens?"

_Réponse_. "Parce que l'homme n'est pas si fort qu'il peut gardertous ses commandemens. "

_Q_. "Why did not God make all the commandments?"

_A_. "Because man is not strong enough to keep them. "

And another. _Q_. "Pourquoi l'homme ne lit pas l'Evangile?"

_R_. "Parce que l'esprit de l'homme est trop borné et trop faîblepour comprendre qu'est ce que Dieu a écrit. "

_Q_. "Why are men not to read the New Testament?"

_A_. "Because the mind of man is too limited and weak to understandwhat God has written. "

These questions and answers are not to be found in the common catechismsin use in Montreal and other places where I have been, but all thechildren in the Congregational Nunnery were taught them, and many morenot found in these books. 

CHAPTER II. 

CONGREGATIONAL NUNNERY. 

Story told by a fellow Pupil against a Priest--Other Stories--PrettyMary--Confess to Father Richards--My subsequent Confessions--Left theCongregational Nunnery. 

There was a girl thirteen years old whom I knew in the School, whoresided in the neighborhood of my mother, and with whom I had beenfamiliar. She told me one day at school of the conduct of a priest withher at confession, at which I was astonished. It was of so criminal andshameful a nature, I could hardly believe it, and yet I had so muchconfidence that she spoke the truth, that I could not discredit it. 

She was partly persuaded by the priest to believe that he could not sin, because he was a priest, and that anything he did to her would sanctifyher; and yet she seemed doubtful how she should act. A priest, she hadbeen told by him, is a holy man, and appointed to a holy office, andtherefore what would be wicked in other men, could not be so in him. Shetold me that she had informed her mother of it, who expressed no angernor disapprobation, but only enjoined it upon her not to speak of it;and remarked to her, that as priests were not like other men, but holy, and sent to instruct and save us, whatever they did was right. 

I afterward confessed to the priest that I had heard the story, and hada penance to perform for indulging a sinful curiosity in makinginquiries; and the girl had another for communicating it. I afterwardlearned that other children had been treated in the same manner, andalso of similar proceedings in other places. 

Indeed, it was not long before such language was used to me, and I wellremember how my views of right and wrong were shaken by it. Another girlat the School, from a place above Montreal, called the Lac, told me thefollowing story of what had occurred recently in that vicinity. A youngsquaw, called la Belle Marie, (pretty Mary, ) had been seen going toconfession at the house of the priest, who lived a little out of thevillage. La Belle Marie was afterwards missed, and her murdered body wasfound in the river. A knife was also found covered with blood, bearingthe priest's name. Great indignation was excited among the Indians, andthe priest immediately absconded, and was never heard from again. A notewas found on his table addressed to him, telling him to fly if he wasguilty. 

It was supposed that the priest was fearful that his conduct might bebetrayed by this young female; and he undertook to clear himself bykilling her. 

These stories struck me with surprise at first, but I gradually began tofeel differently, even supposing them true, and to look upon the priestsas men incapable of sin; besides, when I first went to confession, whichI did to Father Richards, in the old French church (since taken down), Iheard nothing improper; and it was not until I had been several times, that the priests became more and more bold, and were at length indecentin their questions and even in their conduct when I confessed to them inthe Sacristie. This subject I believe is not understood nor suspectedamong Protestants; and it is not my intention to speak of it veryparticularly, because it is impossible to do so without saying thingsboth shameful and demoralizing. 

I will only say here, that when quite a child, I had from the mouths ofthe priests at confession what I cannot repeat, with treatmentcorresponding; and several females in Canada have recently assured me, that they have repeatedly, and indeed regularly, been required to answerthe same and other like questions, many of which present to the minddeeds which the most iniquitous and corrupt heart could hardly invent. 

There was a frequent change of teachers in the School of the Nunnery;and no regular system was pursued in our instruction. There were manynuns who came and went while I was there, being frequently called in andout without any perceptible reason. They supply school teachers to manyof the country towns, usually two for each of the towns with which I wasacquainted, besides sending Sisters of Charity to different parts of theUnited States. Among those whom I saw most, was Saint Patrick, an oldwoman for a nun (that is, about forty), very ignorant, and gross in hermanners, with quite a beard on her face, and very cross anddisagreeable. She was sometimes our teacher in sewing, and was appointedto keep order among us. We were allowed to enter only a few of the roomsin the Congregational Nunnery, although it was not considered one of thesecluded Convents. 

In the Black Nunnery, which is very near the Congregational, is anhospital for sick people from the city; and sometimes some of ourboarders, such as are indisposed, were sent there to be cured. I wasonce taken ill myself and sent there, where I remained a few days. 

There were beds enough for a considerable number more. A physicianattended it daily; and there are a number of the veiled nuns of thatConvent who spend most of their time there. 

These would also sometimes read lectures and repeat prayers to us. 

After I had been in the Congregational Nunnery about two years, I leftit, [Footnote: See the 2d affidavit. ] and attended several differentschools for a short time; but I soon became dissatisfied, having manyand severe trials to endure at home, which my feelings will not allow meto describe; and as my Catholic acquaintances had often spoken to me infavour of their faith, I was inclined to believe it true, although, as Ibefore said, I knew little of any religion. While out of the nunnery, Isaw nothing of religion. If I had, I believe I should never have thoughtof becoming a nun. 

CHAPTER III. 

BLACK NUNNERY. 

Preparations to become a Novice in the Black Nunnery--Entrance--Occupations of the Novices--The Apartments to which they had Access--First Interview with Jane Ray--Reverence for the Superior--Her Reliques--The Holy Good Shepherd or nameless Nun--Confession of Novices. 

At length I determined to become a Black nun, and called upon one of theoldest priests in the Seminary, to whom I made known my intention. 

The old priest to whom I applied was Father Rocque. He is still alive. He was at that time the oldest priest in the Seminary, and carried theBon Dieu, (Good God, ) as the sacramental wafer is called. When going toadminister it in any country place, he used to ride with a man beforehim, who rang a bell as a signal. When the Canadians heard it, whosehabitations he passed, they would come and prostrate themselves to theearth, worshipping it as God. He was a man of great age, and wore largecurls, so that he somewhat resembled his predecessor, Father Roue. Hewas at that time at the head of the Seminary. This institution is alarge edifice, situated near the Congregational and Black Nunneries, being on the east side of Notre Dame street. It is the generalrendezvous and centre of all the priests in the District of Montreal, and, I have been told, supplies all the country with priests as far downas Three Rivers, which place, I believe, is under the charge of theSeminary of Quebec. About one hundred and fifty priests are connectedwith that of Montreal, as every small place has one priest, and a numberof larger ones have two. 

Father Rocque promised to converse with the Superior of the Convent, andproposed my calling again, at the end of two weeks, at which time Ivisited the Seminary again, and was introduced by him to the Superior ofthe Black Nunnery. She told me she must make some inquiries, before shecould give me a decided answer; and proposed to me to take up my abode afew days at the house of a French family in St. Lawrence suburbs, adistant part of the city. Here I remained about a fortnight; duringwhich time I formed some acquaintance with the family, particularly withthe mistress of the house, who was a devoted Papist, and had a highrespect for the Superior, with whom she stood on good terms. 

At length, on Saturday morning about ten o'clock, I called and wasadmitted into the Black Nunnery, as a novice, much to my satisfaction, for I had a high idea of a life in a Convent, secluded, as I supposedthe inmates to be, from the world and all its evil influences, andassured of everlasting happiness in heaven. The Superior received me, and conducted me into a large room, where the novices, (who are calledin French Postulantes, ) were assembled, and engaged in their customaryoccupation of sewing. 

Here were about forty of them, and they were collected in groups indifferent parts of the room, chiefly near the windows; but in each groupwas found one of the veiled nuns of the Convent, whose abode was in theinterior apartments, to which no novice was to be admitted. As weentered, the Superior informed the assembly that a new novice had come, and she desired any present who might have known me in the world tosignify it. 

Two Miss Fougnées, and a Miss Howard, from Vermont, who had been myfellow-pupils in the Congregational Nunnery, immediately recognised me. I was then placed in one of the groups, at a distance from them, andfurnished by a nun called Sainte Clotilde, with materials to make a kindof purse, such as the priests use to carry the consecrated wafer in, when they go to administer the sacrament to the sick. I well remember myfeelings at that time, sitting among a number of strangers, andexpecting with painful anxiety the arrival of the dinner hour. Then, asI knew, ceremonies were to be performed, for which I was but illprepared, as I had not yet heard the rules by which I was to begoverned, and knew nothing of the forms to be repeated in the dailyexercises, except the creed in Latin, and that imperfectly. This wasduring the time of recreation, as it is called. The only recreationthere allowed, however, is that of the mind, and of this there is butlittle. We were kept at work, and permitted to speak with each otheronly on such subjects as related to the Convent, and all in the hearingof the old nuns who sat by us. We proceeded to dinner in couples, andate in silence while a lecture was read. 

The novices had access to only eight of the apartments of the Convent;and whatever else we wished to know, we could only conjecture. Thesleeping room was in the second story, at the end of the western wing. The beds were placed in rows, without curtains or anything else toobstruct the view; and in one corner was a small room partitioned off, in which was the bed of the night-watch, that is, the old nun that wasappointed to oversee us for the night. In each side of the partitionwere two holes, through which she could look out upon us whenever shepleased. Her bed was a little raised above the level of the others. There was a lamp hung in the middle of our chamber which showed everything to her distinctly; and as she had no light in her little room, wenever could perceive whether she was awake or asleep. As we knew thatthe slightest deviation from the rules would expose us to herobservation, as well as to that of our companions, in whom it was avirtue to betray one another's faults, as well as to confess our own, Ifelt myself under a continual exposure to suffer what I disliked, andhad my mind occupied in thinking of what I was to do next, and what Imust avoid. 

I soon learned the rules and ceremonies we had to regard, which weremany; and we had to be very particular in their observance. We wereemployed in different kinds of work while I was a novice. The mostbeautiful specimen of the nuns' manufacture which I saw was a richcarpet made of fine worsted, which had been begun before my acquaintancewith the Convent, and was finished while I was there. This was sent as apresent to the King of England, as an expression of gratitude for themoney annually received from the government. It was about forty yards inlength, and very handsome. We were ignorant of the amount of money thusreceived. The Convent of Grey Nuns has also received funds from thegovernment, though on some account or other, had not for several years. 

I was sitting by a window at one time, with a girl named Jane M'Coy, when one of the old nuns cams up and spoke to us in a tone of livelinessand kindness which seemed strange, in a place where everything seemed socold and reserved. Some remark which she made was evidently intended tocheer and encourage me, and made me think that she felt some interest inme. I do not recollect what she said, but I remember it gave mepleasure. I also remember that her manner struck me singularly. She wasrather old for a nun, that is, probably thirty; her figure large, herface wrinkled, and her dress careless. She seemed also to be under lessrestraint than the others, and this, I afterward found, was the case. She sometimes even set the rules at defiance. She would speak aloud whensilence was required, and sometimes walk about when she ought to havekept her place: she would even say and do things on purpose to make uslaugh; and although often blamed for her conduct, had her offencesfrequently passed over, when others would have been punished withpenances. 

I learnt that this woman had always been singular. She never wouldconsent to take a saint's name on receiving the veil, and had alwaysbeen known by her own, which was Jane Ray. Her irregularities were foundto be numerous, and penances were of so little use in governing her, that she was pitied by some, who thought her partially insane. She was, therefore, commonly spoken of as mad Jane Ray; and when she committed afault, it was often apologized for by the Superior or other nuns, on theground that she did not know what she did. 

The occupations of a novice in the Black Nunnery are not such as some ofmy readers may suppose. They are not employed in studying the higherbranches of education; they are not offered any advantages for storingtheir mind, or polishing their manners; they are not taught evenreading, writing, or arithmetic; much less any of the more advancedbranches of knowledge. My time was chiefly employed, at first, in workand prayers. It is true, during the last year I studied a great deal, and was required to work but very little; but it was the study ofprayers in French and Latin, which I had merely to commit to memory, toprepare for the easy repetition of them on my reception, and after Ishould be admitted as a nun. 

Among the wonderful events which had happened in the Convent, that ofthe sudden conversion of a gay young lady of the city into a nun, appeared to me one of the most remarkable. The story which I firstheard, while a novice, made a deep impression upon my mind. It wasnearly as follows:

The daughter of a wealthy citizen of Montreal was passing the church ofBon Secours, one evening, on her way to a ball, when she was suddenlythrown down upon the steps or near the door, and received a severeshock. She was taken up, and removed first, I think, into the church, but soon into the Black Nunnery, which she soon determined to join as anun; instead, however, of being required to pass through a longnovitiate (which usually occupies about two years and a-half, and isabridged only where the character is peculiarly exemplary and devout), she was permitted to take the veil without delay; being declared by Godto a priest to be in a state of sanctity. The meaning of this expressionis, that she was a real saint, and already in a great measure raisedabove the world and its influences, and incapable of sinning, possessingthe power of intercession, and being a proper object to be addressed inprayer. This remarkable individual, I was further informed, was still inthe Convent, though I never was allowed to see her; she did not minglewith the other nuns, either at work, worship, or meals; for she had noneed of food, and not only her soul, but her body, was in heaven a greatpart of her time. What added, if possible, to the reverence andmysterious awe with which I thought of her, was the fact I learned, thatshe had no name. The titles used in speaking of her were, the holysaint, reverend mother, or saint bon pasteur (the holy good shepherd). 

It is wonderful that we could have carried our reverence for theSuperior as far as we did, although it was the direct tendency of manyinstructions and regulations, indeed of the whole system, to permit, even to foster a superstitious regard for her. 

One of us was occasionally called into her room, to cut her nails ordress her hair; and we would often collect the clippings, and distributethem to each other, or preserve them with the utmost care. I once pickedup all the stray hairs I could find, after combing her head, bound themtogether, and kept them for some time, until she told me I was notworthy to possess things so sacred. Jane McCoy and I were once sent toalter a dress for the Superior. I gathered up all the bits of thread, made a little bag, and put them into it for safe preservation. This Iwore a long time around my neck, so long, indeed, that I wore out anumber of strings, which, I remember, I replace with new ones. Ibelieved it to possess the power of removing pain, and often prayed toit to cure the tooth-ache, &c. Jane Ray sometimes professed to outgo usall in devotion to the Superior, and would pick up the feathers aftermaking her bed. These she would distributed among us, saying, "When theSuperior dies, reliques will begin to grow scarce, and you had bettersupply yourselves in season. " Then she would treat the whole matter insome way to turn it into ridicule. Equally contradictory would sheappear, when occasionally she would obtain leave from the Superior totell her dreams. With a serious face, which sometimes imposed upon allof us, and made us half believe she was in a perfect state of sanctity, she would narrate in French some unaccountable vision which she said shehad enjoyed. Then turning round, would say, "There are some who do notunderstand me; you all ought to be informed. " And then she would saysomething totally different in English, which put us to the greatestagony for fear of laughing. Sometimes she would say that she expected tobe Superior herself, one of these days, and other things which I havenot room to repeat. 

While I was in the Congregational Nunnery, I had gone to the parishchurch whenever I was to confess; for although the nuns had a privateconfession-room in the building, the boarders were taken in partiesthrough the streets on different days by some of the nuns, to confess inthe church; but in the Black Nunnery, as we had a chapel and priestsattending in the confessionals, we never left the building. 

Our confessions there as novices, were always performed in one way, sothat it may be sufficient to describe a single case. Those of us whowere to confess at a particular time, took our places on our knees nearthe confessional-box, and after having repeated a number of prayers, &c. , prescribed in our books, came up one at a time and kneeled beside afine wooden lattice-work, which entirely separated the confessor fromus, yet permitted us to place our faces almost to his ear, and nearlyconcealed his countenance from view, even when so near. I recollect howthe priests used to recline their heads on one side, and often coveredtheir faces with their handkerchiefs, while they heard me confess mysins, and put questions to me, which were often of the most improper andeven revolting nature, naming crimes both unthought of and inhuman. Still, strange as it may seem, I was persuaded to believe that all thiswas their duty, or at least that it was done without sin. 

Veiled nuns would often appear in the chapel at confession; though, as Iunderstood, they generally confessed in private. Of the plan of theirconfession-rooms I had no information; but I supposed the ceremony to beconducted much on the same plan as in the chapel and in the church, viz. With a lattice interposed between the confessor and the confessing. 

Punishments were sometimes resorted to, while I was a novice, though butseldom. The first time I ever saw a gag, was one day when a young novicehad done something to offend the Superior. This girl I always hadcompassion for; because she was very young, and an orphan. The Superiorsent for a gag, and expressed her regret at being compelled, by the badconduct of the child, to proceed to such a punishment; after which sheput it into her mouth, so far as to keep it open, and then let it remainsome time before she took it out. There was a leathern strap fastened toeach end, and buckled to the back part of the head. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Displeased with the Convent--Left it--Residence at St. Denis--Reliques--Marriage--Return to the Black Nunnery--Objections made by some Novices--Ideas of the Bible. 

After I had been in the nunneries four or five years, from the time Icommenced school at the Congregational Convent, one day I was treated byone of the nuns in a manner which displeased me, and because I expressedsome resentment, was required to beg her pardon. Not being satisfiedwith this, although I complied with the command, nor with the coolnesswith which the Superior treated me, I determined to quit the Convent atonce, which I did without asking leave. There would have been noobstacle to my departure, I presume, novice as I then was, if I hadasked permission; but I was too much displeased to wait for that, andwent home without speaking to any one on the subject. 

I soon after visited the town of St. Denis, where I saw two young ladieswith whom I had formerly been acquainted in Montreal, and one of them aformer schoolmate at Mr. Workman's school. After some conversation withme, and learning that I had known a lady who kept school in the place, they advised me to apply to her to be employed as her assistant teacher;for she was then instructing the government school in that place. Ivisited her, and found her willing, and I engaged at once as herassistant. 

The government society paid her 20_l_: a-year: she was obliged toteach ten children gratuitously; might receive fifteen pence a month(about a quarter of a dollar), for each of ten scholars more; and thenshe was at liberty, according to the regulations, to demand as much asshe pleased for the other pupils. The course of instruction, as requiredby the society, embraced only reading, writing, and what was calledciphering, though I think improperly. The only books used were aspelling-book, l'Instruction de la Jeunesse, the Catholic New Testament, and l'Histoire de Canada. When these had been read through, in regularsuccession, the children were dismissed as having completed theireducation. No difficulty is found in making the common French Canadianscontent with such an amount of instruction as this; on the contrary, itis often very hard indeed to prevail upon them to send their children atall, for they say it takes too much of the love of God from them to sentthem to school. The teacher strictly complied with the requisitions ofthe society in whose employment she was, and the Roman Catholiccatechism was regularly taught in the school, as much from choice asfrom submission to authority, as she was a strict Catholic. I hadbrought with me the little bag I have before mentioned, in which I hadso long kept the clippings of the thread left after making a dress forthe Superior. Such was my regard for it, that I continued to wear itconstantly round my neck, and to feel the same reverence for itssupposed virtues as before. I occasionally had the toothache during mystay at St. Denis, and then always relied on the influence of my littlebag. On such occasions I would say--

"By the virtue of this bag, may I be delivered from the toothache;" andI supposed that when it ceased, it was owing to that cause. 

While engaged in this manner, I became acquainted with a man who soonproposed marriage; and young and ignorant of the world as I was, I heardhis offers with favour. On consulting with my friend, she expressed aninterest for me, advised me against taking such a step, and especiallyas I knew little about the man, except that a report was circulatedunfavorable to his character. Unfortunately, I was not wise enough tolisten to her advice, and hastily married. In a few weeks, I hadoccasion to repent of the step I had taken, as the report proved true--areport which I thought justified, and indeed required, our separation. After I had been in St. Denis about three months, finding myself thussituated, and not knowing what else to do, I determined to return to theConvent, and pursue my former intention of becoming a Black nun, could Igain admittance. Knowing the many inquiries that the Superior would makerelative to me, during my absence before leaving St. Denis, I agreedwith the lady with whom I had been associated as a teacher (when shewent to Montreal, which she did very frequently), to say to the LadySuperior that I had been under her protection during my absence, whichwould satisfy her, and stop further inquiry; as I was sensible, that, should they know I had been married, I should not gain admittance. 

I soon returned to Montreal, and on reaching the city, I visited theSeminary, and in another interview with the Superior of it, communicatedmy wish, and desired him to procure my re-admission as a novice. Littledelay occurred. 

After leaving me for a short time, he returned, and told me that theSuperior of the Convent had consented, and I was soon introduced intoher presence. She blamed me for my conduct in leaving the nunnery, buttold me that I ought to be ever grateful to my guardian angel for takingcare of me, and bringing me in safety back to that retreat. I requestedthat I might be secured against the reproaches and ridicule of all thenovices and nuns, which I thought some might be disposed to cast upon meunless prohibited by the Superior; and this she promised me. The moneyusually required for the admission of novices had not been expected fromme. I had been admitted the first time without any such requisition; butnow I chose to pay it for my re-admission. I knew that she was able todispense with such a demand as well in this as the former case, and sheknew that I was not in possession of any thing like the sum required. 

But I was bent on paying to the Nunnery, and accustomed to receive thedoctrine often repeated to me before that time, that when the advantageof the church was consulted, the steps taken were justifiable, let thembe what they would, I therefore resolved to obtain money on falsepretences, confident that if all were known, I should be far fromdispleasing the Superior. I went to the brigade major, and asked him togive me the money payable to my mother from her pension, which amountedto about thirty dollars, and without questioning my authority to receiveit in her name, he gave it me. 

From several of her friends I obtained small sums under the name ofloans, so that altogether I had soon raised a number of pounds, withwhich I hastened to the nunnery, and deposited a part in the hands ofthe Superior. She received the money with evident satisfaction, thoughshe must have known that I could not have obtained it honestly; and Iwas at once re-admitted as a novice. 

Much to my gratification, not a word fell from the lips of any of my oldassociates in relation to my unceremonious departure, nor my voluntaryreturn. The Superior's orders, I had not a doubt, had been explicitlylaid down, and they certainly were carefully obeyed, for I never heardan allusion made to that subject during my subsequent stay in theConvent, except that, when alone, the Superior would herself sometimessay a little about it. 

There were numbers of young ladies who entered awhile as novices, andbecame weary or disgusted with some things they observed, and remainedbut a short time. One of my cousins, who lived at Lachine, named Reed, spent about a fortnight in the Convent with me. She, however, conceivedsuch an antipathy against the priests, that she used expressions whichoffended the Superior. 

The first day she attended mass, while at dinner with us in fullcommunity, she said before us all: "What a rascal that priest was, topreach against his best friend!"

All stared at such an unusual exclamation, and some one inquired whatshe meant. 

"I say, " she continued, "he has been preaching against him who gives himhis bread. Do you suppose that if there were no devil, there would beany priests?"

This bold young novice was immediately dismissed: and in the afternoonwe had a long sermon from the Superior on the subject. 

It happened that I one day got a leaf of an English Bible, which hadbeen brought into the Convent, wrapped round some sewing silk, purchasedat a store in the city. For some reason or other, I determined to committo memory a chapter it contained, which I soon did. It is the onlychapter I ever learnt in the Bible, and I can now repeat it. It is thesecond of St. Matthew's gospel, "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem ofJudea, " &c. 

It happened that I was observed reading the paper, and when the natureof it was discovered, I was condemned to do penance for my offence. 

Great dislike to the Bible was shown by those who conversed with meabout it, and several have remarked to me, at different times, that ifit were not for that book, Catholics would never be led to renouncetheir own faith. 

I heard passages read from the Evangile, relating to the death ofChrist; the conversion of Paul; a few chapters from St. Matthew, andperhaps a few others. The priest would also sometimes take a verse ortwo, and preach from it. I read St. Peter's Life, but only in the bookcalled the "Lives of the Saints. " He, I understand, has the keys ofheaven and hell, and has founded our church. As for St. Paul, Iremember, as I was taught to understand it, that he was once a greatpersecutor of the Roman _Catholics_, until he became convicted, andconfessed to one of the _father confessors_, I don't know which. For who can expect to be forgiven who does not become a Catholic, andconfess?

CHAPTER V. 

Received Confirmation--Painful Feelings--Specimen of Instructionreceived on the Subject. 

The day on which I received confirmation was a distressing one to me. Ibelieved the doctrine of the Roman Catholics, and according to them Iwas guilty of three mortal sins; concealing something at confession, sacrilege, in putting the body of Christ in the sacrament under my feet, and receiving it while not in a state of grace; and now, I had been ledinto all those sins in consequence of my marriage, which I never hadacknowledged, as it would cut me off from being admitted as a nun. 

On the day, therefore, when I went to the church to be confirmed, with anumber of others, I suffered extremely from the reproaches of myconscience. I knew, at least I believed, as I had been told, that aperson who had been anointed with the holy oil of confirmation on theforehead, and dying in the state in which I was, would go down to hell, and in the place where the oil had been rubbed, the names of my sinswould blaze out on my forehead; these would be a sign by which thedevils would know me; and they would torment me the worse for them. Iwas thinking of all this, while I sat in the pew, waiting to receive theoil. I felt, however, some consolation, as I often did afterward when mysins came to mind; and this consolation I derived from another doctrineof the same church: viz. That a bishop could absolve me from all thesesins any minute before my death; and I intended to confess them all to abishop before leaving the world. At length, the moment for administeringthe "sacrament" arrived, and a bell was rung. Those who had come to beconfirmed had brought tickets from their confessors, and these werethrown into a hat, carried around by a priest who in turn handed each tothe bishop, by which he learnt the name of each of us, and applied alittle of the oil to our foreheads. This was immediately rubbed off by apriest with a bit of cloth, quite roughly. 

I went home with some qualms of conscience, and often thought with dreadof the following tale, which I have heard told to illustrate thesinfulness of conduct like mine. 

A priest was once travelling, when, just as he was passing by a house, his horse fell on his knees, and would not rise. His rider dismounted, and went in to learn the cause of so extraordinary an occurrence. Hefound there a woman near death, to whom a priest was trying toadminister the sacrament, but without success; for every, time sheattempted to swallow it, it was thrown back out of her mouth into thechalice. He perceived it was owing to unconfessed sin, and took away theholy wafer from her: on which his horse rose from his knees, and hepursued his journey. 

I often remembered also that I had been told, that we shall have as manydevils biting us, if we go to hell, as we have unconfessed sins on ourconsciences. 

I was required to devote myself for about a year, to the study of theprayers and the practice of the ceremonies necessary on the reception ofa nun. This I found a very tedious duty; but as I was released in agreat degree from the daily labors usually demanded of novices, I feltlittle disposition to complain. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Taking the Veil--Interview afterward with the Superior--Surprise andhorror at her Disclosure--Resolution to Submit. 

I was introduced into the Superior's room on the evening preceding theday on which I was to take the veil, to have an interview with theBishop. The Superior was present, and the interview lasted about half anhour. The Bishop on this as on other occasions appeared to me habituallyrough in his manners. His address was by no means prepossessing. 

Before I took the veil, I was ornamented for the ceremony, and wasclothed in a rich dress belonging to the Convent, which was used on suchoccasions; and placed not far from the altar in the chapel, in the viewof a number of spectators who had assembled, perhaps about forty. Takingthe veil is an affair which occurs so frequently in Montreal, that ithas long ceased to be regarded as a novelty; and, although notice hadbeen given in the French parish church as usual, only a small audiencehad assembled, as I have mentioned. 

Being well prepared with a long training, and frequent rehearsals, forwhat I was to perform, I stood waiting in my large flowing dress for theappearance of the Bishop. He soon presented himself, entering by thedoor behind the altar; I then threw myself at his feet, and asked him toconfer upon me the veil. He expressed his consent, and threw it over myhead, saying, "Receive the veil, O thou spouse of Jesus Christ;" andthen turning to the Superior, I threw myself prostrate at her feet, according to my instructions, repeating what I had before done atrehearsals, and made a movement as if to kiss her feet. This sheprevented, or appeared to prevent, catching me by a sudden motion of herhand, and granted my request. I then kneeled before the Holy Sacrament, that is, a very large round wafer held by the Bishop between his fore-finger and thumb, and made my vows. 

This wafer I had been taught to regard with the utmost veneration, asthe real body of Jesus Christ, the presence of which made the vowsuttered before it binding in the most solemn manner. 

After taking the vows, I proceeded to a small apartment behind thealtar, accompanied by four nuns, where was a coffin prepared with my nunname engraven upon it:

"SAINT EUSTACE. "

My companions lifted it by four handles attached to it, while I threwoff my dress, and put on that of a nun of Soeur Bourgeoise; and then weall returned to the chapel. I proceeded first, and was followed by thefour nuns; the Bishop naming a number of worldly pleasures in rapidsuccession, in reply to which I as rapidly repeated--"Je renonce, jerenonce, je renonce"--[I renounce, I renounce, I renounce. ]

The coffin was then placed in front of the altar, and I advanced to laymyself in it. This coffin was to be deposited, after the ceremony, in anouthouse, to be preserved until my death, when it was to receive mycorpse. There were reflections which I naturally made at the time, but Istepped in, extended myself, and lay still. A pillow had been placed atthe head of the coffin, to support my head in a comfortable position. Alarge, thick black cloth was then spread over me, and the chanting ofLatin hymns immediately commenced. My thoughts were not the mostpleasing during the time I lay in that situation. The pall, or DrapMortel, as the cloth is called, had a strong smell of incense, which wasalways disagreeable to me, and then proved almost suffocating. Irecollected also a story I had heard of a novice, who, in taking theveil, lay down in her coffin like me, and was covered in the samemanner, but on the removal of the covering was found dead. 

When I was uncovered, I rose, stepped out of my coffin, and kneeled. TheBishop then addressed these words to the Superior, "Take care and keeppure and spotless this young virgin, whom Christ has consecrated tohimself this day. " After which the music commenced, and here the wholewas finished. I then proceeded from the chapel, and returned to theSuperior's room, followed by the other nuns, who walked two by two, intheir customary manner, with their hands folded on their breasts, andtheir eyes cast down upon the floor. The nun who was to be my companionin future, then walked at the end of the procession. On reaching theSuperior's door, they all left me, and I entered alone, and found herwith the Bishop and two priests. 

The Superior now informed me, that having taken the black veil, it onlyremained that I should swear the three oaths customary on becoming anun; and that some explanations would be necessary from her. I was now, she told me, to have access to every part of the edifice, even to thecellar, where two of the sisters were imprisoned for causes which shedid not mention. I must be informed, that one of my great duties was, toobey the priests in all things; and this I soon learnt, to my utterastonishment and horror, was to live in the practice of criminalintercourse with them. I expressed some of the feelings which thisannouncement excited in me, which came upon me like a flash oflightning, but the only effect was to set her arguing with me, in favorof the crime, representing it as a virtue acceptable to God, andhonorable to me. The priests, she said, were not situated like othermen, being forbidden to marry; while they lived secluded, laborious, andself-denying lives for our salvation. They might, indeed, be consideredour saviours, as without their services we could not obtain the pardonof sin, and must go to hell. Now, it was our solemn duty, on withdrawingfrom the world, to consecrate our lives to religion, to practice everyspecies of self-denial. We could not become too humble, nor mortify ourfeelings too far; this was to be done by opposing them, and actingcontrary to them; and what she proposed was, therefore, pleasing in thesight of God. I now felt how foolish I had been to place myself in thepower of such persons as were around me. 

From what she said I could draw no other conclusion, but that I wasrequired to act like the most abandoned of beings, and that all myfuture associates were habitually guilty of the most heinous anddetestable crimes. When I repeated my expressions of surprise andhorror, she told me that such feelings were very common at first, andthat many other nuns had expressed themselves as I did, who had longsince changed their minds. She even said, that on her entrance into thenunnery, she had felt like me. 

Doubts, she declared, were among our greatest enemies. They would leadus to question every point of duty, and induce us to waver at everystep. They arose only from remaining imperfection, and were alwaysevidence of sin. Our only way was to dismiss them immediately, repent, and confess them. They were deadly sins, and would condemn us to hell, if we should die without confessing them. Priests, she insisted, couldnot sin. It was a thing impossible. Everything that they did, andwished, was of course right. She hoped I would see the reasonablenessand duty of the oaths I was to take, and be faithful to them. 

She gave me another piece of information which excited other feelings inme, scarcely less dreadful. Infants were sometimes born in the convent;but they were always baptized and immediately strangled! This securedtheir everlasting happiness; for the baptism purified them from allsinfulness, and being sent out of the world before they had time to doanything wrong, they were at once admitted into heaven. How happy, sheexclaimed, are those who secure immortal happiness to such littlebeings! Their little souls would thank those who kill their bodies, ifthey had it in their power!

Into what a place, and among what society, had I been admitted! Howdifferently did a Convent now appear from what I had supposed it to be!The holy women I had always fancied the nuns to be, the venerable LadySuperior, what were they? And the priests of the seminary adjoining, some of whom indeed I had had reason to think were base and profligatemen, what were they all? I now learnt they were often admitted into thenunnery, and allowed to indulge in the greatest crimes, which they andothers called virtues. 

After having listened for some time to the Superior alone, a number ofthe nuns were admitted, and took a free part in the conversation. Theyconcurred in everything which she had told me, and repeated, without anysigns of shame or compunction, things which criminated themselves. Imust acknowledge the truth, and declare that all this had an effect uponmy mind. I questioned whether I might not be in the wrong, and felt asif their reasoning might have some just foundation. I had been severalyears under the tuition of Catholics, and was ignorant of theScriptures, and unaccustomed to the society, example, and conversationof Protestants; had not heard any appeal to the Bible as authority, buthad been taught, both by precept and example, to receive as trutheverything said by the priests. I had not heard their authorityquestioned, nor anything said of any other standard of faith but theirdeclarations. I had long been familiar with the corrupt and licentiousexpressions which some of them use at confessions, and believed thatother women were also. I had no standard of duty to refer to, and nojudgment of my own which I knew how to use, or thought of using. 

All around me insisted that my doubts proved only my own ignorance andsinfulness; that they knew by experience they would soon give place totrue knowledge, and an advance in religion; and I felt something likeindecision. 

Still, there was so much that disgusted me in the discovery I had nowmade, of the debased characters around me, that I would most gladly haveescaped from the nunnery, and never returned. But that was a thing notto be thought of. I was in their power, and this I deeply felt, while Ithought there was not one among the whole number of nuns to whom I couldlook for kindness. There was one, however, who began to speak to me atlength in a tone that gained something of my confidence, --the nun whom Ihave mentioned before as distinguished by her oddity, Jane Ray, who madeus so much amusement when I was a novice. Although, as I have remarked, there was nothing in her face, form, or manners, to give me anypleasure, she addressed me with apparent friendliness; and while sheseemed to concur in some things spoken by them, took an opportunity towhisper a few words in my ear, unheard by them, intimating that I hadbetter comply with everything the Superior desired, if I would save mylife. I was somewhat alarmed before, but I now became much more so, anddetermined to make no further resistance. The Superior then made merepeat the three oaths; and when I had sworn them, I was shown into oneof the community rooms, and remained some time with the nuns, who werereleased from their usual employments, and enjoying a recreation day, onaccount of the admission of a new sister. My feelings during theremainder of that day, I shall not attempt to describe; but pass on tomention the ceremonies which took place at dinner. This description maygive an idea of the manner in which we always took our meals, althoughthere were some points in which the breakfast and supper were different. 

At 11 o'clock the bell rung for dinner, and the nuns all took theirplaces in a double row, in the same order as that in which they left thechapel in the morning, except that my companion and myself werestationed at the end of the line. Standing thus for a moment, with ourhands placed one on the other over the breast, and hidden in our largecuffs, with our heads bent forward, and eyes fixed on the floor; an oldnun who stood at the door, clapped her hands as a signal for us toproceed, and the procession moved on, while we all commenced therepetition of litanies. We walked on in this order, repeating all theway, until we reached the door of the dining-room, where we were dividedinto two lines; those on the right passing down one side of the longtable, and those on the left the other, till all were in, and eachstopped in her place. The plates were all ranged, each with a knife, fork, and spoon, rolled up in a napkin, and tied round with a linen bandmarked with the owner's name. My own plate, knife, fork, &c. , wereprepared like the rest, and on the band around them I found my new namewritten:--"SAINT EUSTACE. "

There we stood till all had concluded the litany; when the old nun whohad taken her place at the head of the table next the door, said theprayer before meat, beginning "Benedicite, " and we sat down. I do notremember of what our dinner consisted, but we usually had soup and someplain dish of meat, the remains of which were occasionally served up atsupper as a fricassee. One of the nuns who had been appointed to readthat day, rose and began to lecture from a book put into her hands bythe Superior, while the rest of us ate in perfect silence. The nun whoreads during dinner stays afterward to dine. As fast as we finished ourmeals, each rolled up her knife, fork, and spoon in her napkin, andbound them together with the band, and set with hands folded. The oldnun then said a short prayer, rose, stepped a little aside, clapped herhands, and we marched towards the door, bowing as we passed before alittle chapel or glass box, containing a wax image of the infant Jesus. 

Nothing important occurred until late in the afternoon, when, as I wassitting in the community-room, Father Dufrèsne called me out, saying hewished to speak with me. I feared what was his intention; but I darednot disobey. In a private apartment, he treated me in a brutal manner;and from two other priests I afterward received similar usage thatevening. Father Dufrèsne afterward appeared again; and I was compelledto remain in company with him until morning. 

I am assured that the conduct of the priests in our Convent has neverbeen exposed, and is not imagined by the people of the United States. This induces me to say what I do, notwithstanding the strong reasons Ihave to let it remain unknown. Still, I cannot force myself to speak onsuch subjects except in the most brief manner. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Daily Ceremonies--Jane Ray among the Nuns. 

On Thursday morning, the bell rung at half-past six to awaken us. Theold nun who was acting as night-watch immediately spoke aloud:

"Voici le Seigneur qui vient. " (Behold the Lord cometh. ) The nuns allresponded:

"Allons-y devant lui. " (Let us go and meet him. )

We then rose immediately, and dressed as expeditiously as possible, stepping into the passage-way at the foot of our beds as soon as we wereready, and taking places each beside her opposite companion. Thus wewere soon drawn up in a double row the whole length of the room, withour hands folded across our breasts, and concealed in the broad cuffs ofour sleeves. Not a word was uttered. When the signal was given, we allproceeded to the community-room, which is spacious, and took our placesin rows facing the entranced, near which the Superior was seated in avergiere, or large chair. 

We first repeated, "Au nom du Père, du Fils, et du Saint Esprit--Ainsisoit il. " (In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost--Amen. )

We then kneeled and kissed the floor; then, still on our knees, we saida very long prayer, beginning: Divin Jesus, Sauveur de mon âme, (DivineJesus, Saviour of my soul). Then came the Lord's prayer, three HailMarys, four creeds, and five confessions (confesse à Dieu). 

Next we repeated the ten commandments. Then we repeated the Acts ofFaith, and a prayer to the Virgin in Latin, (which, like every thingelse in Latin, I never understood a word of. ) Next we said the litaniesof the holy name of Jesus, in Latin, which was afterward to be repeatedseveral times in the course of the day. Then came the prayer for thebeginning of the day; then bending down, we commenced the Orison Mental(or Mental Orison), which lasted about an hour and a half. 

This exercise was considered peculiarly solemn. We were told in thenunnery that a certain saint was saved by the use of it, as he neveromitted it. It consists of several parts: First, the Superior read to usa chapter from a book, which occupied five minutes. Then profoundsilence prevailed for fifteen minutes, during which we were meditatingupon it. Then she read another chapter of equal length, on a differentsubject and we meditated upon that another quarter of an hour; and aftera third reading and meditation, we finished the exercise with a prayer, called an act of contrition, in which we asked forgiveness for the sinscommitted during the Orison. 

During this hour and a half I became very weary, having before beenkneeling for some time, and having then to sit in another position moreuncomfortable, with my feet under me, my hands clasped, and my body benthumbly forward, with my head bowed down. 

When the Orison was over, we all rose to the upright kneeling posture, and repeated several prayers, and the litanies of the providences, "providence de Dieu, " &c. ; then followed a number of Latin prayers, which we repeated on the way to mass, for in the nunnery we had massdaily. 

When mass was over we proceeded in our usual order to the eating-room tobreakfast, practising the same forms which I have described at dinner. Having made our meal in silence, we repeated the litanies of the "holyname of Jesus" as we proceeded to the community-room; and such as hadnot finished them on their arrival, threw themselves upon their knees, and remained there until they had gone through with them, and thenkissing the floor, rose again. 

At nine o'clock commenced the lecture, which was read by a nun appointedto perform that duty that day; all the rest of us in the room beingengaged in work. 

The nuns were at this time distributed in different community-rooms, atdifferent kinds of work, and in each were listening to a lecture. Thisexercise continued until ten o'clock, when the recreation-bell rang. Westill continued our work, but the nuns began to converse with eachother, on subjects permitted by the rules in the hearing of the oldnuns, one of whom was seated in each of the groups. 

At half-past ten the silence bell rang, and then conversation instantlyceased, and the recitation of some Latin prayers commenced, whichcontinued half an hour. 

At eleven o'clock the dinner-bell rang, and then we proceeded to thedining-room, and went through the forms and ceremonies of the precedingday. We proceeded two by two. The old nun who had the command of us, clapped her hands as the first couple reached the door, when we stopped. The first two dipped their fingers into the font, touched the holy waterto the breast, forehead, and each side, thus forming a cross, said, "Inthe name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Amen, " and then walked onto the dining-room, repeating the litanies. The rest followed theirexample. On reaching the door the couples divided, and the two rows ofnuns marching up, stopped and faced the table against their plates. There we stood, repeating the close of the litany aloud. The old nunthen pronounced

"BENEDICITE, "

and we sat down. One of our number began to read a lecture, whichcontinued during the whole meal: she stays to eat after the rest haveretired. When we had dined, each of us folded up her napkin, and againfolded her hands. The old nun then repeated a short prayer in French, and stepping aside from the head of the table, let us pass out as wecame in. Each of us bowed in passing the little chapel near the door, which is a glass case, containing a waxen figure of the infant Jesus. When we reached the community-room we took our places in rows, andkneeled upon the floor, while a nun read aloud, "Douleurs de notreSainte Marie" (the sorrows of our holy Mary. ) At the end of each versewe responded "Ave Maria. " We then repeated again the litanies of theProvidences, and the

"BENIS, " &c. 

Then we kissed the floor, and rising, took our work, with leave toconverse on permitted subjects; that is what is called _recreation_till one o'clock. We then began to repeat litanies, one at a time insuccession, still engaged at sewing, for an hour. 

At two o'clock commenced the afternoon lectures, which lasted till nearthree. At that hour one of the nuns stood up in the middle of the room, and asked each of us a question out of the catechism; and such as wereunable to answer correctly, were obliged to kneel down, until thatexercise was concluded, upon as many dry peas as there were verses inthe chapter out of which they were questioned. This seems like a penanceof no great importance; but I have sometimes kneeled on peas until Isuffered great inconvenience, and even pain. It soon makes one feel asif needles were running through the skin: whoever thinks it a trifle, had better try it. 

At four o'clock recreation commenced, when we were allowed, as usual, tospeak to each other, while at work. 

At half-past four we began to repeat prayers in Latin, while we worked, and concluded about five o'clock, when we commenced repeating the"prayers for the examination of conscience, " the "prayer afterconfession, " the "prayer before sacrament, " and the "prayer aftersacrament. " Thus we continued our work until dark, when we laid itaside, and began to go over the same prayers which we had repeated inthe morning, with the exception of the orison mental; instead of thatlong exercise, we examined our consciences, to determine whether we hadperformed the resolution we had made in the morning; and such as hadkept it, repeated an "acte de joie, " or expression of gratitude; whilesuch as had not, said an "acte de contrition. "

When the prayers were concluded, any nun who had been disobedient in theday, knelt and asked pardon of the Superior and her companions "for thescandal she had caused them;" and then requested the Superior to giveher a penance to perform. When all the penances, had been imposed, weall proceeded to the eating-room to supper, repeating litanies on theway. 

At supper the ceremonies were the same as at dinner, except that therewas no lecture read. We ate in silence, and went out bowing to thechapelle, and repeating litanies. Returning to the community-room whichwe had left, we had more prayers to repeat, which are called Lacouronne, (crown, ) which consists of the following parts:

 1st, Four Paters, 2d, Four Ave Marias, 3d, Four Gloria Patris, 4th, Benis, &c. 

At the close of these we kissed the floor; after which we had recreationtill half-past eight o'clock, being allowed to converse on permittedsubjects, but closely watched, and not allowed to sit in corners. 

At half-past eight a bell was rung, and a chapter was read to us, in abook of meditations, to employ our minds upon during our waking hours atnight. 

Standing near the door, we dipped our fingers in the holy water, crossedand blessed ourselves, and proceeded up to the sleeping-room, in theusual order, two by two. When we had got into bed, we repeated a prayerbeginning with

 "Mon Dieu, je vous donne mon coeur, " "God, I give you my heart;"

and then an old nun, bringing some holy water, sprinkled it on our bedsto drive away the devil, while we took some and crossed ourselves again. 

At nine o'clock the bell rung, and all who were awake repeated a prayer, called the offrande; those who were asleep were considered as excused. 

After my admission among the nuns, I had more opportunity than before, to observe the conduct of mad Jane Ray. She behaved quite differentlyfrom the rest, and with a degree of levity irreconcilable with therules. She was, as I have described her, a large woman, with nothingbeautiful or attractive in her face, form, or manners; careless in herdress, and of a restless disposition, which prevented her from steadilyapplying herself to any thing for any length of time, and kept herroving about, and almost perpetually talking to somebody or other. Itwould be very difficult to give an accurate description of this singularwoman; dressed in the plain garments of the nuns, bound by the samevows, and accustomed to the same life, resembling them in nothing else, and frequently interrupting all their employments. She was apparentlyalmost always studying or pursuing some odd fancy; now rising fromsewing, to walk up and down, or straying in from another apartment, looking about, addressing some of us, and passing out again, or sayingsomething to make us laugh, in periods of the most profound silence. Butwhat showed that she was no novelty, was the little attention paid toher, and the levity with which she was treated by the old nuns; even theSuperior every day passed over irregularities in this singular person, which she would have punished with penances, or at least have met withreprimands, in any other. From what I saw of her, I soon perceived thatshe betrayed two distinct traits of character; a kind dispositiontowards such as she chose to prefer, and a pleasure in teasing those shedisliked, or such as had offended her. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Description of Apartments in the Black Nunnery, in order. --1st Floor--2dFloor--The Founder--Superior's Management with the Friends of Novices--Religious Lies--Criminality of Concealing Sins at Confession. 

I will now give from memory, a general description of the interior of theConvent of Black nuns, except the few apartments which I never saw. Imay be inaccurate in some things, as the apartments and passages of thatspacious building are numerous and various; but I am willing to risk mycredit for truth and sincerity on the general correspondence between mydescription and things as they are. And this would, perhaps be as good acase as any by which to test the truth of my statements, were itpossible to obtain access to the interior. It is well known, that nonebut veiled nuns, the bishop, and priests, are ever admitted; and, ofcourse, that I cannot have seen what I profess to describe, if I havenot been a Black nun. [Footnote: I ought to have made an exception here, which I may enlarge upon in future Certain other persons are sometimesadmitted. ] The priests who read this book, will acknowledge tothemselves the truth of my description; but will, of course deny it tothe world, and probably exert themselves to destroy or discredit, Ioffer to every reader the following description, knowing that time maypossibly throw open those secret recesses, and allow the entrance ofthose who can satisfy themselves, with their own eyes, of its truth. Some of my declarations may be thought deficient in evidence; and thisthey must of necessity be in the present state of things. But here is akind of evidence on which I rely, as I see how unquestionable andsatisfactory it must prove, whenever it shall be obtained. 

If the interior of the Black Nunnery, whenever it shall be examined, ismaterially different from the following description, then I can claim noconfidence of my readers. If it resembles it, they will, I presume, place confidence in some of those declarations, on which I may never becorroborated by true and living witnesses. 

I am sensible that great changes may be made in the furniture ofapartments; that new walls may be constructed, or old ones removed; andI have been credibly informed, that masons have been employed in thenunnery since I left it. I well know, however, that entire changescannot be made; and that enough must remain as it was to substantiate mydescription, whenever the truth shall be known. 

_The First Story_. 

Beginning at the extremity of the right wing of the Convent, towardsNotre Dame-street, on the first story, there is--

1st. The nuns' private chapel, adjoining which is a passage to a smallprojection of the building, extending from the upper story to theground, with very small windows. Into the passage we were sometimesrequired to bring wood from the yard and pile it up for use. 

2d. A large community-room, with plain benches fixed against the wall tosit, and lower ones in front to place our feet upon. There is a fountainin the passage near the chimney at the farther end, for washing thehands and face, with a green curtain sliding on a rod before it. Thispassage leads to the old nuns' sleeping-room on the right, and theSuperior's sleeping-room, just beyond it, as well as to a staircasewhich conducts to the nuns' sleeping-room, or dortoir, above. At the endof the passage is a door opening into--

3d. The dining-room; this is larger than the community-room, and hasthree long tables for eating, and a chapelle, or collection of littlepictures, a crucifix, and a small image of the infant Saviour in a glasscase. This apartment has four doors, by the first of which we aresupposed to have entered, while one opens to a pantry, and the third andfourth to the two next apartments. 

4th. A large community-room, with tables for sewing, and a staircase onthe opposite left-hand corner. 

5th. A community-room for prayer, used by both nuns and novices. In thefarther right-hand corner is a small room partitioned off, called theroom for the examination of conscience, which I had visited while anovice by permission of the Superior, and where nuns and novicesoccasionally resorted to reflect on their character, usually inpreparation for the sacrament, or when they had transgressed some of therules. This little room was hardly large enough to contain half a dozenpersons at a time. 

6th. Next beyond is a large community-room for Sundays. A door leads tothe yard, and thence to a gate in the wall on the cross street. 

7th. Adjoining this is a sitting-room, fronting on the cross street, with two windows, and a store-room on the side opposite them. There isbut little furniture, and that very plain. 

8th. From this room a door leads into what I may call the wax-room, asit contains many figures in wax, not intended for sale. There wesometimes used to pray, or meditate on the Saviour's passion. This roomprojects from the main building; leaving it, you enter a long passage, with cupboards on the right, in which are stored crockery-ware, knivesand forks, and other articles of table furniture, to replace those wornout or broken--all of the plainest description; also, shovels, tongs, &c. This passage leads to--

9th. A corner room, with a few benches, &c. , and a door leading to agate on the street. Here some of the medicines were kept, and personswere often admitted on business, or to obtain medicines with ticketsfrom the priests; and waited till the Superior or an old nun could besent for. Beyond this room we were never allowed to go; and I cannotspeak from personal knowledge of what came next. 

_The Second Story_. 

Beginning, as before, at the western extremity of the same wing, but onthe second story, the farthest apartment in that direction which I everentered was--

1st. The nuns' sleeping-room, or dormitory, which I have alreadydescribed. Here is an access to the projection mentioned in speaking ofthe first story. The stairs by which we came up to bed are at thefarther end of the room; and near them a crucifix and font of holywater. A door at the end of the room opens into a passage, with twosmall rooms, and closets between them, containing bedclothes. Next youenter--

2d. A small community-room, beyond which is a passage with a narrowstaircase, seldom used, which leads into the fourth community-room, inthe first story. Following the passage just mentioned, you enter by adoor--

3d. A little sitting-room, furnished in the following manner: withchairs, a sofa, on the north side, covered with a red-figured cover andfringe, a table in the middle, commonly bearing one or two books, aninkstand, pens, &c. At one corner is a little projection into the room, caused by a staircase leading from above to the floor below, without anycommunication with the second story. This room has a door opening upon astaircase leading down to the yard, on the opposite side of which is agate opening into the cross street. By this way the physician isadmitted, except when he comes later than usual. When he comes in, heusually sits a little while, until a nun goes into the adjoining nuns'sick-room, to see if all is ready, and returns to admit him. Afterprescribing for the patients he goes no farther, but returns by the wayhe enters; and these two are the only rooms into which he is everadmitted, except the public hospital. 

4th. The nuns' sick-room adjoins the little sitting-room on the east, and has, I think, four windows towards the north, with beds ranged intwo rows from end to end, and a few more between them, near the oppositeextremity. The door from the sitting-room swings to the left, and behindit is a table, while a glass case, to the right, contains a wax figureof the infant Saviour, with several sheep. Near the northeastern cornerof this room are two doors, one of which opens into a long and narrowpassage leading to the head of the great staircase that conducts to thecross street. By this passage the physician sometimes finds his way tothe sick-room, when he comes later than usual. He rings the bell at thegate, which I was told had a concealed pull, known only to him and thepriests, proceeds up-stairs and through the passage, rapping three timesat the door of the sick-room, which is opened by a nun in attendance, after she has given one rap in reply. When he has visited his patients, and prescribed for them, he returns by the same way. 

5th. Next beyond this sick-room, is a large unoccupied apartment, halfdivided by two partial partitions, which leave an open space in themiddle. Here some of the old nuns commonly sit in the day-time. 

6th. A door from this apartment opens into another not appropriated toany particular use, but containing a table, where medicines aresometimes prepared by an old nun, who is usually found there. Passingthrough this room, you enter a passage with doors on its four sides:that on the left, which is kept fastened on the inside, leads to thestaircase and gate; that in front, to private sick-rooms soon to bedescribed. 

7th. That on the right leads to another, appropriated to nuns sufferingwith the most loathsome disease. There were usually a number of strawmattresses, in that room, as I well knew, having helped to carry them inafter the yard-man had filled them. A door beyond enters into a store-room, which extends also beyond this apartment. On the right, anotherdoor opens into another passage; crossing which, you enter by a door--

8th. A room with a bed and screen in one corner, on which nuns were laidto be examined before their introduction into the sick-room lastmentioned. Another door, opposite the former, opens into a passage, inwhich is a staircase leading down. 

9th. Beyond this is a spare-room, sometimes used to store apples, boxesof different things, &c. 

10th. Returning now to the passage which opens on one side upon thestairs to the gate, we enter the only remaining door, which leads intoan apartment usually occupied by some of the old nuns, and frequently bythe Superior. 

11th, and 12th. Beyond this are two more sick-rooms, in one of whichthose nuns stay who are waiting their accouchment, and in the other, those who have passed it. 

13th. The next is a small sitting-room, where a priest waits to baptizethe infants previous to their murder. A passage leads from this room, onthe left, by the doors of two succeeding apartments, neither of whichhave I ever entered. 

14th. The first of them is the "holy retreat, " or room occupied by thepriests, while suffering the penalty of their licentiousness. 

15th. The other is a sitting-room, to which they have access. Beyondthese the passage leads to two rooms, containing closets for the storageof various articles, and two others where persons are received who comeon business. 

The public hospitals succeed, and extend a considerable distance, Ibelieve, to the extremity of the building. By a public entrance in thatpart, priests often come into the nunnery; and I have often seen some ofthem thereabouts, who must have entered by that way. Indeed, priestsoften get into the "holy retreat" without exposing themselves to theview of persons in other parts of the Convent, and have been first knownto be there, by the yard-man being sent to the Seminary for theirclothes. 

The Congregational Nunnery was founded by a nun called SisterBourgeoise. She taught a school in Montreal, and left property for thefoundation of a Convent. Her body is buried, and her heart is kept, under the nunnery, in an iron chest, which has been shown to me, withthe assurance that it continues in perfect preservation, although shehas been dead more than one hundred and fifty years. In the chapel isthe following inscription: "Soeur Bourgeoise, Fondatrice du Couvent"--Sister Bourgeoise, Founder of the Convent. 

Nothing was more common than for the Superior to step hastily into ourcommunity-rooms, while numbers of us were assembled there, and hastilycommunicate her wishes in words like these:--

"Here are the parents of such a novice: come with me, and bear me out inthis story. " She would then mention the outlines of a tissue offalsehoods, she had just invented, that we might be prepared tofabricate circumstances, and throw in whatever else might favor thedeception. This was justified, and indeed most highly commended, by thesystem of faith in which we were instructed. 

It was a common remark made at the initiation of a new nun into theBlack nun department, that is, to receive the black veil, that theintroduction of another novice into the Convent as a veiled nun, causedthe introduction of a veiled nun into heaven as a saint, which was onaccount of the singular disappearance of some of the older nuns at theentrance of new ones!

To witness the scenes which often occurred between us and strangers, would have struck a person very powerfully, if he had known how truthwas set at naught. The Superior, with a serious and dignified air, and apleasant voice and aspect, would commence a recital of things mostfavorable to the character of the absent novice, and representing her asequally fond of her situation, and beloved by the other inmates. Thetale told by the Superior, whatever it was, however unheard before, might have been any of her statements, was then attested by us, who, inevery way we could think of, endeavored to confirm her declarations, beyond the reach of doubt. 

Sometimes the Superior would intrust the management of such a case tosome of the nuns, whether to habituate us to the practice in which shewas so highly accomplished, or to relieve herself of what would havebeen a serious burden to most other persons, or to ascertain whether shecould depend upon us, or all together, I cannot tell. Often, however, have I seen her throw open a door, and say, in a hurried manner, "Whocan tell the best story?"

One point, on which we received frequent and particular, instructionswas, the nature of falsehoods. On this subject I have heard many aspeech, I had almost said many a sermon; and I was led to believe thatit was one of great importance, one on which it was a duty to be wellinformed, as well as to act. "What!" exclaimed a priest one day--"what, a nun of your age, and not know the difference between a wicked and areligious lie!"

He then went on, as had been done many times previously in my hearing, to show the essential difference between the two different kinds offalsehoods. A lie told merely for the injury of another, for our owninterest alone, or for no object at all, he painted as a sin worthy ofpenance. But a lie told for the good of the church or Convent, wasmeritorious, and of course the telling of it a duty. And of this classof lies there were many varieties and shades. This doctrine has beeninculcated on me and my companions in the nunnery, more times than I canenumerate: and to say that it was generally received, would be to tell apart of the truth. We often saw the practice of it, and were frequentlymade to take part in it. Whenever anything which the Superior thoughtimportant, could be most conveniently accomplished by falsehood, sheresorted to it without scruple. 

There was a class of cases in which she more frequently relied ondeception than any other. 

The friends of the novices frequently applied at the Convent to seethem, or at least to inquire after their welfare. It was common for themto be politely refused an interview, on some account or other, generallya mere pretext; and then the Superior usually sought to make asfavorable an impression as possible on the visitors. Sometimes she wouldmake up a story on the spot, and tell the strangers; requiring some ofus to confirm it, in the most convincing way we could. 

At other times she would prefer to make over to us the task ofdeceiving, and we were commended in proportion to our ingenuity andsuccess. 

Some nun usually showed her submission, by immediately stepping forward. She would then add, perhaps, that the parents of such a novice, whom shenamed, were in waiting, and it was necessary that they should be toldsuch, and such, and such things. To perform so difficult a task well, wasconsidered a difficult duty, and it was one of the most certain ways togain the favour of the Superior. Whoever volunteered to make a story onthe spot, was sent immediately to tell it, and the other nuns presentwere hurried off with her under strict injunctions to uphold her inevery thing she might state. The Superior, as there was every reason tobelieve, on all such occasions, when she did not herself appear, hastened to the apartment adjoining that in which the nuns were going, there to listen through the thin partition, to hear whether allperformed their parts aright. It was not uncommon for her to go ratherfurther, when she wanted time to give such explanations as she couldhave desired. She would then enter abruptly, ask, "Who can tell a goodstory this morning?" and hurry us off without a moment's delay, to doour best at a venture, without waiting for instructions. It would becurious, could a stranger from "the wicked world" outside the Conventwitness such a scene. One of the nuns, who felt in a favourable humourto undertake the proposed task, would step promptly forward, and signifyher readiness in the usual way: by a knowing wink of one eye, and slighttoss of the head. 

"Well go and do the best you can, " the superior would say; "and all therest of you must mind and swear to it. " The latter part of the order, atleast, was always performed; for in every such case, all the nunspresent appeared as unanimous witnesses of everything that was utteredby the spokesman of the day. 

We were constantly hearing it repeated, that we must never again lookupon ourselves as our own; but must remember, that we were solemnly andirrevocably devoted to God. Whatever was required of us, we were calledupon to yield under the most solemn considerations. I cannot speak onevery particular with equal freedom: but I wish my readers clearlyto understand the condition in which we were placed, and the means usedto reduce us to what we had to submit to. Not only were we required toperform the several tasks imposed upon us at work, prayers, andpenances, under the idea that we were performing solemn duties to ourMaker, but every thing else which was required of us, we were constantlytold, was something indispensable in his sight. The priests, we admittedwere the servants of God, specially appointed by his authority, to teachus our duty, to absolve us from sin, and to lead us to heaven. Withouttheir assistance, we had allowed we could never enjoy the favour of God;unless they administered the sacraments to us, we could not enjoyeverlasting happiness. Having consented to acknowledge all this, we hadno other objection to urge against admitting any other demand that mightbe made for or by them. If we thought an act ever so criminal, theSuperior would tell us that the priests acted under the direct sanctionof God, and _could not sin_. Of course, then, it could not be wrongto comply with any of their requests, because they could not demand anything but what was right. On the contrary, to refuse to do any thingthey asked, would necessarily be sinful. Such doctrines admitted, andsuch practices performed, it will not seem wonderful when I mention thatwe often felt something of their preposterous character. 

Sometimes we took a pleasure in ridiculing some of the favourite themesof our teachers; and I recollect one subject particularly, which at oneperiod afforded us repeated merriment. It may seem irreverent in me togive the account, but I do it to show how things of a solemn nature weresometimes treated in the Convent, by women bearing the title of saints. A Canadian Novice, who spoke very broken English, one day remarked thatshe was performing some duty "for the God. " This peculiar expression hadsomething ridiculous to the ears of some of us; and it was soon repeatedagain and again, in application to various ceremonies which we had toperform. Mad Jane Ray seized upon it with avidity, and with her aid itsoon took the place of a by-word in conversation, so that we wereconstantly reminding each other, that we were doing this and that thing, how trifling and unmeaning soever, "for the God. " Nor did we stop here:when the superior called upon us to bear witness to one of her religiouslies, or to fabricate the most spurious one the time would admit; tosave her the trouble, we were sure to be reminded, on our way to thestrangers' room, that we were doing it "for the God. " And so it was whenother things were mentioned--every thing which belonged to ourcondition, was spoken of in similar terms. 

I have hardly detained the reader long enough on the subject, to givehim a just impression of the stress laid on confession. It is one of thegreat points to which our attention was constantly directed. We weredirected to keep a strict and constant watch over our thoughts; to havecontinually before our minds the rules of the Convent, to compare theone with the other, remember every devotion, and tell all, even thesmallest, at confession, either to the Superior or to the priest. Mymind was thus kept in a continual state of activity, which proved verywearisome; and it required the constant exertion of our teachers, tokeep us up to the practice they inculcated. 

Another tale recurs to me, of those which were frequently told us tomake us feel the importance of unreserved confession. A nun of ourConvent, who had hidden some sin from her confessor, died suddenly, andwithout any one to confess her. Her sisters assembled to pray for thepeace of her soul, when she appeared, and informed them, that it wouldbe of no use, but rather troublesome to her, as her pardon wasimpossible. [Footnote: Since the first edition, I have found this talerelated in a Romish book, as one of very ancient date. It was told to usas having taken place in our Convent. ] The doctrine is, that prayersmade for souls guilty of unconfessed sin, do but sink them deeper inhell; and this is the reason I have heard given for not praying forProtestants. 

The authority of the priests in everything, and the enormity of everyact which opposes it, were also impressed upon our minds, in variousways, by our teachers. A "Father" told us the following story one day atcatechism. 

A man once died who had failed to pay some money which the priest hadasked of him; he was condemned to be burnt in purgatory until he shouldpay it but had permission to come back to this world, and take a humanbody to work in. He made his appearance therefore again on earth, andhired himself to a rich man as a labourer. He worked all day with thefire burning in him, unseen by other people; but while he was in bedthat night, a girl in an adjoining room, perceiving the smell ofbrimstone, looked through a crack in the wall, and saw him covered withflames. She informed his master, who questioned him the next morning, and found that his hired man was secretly suffering the pains ofpurgatory, for neglecting to pay a certain sum of money to the priest. He, therefore furnished him the amount due; it was paid, and the servantwent off immediately to heaven. The priest cannot forgive any debt dueunto him, because it is the Lord's estate. 

While at confession, I was urged to hide nothing from the priest, andhave been told by them, that they already knew what was in my heart, butwould not tell, because it was necessary for me to confess it. I reallybelieved that the priests were acquainted with my thoughts; and oftenstood in great awe of them. They often told me they had power to strikeme dead at any moment. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Nuns with similar names--Squaw Nuns--First visit to the Cellar--Description of it--Shocking discovery there--Superior's Instructions--Private Signal of the Priests--Books used in the Nunnery--Opinionsexpressed of the Bible--Specimens of what I know of the Scriptures. 

I found that I had several namesakes among the nuns, for there were twoothers who already bore my new name, Saint Eustace. This was not asolitary case, for there were five Saint Marys, and three Saint Monros, besides two novices of that name. Of my namesakes I have little to say, for they resembled most of the nuns; being so much cut off fromintercourse with me and the other sisters, that I never saw anything inthem, nor learnt any thing about them, worth mentioning. 

Several of my new companions were squaws, who had taken the veil atdifferent times. They were from some of the Indian settlements in thecountry, but were not distinguishable by any striking habits ofcharacter from other nuns, and were generally not very different intheir appearance when in their usual dress, and engaged in theircustomary occupations. It was evident, that they were treated with muchkindness and lenity by the Superior and the old nuns; and this Idiscovered was done in order to render them as well contented and happyin their situation as possible. I should have attributed the motives forthis partiality to their wishing that they might not influence others tokeep away, had I not known they were, like ourselves, unable to exertsuch an influence. And therefore, I could not satisfy my own mind whythis difference was made. Many of the Indians were remarkably devoted tothe priests, believing every thing they were taught; and as it isrepresented to be not only a high honor, but a real advantage to afamily, to have one of its members become a nun, Indian parents willoften pay large sums of money for the admission of their daughters intoa convent. The father of one of the squaws, I was told, paid to theSuperior nearly her weight in silver on her reception, although he wasobliged to sell nearly all his property to raise the money. This he didvoluntarily, because he thought himself overpaid by having the advantageof her prayers, self-sacrifices, &c. For himself and the remainder ofhis family. The squaws sometimes served to amuse us; for when we werepartially dispirited or gloomy, the Superior would occasionally sendthem to dress themselves in their Indian garments, which usually excitedus to merriment. 

Among the squaw nuns whom I particularly remember, was one of the SainteHypolites, not the one who figured in a dreadful scene, described inanother part of this narrative, but a woman of a far more mild andhumane character. 

Three or four days after my reception, the Superior sent me into thecellar for coal; and after she had given me directions, I proceeded downa staircase, with a lamp in my hand. I soon found myself upon the bareearth, in a spacious place, so dark, that I could not at oncedistinguish its form, or size, but I observed that it had very solidstone walls, and was arched overhead, at no great elevation. Followingmy directions, I proceeded onward from the foot of the stairs, whereappeared to be one end of the cellar. After walking about fifteen paces, I passed three small doors, on the right, fastened with large iron boltson the outside, pushed into posts of stone-work, and each having a smallopening above, covered with a fine grating, secured by a smaller bolt. On my left, were three similar doors, resembling these, and placedopposite them. 

Beyond these, the space became broader; the doors evidently closed smallcompartments, projecting from the outer wall of the cellar. I soonstepped upon a wooden floor, on which were heaps of wool, coarse linen, and other articles, apparently deposited there for occasional use. Isoon crossed the floor, and found the bare earth again under my feet. 

A little farther on, I found the cellar again contracted in size, by arow of closets, or smaller compartments projecting on each side. Thesewere closed by doors of a different description from the first, having asimple fastening, and no opening through them. Just beyond, on the leftside, I passed a staircase leading up, and then three doors, muchresembling those first described, standing opposite three more, on theother side of the cellar. Having passed these, I found the cellarenlarged as before, and here the earth appeared as if mixed with somewhitish substance, which attracted my attention. 

As I proceeded, I found the whiteness increase, until the surface lookedalmost like snow, and in a short time I observed before me, a hole dugso deep into the earth that I could perceive no bottom. I stopped toobserve it. --It was circular, perhaps twelve or fifteen feet across; inthe middle of the cellar, and unprotected by any kind of curb, so thatone might easily have walked into it, in the dark. 

The white substance which I had observed, was spread all over thesurface around it; and lay in such quantities on all sides, that itseemed as if a great deal of it must have been thrown into the hole. Itimmediately occurred to me that the white substance was lime, and thatthis must be the place where the infants were buried, after beingmurdered, as the Superior had informed me. I knew that lime is oftenused by Roman Catholics in burying-places; and in this way I accountedfor its being scattered about the spot in such quantities. 

This was a shocking thought to me; but I can hardly tell how it affectedme, as I had already been prepared to expect dreadful things in theConvent, and had undergone trials which prevented me from feeling as Ishould formerly have done in similar circumstances. 

I passed the spot, therefore, with distressing thoughts, it is true, about the little corpses, which might be in that secret burying-place, but with recollections also of the declarations which I had heard, aboutthe favor done their souls by sending them straight to heaven, and thenecessary virtue accompanying all the actions of the priests. 

Whether I noticed them or not, at the time, there is a window or two oneach, nearly against the hole, in at which are sometimes thrown articlesbrought to them from without, for the use of the Convent. Through thewindows on my right, which opens into the yard, towards the crossstreet, lime is received from carts; and I then saw a large heap of itnear the place. 

Passing the hole, I came to a spot where was another projection on eachside, with three cells like those I first described. --Beyond them, inanother broad part of the cellar, were heaps of vegetables, and otherthings, on the right; and on the left I found the charcoal I was insearch of. This was placed in a heap against the wall, as I might thenhave observed, near a small high window, like the rest, at which it isthrown in. Beyond this spot, at a short distance, the cellar terminated. 

The top quite to that point, is arched overhead, though at differentheights, for the earth on the bottom is uneven, and in some placesseveral feet higher than in others. 

Not liking to be alone in so spacious and gloomy a part of the Convent, especially after the discovery I had made, I hastened to fill my basketwith coal, and to return. 

Here then I was, in a place which I had considered as the nearestimitation of heaven to be found on earth, among a society where deedswere constantly perpetrated, which I had believed to be most criminal, and I had now found the place in which harmless infants were unfeelinglythrown out of sight, after being murdered. 

And yet, such is the power of instruction and example, although notsatisfied, as many around me seemed to be, that all was righteous andproper, I sometimes was half inclined to believe it, for the priestscould do no sin, and this was done by priests. 

Among the first instructions I received from the Superior, were such asprepared me to admit priests into the nunnery from the street atirregular hours. It is no secret, that priests enter and go out; but ifthey were to be watched by any person in St. Paul's street all day long, no irregularity might he suspected; and they might be supposed to visitthe Convent for the performance of religious ceremonies merely. 

But if a person was near the gate at midnight, he might sometimes form adifferent opinion; for when a stray priest is shut out of the Seminary, or is otherwise put to the need of seeking a lodging, he is always sureof being admitted to the black nunnery. Nobody but a priest or thephysician can ring the bell at the sick-room door; much less can anyothers gain admittance. The pull of the bell is entirely concealed, somewhere on the outside of the gate, I have been told. 

He makes himself known as a priest by a peculiar kind of hissing sound, made by the tongue against the teeth, while they are kept closed, andthe lips open. The nun within, who delays to open the door, untilinformed what kind of an applicant is there, immediately recognizes thesignal, and replies with two inarticulate sounds, such as are often usedinstead of yes, with the mouth closed. 

The Superior seemed to consider this part of my instructions quiteimportant, and taught me the signals. I had often occasion to use them;I have been repeatedly called to the door, in the night, while watchingin a sick room, and on reaching it, heard the short hissing sound I havementioned; then, according to my standing orders, unfastened the door, admitted the priest, who was at liberty to go where he pleased. I willname Mr. Bierze, from St. Denis. 

The books used in the nunnery, at least such as I recollect of them, were the following. Most of these are lecture books, or such as are usedby the daily readers, while we were at work, and meals. These were allfurnished by the Superior, out of her library, to which we never hadaccess. She was informed when we had done with one book, and thenexchanged it for such another as she pleased to select. 

Le Miroir du Chrétien (Christian Mirror), History of Rome, History ofthe Church, Life of Soeur Bourgeoise, (the founder of the Convent), intwo volumes, L'Ange Conducteur (the Guardian Angel), L'Ange Chrétien(the Christian Angel), Les Vies des Saints (Lives of Saints), in severalvolumes, Dialogues, a volume consisting of conversations between aProtestant Doctor, called Dr. D. And a Catholic gentleman, on thearticles of faith, in which, after much ingenious reasoning, the formerwas confuted. One large book, the name of which I have forgotten, occupied us nine or ten months at our lectures, night and morning. L'Instruction de la Jeunesse (the Instruction of Youth), containing muchabout Convents, and the education of persons in the world, with a greatdeal on confessions, &c. Examen de la Conscience, (Examination ofConscience), is a book frequently used. 

I may here remark, that I never saw a Bible in the Convent from the dayI entered as a novice, until that on which I effected my escape. TheCatholic New Testament, commonly called the Evangile, was read to usabout three or four times a year. The Superior directed the reader whatpassage to select; but we never had it in our hands to read when wepleased. I often heard the Protestant Bible spoken of in bitter terms, as a most dangerous book, and one which never ought to be in the handsof common people. 

CHAPTER X. 

Manufacture of Bread and Wax Candles carried on in the Convent--Superstitions--Scapularies--Virgin Mary's pincushion--Her House--TheBishop's power over fire--My Instructions to Novices--Jane Ray--Vacillation of feelings. 

Large quantities of bread are made in the Black Nunnery every week, forbesides what is necessary to feed the nuns, many of the poor aresupplied. When a priest wishes to give a loaf of bread to a poor person, he gives him an order, which is presented at the Convent. The making ofbread is therefore one of the most laborious employments in theInstitution. 

The manufacture of wax candles was another important branch of businessin the nunnery. It was carried on in a small room, on the first floor, thence called the Ciergerie, or wax-room; _cierge_ being the Frenchword for a _wax candle_. I was sometimes sent to read the dailylecture and catechism to the nuns employed there, but found it a veryunpleasant task, as the smell rising from the melted wax gave me asickness at the stomach. The employment was considered rather unhealthy, and those were assigned to it who had the strongest constitutions. Thenuns who were more commonly employed in that room, were Sainte Marie, Sainte Catharine, Sainte Charlotte, Sainte Francis, Sainte Hyacinthe, Sainte Hypolite, and others. But with these, as with other persons inthe Convent, I was never allowed to speak, except under circumstancesbefore mentioned. I was sent to read, and was not allowed even to answerthe most trivial question, if one were asked me. Should a nun say, "whato'clock is it?" I never should have dared to reply, but was required toreport her to the Superior. 

Much stress was laid on the _sainte scapulaire_, or, holyscapulary. This is a small band of cloth or silk, formed and wrought ina peculiar manner, to be tied around the neck by two strings, fastenedto the ends. I have made many of them, having been sometimes set to makethem in the Convent. On one side is worked a kind of double cross, (thus, XX) and on the other I. II. S. , the meaning of which I do notexactly know. Such a band is called a scapulary, and many miracles areattributed to its power. Children on first receiving the communion areoften presented with scapularies, which they are taught to regard withgreat reverence. We were told of the wonders effected by their means, inthe addresses made to us, by priests at catechism or lectures. I willrepeat one or two of the stories which occur to me. 

A Roman Catholic servant woman, who had concealed some of her sins atconfession, acted so hypocritical a part as to make her mistress believeher a _décote_, or a strict observer of her duty. She even imposedupon her confessor, to such a degree, that he gave her a scapulary. After he had given it, however, one of the saints in heaven informed himin a vision, that the holy scapulary must not remain on the neck of sogreat a sinner; and that it must be restored to the church. She lay downthat night with the scapulary round her throat, but in the morning wasfound dead, with her head cut off, and the scapulary was discovered inthe church. The belief was, that the devil could not endure to have soholy a thing on one of his servants, and had pulled so hard to get itoff, as to draw the silken thread with which it was tied, through herneck; after which, by some divine power it was restored to the church. 

Another story was as follows. A poor Roman Catholic was once takenprisoner by the heretics. He had a _sainte scapulaire_ on his neck, when God seeing him in the midst of his foes, took it from his neck by amiracle, and held it up in the air above the throng of heretics; morethan one hundred of whom were converted, by seeing it thussupernaturally suspended. 

I had been informed by the Superior, on my first admission as a nun, that there was a subterraneous passage, leading from the cellar of ourConvent into that of the Congregational Nunnery; but, though I had sooften visited the cellar, I had never seen it. One day, after I had beenreceived three or four months, I was sent to walk through it upon myknees with another nun, as a penance. This, and other penances, weresometimes put upon us by the priests, without any reason assigned. Thecommon way, indeed, was to tell us of the sin for which a penance wasimposed, but we were left many times to conjecture. Now and then thepriests would inform us at a subsequent confession, when he happened torecollect something about it, as I thought, and not because hereflected, or cared much about the subject. 

The nun who was with me led me through the cellar, passing to the rightof the secret burying place, and showed me the door of the subterraneouspassage, which was at the extremity towards the Congregational Nunnery. The reasons why I had not noticed it before, I presume, were that it wasmade to shut close and even with the wall, and all that part of thecellar was whitewashed. The door, which is of wood, and square, openswith a latch into a passage, about four feet and a half high. Weimmediately got upon our knees, commenced saying the prayers required, and began to move slowly along the dark and narrow passage. It may befifty or sixty feet in length; when we reached the end, we opened adoor, and found ourselves in the cellar of the Congregational Nunnery, at some distance from the outer wall; for the covered way is carried intowards the middle of the cellar by two low partitions covered at thetop. By the side of the door, was placed a list of names of the Blacknuns, with a slide, that might be drawn over any of them. We covered ournames in this manner, as evidence of having performed the duty assignedus; and then returned backwards on our knees, by the way we had come. This penance I repeatedly performed afterwards; and by this way, as Ihave occasion elsewhere to mention, nuns from the CongregationalNunnery, sometimes entered our Convent for worse purposes. 

We were frequently assured, that miracles are still performed; and painswere taken to impress us deeply on this subject. The Superior oftenspoke to us of the Virgin Mary's pincushion, the remains of which it ispretended are preserved in the Convent, though it has crumbled quite todust. We regarded this relic with such veneration, that we were afraideven to look at it, and we often heard the following story related, whenthe subject was introduced. 

A priest in Jerusalem once had a vision, in which he was informed thatthe house in which the Virgin had lived, should be removed from itsfoundations, and transported to a distance. He did not think thecommunication was from God, and therefore disregarded it; but the housewas soon after missed, which convinced him that the vision was true, andhe told where the house might be found. A picture of the house ispreserved in the Nunnery, and was sometimes shown us. There are also waxfigures of Joseph sawing wood, and Jesus as a child, picking up thechips. We were taught to sing a little song relating to this, the chorusof which I remember. 

 "Saint Joseph charpentier, Petit Jesus ramassait les copeaux Pour fair bouillir la marmite. "

St. Joseph was a carpenter, little Jesus collected chips to make the potboil. 

I began to speak of miracles, and I recollect a story of one, about afamily in Italy saved from shipwreck by a priest, who were inconsequence converted and had two sons honoured with the priest'soffice. 

I had heard before I entered the Convent, about a great fire whichdestroyed a number of houses in the Quebec suburbs, and which some saidthe Bishop extinguished with holy water. I once heard a Catholic and aProtestant disputing on this subject, and when I went to theCongregational Nunnery, I sometimes heard the children, alluding to thesame story, say at an alarm of fire, "Is it a Catholic fire? Then whydoes not the Bishop run?"

Among the topics on which the bishop addressed the nuns in the Conventthis was one. He told us the story one day, and said he could havesooner interfered and stopped the flames, but that at last, finding theywere about to destroy too many Catholic houses, he threw holy water onthe fire, and extinguished it. I believed this, and also thought that hewas able to put out any fire, but that he never did it, except wheninspired. 

The holy water which the Bishop had consecrated, was considered muchmore efficacious, than any blessed by a common priest; and this it waswhich was used in the Convent in sprinkling our beds. It had virtue init, to keep off any evil spirits. 

Now that I was a nun, I was occasionally sent to read lectures to thenovices, as other nuns had been while I was a novice. There were but fewof us, who were thought capable of reading English well enough, andtherefore, I was more frequently sent than I might otherwise have been. The Superior often said to me, as I was going among the novices:

"Try to convert them--save their souls--you know you will have a higherplace in heaven for every one you convert. "

For whatever reason, Mad Jane Ray seemed to take great delight incrossing and provoking the Superior and old nuns; and often she wouldcause an interruption when it was most inconvenient and displeasing tothem. The preservation of silence was insisted upon most rigidly, andpenances of such a nature were imposed for breaking it, that it was aconstant source of uneasiness with me, to know that I might infringe therules in so many ways, and that inattention might at any moment subjectme to something very unpleasant. During the periods of meditation, therefore, and those of lecture, work, and repose, I kept a strict guardupon myself, to escape penances, as well as to avoid sin; and thesilence of the other nuns, convinced me that they were equally watchful, and from the same motives. 

My feelings, however, varied at different times, and so did those ofmany, if not all my companions, excepting the older ones, who took theirturns in watching us. We sometimes felt disposed for gaiety, and threwoff all ideas that talking was sinful, even when forbidden by the rulesof the Convent. And even when I felt that I might perhaps be doingwrong, I reflected that confession, and certainly penance, would soonwipe off the guilt. 

I may remark here, that I ere long found out several things, importantto be known, to a person living under such rules. One of these was, thatit was much better to confess to a priest, a sin committed against therules, because he would not require one of the penances I most disliked, viz. : those which exposed of me to the observation of the nuns, or whichdemanded self-debasement before them, like begging their pardon, kissingthe floor, or the Superior's feet, &c. , and, besides, he as a confessorwas said to be bound to secrecy, and could not inform the Superioragainst me. My conscience being as effectually unburthened by myconfession to the priest, as I had been taught to believe, I thereforepreferred not to tell my sins to any one else; and this course I foundwas preferred by others for the same good reasons. 

To Jane Ray, however, it sometimes appeared to be a matter of perfectindifference, who knew her violations of rule, or to what penances sheexposed herself. 

Often and often, while perfect silence prevailed among the nuns, atmeditation, or while nothing was to be heard except the voice of thereader appointed for the day, no matter whose life or writings werepresented for our contemplations, Jane would break forth with someremark or question, that would attract general attention, and oftencause a long and total interruption. Sometimes she would make someharmless remark or inquiry aloud, as if through mere inadvertency, andthen her well-known voice, so strongly associated with every thingsingular and ridiculous, would arrest the attention of us all, andgenerally incline us to smile, and even force us to laugh. The Superiorwould then usually utter some hasty remonstrance, and many a time have Iheard her pronounce some penance upon her; but Jane had ever someapology ready, or some reply calculated to irritate still farther, or toprove to every one, that no punishment would be effectual on her. Sometimes this singular woman would appear to be actuated by oppositefeelings and motives; for although she usually delighted in drawingothers into difficulty, and has thrown many a severe penance even uponher greatest favourites; on other occasions she appeared totallyregardless of consequences herself, and preferred to take all the blame, anxious only to shield others. 

I have repeatedly known her to break silence in the community, as if shehad no object, or none beyond that of causing disturbance, or exciting asmile, and as soon as it was noticed, exclaim: "Say it's me, say it'sme!"

Sometimes she would even expose herself to punishments in place ofanother who was guilty; and thus I found it difficult fully tounderstand her. In some cases she seemed decidedly out of her wits, asthe Superior and priests commonly preferred to represent her; butgenerally I saw in her what prevented me from accounting her insane. 

Among her most common tricks were such as these: She gave me the name ofthe "Devout English Reader, " because I was often appointed to make thelecture to the English girls; and sometimes, after taking a seat nearme, under pretence of deafness, would whisper it in my hearing, becauseshe knew my want of self-command when excited to laughter. Thus sheoften exposed me to penances for a breach of decorum, and set me tobiting my lips, to avoid laughing outright in the midst of a solemnlecture. "Oh! you devout English Reader!" would sometimes come upon mesuddenly from her lips, with something in it so ludicrous that I had toexert myself to the utmost to avoid observation. 

This came so often at one time, that I grew uneasy, and told her I mustconfess it, to unburden my conscience; I had not done so before, becauseshe would complain of me, for giving way to temptation. 

Sometimes she would pass behind us as we stood at dinner ready to sitdown, and softly moving back our chairs, leave us to fall down upon thefloor. This she repeatedly has done; and While we were laughingtogether, she would spring forward, kneel to the Superior, and beg herpardon and a penance. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Alarming Order from the Superior--Proceed to execute it--Scene in anupper Room--Sentence of Death, and Murder--My own distress--Reports madeto friends of St. Francis. 

But I must now come to one deed, in which I had some part, and which Ilook back upon with greater horror and pain, than any occurrences in theConvent, in which I was not the principal sufferer. It is not necessaryfor me to attempt to excuse myself in this or any other case. Those whohave any disposition to judge fairly, will exercise their own judgmentin making allowances for me, under the fear and force, the commands andexamples, around me. I, therefore, shall confine myself, as usual, tothe simple narrative of facts. The time was about five months after Itook the veil; the weather was cool, perhaps in September or October. One day, the Superior sent for me and several other nuns, to receive hercommands at a particular room. We found the Bishop and some priests withher; and speaking in an unusual tone of fierceness and authority, shesaid, "Go to the room for the Examination of Conscience, and drag SaintFrancis up-stairs. " Nothing more was necessary than this unusualcommand, with the tone and manner which, accompanied it, to excite in memost gloomy anticipation. It did not strike me as strange, that St. Francis should be in the room to which the Superior directed us. It wasan apartment to which we were often sent to prepare for the communion, and to which we voluntarily went, whenever we felt the compunctionswhich our ignorance of duty, and the misinstructions we received, inclined us to seek relief from self-reproach. Indeed, I had seen herthere a little before. What terrified me was, first, the Superior'sangry manner, second, the expression she used, being a French term, whose [illegible] we had learnt in the Convent, and whose meaning is rathersoftened when translated into _drag_; third, the place to which wewere directed to take the interesting young nun, and the personsassembled there as I supposed to condemn her. My fears were such, concerning the fate that awaited her, and my horror at the idea that shewas in some way to be sacrificed, that I would have given any thing tobe allowed to stay where I was. But I feared the consequence ofdisobeying the Superior, and proceeded with the rest towards the roomfor the examination of conscience. 

The room to which we were to proceed from that, was in the second story, and the place of many a scene of a shameful nature. It is sufficient forme to say, after what I have said in other parts of this book, thatthings had there occurred which made me regard the place with thegreatest disgust Saint Francis had appeared melancholy for some time. Iwell knew that she had cause, for she had been repeatedly subject totrials which I need not name--our common lot. When we reached the roomwhere we had been bidden to seek her, I entered the door, my companionsstanding behind me, as the place was so small as hardly to hold fivepersons at a time. The young nun was standing alone near the middle ofthe room; she was probably about twenty, with light hair, blue eyes, anda very fair complexion. I spoke to her in a compassionate voice, but atthe same time with such a decided manner, that she comprehended my fullmeaning--

"Saint Francis, we are sent for you. "

Several others spoke kindly to her, but two addressed her very harshly. The poor creature turned round with a look of meekness, and withoutexpressing any unwillingness or fear, without even speaking a word, resigned herself to our hands. The tears came into my eyes. I had not amoment's doubt that she considered her fate as sealed, and was alreadybeyond the fear of death. She was conducted, or rather hurried to thestaircase, which was near by, and then seized by her limbs and clothes, and in fact almost dragged up-stairs, in the sense the Superior hadintended. I laid my own hands upon her--I took hold of her too, --moregentle indeed than some of the rest; yet I encouraged and assisted themin carrying her. I could not avoid it. My refusal would not have savedher, nor prevented her being carried up; it would only have exposed meto some severe punishment, as I believed some of my companions, wouldhave seized the first opportunity to complain of me. 

All the way up the staircase, Saint Francis spoke not a word, nor madethe slightest resistance. When we entered with her the room to which shewas ordered, my heart sank within me. The Bishop, the Lady Superior, andfive priests, viz. Bonin, Richards, Savage, and two others, I nowascertained, were assembled for her trial, on some charge of greatimportance. 

When we had brought our prisoner before them, Father Richards began toquestion her, and she made ready but calm replies. I cannot pretend togive a connected account of what ensued: my feelings were wrought up tosuch a pitch, that I knew not what I did, nor what to do. I was under aterrible apprehension that, if I betrayed my feelings which almostovercame me, I should fall under the displeasure of the cold-bloodedpersecutors of my poor innocent sister; and this fear on the one hand, with the distress I felt for her on the other, rendered me almostfrantic. As soon as I entered the room, I had stepped into a corner, onthe left of the entrance, where I might partially support myself, byleaning against the wall, between the door and window. This support wasall that prevented me from falling to the floor, for the confusion of mythoughts was so great, that only a few of the words I heard spoken oneither side made any lasting impression upon me. I felt as if struckwith some insupportable blow; and death would not have been morefrightful to me. I am inclined to the belief, that Father Richardswished to shield the poor prisoner from the severity of her fate, bydrawing from her expressions that might bear a favorable construction. He asked her, among other things, if she was not sorry for what she hadbeen overheard to say, (for she had been betrayed by one of the nuns, )and if she would not prefer confinement in the cells, to the punishmentwhich was threatened her. But the Bishop soon interrupted him, and itwas easy to perceive, that he considered her fate as sealed, and wasdetermined she should not escape. In reply to some of the questions putto her, she was silent; to others I heard her voice reply that she didnot repent of words she had uttered, though they had been reported bysome of the nuns who had heard them; that she still wished to escapefrom the Convent; and that she had firmly resolved to resist everyattempt to compel her to the commission of crimes which she detested. She added, that she would rather die than cause the murder of harmlessbabes. 

"That is enough, finish her!" said the Bishop. 

Two nuns instantly fell upon the young woman, and in obedience todirections, given by the Superior, prepared to execute her sentence. 

She still maintained all the calmness and submission of a lamb. Some ofthose who took part in this transaction, I believe, were as unwilling asmyself; but of others I can safely say, that I believe they delighted init. Their conduct certainly exhibited a most blood-thirsty spirit. But, above all others present, and above all human fiends I ever saw, I thinkSainte Hypolite was the most diabolical. She engaged in the horrid taskwith all alacrity, and assumed from choice the most revolting parts tobe performed. She seized a gag, forced it into the mouth of the poornun, and when it was fixed between her extended jaws, so as to keep themopen at their greatest possible distance, took hold of the strapsfastened at each end of the stick, crossed them behind the helpless headof the victim, and drew them tight through the loop prepared, as afastening. 

The bed which had always stood in one part of the room, still remainedthere; though the screen, which had usually been placed before it, andwas made of thick muslin, with only a crevice through which a personbehind might look out, had been folded up on its hinges in the form of aW, and placed in a corner. On the bed the prisoner was laid with herface upward, and then bound with cords, so that she could not move. Inan instant another bed was thrown upon her. One of the priests, namedBonin, sprung like a fury first upon it, and stamped upon it, with allhis force. He was speedily followed by the nuns, until there were asmany upon the bed as could find room, and all did what they could, notonly to smother, but to bruise her. Some stood up and jumped upon thepoor girl with their feet, some with their knees, and others indifferent ways seemed to seek how they might best beat the breath out ofher body, and mangle it, without coming in direct contact with it, orseeing the effects of their violence. During this time, my feelings werealmost too strong to be endured. I felt stupefied, and was scarcelyconscious of what I did. Still, fear for myself remained in a sufficientdegree to induce me to some exertion, and I attempted to talk to thosewho stood next, partly that I might have an excuse for turning away fromthe dreadful scene. 

After the lapse of fifteen or twenty minutes, and when it was presumedthat the sufferer had been smothered, and crushed to death, Father Boninand the nuns ceased to trample upon her, and stepped from the bed. Allwas motionless and silent beneath it. 

They then began to laugh at such inhuman thoughts as occurred to some ofthem, rallying each other in the most unfeeling manner, and ridiculingme for the feelings which I in vain endeavoured to conceal. They alludedto the resignation of our murdered companion, and one of them tauntinglysaid, "She would have made a good Catholic martyr. " After spending somemoments in such conversation, one of them asked if the corpse should beremoved. The Superior said it had better remain a little while. Afterwaiting a short time longer, the feather-bed was taken off, the cordsunloosed, and the body taken by the nuns and dragged down stairs. I wasinformed that it was taken into the cellar, and thrown unceremoniouslyinto the hole which I have already described, covered with a greatquantity of lime, and afterwards sprinkled with a liquid, of theproperties and name of which I am ignorant. This liquid I have seenpoured into the hole from large bottles, after the necks were brokenoff, and have heard that it is used in France to prevent the effluviarising from cemeteries. 

I did not soon recover from the shock caused by this scene; indeed itstill recurs to me, with most gloomy impressions. The next day there wasa melancholy aspect over everything, and recreation time passed in thedullest manner; scarcely anything was said above a whisper. 

I never heard much said afterward about Saint Francis. 

I spoke with one of the nuns, a few words, one day, but we were allcautioned not to expose ourselves very far, and could not place muchreliance in each other. The murdered nun had been brought to hershocking end through the treachery of one of our number, in whom sheconfided. 

I never knew with certainty who had reported her remarks to theSuperior, but suspicion fastened on one, and I never could regard herbut with detestation. 

I was more inclined to blame her than some of those employed in theexecution; for there could have been no necessity for the betrayal ofher feelings. We all knew how to avoid exposing each other. 

I was often sent by the Superior to overhear what was said by novicesand nuns: when they seemed to shun her, she would say, "Go and listen, they are speaking English;" and though I obeyed her, I never informedher against them. If I wished to clear my conscience, I would go to apriest, and confess, knowing that he dared not communicate what I saidto any person, and that he would not impose as heavy penances as theSuperior. 

We were always at liberty to choose another confessor when we had anysin to confess, which we were unwilling to tell one to whom we shouldotherwise have gone. 

Not long after the murder just related, a young woman came to thenunnery, and asked for permission to see Saint Francis. It was my formerfriend, with whom I had been an assistant teacher, Miss Louise Bousquet, of St. Denis. From this, I supposed the murdered nun might have comefrom that town, or its vicinity. The only answer returned to the inquirywas, that Saint Francis was dead. 

Some time afterward, some of St. Francis' friends called to inquireafter her, and they were told that she had died a glorious death; andfurther told, that she made some heavenly expressions, which wererepeated in order to satisfy her friends. 

CHAPTER XII. 

Description of the Room of the Three States, and the pictures in it--Jane Ray ridiculing Priests--Their criminal Treatment of us atConfession--Jane Ray's Tricks with the Nuns' Aprons, Handkerchiefs, andNightgowns--Apples. 

The pictures in the room of the Three States were large, and painted bysome artist who understood how to make horrible ones. They appeared tobe stuck to the walls. The light is admitted from small and highwindows, which are curtained, and is rather faint, so as to make everything look gloomy. The story told us was, that they were painted by anartist to whom God had given power to represent things exactly they arein heaven, hell, and purgatory. 

In heaven, the picture of which hangs on one side of the apartment, multitudes of nuns and priests are put in the highest places, with theVirgin Mary at the head, St. Peter and other saints far above the greatnumbers of good Catholics of other classes, who were crowded in below. 

In purgatory are multitudes of people; and in one part, called "_Theplace of lambs_, " are infants who died unbaptized. "_The place ofdarkness_, " is that part of purgatory in which adults are collected;and there they are surrounded with flames, waiting to be delivered bythe prayers of the living. 

In hell, the picture of which, and that of purgatory, were on the wallopposite that of heaven, the human faces were the most horrible that canbe imagined. Persons of different descriptions were represented, withthe most distorted features, ghastly complexions, and every variety ofdreadful expression; some with wild beasts gnawing at their heads, others furiously biting the iron bars which kept them in, with lookswhich could not fail to make a spectator shudder. 

I could hardly persuade myself that the figures were not living, and theimpression they made on my feelings was powerful. I was often shown theplace where nuns go who break their vows, as a warning. It is thehottest place in hell, and worse, in every point of view, even than thatto which Protestants are assigned; because they are not so much to beblamed, as we were sometimes assured, as their ministers and the Bible, by which they are perverted. 

Whenever I was shut in that room, as I was several times, I prayed for"les âmes des fidèles trépassés:" the souls of those faithful ones whohave long been in purgatory, and have no relations living to pray forthem. 

My feelings were often of the most painful description, while I remainedalone with those frightful pictures. 

Jane Ray was once put in, and uttered the most dreadful shrieks. Some ofthe old nuns proposed to the Superior to have her gagged: "No" shereplied; "go and let out that devil, she makes me sin morethan all the rest. "

Jane could not endure the place; and she afterward gave names to many ofthe worst figures in the pictures. On catechism-days she would take aseat behind a cupboard-door, where the priest could not see her, whileshe faced the nuns, and would make us laugh. "You are not so attentiveto your lesson as you used to be, " he would begin to say, while we wereendeavouring to suppress our laughter. 

Jane would then hold up the first letter of some priest's name, whom shehad before compared with one of the faces in "hell, " and look so that wecould hardly preserve our gravity. I remember she named the wretch whowas biting at the bars of hell, with a serpent gnawing his head, withchains and padlocks on, Father Dufresne; and she would say--"Does not helook like him, when he comes in to Catechism with his long solemn face, and begins his speeches with, 'My children, my hope is, you have livedvery devout lives?'"

The first time I went to confession after taking the veil, I foundabundant evidence that the priests did not treat even that ceremony, which is called a solemn sacrament, with respect enough to lay aside thedetestable and shameless character they so often showed on otheroccasions. The confessor sometimes sat in the room of examination ofconscience, and sometimes in the Superior's room, and always alone, except the nun who was confessing. He had a common chair placed in themiddle of the floor, and instead of being placed behind a grate, orlattice, as in the chapel, had nothing before or around him. There wereno spectators to observe him, and of course any such thing would havebeen unnecessary. 

A number of nuns usually confessed on the same day, but only one couldbe admitted into the room at the time. They took their places justwithout the door, on their knees, and went through the preparationprescribed by the rules of confession; repeating certain prayers, whichalways occupy a considerable time. When one was ready, she rose from herknees, entered, and closed the door behind her; and no other one evendared touch the latch until she came out. 

I shall not tell what was transacted at such times, under the pretenceof confessing, and receiving absolution from sin: far more guilt wasoften incurred than pardoned; and crimes of a deep die were committed, while trifling irregularities, in childish ceremonies, were treated asserious offences. I cannot persuade myself to speak plainly on such asubject, as I must offend the virtuous ear. I can only say, thatsuspicion cannot do any injustice to the priests, because their sinscannot be exaggerated. 

Some idea may be formed of the manner in which even such women as manyof my sister nuns were regarded the confessors, when I state, that therewas often a contest among us, to avoid entering the apartment as long aswe could, endeavouring to make each other go first, as that was whatmost of us dreaded. 

During the long and tedious days, which filled up the time between theoccurrences I have mentioned, nothing, or little took place to keep upour spirits. We were fatigued in body with labour, or with sitting, debilitated by the long continuance of our religious exercises, anddepressed in feelings by our miserable and hopeless condition. Nothingbut the humors of mad Jane Ray, could rouse us for a moment from ourlanguor and melancholy. 

To mention all her devices, would require more room than is hereallowed, and a memory of almost all her words and actions for years. Ihad early become a favourite with her, and had opportunity to learn moreof her character than most of the other nuns. As this may be best learntfrom hearing what she did, I will here recount a few of her tricks, justas they happen to present themselves to my memory, without regard to theorder of time. 

She one day, in an unaccountable humour, sprinkled the floor plentifullywith holy water, which brought upon her a severe lecture from theSuperior, as might have been expected. The Superior said it was aheinous offence; she had wasted holy water enough to save many soulsfrom purgatory; and what would they not give for it! She then orderedJane to sit in the middle of the floor, and when the priest came, he wasinformed of her offence. Instead, however, of imposing one of thosepenances to which she had often been subjected, but with so littleeffect, he said to her, "Go to your place, Jane; we forgive you for thistime. "

I was once set to iron aprons with Jane; aprons and pocket-handkerchiefsare the only articles of dress which are ever ironed in the Convent. Assoon as we were alone, she remarked, "Well, we are free from the rules, while we are at this work;" and although she knew she had no reason forsaying so, she began to sing, and I soon joined her, and thus we spentthe time, while we were at work, to the neglect of the prayers we oughtto have said. 

We had no idea that we were in danger of being overheard, but ithappened that the Superior was overhead all the time, with several nuns, who were preparing for confession: she came down and said, "How isthis?" Jane Ray coolly replied, that we had employed our time in singinghymns, and referred to me. I was afraid to confirm so direct afalsehood, in order to deceive the Superior, though I had often toldmore injurious ones of her fabrication, or at her orders, and said verylittle in reply to Jane's request. 

The Superior plainly saw the trick that was attempted, and ordered usboth to the room for the examination of conscience, where we remainedtill night, without a mouthful to eat. The time was not, however, unoccupied; I received such a lecture from Jane, as I have very seldomheard, and she was so angry with me that we did not speak to each otherfor two weeks. 

At length she found something to complain of against me, had mesubjected to a penance, which led to our begging each other's pardon, and we became perfectly satisfied, reconciled, and as good friends asever. 

One of the most disgusting penances we ever had to submit to, was thatof drinking the water in which the Superior had washed her feet. Nobodycould ever laugh at this penance except Jane Ray. She would pretend tocomfort us, by saying, she was sure it was better than mere plain, clearwater. 

Some of the tricks which I remember, were played by Jane with nuns'clothes. It was a rule that the oldest aprons in use should go to theyoungest received, and the old nuns were to wear all the new ones. Onfour different occasions, Jane stole into the sleeping-room at night, and unobserved by the watch, changed a great part of the aprons, placingthem by the beds of nuns to whom they did not belong. The consequencewas, that in the morning they dressed themselves in such haste, as neverto discover the mistakes they made, until they were all ranged atprayers; and then the ridiculous appearance which many of them cut, disturbed the long devotions. I laugh so easily, that on such occasions, I usually incurred a full share of penances, I generally, however, got anew apron, when Jane played this trick; for it was part of her object, to give the best aprons to her favourites, and put off the ragged oneson some of the old nuns whom she most hated. 

Jane once lost her pocket-handkerchief. The penance for such an offenceis, to go without any for five weeks. For this she had no relish, andrequested me to pick one from some of the nuns on the way up-stairs. Isucceeded in getting two: this Jane said was one too many; and shethought it dangerous for either of us to keep it, lest a search shouldbe made. Very soon the two nuns were complaining that they had losttheir handkerchiefs, and wondering what could have become of them, asthey were sure that they had been careful. Jane seized an opportunity, and slipped one into a straw bed, where it remained until the bed wasemptied to be filled with new straw. 

As the winter was coming on, one year, she complained to me that we werenot as well supplied with warm night-clothes as two of the nuns shenamed, whom she said she "abominated. " She soon after found means to getpossession of their fine warm flannel nightgowns, one of which she gaveto me, while the other she put on at bed time. She presumed the ownerswould have a secret search for them; and in the morning hid them in thestove, after the fire had gone out, which was kindled a little beforethe hour of rising, and then suffered to burn down. 

This she did every morning, taking them out at night, through thewinter. The poor nuns who owned the garments were afraid to complain oftheir loss, lest they should have some penance laid on them, and nothingwas ever said about them. When the weather began to grow warm in thespring Jane returned the nightgowns to the beds of the nuns, from whomshe had borrowed them, and they were probably as much surprised to findthem again, as they had before been at losing them. 

Jane once found an opportunity to fill her apron with a quantity of fineapples, called _fameuses_, which came in her way, and, hastening upto the sleeping-room, hid them under my bed. Then, coming down, sheinformed me, and we agreed to apply for leave to make our elevens, as itis called. The meaning of this is, to repeat a certain round of prayers, for nine days in succession, to some saint we choose to address forassistance, in becoming more charitable, affectionate or something else. We easily obtained permission, and hastened up-stairs to begin our ninedays' feast on the apples; when, much to our surprise, they had all beentaken away, and there was no way to avoid the disagreeable fate we hadbrought upon ourselves. Jane therefore began to search the beds of theother nuns; but not finding any trace of the apples, she became doublyvexed and stuck pins in those which belonged to her enemies. 

When bedtime came, they were much scratched in getting in bed, whichmade them break silence, and that subjected them to penances. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Jane Ray's Tricks continued--The Broomstick Ghost--Sleep-walking--SaltedCider--Changing Beds--Objects of some of her Tricks--Feigned Humility--Alarm--Treatment of a new Nun--A nun made by stratagem. 

One night, Jane, who had been sweeping the sleeping-room, for a penance, dressed up the broom-stick, when she had completed her work, with awhite cloth on the end, so tied as to resemble an old woman dressed inwhite, with long arms sticking out. This she stuck through a broken paneof glass, and placed it so that it appeared to be looking in at thewindow, by the font of holy water. There it remained until the nuns cameup to bed. The first who stopped at the font, to dip her finger in, caught a glimpse of the singular object, and started with terror. Thenext was equally terrified, as she approached, and the next and thenext. 

We all believed in ghosts; and it was not wonderful that such an objectshould cause alarm, especially as it was but a short time after thedeath of one of the nuns. Thus they went on, each getting a fright inturn, yet all afraid to speak. At length, one more alarmed, or with lesspresence of mind than the rest, exclaimed, "Oh, mon Dieu! Je ne mecoucherais pas!" When the night-watch called out, "Who's that?" sheconfessed she had broken silence, but pointed at the cause; and then, all the nuns assembling at a distance from the window, Jane offered toadvance boldly, and ascertain the nature of the apparition, which theythought a most resolute intention. We all stood looking on, when shestepped to the window, drew in the broomstick, and showed us theridiculous puppet, which had alarmed so many superstitious fears. 

Some of her greatest feats she performed as a sleep walker. Whether sheever walked in her sleep or not, I am unable with certainty, to say. Shehowever often imposed upon the Superior and old nuns, by making themthink so, when I knew she did not; and yet, I cannot positively say thatshe always did. I have remarked, that one of the old nuns was alwaysplaced in our sleeping-room at night, to watch us. Sometimes she wouldbe inattentive, and sometimes fall into a doze. Jane Ray often seizedsuch times to rise from her bed, and walk about, occasionally seizingone of the nuns in bed, in order to frighten her. This she generallyaffected; and many times we have all been awakened, by screams ofterror. In our alarm, some of us frequently broke silence, and gaveoccasion to the Superior to lay us under penances. Many tunes, however, we escaped with a mere reprimand, while Jane usually receivedexpressions of compassion:--"Poor creature! she would not do so if shewere in perfect possession of her reason. " And Jane displayed hercustomary artfulness, in keeping up the false impression. As soon as sheperceived that the old nun was likely to observe her, she would throwher arms about, or appear unconscious of what she was doing, fallingupon a bed, or standing stock-still, until exertions had been made torouse her from her supposed lethargy. 

We were once allowed to drink cider at dinner, which was quite anextraordinary favour. Jane, however, on account of her negligence of allwork, was denied the privilege, which she much resented. The next daywhen dinner arrived, we began to taste our new drink, but it was so saltwe could not swallow it. Those of us who at first discovered it, were, as usual, afraid to speak; but we set down our cups, and looked round, till the others made the same discovery, which they all soon did, andmost of them in the same manner. Some, however, at length, taken bysurprise, uttered some ludicrous exclamation, on tasting the saltedcider, and then an old nun, looking cross, would cry out:--

"Ah! tu casses la silence!" (Ah! you've broken silence. )

And thus we soon got a-laughing, beyond our power of suppressing it. Atrecreation, that day, the first question asked by many of us, was, "Howdid you like your cider?"

Jane Ray never had a fixed place to sleep in. When the weather began togrow warm in the spring, she usually pushed some bed out of its place, near a window, and put her own beside it; and when the winterapproached, she would choose a spot near the stove, and occupy it withher bed, in spite of all remonstrance. We were all convinced that it wasgenerally best to yield to her. 

She was often set to work, in different ways; but, whenever she wasdissatisfied with doing any thing, would devise some trick that wouldmake the Superior, or old nuns, drive her off; and whenever anysuspicion was expressed, of her being in her right mind, she would say, that she did not know what she was doing; that all the difficulty arosefrom her repeating prayers too much, which wearied and distracted hermind. 

I was once directed to assist Jane Ray, in shifting the beds of thenuns. When we came to those of some of the sisters, whom she mostdisliked, she said, now we will pay them for some of the penances wehave suffered on their account; and taking some thistles, she mixed themwith the straw. At night, the first of them who got into bed, felt thethistles, and cried out. The night-watch exclaimed, as usual, "You arebreaking silence there. " And then another screamed, as she was scratchedby the thistles and another. The old nun then called on all who hadbroken silence to rise, and ordered them to sleep under their beds, as apenance, which they silently complied with. Jane and I afterwardconfessed, when it was all over, and took some trifling penance whichthe priest imposed. 

Those nuns who fell most under the displeasure of mad Jane Ray, as Ihave intimated before, were those who had the reputation of being mostready to inform of the trifling faults of others and especially thosewho acted without any regard to honour, by disclosing what they hadpretended to listen to in confidence. Several of the worst tempered"saints" she held in abhorrence; and I have heard her say, that such andsuch, she abominated. Many a trick did she play upon these, some ofwhich were painful to them in their consequences, and a good number ofthem have never been traced to this day. Of all the nuns, however, noneother was regarded by her with so much detestation as Saint Hypolite;for she was always believed to have betrayed Saint Francis, and to havecaused her murder. She was looked upon by us as the voluntary cause ofher death, and of the crime which those of us committed, who, unwillingly, took part in her execution. We, on the contrary, beingunder the worst of fears for ourselves, in case of refusing to obey ourmasters and mistress, thought ourselves chargeable with less guilt, asunwilling assistants in a scene, which it was impossible for us toprevent or delay. Jane has often spoken to me of the suspected informer, and always in terms of the greatest bitterness. 

The Superior sometimes expressed commiseration for mad Jane Ray, but Inever could tell whether she really believed her insane or not. I wasalways inclined to think that she was willing to put up with some of hertricks, because they served to divert our minds from the painful anddepressing circumstances in which we were placed. I knew the Superior'spowers and habits of deception also, and that she would deceive us aswillingly as any one else. 

Sometimes she proposed to send Jane to St. Anne's, a place near Quebec, celebrated for the pilgrimages made to it by persons differentlyafflicted. It is supposed that some peculiar virtue exists there, whichwill restore health to the sick; and I have heard stories told incorroboration of the common belief. Many lame and blind persons, withothers, visit St. Anne's every year, some of whom may be seen travellingon foot, and begging their food. The Superior would sometimes say thatit was a pity that a woman like Jane Ray, capable of being so useful, should be unable to do her duties in consequence of a malady which shethought might be cured by a visit to St Anne's. 

Yet to St. Anne's Jane never was sent, and her wild and various trickscontinued as before. The rules of silence, which the others were soscrupulous in observing, she set at naught every hour; and as for otherrules, she regarded them with as little respect when they stood in herway. She would now and then step out and stop the clock by which ourexercises were regulated, and sometimes, in this manner, lengthened outour recreations till near twelve. At last the old nuns began to watchagainst such a trick, and would occasionally go out to see if the clockwas going. 

She once made a request that she might not eat with the other nuns, which was granted, as it seemed to proceed from a spirit of genuinehumility, which made her regard herself as unworthy of our society. 

It being most convenient, she was sent to the Superior's table to makeher meals after her; and it did not at first occur to the Superior, thatJane, in this manner, profited by the change, by getting much betterfood than the rest of us. Thus there seemed to be always somethingdeeper than anybody at first suspected, at the bottom of everything shedid. 

She was once directed to sweep a community-room, under the sleeping-chamber. This office had before been assigned to the other nuns, as apenance; but the Superior, considering that Jane Ray did little ornothing, determined thus to furnish her with some employment. 

She declared to us that she would not sweep it long, as we might soon beassured. It happened that the stove by which that community-room waswarmed in the winter, had its pipe carried through the floor of oursleeping-chamber, and thence across it, in a direction opposite that inwhich the pipe of our stove was carried. It being then warm weather, thefirst-mentioned pipe had been taken down, and the hole left unstopped. After we had all retired to our beds, and while engaged in our silentprayers, we were suddenly alarmed by a bright blaze of fire, which burstfrom the hole in the floor, and threw sparks all around us. We thoughtthe building was burning, and uttered cries of terror regardless of thepenances, the fear of which generally kept us silent. 

The utmost confusion prevailed; for although we had solemnly vowed neverto flee from the Convent even if it was on fire, we were extremelyalarmed, and could not repress our feelings. We soon learnt the cause, for the flames ceased in a moment or two, and it was found that mad JaneRay, after sweeping a little in the room beneath, had stuck a quantityof wet powder on the end of her broom, thrust it up through the hole inthe ceiling into our apartment, and with a lighted paper set it on fire. 

The date of this alarm I must refer to a time soon after that of theelection riots, for I recollect that she found means to get possessionof some of the powder which was prepared at that time, for an emergencyto which some thought the Convent was exposed. 

She once asked for pen and paper, and when the Superior told her that ifshe wrote to her friends she must see it, she replied, that it was forno such purpose; she wanted to write her confession, and thus make itonce for all. She wrote it, handed it to the priest, and he gave it tothe Superior, who read it to us. It was full of offences which she hadnever committed, evidently written to throw ridicule on confessions, andone of the most ludicrous productions I ever saw. 

Our bedsteads were made with narrow boards laid across them, on whichthe beds were laid. One day, while we were in the bedchamber together, she proposed that we should misplace these boards. This was done, sothat at night nearly a dozen nuns fell down upon the floor on gettinginto bed. A good deal of confusion naturally ensued, but the authorswere not discovered. I was so conscience-stricken, however, that a weekafterward, while we examined our consciences together, I told her I mustconfess the sin the next day. She replied, "Do as you like, but you willbe sorry for it. "

The next day, when we came before the Superior, I was just going tokneel and confess, when Jane, almost without giving me time to shut thedoor, threw herself at the Superior's feet, and confessed the trick, anda penance was immediately laid on me for the sin I had concealed. 

There was an old nun, who was a famous talker, whom used to call LaMère, (Mother). One night, Jane Ray got up, and secretly changed thecaps of several of the nuns, and hers among the rest. In the morningthere was great confusion, and such a scene as seldom occurred. She wasseverely blamed by La Mère, having been informed against by some of thenuns; and at last became so much enraged, that she attacked the oldwoman, and even took her by the throat. La Mère called on all present tocome to her assistance, and several nuns interfered. Jane seized theopportunity afforded in the confusion to beat some of her worst enemiesquite severely, and afterwards said, that she had intended to kill someof the rascally informers. 

For a time Jane made us laugh so much at prayers, that the Superiorforbade her going down with us to morning prayers, and she took theopportunity to sleep in the morning. When this was found out, she wasforbidden to get into her bed again after leaving it, and then she wouldcreep under it and take a nap on the floor. This she told us of one day, but threatened us if we ever betrayed her. At length, she was missed atbreakfast, as she would sometimes oversleep herself, and the Superiorbegan to be more strict, and always inquired, in the morning whetherJane Ray was in her place. When the question was general, none of usanswered; but when it was addressed to some nun near her by name, as, "Saint Eustace, is Jane Ray in her place?" then we had to reply. 

Of all the scenes that occurred during my stay in the Convent, there wasnone which excited the delight of Jane more than one which took place inthe chapel one day at mass, though I never had any particular reason tosuppose that she had brought it about. 

Some person, unknown to me to this day, had put some substance or other, of a most nauseous smell, into the hat of a little boy, who attended atthe altar, and he, without observing the trick, put it upon his head. Inthe midst of the ceremonies he approached some of the nuns, who werealmost suffocated with the odour; and as he occasionally moved fromplace to place some of them began to beckon to him to stand further off, and to hold their noses, with looks of disgust. The boy was quiteunconscious of the cause of the difficulty, and paid them no attention;but the confusion soon became so great, through the distress of some, and the laughing of others, that the Superior noticed the circumstance, and beckoned to the boy to withdraw. All attempts, however, to engage usin any work, prayer, or meditation, were found ineffectual. Whenever thecircumstances in the chapel came to mind, we would laugh out. We had gotinto such a state, that we could not easily restrain ourselves. TheSuperior, yielding to necessity, allowed us recreation for the wholeday. 

The Superior used sometimes to send Jane to instruct the novices intheir English prayers. She would proceed to her task with allseriousness; but sometimes chose the most ridiculous, as well asirreverent passages, from songs, and other things, which she had beforesomewhere learnt, which would set us, who understood her, laughing. Oneof her rhymes, I recollect, began with:

 "The Lord of love, look from above, Upon this turkey hen. "

Jane for a time slept opposite me, and often in the night would rise, unobserved, and slip into my bed, to talk with me, which she did in alow whisper, and return again with equal caution. 

She would tell me of the tricks she had played, and such as shemeditated, and sometimes make me laugh so loud, that I had much to do inthe morning with begging pardons, and doing penances. 

One winter's day, she was sent to light a fire; but after she had doneso, remarked privately to some of us: "My fingers were too cold--you'llsee if I do it again. " The next day, there was a great stir in thehouse, because it was said that mad Jane Ray had been seized with a fitwhile making a fire, and she was taken up apparently insensible, andconveyed to her bed. She complained to me, who visited her in the courseof the day, that she was likely to starve, as food was denied her; and Iwas persuaded to pin a stocking under my dress, and secretly put foodinto it from the table. This I afterward carried to her and relieved herwants. 

One of the things which I blamed Jane most for, was a disposition toquarrel with any nun who seemed to be winning the favour of theSuperior. She would never rest until she had brought such a one intosome difficulty. 

We were allowed but little soap; and Jane, when she found her supplynearly gone, would take the first piece she could find. One day therewas a general search made for a large piece that was missed; when, soonafter I had been searched, Jane Ray passed me and slipped it into mypocket; she was soon after searched herself and then secretly came forit again. 

While I recall these particulars of our nunnery, and refer so often tothe conduct and language of one of the nuns, I cannot speak of somethings which I believed or suspected, on account of my want ofsufficient knowledge. But it is a pity you have not Jane Ray for awitness; she knows many things of which I am ignorant. She must he inpossession of facts that should be known. Her long residence in theConvent, her habits of roaming about it, and of observing every thing, must have made her acquainted with things which would be heard withinterest. I always felt as if she knew everything. She would often goand listen, or look through the cracks into the Superior's room, whileany of the priests were closeted with her, and sometimes would come andtell me what she witnessed. I felt myself bound to confess in suchcases, and always did so. 

She knew, however, that I only told it to the priest or to the Superior, and without mentioning the name of my informant, which I was at libertyto withhold, so that she was not found out. I often said to her, "Don'ttell me, Jane, for I must confess it. " She would reply:

"It is better for you to confess it than for me. " I thus became, evenagainst my will, informed of scenes, supposed by the actors of them tobe secret. 

Jane Ray once persuaded me to accompany her into the Superior's room, tohide with her under the sofa, and await the appearance of a visitor whomshe expected, that we might overhear what passed between them. We hadbeen long concealed, when the Superior came in alone and sat for sometime, when fearing she might detect us in the stillness which prevailed, we began to repent of our temerity. At length however, she suddenlywithdrew, and thus afforded us a welcome opportunity to escape. 

I was passing one day through a part of the cellar, where I had notoften occasion to go, when the toe of my shoe hit something. I trippedand fell down. I rose again, and holding my lamp to see what had causedmy fall, I found an iron ring, fastened to a small square trapdoor. This I had the curiosity to raise, and saw four or five steps leadingdown, but there was not light enough to see more, and I feared to benoticed by somebody and reported to the Superior; so closing the dooragain, I left the spot. At first, I could not imagine the use for such apassage; but it afterward occurred to me, that this might open to thesubterranean passage to the Seminary, for I never before could accountfor the appearance of many of the priests, who often appeared anddisappeared among us, particularly at night, when I knew the gates wereclosed. They could, as I now saw, come up to the door of the Superior'sroom at any hour, then up the stairs into our sleeping-room, or wherethey chose. And often they were in our beds before us. 

I afterward ascertained that my conjectures were correct, and that asecret communication was kept up, in this manner, between the twoinstitutions, at the end towards Notre Dame-street, at a considerabledepth under ground. I often afterward, met priests in the cellar, whensent there for coal and other articles, as they had to pass up and downthe common cellar stairs on their way. 

My wearisome daily prayers and labours, my pain of body, and depressionof mind which were so much increased by penances I had suffered, andthose which I constantly feared, and the feelings of shame, remorse, andhorror, which sometimes arose, brought me into a state which I cannotdescribe. 

In the first place, my frame was enfeebled by the uneasy postures I wasrequired to keep for so long a time during prayers. This alone I thoughtwas sufficient to undermine my health and destroy my life. An hour and ahalf every morning I had to sit on the floor of the community-room, withmy feet under me, my body bent forward, and my head hanging on one side--in a posture expressive of great humility, it is true, but veryfatiguing to keep for such an unreasonable length of time. Often I foundit impossible to avoid falling asleep in this posture, which I could dowithout detection, by bending a little lower than usually. The signal torise, or the noise made by the rising of the other nuns, then woke me, and I got up with the rest unobserved. 

Before we took the posture just described, we had to kneel for a longtime without bending the body, keeping quite erect, with the exceptionof the knees only, with the hands together before the breast. This Ifound the most distressing attitude for me, and never assumed it withoutfeeling a sharp pain in my chest, which I often thought would soon leadme to my grave--that is, to the great common receptacle for the dead, under the chapel. And this upright kneeling posture we were obliged toresume as soon as we rose from the half-sitting posture first mentioned;so that I usually felt myself exhausted and near to fainting before theconclusion of morning services. 

I found the meditations extremely tedious, and often did I sink intosleep while we were all seated in silence on the floor. When required totell my meditations, as it was thought to be of no great importance whatwe said, I sometimes found I had nothing to tell but a dream, and toldthat, which passed off very well. 

Jane Ray appeared to be troubled still more than myself with wanderingthoughts; and when blamed for them, would reply, "I begin very well; butdirectly I begin to think of some old friend of mine, and my thoughts goa-wandering from one country to another. "

Sometimes I confessed my falling asleep; and often the priests havetalked to me about the sin of sleeping in time of meditation. At last, one of them proposed to me to prick myself with a pin, which I haveoften done, and so roused myself for a time. 

My close confinement in the Convent, and the want of opportunities tobreathe the open air, might have proved more injurious to me than theydid, had I not employed a part of my time in more active labours thanthose of sewing, &c. , to which I was chiefly confined. I took partoccasionally in some of the heavy work, as washing, &c. 

The events which I am now to relate, occurred about five months after myadmission into the Convent as a nun; but I cannot fix the time withprecision, as I know not of any thing which took place in the worldabout the same period. The circumstance I clearly remember; but, as Ihave elsewhere remarked, we were not accustomed to keep any account oftime. 

Information was given to us one day, that another novice was to beadmitted among us; and we were required to remember and mention heroften in our prayers, that she might have faithfulness in the service ofher holy spouse. No information was given us concerning her beyond thisfact: not a word about her age, name, or nation. On all similaroccasions the same course was pursued, and all that the nuns ever learntconcerning one another was what they might discover by being together, and which usually amounted to little or nothing. 

When the day of her admission arrived, though I did not witness theceremony in the chapel, it was a gratification to us all on one account, because we were all released from labour, and enjoyed a greatrecreation-day. 

Our new sister, when she was introduced to the "holy" society of us"saints, " proved to be young, of about the middle size, and very good-looking for a Canadian; for I soon ascertained that she was one of myown countrywomen. The Canadian females are generally not handsome. Inever learnt her name, nor any thing of her history. She had chosenSaint Martin for her nun name. She was admitted in the morning, andappeared melancholy all day. This I observed was always the case; andthe remarks made by others, led me to believe that they, and all theyhad seen, had felt sad and miserable for a longer or shorter time. Eventhe Superior, as it may be recollected, confessed to me that she hadexperienced the same feelings when she was received. When bedtimearrived, she proceeded to the chamber with the rest of us, and wasassigned a bed on the side of the room opposite my own, and a littlebeyond. The nuns were all soon in bed, the usual silence ensued, and Iwas making my customary mental prayer and composing myself to sleep, when I heard the most piercing and heart-rending shrieks proceed fromour new comrade. Every nun seemed to rise as if by one impulse, for noone could hear such sounds, especially in such total silence, withoutbeing greatly excited. A general noise succeeded, for many voices spoketogether, uttering cries of surprise, compassion, or fear. It was invain for the night-watch to expect silence: for once we forgot rules andpenances, and gave vent to our feelings, and she could do nothing butcall for the Superior. Strange as it may seem, mad Jane Ray, who foundan opportunity to make herself heard for an instant, uttered anexclamation in English, which so far from expressing any sympathy forthe sufferer, seemed to betray feelings hardened to the last degreeagainst conscience and shame. This caused a laugh among some of thosewho understood her, and had become hardened to their own trials, and ofcourse in a great measure to those of others. 

I heard a man's voice mingled with the cries and shrieks of the nun. Father Quiblier, of the Seminary, I had felt confident, was in theSuperior's room at the time when we retired; and several of the nunsafterward assured me that it was he. The Superior soon made herappearance, and in a harsh manner commanded silence. I heard herthreaten gagging her, and then say, "You are no better than anybodyelse, and if you do not obey, you shall be sent to the cells. "

One young girl was taken into the Convent during my abode there, underpeculiar circumstances. I was acquainted with the whole affair, as I wasemployed to act a part in it. 

Among the novices, was a young lady of about seventeen, the daughter ofan old rich Canadian. She had been remarkable for nothing that I know ofexcept the liveliness of her disposition. The Superior once expressed tous a wish to have her take the veil, though the girl herself had neverhad any such intention, that I knew of. Why the Superior wished toreceive her, I could only conjecture. One reason might have been, thatshe expected to receive a considerable sum from her father. She was, however, strongly desirous of having the girl in our community, and oneday said: "Let us take her in by a trick, and tell the old man she felttoo humble to take the veil in public. "

Our plans then being laid, the unsuspecting girl was induced by us, insport, as we told her, and made her believe, to put on such a splendidrobe as I had worn on my admission, and to pass through some of theceremonies of taking the veil. After this, she was seriously informed, that she was considered as having entered the Convent in earnest, andmust henceforth bury herself to the world, as she would never be allowedto leave it. We put on her a nun's dress, though she wept, and refused, and expressed the greatest repugnance. The Superior threatened, andpromised, and flattered, by turns, until the poor girl had to submit;but her appearance long showed that she was a nun only by compulsion. 

In obedience to the directions of the Superior, we exerted ourselves tomake her contented, especially when she was first received, when we gotround her, and told her we had felt so for a time, but having sincebecome acquainted with the happiness of a nun's life, were perfectlycontent and would never be willing to leave the Convent. An exceptionseemed to be made in her favor, in one respect: for I believe nocriminal attempt was made upon her, until she had been some time aninmate of the nunnery. 

Soon after her reception, or rather her forcible entry into the Convent, her father called to make inquiry about his daughter. The Superior firstspoke with him herself, and then called us to repeat her plausiblestory, which I did with accuracy. If I had wished to say any thing else, I never should have dared. 

We told the foolish old man, that his daughter, whom we all loved, hadlong desired to become a Nun, but had been too humble to wish to appearbefore spectators, and had, at her own desire, been favored with aprivate admission into the community. 

The benefit conferred upon himself and his family, by this act of self-consecration I reminded him, must be truly great and valuable; as everyfamily which furnishes a priest, or a nun, is justly looked upon asreceiving the peculiar favor of heaven on that account. The old Canadianfirmly believed every word I was forced to tell him, took the event as agreat blessing, and expressed the greatest readiness to pay more thanthe customary fee to the Convent. After the interview, he withdrew, promising soon to return and pay a handsome sum to the convent, which heperformed with all despatch, and the greatest cheerfulness. The poorgirl never heard that her father had taken the trouble to call to seeher, much less did she know any thing of the imposition passed upon him. She remained in the Convent when I left it. 

The youngest girl who ever took the veil of our sisterhood, was onlyfourteen years of age, and considered very pious. She lived but a shorttime. I was told that she was ill-treated by the priests, and believeher death was in consequence. 

CHAPTER XV. 

Influencing Novices--Difficulty of convincing persons from the UnitedStates--Tale of the Bishop in the City--The Bishop in the Convent--ThePrisoners in the Cells--Practice in Singing--Narratives, Jane Ray'sHymns, The Superior's best Trick. 

It was considered a great duty to exert ourselves to influence novicesin favor of the Roman Catholic religion; and different nuns, were, atdifferent times, charged to do what they could, by conversation, to makefavourable impressions on the minds of some, who were particularlyindicated to us by the Superior. I often heard it remarked, that thosewho were influenced with the greatest difficulty, were young ladies fromthe United States; and on some of those, great exertions were made. 

Cases in which citizens of the States were said to have been convertedto the Roman Catholic faith, were sometimes spoken of, and always as ifthey were considered highly important. 

The Bishop, as we were told, was on the public square, on the day of anexecution, when, as he said, a stranger looked at him in some peculiarmanner, which made him confidently believe God intended to have himconverted by his means. When he went home, he wrote a letter for him, and the next day found him again in the same place, and gave him theletter, which led to his becoming a Roman Catholic. This man, it wasadded, proved to be a citizen of the States. 

The Bishop, as I have remarked, was not very dignified on all occasions, and sometimes acted in such a manner as would not have appeared well inpublic. 

One day I saw him preparing for mass; and because he had difficulty ingetting on his robe, showed evident signs of anger. One of the nunsremarked: "The Bishop is going to perform a passionate mass. " Some ofthe others exclaimed: "Are you not ashamed to speak so of my lord!" Andshe was rewarded with a penance. 

But it might be hoped that the Bishop would be free from the crimes ofwhich I have declared so many priests to have been guilty. I am far fromentertaining such charitable opinions of him; and I had good reasons, after a time. 

I was often required to sleep on a sofa, in the room of the presentSuperior, as I may have already mentioned. 

One night, not long after I was first introduced there, for thatpurpose, and within the first twelve months of my wearing the veil, having retired as usual, at about half-past nine, not long after we hadgot into bed, the alarm-bell from without, which hangs over theSuperior's bed, was rung. She told me to see who was there; and goingdown, I heard the signal given, which I have before mentioned, apeculiar kind of hissing sound made through the teeth. I answered with alow, "Hum-hum;" and then opened the door. It was Bishop Lartigue, thepresent Bishop of Montreal. He said to me, "Are you a Novice or aReceived?" meaning a Received nun. I answered a "Received. "

He then requested me to conduct him to the Superior's room, which I did. He went to the bed, drew the curtains behind him, and I lay down againupon the sofa, until morning, when the Superior called me, at an earlyhour, about daylight, and directed me to show him the door, to which Iconducted him, and he took his departure. 

I continued to visit the cellar frequently, to carry up coal for thefires, without anything more than a general impression that there weretwo nuns, somewhere imprisoned in it. One day while there on my usualerrand, I saw a nun standing on the right of the cellar, in front of oneof the cell doors I had before observed; she was apparently engaged withsomething within. This attracted my attention. The door appeared toclose in a small recess, and was fastened with a stout iron bolt on theoutside, the end of which was secured by being let into a hole in thestone-work which formed the posts. The door, which was of wood, was sanka few inches beyond the stone-work, rose and formed an arch overhead. Above the bolt was a window supplied with a fine grating, which swungopen, a small bolt having been removed from it, on the outside. The nunI had observed seemed to be whispering with some person within, throughthe little window: but I hastened to get my coal, and left the cellar, presuming that was the prison. When I visited the place again, beingalone, I ventured to the spot, determined to learn the truth, presumingthat the imprisoned nuns, of whom the Superior had told me on myadmission, were confined there. I spoke at the window where I had seenthe nun standing, and heard a voice reply in a whisper. The aperture wasso small, and the place so dark, that I could see nobody; but I learntthat a poor wretch was confined there a prisoner. I feared that I mightbe discovered, and after a few words, which I thought could do no harm, I withdrew. 

My curiosity was now alive, to learn every thing I could about somysterious a subject. I made a few inquiries of Saint Xavier, who onlyinformed me that they were punished for refusing to obey the Superior, Bishop, and Priests. I afterward found that the other nuns wereacquainted with the fact I had just discovered. All I could learn, however, was, that the prisoner in the cell whom I had spoken with, andanother in the cell just beyond, had been confined there several yearswithout having been taken out; but their names, connexions, offences, and everything else relating to them, I could never learn, and am stillas ignorant of as ever. Some conjectured that they had refused to complywith some of the rules of the Convent or requisitions of the Superior;others, that they were heiresses whose property was desired for theconvent, and who would not consent to sign deeds of it. Some of the nunsinformed me, that the severest of their sufferings arose from fear ofsupernatural beings. 

I often spoke with one of them in passing near their cells, when onerrands in the cellar, but never ventured to stop long, or to press myinquiries very far. Besides, I found her reserved, and little disposedto converse freely, a thing I could not wonder at when I considered hersituation, and the characters of persons around her. She spoke like awoman in feeble health, and of broken spirits. I occasionally saw othernuns speaking to them, particularly at mealtimes, when they wereregularly furnished with food, which was such as we ourselves ate. 

Their cells were occasionally cleaned and then the doors were opened. Inever looked into them, but was informed that the ground was their onlyfloor. I presumed that they were furnished with straw to lie upon, as Ialways saw a quantity of old straw scattered about that part of thecellar, after the cells had been cleansed. I once inquired of one ofthem, whether they could converse together, and she replied that theycould, through a small opening between their cells, which I could notsee. 

I once inquired of the one I spoke with in passing, whether she wantedanything, and she replied, "Tell Jane Ray I want to see her a moment ifshe can slip away. " When I went up I took an opportunity to deliver mymessage to Jane, who concerted with me a signal to be used in future, incase a similar request should be made through me. This was a sly wink ather with one eye, accompanied with a slight toss of my head. She thensought an opportunity to visit the cellar, and was soon able to hold aninterview with the poor prisoners, without being noticed by any one butmyself. I afterward learnt that mad Jane Ray was not so mad, but shecould feel for those miserable beings, and carry through measures fortheir comfort. She would often visit them with sympathizing words, and, when necessary, conceal part of her food while at table, and secretlyconvey it into their dungeons. Sometimes we would combine for such anobject; and I have repeatedly aided her in thus obtaining a largersupply of food than they had been able to obtain from others. 

I frequently thought of the two nuns confined in the cells, andoccasionally heard something said about them, but very little. WheneverI visited the cellar and thought it safe, I went up to the first of themand spoke a word or two, and usually got some brief reply, withoutascertaining that any particular change took place with either of them. The one with whom I ever conversed, spoke English perfectly well, andFrench I thought as well. I supposed she must have been well educated, for I could not tell which was her native language. I remember that shefrequently used these words when I wished to say more to her, and whichalone showed that she was constantly afraid of punishment: "Oh, there'ssomebody coming--do go away!" I have been told that the other prisoneralso spoke English. 

It was impossible for me to form any certain opinion about the size orappearance of those two miserable creatures, for their cells wereperfectly dark, and I never caught the slightest glimpse even of theirfaces. It is probable they were women not above the middle size, and myreason for this presumption is the following: I was sometimes appointedto lay out the clean clothes for all the nuns in the Convent on Saturdayevening, and was always directed to lay by two suits for the prisoners. Particular orders were given to select the largest sized garments forseveral tall nuns; but nothing of the kind was ever said in relation tothe clothes for those in the cells. 

I had not been long a veiled nun, before I requested of the Superiorpermission to confess to the "Saint Bon Pasteur, " (Holy Good Shepherd, )that is, the mysterious and nameless nun whom I had heard of while anovice. I knew of several others who had confessed to her at differenttimes, and of some who had sent their clothes to be touched by her whenthey were sick; and I felt a desire to unburden my heart of certainthings, which I was loath to acknowledge to the Superior, or any of thepriests. 

The Superior made me wait a little, until she could ascertain whetherthe "Saint Bon Pasteur" was ready to admit me; and after a timereturned, and told me to enter the old nuns' room. That apartment hastwelve beds, arranged like the berths of a ship by threes; and as eachis broad enough to receive two persons, twenty-four may be lodged there, which was about the number of old nuns in the Convent during the most ofmy stay in it. Near an opposite corner of the apartment was a largeglass case, with no appearance of a door, or other opening, in any partof it: and in that case stood the venerable nun, in the dress of thecommunity, with her thick veil spread over her face, so as to conceal itentirely. She was standing, for the place did not allow room forsitting, and moved a little, which was the only sign of life, as she didnot speak. I fell upon my knees before her, and began to confess some ofmy imperfections, which lay heavy upon my mind, imploring her aid andintercession, that I might be delivered from them. She appeared tolisten to me with patience, but still never returned a word in reply. Ibecame much affected as I went on, and at length began to weep bitterly;and when I withdrew, was in tears. It seemed to me that my heart wasremarkably relieved after this exercise, and all the requests I hadmade, I found, as I believed, strictly fulfilled. I often, afterward, visited the old nuns' room for the same purpose, and with similarresults, so that my belief in the sanctity of the nameless nun, and myregard for her intercession were unbounded. 

What is remarkable, though I repeatedly was sent into that A room todust it, or to put it in order, I remarked that the glass case wasvacant, and no signs were to be found either of the nun or of the way bywhich she had left it; so that a solemn conclusion rested upon my mind, that she had gone on one of her frequent visits to heaven. 

A priest would sometimes come in the daytime to teach us to sing, andthis was done with some parade or stir, as if it were considered, ormeant to be considered as a thing of importance. 

The instructions, however, were entirely repetitions of the words andtunes, nothing being taught even of the first principles of the science. It appeared to me, that although hymns alone were sung, the exercise waschiefly designed for our amusement, to raise our spirits a little, whichwere apt to become depressed. Mad Jane Ray certainly usually treated thewhole thing as a matter of sport, and often excited those of us whounderstood English to a great degree of mirth. She had a very finevoice, which was so powerful as generally to be heard above the rest. Sometimes she would be silent when the other nuns began; I and theSuperior would often call out, "Jane Ray, you don't sing. " She alwayshad some trifling excuse ready, and commonly appeared unwilling to jointhe rest. After being urged or commanded by the Superior, she would thenstrike up some English song, or profane parody, which was rendered tentimes more ridiculous by the ignorance of the Lady Superior and themajority of the nuns. I cannot help laughing now when I remember how sheused to stand with perfect composure and sing, "I wish I was married and nothing to rue, With plenty of money and nothing to do. "

"Jane Ray, you don't sing right, " the Superior would exclaim. "Oh, " shewould reply, with perfect coolness, "that is the English for, 'Seigneur Dieu de clemence, Reçois ce grand pécheur;'"

and, as sung by her, a person ignorant of the language would naturallybe imposed upon. It was extremely difficult for me to conceal mylaughter. I have always had greater exertion to make in repressing itthan most other persons; and mad Jane Ray often took advantage of this. 

Saturday evening usually brought with it much unpleasant work for someof us. We received the Sacrament every Sunday; and in preparation forit, on Saturday evening we asked pardon of the Superior and of eachother "for the scandal we had caused since we last received theSacrament, " and then asked the Superior's permission to receive it onthe following day. She inquired of each nun who necessarily asked herpermission, whether she, naming her as Saint somebody, had concealed anysin that should hinder her from receiving it; and if the answer was inthe negative, she granted her permission. 

On Saturdays we were catechised by a priest, being assembled in acommunity-room. He sat on the right of the door in a chair. He oftentold us stories, and frequently enlarged on the duty enticing novicesinto the nunnery. "Do you not feel" he would say, "now that you aresafely out of the world, sure of heaven? But remember how many poorpeople are yet in the world. Every novice you influence to the blackveil, will add to your honour in heaven. Tell them how happy you are. "

The Superior played one trick while I was in the Convent, which alwayspassed for one of the most admirable she ever carried into execution. Wewere pretty good judges in a case of this kind, for, as may be presumed, we were rendered familiar with the arts of deception under soaccomplished a teacher. 

There was an ornament on hand in the nunnery, of an extraordinary kind, which was prized at ten pounds; but it had been made and exposed to viewso long, that it became damaged and quite unsaleable. We were one dayvisited by an old priest from the country, who was evidently somewhatintoxicated; and as he withdrew to go to his lodgings, in the Seminary, where the country priests often stay, the Superior conceived a plan fordisposing of the old ornament. "Come, " said she, "we will send it to theold priest, and swear he has bought it!"

We all approved of the ingenious device, for it evidently might beclassed among the pious frauds we had so often had recommended to usboth by precept and example; and the ornament was sent to him the nextmorning, as his property when paid for. He soon came to the Convent, andexpressed the greatest surprise that he had been charged with purchasingsuch a thing, for which he had no need and no desire. 

The Superior heard this declaration with patience, but politely insistedthat it was a fair bargain; and we then surrounded the old priest, withthe strongest assertions that such was the fact, and that nobody wouldever have thought of his purchasing it unless he had expressly engagedto take it. The poor old man was entirely put down. He was certain ofthe truth: but what could he do: resist or disprove a direct falsehoodpronounced by the Superior of a Convent, and sworn to by all her holynuns? He finally expressed his conviction that we were right: he wascompelled to pay his money. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Frequency of the Priests' Visits to the Nunnery--Their Freedom andCrimes--Difficulty of learning their Names--Their Holy Retreat--Objections in our minds--Means used to counteract Conscience--IngeniousArguments. 

Some of the priests from the Seminary were in the nunnery every day andnight, and often several at a time. I have seen nearly all of them atdifferent times, though there are about one hundred and fifty in thedistrict of Montreal. There was a difference in their conduct; though Ibelieve every one of them was guilty of licentiousness; while not onedid I ever see who maintained a character any way becoming theprofession of a priest. Some were gross and degraded in a degree whichfew of my readers can ever have imagined; and I should be unwilling tooffend the eye, and corrupt the heart of any one, by an account of theirwords and actions. Few imaginations can conceive deeds so abominable asthey practised, and often required of some of the poor women, under thefear of severe punishments, and even of death. I do not hesitate to saywith the strongest confidence, that although some of the nuns becamelost to every sentiment of virtue and honour, especially one from theCongregational Nunnery whom I have before mentioned, Saint Patrick, thegreater part of them loathed the practices to which they were compelledto submit by the Superior and priests, who kept them under so dreadful abondage. 

Some of the priests whom I saw I never knew by name, and the names ofothers I did not learn for a time, and at last only by accident. 

They were always called "Mon père, " my father; but sometimes, when theyhad purchased something in the ornament-room, they would give their realnames, with directions where it should be sent. Many names, thus learnt, and in other ways, were whispered about from nun to nun, and becamepretty generally known. Several of the priests, some of us had seenbefore we entered the Convent. 

Many things of which I speak, from the nature of the case, mustnecessarily rest chiefly upon my own word, until further evidence can beobtained: but there are some facts for which I can appeal to theknowledge of others. It is commonly known in Montreal that some of thepriests occasionally withdraw from their customary employments, and arenot to be seen for some time, it being understood that they have retiredfor religious study, meditation and devotion, for the improvement oftheir hearts. Sometimes they are thus withdrawn from the world forweeks: but there is no fixed period. 

This was a fact I knew before I took the veil; for it is a frequentsubject of remark, that such or such a Father is on a "holy retreat. "This is a term which conveys the idea of a religious seclusion from theworld for sacred purposes. On the re-appearance of the priest after sucha period, in the church or the streets, it is natural to feel a peculiarimpression of his devout character--an impression very different fromthat conveyed to the mind of one who knows matters as they really are. Suspicions have been indulged by some in Canada on this subject, andfacts are known by at least a few. I am able to speak from personalknowledge: for I have been a nun of Soeur Bourgeoise. 

The priests are liable, by their dissolute habits, to occasional attacksof disease, which render it necessary, or at least prudent, to submit tomedical treatment. 

In the Black Nunnery they find private accommodations, for they are freeto enter one of the private hospitals whenever they please; which is aroom set apart on purpose for the accommodation of the priests, and iscalled a retreat-room. But an excuse is necessary to blind the public, and this they find is the pretence that they make of being in a "HolyRetreat. " Many such cases I have known; and I can mention the names ofpriests who have been confined in this Holy Retreat. They are verycarefully attended by the Superior and old nuns, and their diet mostlyconsists of vegetable soups, &c. , with but little meat, and that fresh. I have seen an instrument of surgery laying upon the table in that holyroom, which is used only for particular purposes. 

Father Tabeau, a Roman priest, was on one of his holy retreats about thetime when I left the nunnery. There are sometimes a number confinedthere at the same time. The victims of these priests frequently sharethe same fate. 

I have often reflected how grievously I had been deceived in my opinionof a nun's condition! All the holiness of their lives, I now saw, wasmerely pretended. The appearance of sanctity and heavenly mindednesswhich they had shown among us novices, I found was only a disguise toconceal such practices as would not be tolerated in any decent societyin the world; and as for peace and joy like that of heaven, which I hadexpected to find among them, I learnt too well that they did not existthere. 

The only way in which such thoughts were counteracted, was by theconstant instructions given us by the Superior and priests, to regardevery doubt as a mortal sin. Other faults we might have, as we were toldover and over again, which, though worthy of penances, were far lesssinful than these. For a nun to doubt that she was doing her duty infulfilling her vows and oaths, was a heinous offence, and we wereexhorted always to suppress our doubts, to confess them without reserve, and cheerfully to submit to severe penances on account of them, as theonly means of mortifying our evil dispositions, and resisting thetemptations of the devil. Thus we learnt in a good degree to resist ourminds and consciences, when we felt the first rising of a question aboutthe duty of doing any thing required of us. 

To enforce this upon us, they employed various means. Some of the moststriking stories told us at catechism by the priests, were designed forthis end. One of these, I will repeat. One day, as a priest assured uswho was hearing us say the catechism on Saturday afternoon, as oneMonsieur ----, a well-known citizen of Montreal, was walking near thecathedral, he saw Satan giving orders to numerous evil spirits who hadassembled around him. Being afraid of being seen, and yet wishing toobserve what was done, he hid himself where he could observe all thatpassed. Satan despatched his devils to different parts of the city, withdirections to do their best for him; and they returned in a short time, bringing in reports of their success in leading persons of differentclasses to the commission of various sins, which they thought would beagreeable to their master. Satan, however, expressed hisdissatisfaction, and ordered them out again; but just then a spirit fromthe Black Nunnery came, who had not been seen before, and stated that hehad been trying for seven years to persuade one of the nuns to doubt, and had just succeeded. Satan received the intelligence with the highestpleasure; and turning to the spirits around him, said: "You have nothalf done your work--he has done much more than all of you. "

In spite, however, of our instructions and warnings, our fears andpenances, such doubts would intrude; and I have often indulged them fora time, and at length, yielding to the belief that I was wrong in givingplace to them, would confess them, and undergo with cheerfulness suchnew penances as I was loaded with. Others too would occasionallyentertain and privately express such doubts; though we all had been mostsolemnly warned by the cruel murder of Saint Francis. Occasionally someof the nuns would go further, and resist the restraints or punishmentsimposed upon them; and it was not uncommon to hear screams, sometimes ofa most piercing and terrific kind, from nuns suffering under discipline. 

Some of my readers may feel disposed to exclaim against me, forbelieving things, which will strike them as so monstrous and abominable. To such, I would say, without pretending to justify myself--You knowlittle of the position in which I was placed: in the first place, ignorant of any other religions doctrines; and in the second, met atevery moment by some ingenious argument, and the example of a largecommunity, who received all the instructions of the priests as ofundoubted truth, and practised upon them. Of the variety andspeciousness of the arguments used, you cannot have any correct idea. They were often so ready with replies, examples, anecdotes andauthorities, to enforce their doctrines, that it seemed to me they couldnever have learnt it all from books, but must have been taught by wickedspirits. Indeed, when I reflect upon their conversations, I amastonished at their art and address, and find it difficult to accountfor their subtlety and success in influencing my mind, and persuading meto anything they pleased. It seems to me, that hardly anybody would besafe in their hands. If you were to go to confession twice, I believeyou would feel very differently from what you do now. They have such away of avoiding one thing, and speaking of another, of affirming this, and doubting or disputing that, of quoting authorities, and speaking ofwonders and miracles recently performed, in confirmation of what theyteach, as familiarly known to persons whom they call by name, and whomthey pretend to offer as witnesses, though they never give you anopportunity to speak with them--these, and many other means, they use insuch away, that they always blinded my mind, and I should think, wouldblind the minds of others. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Treatment of young Infants in the Convent--Talking in Sleep--Amusements--Ceremonies at the public interment of deceased Nuns--Suddendisappearance of the Old Superior--Introduction of the new one--Superstition--Alarm of a Nun--Difficulty of Communication with otherNuns. 

It will be recollected, that I was informed immediately after receivingthe veil, that infants were occasionally murdered in the Convent. I wasone day in the nuns' private sick room, when I had an opportunity, unsought for, of witnessing deeds of such a nature. It was, perhaps, amonth after the death of Saint Francis. Two little twin babes, thechildren of Sainte Catharine, were brought to a priest, who was in theroom, for baptism. I was present while the ceremony was performed, withthe Superior and several of the old nuns, whose names I never knew, theybeing called Ma tante, Aunt. 

The priests took turns in attending to confession and catechism in theConvent, usually three months at a time, though sometimes longerperiods. The priest then on duty was Father Larkin. He is a good-lookingEuropean, and has a brother who is a professor in the college. Hebaptized, and then put oil upon the heads of the infants, as is thecustom after baptism. They were then taken, one after another, by one ofthe old nuns, in the presence of us all. She pressed her hand upon themouth and nose of the first, so tight that it could not breathe, and ina few minutes, when the hand was removed, it was dead. She then took theother, and treated it in the same way. No sound was heard, and both thechildren were corpses. The greatest indifference was shown by allpresent during this operation; for all, as I well knew, were longaccustomed to such scenes. The little bodies were then taken into thecellar, thrown into the pit I have mentioned, and covered with aquantity of lime. 

I afterward saw another new-born infant treated in the same manner, inthe same place; but the actors in the scene I choose not to name, northe circumstances, as everything connected with it is of a peculiarlytrying and painful nature to my own feelings. 

These were the only instances of infanticide I witnessed; and it seemedto be merely owing to accident that I was then present. So far as Iknow, there were no pains taken to preserve secrecy on this subject;that is, I saw no attempt made to keep any of the inmates of the Conventin ignorance of the murder of children. On the contrary, others weretold, as well as myself, on their first admission as veiled nuns, thatall infants born in the place were baptized and killed, without loss oftime; and I had been called to witness the murder of the three justmentioned, only because I happened to be in the room at the time. 

That others were killed in the same manner during my stay in thenunnery, I am well assured. 

How many there were I cannot tell, and having taken no account of thoseI heard of, I cannot speak with precision; I believe, however, that Ilearnt through nuns, that at least eighteen or twenty infants weresmothered, and secretly buried in the cellar, while I was a nun. 

One of the effects of the weariness of our bodies and minds, was ourproneness to talk in our sleep. It was both ludicrous and painful tohear the nuns repeat their prayers in the course of the night, as theyfrequently did in their dreams. Required to keep our minds continuallyon the stretch, both in watching our conduct, in remembering the rulesand our prayers, under the fear of the consequences of any neglect, whenwe closed our eyes in sleep, we often went over again the scenes of theday; and it was no uncommon thing for me to hear a nun repeat one or twoof our long exercises in the dead of night. Sometimes, by the time shehad finished, another, in a different part of the room, would happen totake a similar turn, and commence a similar recitation; and I have knowncases in which several such unconscious exercises were performed, allwithin an hour or two. 

We had now and then a recreation day, when we were relieved from ourcustomary labor, and from all prayers except those for morning andevening. The greater part of our time was then occupied with differentgames, particularly backgammon and drafts, and in such conversation asdid not relate to our past lives, and the outside of the Convent. Sometimes, however, our sports would be interrupted on such days by theentrance of one of the priests, who would come in and propose that hisfete, the birth-day of his patron saint, should be kept by "the saints. "We saints!

Several nuns died at different times while I was in the Convent; howmany I cannot say, but there was a considerable number: I might rathersay, many in proportion to the number in the nunnery. The proportion ofdeaths I am sure was very large. There were always some in the nuns'sick-rooms, and several interments took place in the chapel. When aBlack nun is dead, the corpse is dressed as if living, and placed in thechapel in a sitting posture, within the railing round the altar, with abook in the hand, as if reading. Persons are then freely admitted fromthe street, and some of them kneel and pray before it. No particularnotoriety is given, I believe, to this exhibition out of the Convent;but such a case usually excites some attention. 

The living nuns are required to say prayers for the delivery of theirdeceased sister from purgatory, being informed, as in all other suchcases, that if she is not there, and has no need of our intercession, our prayers are in no danger of being thrown away, as they will be setdown to the account of some of our departed friends, or at least to thatof the souls which have no acquaintances to pray for them. 

It was customary for us occasionally to kneel before a dead nun thusseated in the chapel, and I have often performed that task. It wasalways painful, for the ghastly countenance being seen whenever I raisedmy eyes, and the feeling that the position and dress were entirelyopposed to every idea of propriety in such a case, always made memelancholy. 

The Superior sometimes left the Convent, and was absent for an hour, orseveral hours, at a time, but we never knew of it until she hadreturned, and were not informed where she had been. I one day had reasonto presume that she had recently paid a visit to the priests' farm, though I had no direct evidence that such was the fact. The priests'farm is a fine tract of land belonging to the Seminary, a littledistance from the city, near the Lachine road, with a large old-fashioned edifice upon it. I happened to be in the Superior's room onthe day alluded to, when she made some remark on the plainness andpoverty of her furniture. I replied, that she was not proud, and couldnot be dissatisfied on that account; she answered--

"No; but if I was, how much superior is the furniture at the priests'farm! the poorest room there is furnished better than the best of mine. "

I was one day mending the fire in the Superior's room, when a priest wasconversing with her on the scarcity of money; and I heard him say, thatvery little money was received by the priests for prayers, but that theprincipal part came with penances and absolutions. 

One of the most remarkable and unaccountable things that happened in theConvent, was the disappearance of the old Superior. She had performedher customary part during the day, and had acted and appeared just asusual. She had shown no symptoms of ill health, met with no particulardifficulty in conducting business, and no agitation, anxiety or gloom, had been noticed in her conduct. We had no reason to suppose that duringthat day she had expected anything particular to occur, any more thanthe rest of us. After the close of our customary labours, and eveninglecture, she dismissed us to retire to bed, exactly in her usual manner. The next morning the bell rung we sprang from our bed, hurried on ourclothes as usual, and proceeded to the community-room in double line, tocommence the morning exercises. There, to our surprise, we found BishopLartigue; but the Superior was nowhere to be seen. The Bishop soonaddressed us, instead of her, and informed us, that a lady near him, whom he presented to us, was now the Superior of the Convent, andenjoined upon us the same respect and obedience which we had paid to herpredecessor. 

The lady he introduced to us was one of our oldest nuns, Saint Du ----, a very large, fleshy woman, with swelled limbs, which rendered her veryslow in walking, and often gave her great distress. Not a word wasdropped from which we could conjecture the cause of this change, nor ofthe fate of the old Superior. I took the first opportunity to inquire ofone of the nuns, whom I dared talk to, what had become of her; but Ifound them as ignorant as myself, though suspicious that she had beenmurdered by the orders of the Bishop. Never did I obtain any light onher mysterious disappearance. I am confident, however, that if theBishop wished to get rid of her privately and by foul means, he hadample opportunities and power at his command. Jane Ray, as usual, couldnot allow such an occurrence to pass by without intimating her ownsuspicions more plainly than any other of the nuns would have dared todo. She spoke out one day, in the community-room, and said, "I'm goingto have a hunt in the cellar for my old Superior. "

"Hush, Jane Ray!" exclaimed some of the nuns, "you'll be punished. "

"My mother used to tell me, " replied Jane, "never to be afraid of theface of a man. "

It cannot be thought strange that we were superstitious. Some were moreeasily terrified than others, by unaccountable sights and sounds; butall of us believed in the power and occasional appearance of spirits, and were ready to look for them at almost any time. I have seen severalinstances of alarm caused by such superstition, and have experienced itmyself more than once. I was one day sitting mending aprons, beside oneof the old nuns, in a community-room, while the litanies were repeating;as I was very easy to laugh, Saint Ignace or Agnes, came in, walked upto her with much agitation, and began to whisper in her ear. She usuallytalked but little, and that made me more curious to know what was thematter with her. I overheard her say to the old nun, in much alarm, thatin the cellar from which she had just returned, she had heard the mostdreadful groans that ever came from any being. This was enough to giveme uneasiness. I could not account for the appearance of an evil spiritin any part of the Convent, for I had been assured that the only oneever known there, was that of the nun who had died with an unconfessedsin, and that others were kept at a distance by the holy water that wasrather profusely used in different parts of the nunnery. Still, Ipresumed that the sounds heard by Saint Ignace must have proceeded fromsome devil, and I felt great dread at the thought of visiting the cellaragain. I determined to seek further information of the terrified nun;but when I addressed her on the subject, at recreation-time, the firstopportunity I could find, she replied, that I was always trying to makeher break silence, and walked off to another group in the room, so thatI could obtain no satisfaction. 

It is remarkable that in our nunnery, we were almost entirely cut offfrom the means of knowing anything, even of each other. There were manynuns whom I know nothing of to this day, after having been in the samerooms with them every day and night for many months. There was a nun, whom I supposed to be in the Convent, and whom I was anxious to learnsomething about from the time of my entrance as a novice; but I neverwas able to learn anything concerning her, not even whether she was inthe nunnery or not, whether alive or dead. She was the daughter of arich family, residing at Point aux Trembles, of whom I had heard mymother speak before I entered the Convent. The name of her family Ithink was Lafayette, and she was thought to be from Europe. She wasknown to have taken the black veil; but as I was not acquainted with thename of the Saint she had assumed, and I could not describe her in "theworld, " all my inquiries and observations proved entirely in vain. I hadheard before my entrance into the Convent, that one of the nuns had madeher escape from it during the last war, and, once inquired about her ofthe Superior. She admitted that such was the fact; but I was never ableto learn any particulars concerning her name, origin, or manner ofescape. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Disappearance of Nuns--St. Pierre--Gags--My temporary Confinement in aCell--The Cholera Season--How to avoid it--Occupation in the Conventduring the Pestilence--Manufacture of Wax Candles--The Election Riots--Alarm among the Nuns--Preparations for defence--Penances. 

I am unable to say how many nuns disappeared while I was in the Convent. There were several. One was a young lady called St. Pierre, I think, butam not certain of her name. There were two nuns by this name. I hadknown her as a novice with me. She had been a novice about two years anda half before I became one. She was rather large without being tall andhad rather dark hair and eyes. She disappeared unaccountably, andnothing was said of her except what I heard in whispers from a few ofthe nuns, as we found moments when we could speak unobserved. 

Some told me they thought she must have left the Convent; and I mighthave supposed so, had I not some time afterward found some of her thingslying about, which she would, in such a case, doubtless have taken withher. I never had known any thing more of her than what I could observeor conjecture. I had always, however, the idea that her parents orfriends were wealthy, for she sometimes received clothes and otherthings, which were very rich. 

Another nun, named Saint Paul, died suddenly; but as in other cases, weknew so little, or rather were so entirely ignorant of the cause andcircumstances that we could only conjecture; and being forbidden toconverse freely on that or any other subject, thought but little aboutit. I have mentioned that a number of veiled nuns thus mysteriouslydisappeared during my residence among them. I cannot, perhaps, recallthem all, but I am confident there were as many as five, and I thinkmore. All that we knew in such cases was, that one of our number who hadappeared as usual when last observed, was nowhere to be seen, and neverwas again. Mad Jane Ray, on several such occasions, would indulge in herbold, and, as we thought, dangerous remarks. She had intimated that someof those, who had been for a time in the Convent, were by some meansremoved to make way for new ones; and it was generally the fact, thatthe disappearance of one and the introduction of another into ourcommunity, were nearly at the same time. I have repeatedly heard JaneRay say, with one of her significant looks, "When you appear, somebodyelse disappears!"

It is unpleasant enough to distress or torture one's self; but there issomething worse in being tormented by others, especially where theyresort to force, and show a pleasure in compelling you, and leave you nohope of escape, or opportunity to resist. I had seen the gags repeatedlyin use, and sometimes applied with a roughness which seemed ratherinhuman; but it is one thing to see and another thing to feel. Therewere some of the old nuns who seemed to take pleasure in oppressingthose who fell under their displeasure. They were ready to recommend orresort to compulsory measures, and ever ready to run for the gags. Thesewere kept in one of the community-rooms, in a drawer between twoclosets; and there a stock of about fifty of them was always indeposite. Sometimes a number of nuns would prove refractory at a time;and I have seen battles commenced in which several appeared on bothsides. The disobedient were, however, soon overpowered: and to preventtheir screams from being heard beyond the walls, gagging commencedimmediately. I have seen half a dozen lying, gagged and bound at once. 

I have been subjected to the same state of involuntary silence more thanonce; for sometimes I became excited to a state of desperation by themeasures used against me, and then conducted in a manner perhaps notless violent than some others. My hands had been tied behind me, and agag put into my mouth, sometimes with such force and rudeness as tolacerate my lips and cause the blood to flow freely. 

Treatment of this kind is apt to teach submission, and many times I haveacquiesced under orders received, or wishes expressed, with a fear of arecurrence to some severe measures. 

One day I had incurred the anger of the Superior in a greater degreethan usual, and it was ordered that I should be taken to one of thecells. I was taken by some of the nuns, bound and gagged, carried downthe stairs in the cellar, and laid upon the floor. Not long afterward Iinduced one of the nuns to request the Superior to come down and see me;and on making some acknowledgment I was released. I will, however, relate this story rather more in detail. 

On that day I had been engaged with Jane Ray, in carrying into effect aplan of revenge upon another person, when I fell under the vindictivespirit of some of the old nuns, and suffered severely. The Superiorordered me to the cells, and a scene of violence commenced which I willnot attempt to describe, nor the precise circumstances which led to it. Suffice it to say, that after exhausting my strength, by resisting aslong as I could against several nuns, I had my hands drawn behind myback, a leathern band passed first round my thumbs, then round my hands, and then round my waist, and fastened. This was drawn so tight that itcut through the flesh of my thumbs, making wounds, the scars of whichstill remain. A gag was then forced into my mouth, not indeed soviolently as it sometimes was, but roughly enough; after which I wastaken by main force, and carried down into the cellar, across it almostto the opposite extremity, and brought to the last of the second rangeof cells on the left hand. The door was opened, and I was thrown in withviolence, and left alone, the door being immediately closed and boltedon the outside. The bare ground was under me, cold and hard as if it hadbeen beaten down even. I lay still, in the position in which I hadfallen, as it would have been difficult for me to move, confined as Iwas, and exhausted by my exertions; and the shock of my fall, and mywretched state of desperation and fear, disinclined me from any furtherattempt. I was in almost total darkness, there being nothing perceptibleexcept a slight glimmer of light which came in through the little windowfar above me. 

How long I remained in that condition I can only conjecture. It seemedto me a long time, and must have been two or three hours. I did notmove, expecting to die there, and in a state of distress which I cannotdescribe, from the tight bandage about my hands, and the gag holding myjaws apart at their greatest extension. I am confident I must have diedbefore morning, if, as I then expected, I had been left there all night. By-and-by, however, the bolt was drawn, the door opened, and Jane Rayspoke to me in a tone of kindness. She had taken an opportunity to slipinto the cellar unnoticed on purpose to see me. She unbound the gag, andtook it out of my mouth, and told me she would do any thing to get meout of my dungeon. If she had had the bringing of me down, she would nothave thrust me so brutally, and she would be revenged on those who had. She offered to throw herself upon her knees before the Superior and begher forgiveness. To this I would not consent; but told her to ask theSuperior to come to me, as I wished to speak to her. This I had no ideashe would condescend to do; but Jane had not been gone long before theSuperior came, and asked if I had repented in the sight of God for whatI had done. I replied in the affirmative; and after a lecture of somelength on the pain I had given the Virgin Mary by my conduct, she askedwhether I was willing to ask pardon of all the nuns for the scandal Ihad caused them by my behaviour. To this I made no objection; and I wasthen released from my prison and my bonds, went up to the community-room, and kneeling before all the sisters in succession begged theforgiveness and prayers of each. 

Among the marks which I still bear of the wounds received from penancesand violence, are the scars left by the belt with which I repeatedlytortured myself, for the mortification of my spirit. These are mostdistinct on my side; for although the band, which was four or fiveinches in breadth, and extended round the waist, was stuck full of sharpiron points in all parts, it was sometimes crowded most against my side, by rocking in my chair, and the wounds were usually deeper there thananywhere else. 

My thumbs were several times cut severely by the tight drawing of theband used to confine my arms, and the scars are still visible upon them. 

The rough gagging which I several times endured wounded my lips verymuch; for it was common, in that operation, to thrust the gag hardagainst the teeth, and catch one or both the lips, which were sometimescut. The object was to stop the screams made by the offender as soon aspossible; and some of the old nuns delighted in tormenting us. A gag wasonce forced into my mouth which had a large splinter upon it, and thiscut through my under lip, in front, leaving to this day a scar abouthalf an inch long. The same lip was several times wounded, as well asthe other; but one day worse than ever, when a narrow piece was cut offfrom the left side of it, by being pinched between the gag and the underfore-teeth; and this has left an inequality in it which is still veryobservable. 

One of the most shocking stories I heard of events that had occurred inthe nunnery before my acquaintance with it, was the following, which wastold me by Jane. What is uncommon, I can fix the date when I heard it. It was on New-Year's day, 1834. The ceremonies, customary in the earlypart of that day, had been performed; after mass, in the morning, theSuperior had shaken hands with all the nuns, and given us her blessing, for she was said to have received power from heaven to do so only once ayear, and then on the first day of the year. Besides this, cakes, raisins, &c. Are distributed to the nuns on that day. 

While in the community-room, I had taken a seat just within thecupboard-door, where I often found a partial shelter from observationwith Jane, when a conversation incidentally began between us. Ourpractice often was, to take places there beside one of the old nuns, awaiting the time when she would go away for a little while and leave uspartially screened from the observation of others. On that occasion, Jane and I were left for a time alone; when after some discourse onsuicide, she remarked, that three nuns once killed themselves in theConvent. This happened, she said, not long after her reception, and Iknew, therefore, that it was several years before, for she had beenreceived a considerable time before I had become a novice. Three youngladies, she informed me, took the veil together, or very near the sametime, I am not certain which. I know they have four robes in theConvent, to be worn during the ceremony of taking the veil; but I havenever seen more than one of them used at a time. 

Two of the new nuns were sisters, and the other their cousin. They hadbeen received but a few days, when information was given one morningthat they had been found dead in their beds, amid a profusion of blood. Jane Ray said, she saw their corpses, and that they appeared to havekilled themselves, by opening veins in their arms with a knife they hadobtained, and all had bled to death together. What was extraordinary, Jane Ray added, that she had heard no noise, and that she believednobody had suspected that any thing was wrong during the night. SaintHypolite, however, had stated, that she found them in the morning, afterthe other nuns had gone to prayers, lying lifeless in their beds. 

For some reason or other, their death was not made public; but theirbodies, instead of being exhibited in full dress in the chapel, andafterward interred with solemnity beneath it, were taken unceremoniouslyinto the cellar, and thrown into the hole I have so often mentioned. 

There were a few instances, and only a few, in which we knew any thingthat was happening in the world; and even then our knowledge did notextend out of the city. I can recall but three occasions of this kind. Two of them were when the cholera prevailed in Montreal; and the otherwas the election riots. The appearance of the cholera, in both seasonsof its ravages, gave us abundance of occupation. Indeed, we were moreborne down by hard labor at those times, than ever before or afterwardduring my stay. The Pope had given early notice that the burning of waxcandles would afford protection from the disease, because so long as anyperson continued to burn one, the Virgin Mary would intercede for him. No sooner, therefore, had the alarming disease made its appearance inMontreal, than a long wax candle was lighted in the Convent for each ofthe inmates, so that all parts of it in use were artificiallyilluminated day and night. Thus a great many candles were keptconstantly burning, which were to be replaced from those manufactured bythe nuns. But this was a trifle. The Pope's message having beenpromulgated in the Grey Nunnery, the Congregational Nunnery, and toCatholics at large, through the pulpits, an extraordinary demand wascreated for wax candles, to supply which we were principally dependedupon. All who could be employed in making them were therefore set atwork, and I among the rest, assisted in different departments, andwitnessed all. 

Numbers of the nuns had been long familiar with the business; for a veryconsiderable amount of wax had been annually manufactured in theConvent; but now the works were much extended, and other occupations ina great degree laid aside. Large quantities of wax were received in thebuilding, which was said to have been imported from England; kettleswere placed in some of the working-rooms, in which it was clarified byheat over coal fires, and when prepared, the process of dippingcommenced. The wicks which were quite long, were placed hanging upon areel, taken up and dipped in succession, until, after many slowrevolutions of the reel, the candles were of the proper size. They werethen taken to a part of the room where tables were prepared for rollingthem smooth. This is done by passing a roller over them, until theybecame even and polished, after which they are laid by for sale. Theseprocesses caused a constant bustle in several of the rooms; and themelancholy reports from without, of the ravages of the cholera, with theuncertainty of what might be the result with us, notwithstanding thepromised intercession of the Virgin, and the brilliant lights constantlyburning in such numbers around us, impressed the scenes I used towitness very deeply on my mind. I had very little doubt myself of thestrict truth of the story we had heard of the security conferred uponthose who burnt candles, and yet I sometimes had serious fears arise inmy mind. These thoughts, however, I did my utmost to regard as greatsins, and evidences of my own want of faith. 

It was during that period that I formed a partial acquaintance withseveral Grey nuns, who used to come frequently for supplies of candlesfor their Convent. I had no opportunity to converse with them, except sofar as the purchase and sale of the articles they required. I becamefamiliar with their countenances and appearances, but was unable tojudge of their characters or feelings. Concerning the rules and habitsprevailing in the Grey Nunnery; I therefore remained as ignorant as if Ihad been a thousand miles off; and they had no better opportunity tolearn anything of us beyond what they could see around them in the roomwhere the candles were sold. 

We supplied the Congregational Nunnery also with wax candles, as Ibefore remarked; and in both those institutions, it was understood aconstant illumination was kept up. Citizens were also frequently runningin to buy candles, in great and small quantities, so that the businessof storekeeping was far more laborious than common. 

We were confirmed in our faith in the intercession of the Virgin, whenwe found that we remained safe from the cholera; and it is a remarkablefact, that not one case of that disease existed in the nunnery, duringeither of the seasons in which it proved so fatal in the city. 

When the election riots prevailed in Montreal, the city was thrown intogeneral alarm; we heard some reports, from day to day, which made usanxious for ourselves. Nothing, however, gave me any serious thoughtsuntil I saw uncommon movements in some parts of the nunnery, andascertained, to my own satisfaction, that there was a large quantity ofgunpowder stored in some secret place within the walls, and that some ofit was removed, or prepared for use, under the direction of theSuperior. 

I have mentioned several penances, in different parts of this narrative, which we sometimes had to perform. There is a great variety of them;and, while some, though trifling in appearance, became very painful, bylong endurance, or frequent repetition; others are severe in theirnature, and would never be submitted to unless through fear of somethingworse, or a real belief in efficacy to remove guilt. I will mention heresuch as I recollect, which can be named without offending a virtuousear; for some there were, which, although I have been compelled tosubmit to, either by misled conscience, or the fear of severepunishments, now that I am better able to judge of my duties, and atliberty to act, I would not mention or describe. 

Kissing the floor, is a very common penance; kneeling and kissing thefeet of the other nuns, is another: as are kneeling on hard peas, andwalking with them in the shoes. We had repeatedly to walk on our kneesthrough the subterranean passage, leading to the Congregational Nunnery;and sometimes to eat our meals with a rope round our necks. Sometimes wewere fed only with such things as we most disliked. Garlic was given tome on this account, because I had a strong antipathy against it. Eelswere repeatedly given to some of us, because we felt an unconquerablerepugnance to them, on account of reports we had heard of their feedingon dead carcasses, in the river St. Lawrence. It was no uncommon thingfor us to be required to drink the water in which the Superior hadwashed her feet. Sometimes we were required to brand ourselves with ahot iron, so as to leave scars; at other times to whip our naked fleshwith several small rods, before a private altar, until we drew blood. Ican assert, with the perfect knowledge of the fact, that many of thenuns bear the scars of these wounds. 

One of our penances was to stand for a length of time, with our armsextended, in imitation of the Saviour on the cross. The _Chemin de laCroix_, or Road to the Cross, is, in fact, a penance, though itconsists of a variety of prostrations, with the repetition of manyprayers, occupying two or three hours. This we had to performfrequently, going into the chapel, and falling before each chapelle insuccession, at each time commemorating some particular act orcircumstance reported of the Saviour's progress to the place of hiscrucifixion. Sometimes we were obliged to sleep on the floor in thewinter, with nothing over us but a single sheet; and sometimes to chew apiece of window-glass to a fine powder, in the presence of the Superior. 

We had sometimes to wear leathern belts stuck full of sharp metallicpoints round our waists, and the upper part of our arms, bound on sotight that they penetrated the flesh, and drew blood. 

Some of the penances was so severe, that they seemed too much to beendured; and when they were imposed, the nuns who were to suffer them, sometimes showed the most violent repugnance. They would often resist, and still oftener express their opposition by exclamations and screams. 

Never, however, was any noise heard from them, for a long time for therewas a remedy always ready to be applied in cases of the kind. The gagwhich was put into the month of the unfortunate Saint Francis, had beenbrought from a place where there were forty or fifty others, ofdifferent shapes and sizes. These I have seen in their depository, whichis a drawer between two closets, in one of the community-rooms. Wheneverany loud noise was made, one of these instruments was demanded, andgagging commenced at once. I have known many, many instances, andsometimes five or six nuns gagged at once. Sometimes they would becomeso much excited before they could be bound and gagged, that considerableforce was necessary to be exerted; and I have seen the blood flowingfrom months into which the gag had been thrust with violence. 

Indeed I ought to know something on this department of nunnerydiscipline: I have had it tried upon myself, and I can bear witness thatit is not only most humiliating and oppressive, but often extremelypainful. The month is kept forced open, and the straining of the jaws attheir utmost stretch, for a considerable time, is very distressing. 

One of the worst punishments which I ever saw inflicted, was that with acap; and yet some of the old nuns were permitted to inflict it at theirpleasure. I have repeatedly known them to go for a cap, when one of ournumber had transgressed a rule, sometimes though it were a veryunimportant one. These caps were kept in a cupboard in the old nuns'room, whence they were brought when wanted. 

They were small, made of a reddish looking leather, fitted closely tothe head, and fastened under the chin with a kind of buckle. It was thecommon practice to tie the nun's hands behind and gag her before the capwas put on, to prevent noise and resistance. I never saw it worn by anyfor one moment, without throwing them into severe sufferings. Ifpermitted, they would scream in a most shocking manner; and they alwayswrithed as much as their confinement would allow. I can speak frompersonal knowledge of this punishment, as I have endured it more thanonce; and yet I have no idea of the cause of the pain. I never examinedone of the caps, nor saw the inside, for they are always brought andtaken away quickly; but although the first sensation was that ofcoolness, it was hardly put on my head before a violent andindescribable sensation began, like that of a blister, only much moreinsupportable; and this continued until it was removed. It would producesuch an acute pain as to throw us into convulsions, and I think no humanbeing could endure it for an hour. After this punishment we felt itseffects through the system for many days. Having once known what it wasby experience, I held the cap in dread, and whenever I was condemned tosuffer the punishment again, felt ready to do any thing to avoid it. Butwhen tied and gagged, with the cap on my head again, I could only sinkupon the floor, and roll about in anguish until it was taken off. 

This was usually done in about ten minutes, sometimes less, but the painalways continued in my head for several days. I thought that it mighttake away a person's reason if kept on a much longer time. If I had notbeen gagged, I am sure I should have uttered awful screams. I have feltthe effects for a week. Sometimes fresh cabbage leaves were applied tomy head to remove it. Having had no opportunity to examine my head, Icannot say more. 

This punishment was occasionally resorted to for very trifling offences, such as washing the hands without permission; and it was generallyapplied on the spot, and before the other nuns in the community-room. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Priests of the District of Montreal have free access to the BlackNunnery--Crimes committed and required by them--The Pope's command tocommit indecent Crimes--Characters of the Old and New Superiors--Thetimidity of the latter--I began to be employed in the Hospitals--Someaccount of them--Warning given me by a sick Nun--Penance by Hanging. 

I have mentioned before, that the country, as far down as Three Rivers, is furnished with priests by the Seminary of Montreal; and that thesehundred and fifty men are liable to be occasionally transferred from onestation to another. Numbers of them are often to be seen in the streetsof Montreal, as they may find a home in the Seminary. 

They are considered as haying an equal right to enter the Black Nunnerywhenever they please; and then, according to our oaths, they havecomplete control over the nuns. To name all the works of shame of whichthey are guilty in that retreat, would require much time and space, neither would it be necessary to the accomplishment of my object, whichis, the publication of but some of their criminality to the world, andthe development, in general terms, of scenes thus far carried on insecret within the walls of that Convent, where I was so long an inmate. 

Secure against detection by the world, they never believed that aneyewitness would ever escape to tell of their crimes, and declare someof their names before the world; but the time has come, and some oftheir deeds of darkness must come to the day. I have seen in thenunnery, the priests from more, I presume, than a hundred countryplaces, admitted for shameful and criminal purposes: from St. Charles, St. Denis, St. Mark's St. Antoine, Chambly, Bertier, St. John's, &c. &c. 

How unexpected to them will be the disclosures I make! Shut up in aplace from which there has been thought to be but one way of egress, andthat the passage to the grave, they considered themselves safe inperpetrating crimes in our presence, and in making us share in theircriminality as often as they chose, and conducted more shamelessly thaneven the brutes. These debauchees would come in without ceremony, concealing their names, both by night and by day, where the cries andpains of the injured innocence of their victims could never reach theworld, for relief or redress for their wrongs; without remorse or shame, they would glory in torturing, in the most barbarous manner, thefeelings of those under their power; telling us, at the same time, thatthis mortifying of the flesh was religion, and pleasing to God. 

We were sometimes invited to put ourselves to voluntary sufferings in avariety of ways, not for a penance, but to show our devotion to God. Apriest would sometimes say to us--

"Now, which of you have love enough for Jesus Christ to stick a pinthrough your cheeks?"

Some of us would signify our readiness, and immediately thrust onethrough up to the head. Sometimes he would propose that we should repeatthe operation several times on the spot; and the cheeks of a number ofnuns would be bloody. 

There were other acts occasionally proposed and consented to, which Icannot name in a book. Such the Superior would sometimes command us toperform; many of them things not only useless, and unheard of, butloathsome and indecent in the highest possible degree. How they couldever have been invented I never could conceive. Things were done worsethan the entire exposure of the person, though this was occasionallyrequired of several at once, in the presence of priests. 

The Superior of the Seminary would sometimes come and inform us, that hehad received orders from the Pope, to request that those nuns whopossessed the greatest devotion and faith, should be requested toperform some particular deeds, which he named or described in ourpresence, but of which no decent or moral person could ever endure tospeak. I cannot repeat what would injure any ear, not debased to thelowest possible degree. I am bound by a regard to truth, however, toconfess, that deluded women were found among us, who would comply withthose requests. 

There was a great difference between the characters of our old and newSuperior, which soon became obvious. The former used to say she liked towalk, because it would prevent her from becoming corpulent. She was, therefore, very active, and constantly going about from one part of thenunnery to another, overseeing us at our various employments. I neversaw in her any appearance of timidity: she seemed, on the contrary, boldand masculine, and sometimes much more than that, cruel and cold-blooded, in scenes calculated to overcome any common person. Such acharacter she had exhibited at the murder of Saint Francis. 

The new Superior, on the other hand, was so heavy and lame, that shewalked with much difficulty, and consequently exercised a less vigilantoversight of the nuns. She was also of a timid disposition, or else hadbeen overcome by some great fright in her past life; for she was apt tobecome alarmed in the night, and never liked to be alone in the dark. She had long performed the part of an old nun, which is that of a spyupon the younger ones, and was well known to us in that character, underthe name of Ste. Margarite. Soon after her promotion to the station ofSuperior, she appointed me to sleep in her apartment, and assigned me asofa to lie upon. One night while, I was asleep, she suddenly threwherself upon me, and exclaimed in great alarm, "Oh! mon Dieu! mon Dieu!Qu'est que ça?" Oh, my God! my God! What is that? I jumped up and lookedabout the room, but saw nothing, and endeavoured to convince her thatthere was nothing extraordinary there. But she insisted that a ghost hadcome and held her bed-curtain, so that she could not draw it. I examinedit, and found that the curtain had been caught by a pin in the valance, which had held it back; but it was impossible to tranquillize her forsome time. She insisted on my sleeping with her the rest of the night, and I stretched myself across the foot of her bed, and slept there tillmorning. 

During the last part of my stay in the Convent, I was often employed inattending in the hospitals. There are, as I have before mentioned, several apartments devoted to the sick, and there is a physician ofMontreal, who attends as physician to the Convent. It must not besupposed, however, that he knows anything concerning the privatehospitals. It is a fact of great importance to be distinctly understood, and constantly borne in mind, that he is never, under any circumstances, admitted into the private hospital-rooms. Of those he sees nothing morethan any stranger whatever. He is limited to the care of those patientswho are admitted from the city into the public hospital, and one of thenuns' hospitals, and these he visits every day. Sick poor are receivedfor charity by the institution, attended by some of the nuns, and oftengo away with the highest ideas of their charitable characters and holylives. The physician himself might perhaps in some cases share in thedelusion. 

I frequently followed Dr. Nelson through the public hospital, at thedirection of the Superior, with pen, ink, and paper in my hands, andwrote down the prescriptions which he ordered for the differentpatients. These were afterwards prepared and administered by theattendants. About a year before I left the Convent, I was firstappointed to attend the private sick-rooms, and was frequently employedin that duty up to the day of my departure. Of course, I hadopportunities to observe the number and classes of patients treatedthere; and in what I am to say on the subject, I appeal with perfectconfidence to any true and competent witness to confirm, my words, whenever such a witness may appear. 

It would be vain for any body who has merely visited the Convent fromcuriosity, or resided in it as a novice, to question my declarations. Such a person must necessarily be ignorant of even the existence of theprivate rooms, unless informed by some one else. Such rooms however, there are, and I could relate many things which have passed there duringthe hours I was employed in them, as I have stated. 

One night I was called to sit up with an old nun, named Saint Clare, who, in going down-stairs, had dislocated a limb, and lay in a sick-roomadjoining an hospital. She seemed to be a little out of her head a partof the time, but appeared to be quite in possession of her reason mostof the night. It was easy to pretend that she was delirious; but Iconsidered her as speaking the truth, though I felt reluctant to repeatwhat I heard her say, and excused myself from mentioning it even atconfession, on the ground that the Superior thought her deranged. 

What led her to some of the most remarkable parts of her conversation, was a motion I made, in the course of the night, to take the light outof her little room into the adjoining apartment, to look once more atthe sick persons there. She begged me not to leave her a moment in thedark, for she could not bear it. "I have witnessed so many horridscenes, " said she, "in this Convent, that I want somebody near meconstantly, and must always have a light burning in my room. I cannottell you, " she added, "what things I remember, for they would frightenyou too much. What you have seen are nothing to them. Many a murder haveI witnessed; many a nice young creature has been killed in this nunnery. I advise you to be very cautions--keep everything to yourself--there aremany here ready to betray you. "

What it was that induced the old nun to express so much kindness to me Icould not tell, unless she was frightened at the recollection of her owncrimes, and those of others, and felt grateful for the care I took ofher. She had been one of the night-watches, and never before showed meany particular kindness. She did not indeed go into detail concerningthe transactions to which she alluded, but told me that some nuns hadbeen murdered under great aggravations of cruelty, by being gagged, andleft to starve in the cells, or having their flesh burnt off their boneswith red-hot irons. 

It was uncommon to find compunction expressed by any of the nuns. Habitrenders us insensible to the sufferings of others, and careless aboutour own sins. I had become so hardened myself, that I find it difficultto rid myself of many of my former false principles and views of rightand wrong. 

I was one day set to wash some of the empty bottles from the cellar, which had contained the liquid that was poured into the cemetery there. A number of these had been brought from the corner where so many of themwere always to be seen, and placed at the head of the cellar stairs, andthere we were required to take them and wash them out. We poured inwater and rinsed them; a few drops, which got upon our clothes, soonmade holes in them. I think the liquid was called vitriol, or some suchname; and I heard some persons say, that it would soon destroy theflesh, and even the bones of the dead. At another time, we werefurnished with a little of the liquid, which was mixed with a quantityof water, and used in dying some cloth black, which was wanted atfunerals in the chapels. Our hands were turned very black by beingdipped in it, but a few drops of some other liquid were mixed with freshwater and given us to wash in, which left our skin of a bright red. 

The bottles of which I spoke were made of very thick, dark-colouredglass, large at the bottom, and, from recollection, I should say heldsomething less than a gallon. 

I was once much shocked, on entering the room for the examination ofconscience, at seeing a nun hanging by a cord from a ring in theceiling, with her head downward. Her clothes had been tied round with aleathern strap, to keep them in their place, and then she had beenfastened in that situation, with her head at some distance from thefloor. Her face had a very unpleasant appearance, being dark-colouredand swollen by the rushing in of the blood; her hands were tied and hermouth stopped with a large gag. This nun proved to be no other than JaneRay, who for some fault had been condemned to this punishment. 

This was not, however, a solitary case; I heard of numbers who were"hung, " as it was called, at different times; and I saw Saint Hypoliteand Saint Luke undergoing it. This was considered a most distressingpunishment; and it was the only one which Jane Ray could not endure, ofall she had tried. 

Some of the nuns would allude to it in her presence, but it usually madeher angry. It was probably practised in the same place while I was anovice; but I never heard or thought of such a thing in those days. Whenever we wished to enter the room for examination of conscience, wehad to ask leave; and after some delay were permitted to go, but alwaysunder a strict charge to bend the head forward, and keep the eyes fixedupon the floor. 

CHAPTER XX. 

More visits to the imprisoned Nuns--Their fears--Others temporarily putinto the Cells--Reliques--The Agnus Dei--The Priests' private Hospital, or Holy Retreat--Secret Rooms in the Eastern Wing--Reports of Murders inthe Convent--The Superior's private Records--Number of Nuns in theConvent--Desire of Escape--Urgent reason for it--Plan--Deliberation--Attempt--Success. 

I often seized an opportunity, when I safely could, to speak a cheeringor friendly word to one of the poor prisoners, in passing their cells, on my errands in the cellars. For a time I supposed them to be sisters;but I afterward discovered that this was not the case. I found that theywere always under the fear of suffering some punishment, in case theyshould be found talking with a person not commissioned to attend them. They would often ask, "Is not somebody coming?"

I could easily believe what I heard affirmed by others, that fear wasthe severest of their sufferings. Confined in the dark, in so gloomy aplace, with the long and spacious arched cellar stretching off this wayand that, visited now and then by a solitary nun, with whom they wereafraid to speak their feelings, and with only the miserable society ofeach other; how gloomy thus to spend day after day, months, and evenyears, without any prospect of liberation, and liable every moment toany other fate to which the Bishop or Superior might condemn them! Butthese poor creatures must have known something of the horrorsperpetrated in other parts of the building, and could not have beenignorant of the hole in the cellar, which was not far from their cells, and the use to which it was devoted. One of them told me, in confidence, she wished they could get out. They must also have been often disturbedin their sleep, if they ever did sleep, by the numerous priests whopassed through the trapdoor at no great distance. To be subject to suchtrials for a single day would be dreadful; but these nuns had them toendure for years. 

I often felt much compassion for them, and wished to see them released;but at other times, yielding to the doctrine perpetually taught us inthe Convent, that our future happiness would be proportioned to thesufferings we had to undergo in this world, I would rest satisfied thattheir imprisonment was a real blessing to them. Others, I presume, participated with me in such feelings. One Sunday afternoon, after wehad performed all our ceremonies, and were engaged as usual, at thattime, with backgammon and other amusements, one of the young nunsexclaimed, "Oh, how headstrong are those wretches in the cells--they areas bad as the day they were first put in!"

This exclamation was made, as I supposed, in consequence of some recentconversation with them, as I knew her to be particularly acquainted withthe older one. 

Some of the vacant cells were occasionally used for temporaryimprisonment. Three nuns were confined in them, to my knowledge, fordisobedience to the Superior, as she called it. They did not join therest in singing in the evening, being exhausted by the various exertionsof the day. The Superior ordered them to sing, and as they did notcomply, after her command had been twice repeated, she ordered them awayto the cells. 

They were immediately taken down into the cellar, placed in separatedungeons, and the doors shut and barred upon them. There they remainedthrough that night, the following day, and second night, but werereleased in time to attend mass on the second morning. 

The Superior used occasionally to show something in a glass box, whichwe were required to regard with the highest degree of reverence. It wasmade of wax, and called an Agnus Dei. She used to exhibit it to us whenwe were in a state of grace; that is, after confession and beforesacrament. She said it had been blessed _in the very dish in which ourSaviour had eaten_. It was brought from Rome. Every time we kissedit, or even looked at it, we were told it gave a hundred days releasefrom purgatory to ourselves, or if we did not need it, to our next ofkin in purgatory, if not a Protestant. If we had no such kinsman, thebenefit was to go to the souls in purgatory not prayed for. 

Jane Ray would sometimes say to me, "Let's kiss it--some of our friendswill thank us for it. "

I have been repeatedly employed in carrying dainties of different kindsto the little private room I have mentioned, next beyond the Superior'ssitting-room, in the second story, which the priests made their "_HolyRetreat_. " That room I never was allowed to enter. I could only go tothe door with a waiter of refreshments, set it down upon a little standnear it, give three raps on the door, and then retire to a distance toawait orders. When any thing was to be taken away, it was placed on thestand by the Superior, who then gave three raps for me, and closed thedoor. 

The Bishop I saw at least once when he appeared worse for wine, orsomething of the kind. After partaking of some refreshments in theConvent, he sent for all the nuns, and, on our appearance, gave us hisblessing, and put a piece of poundcake on the shoulder of each of us, ina manner which appeared singular and foolish. 

There are three rooms in the Black Nunnery which I never entered. I hadenjoyed much liberty, and had seen, as I supposed, all parts of thebuilding, when one day I observed an old nun go to a corner of anapartment near the northern end of the western wing, push the end of herscissors into a crack in the panelled wall, and pull out a door. I wasmuch surprised, because I had never conjectured that any door was there;and it appeared when I afterward examined the place, that no indicationof it could be discovered on the closest scrutiny. I stepped forward tosee what was within, and saw three rooms opening into each other; butthe nun refused to admit me within the door, which she said led to roomskept as depositories. 

She herself entered and closed the door, so that I could not satisfy mycuriosity; and no occasion presented itself. I always had a strongdesire to know the use of these apartments: for I am sure they must havebeen designed for some purpose of which I was intentionally keptignorant, otherwise they would never have remained unknown to me solong. Besides, the old nun evidently had some strong reasons for denyingme admission, though she endeavoured to quiet my curiosity. 

The Superior, after my admission into the Convent, had told me that Ihad access to every room in the building; and I had seen places whichbore witness to the cruelties and the crimes committed under hercommands or sanction; but here was a succession of rooms which had beenconcealed from me, and so constructed as if designed to be unknown toall but a few. I am sure that any person, who might be able to examinethe wall in that place, would pronounce that secret door a surprisingpiece of work. I never saw any thing of the kind which appeared to me soingenious and skilfully made. I told Jane Ray what I had seen, and shesaid, at once, "We will get in and see what is in there. " But I supposeshe never found an opportunity. 

I naturally felt a good deal of curiosity to learn whether such scenes, as I had witnessed in the death of Saint Francis, were common or rare, and took an opportunity to inquire of Jane Ray. Her reply was--

"Oh, yes; and there were many murdered while you was a novice, whom youheard nothing about. "

This was all I ever learnt on the subject; but although I was toldnothing of the manner in which they were killed, I supposed it to be thesame which I had seen practised, viz. By smothering. 

I went into the Superior's parlour one day for something, and found JaneRay there alone, looking into a book with an appearance of interest. Iasked her what it was, but she made some trifling answer, and laid itby, as if unwilling to let me take it. There are two bookcases in theroom; one on the right as you enter the door, and the other opposite, near the window and sofa. The former contains the lecture-books andother printed volumes, the latter seemed to be filled with note andaccount books. I have often seen the keys in the bookcases while I havebeen dusting the furniture, and sometimes observed letters stuck up inthe room; although I never looked into one, or thought of doing so, aswe were under strict orders not to touch any of them, and the idea ofsins and penances was always present with me. 

Some time after the occasion mentioned, I was sent into the Superior'sroom, with Jane, to arrange it; and as the same book was lying out ofthe case, she said "Come, let us look into it. " I immediately consented, and we opened it, and turned over several leaves. It was about a footand a half long, as nearly as I can remember, a foot wide, and about twoinches thick, though I cannot speak with particular precision, as Janefrightened me almost as soon as I touched it, by exclaiming, "There youhave looked into it, and if you tell of me, I will of you. "

The thought of being subjected to a severe penance, which I had reasonto apprehend, fluttered me very much; and although I tried to overcomemy fears, I did not succeed very well. I reflected, however, that thesin was already committed, and that it would not be increased if Iexamined the book. I, therefore, looked a little at several pages, though I still felt a good deal of agitation. I saw, at once, that thevolume was the record of the entrance of nuns and novices into theConvent, and of the births that had taken place in the Convent. Entriesof the last description were made in a brief manner, on the followingplan: I do not give the names or dates as real, but only to show theform of entering them. 

 Saint Mary delivered of a son, March 16, 1834. Saint Clarice "daughter, April 2, " Saint Matilda "daughter, April, 80, "

No mention was made in the book of the death of the children, though Iwell knew not one of them could be living at that time. Now I presumethat the period the book embraced, was about two years, as several namesnear the beginning I knew; but I can form only a rough conjecture of thenumber of infants born, and murdered of course, records of which itcontained. I suppose the book contained at least one hundred pages, thatone fourth were written upon, and that each page contained fifteendistinct records. Several pages were devoted to the list of births. Onthis supposition there must have been a large number, which I can easilybelieve to have been born there in the course of two years. 

What were the contents of the other books belonging to the same casewith that which I looked into, I have no idea, having never dared totouch one of them; I believe, however, that Jane Ray was well acquaintedwith them, knowing, as I do, her intelligence and prying disposition. Ifshe could be brought to give her testimony, she would doubtless unfoldmany curious particulars now unknown. 

I am able, in consequence of a circumstance which appeared accidental, to state with confidence the exact number of persons in the Convent oneday of the week in which I left it. This may be a point of someinterest, as several secret deaths had occurred since my taking theveil, and many burials had been openly made in the chapel. 

I was appointed, at the time mentioned, to lay out the covers for allthe inmates of the Convent, including the nuns in the cells. Thesecovers, as I have said before, were linen bands, to be bound around theknives, forks, spoons, and napkins, for eating. These were for all thenuns and novices, and amounted to two hundred and ten. As the number ofnovices was then about thirty, I know that there must have been at thattime about one hundred and eighty veiled nuns. 

I was occasionally troubled with a desire of escaping from the nunnery, and was much distressed whenever I felt so evil an imagination rise inmy mind. I believed that it was a sin, and did not fail to confess atevery opportunity, that I felt discontent. My confessors informed methat I was beset by an evil spirit, and urged me to pray against it. Still, however, every now and then, I would think, "Oh, if I could getout!"

At length one of the priests, to whom I had confessed this sin, informedme, for my comfort, that he had begun to pray to Saint Anthony, andhoped his intercession would, by-and-by, drive away the evil spirit. Mydesire of escape was partly excited by the fear of bringing an infant tothe murderous hands of my companions, or of taking a potion whoseviolent effects I too well knew. 

One evening, however, I found myself more filled with the desire ofescape than ever; and what exertions I made to dismiss the thought, proved entirely unavailing. During evening prayers, I became quiteoccupied with it; and when the time for meditation arrived, instead offalling into a doze as I often did, although I was a good deal fatigued, I found no difficulty in keeping awake. When this exercise was over, andthe other nuns were about to retire to the sleeping-room, my stationbeing in the private sickroom for the night, I withdrew to my post, which was the little sitting-room adjoining it. 

Here, then, I threw myself upon the sofa, and, being alone, reflected afew moments on the manner of escaping which had occurred to me. Thephysician had arrived a little before, at half-past eight; and I had nowto accompany him, as usual, from bed to bed, with pen, ink, and paper, to write down his prescriptions for the direction of the old nun, whowas to see them administered. What I wrote that evening, I cannot nowrecollect, as my mind was uncommonly agitated; but my customary way wasto note down briefly his orders in this manner:

 1 d salts, St. Matilde. 1 blister, St. Geneviere, &c. &c. 

I remember that I wrote three such orders that evening, and then, havingfinished the rounds, I returned for a few minutes to the sitting-room. 

There were two ways of access to the street from those rooms: first, themore direct, from the passage adjoining the sick-room, down stairs, through a door, into the nunnery-yard, and through a wicket-gate; thatis the way by which the physician usually enters at night, and he isprovided with a key for that purpose. 

It would have been unsafe, however, for me to pass out that way, becausea man is kept continually in the yard, near the gate, who sleeps atnight in a small hut near the door, to escape whose observation would beimpossible. My only hope, therefore, was, that I might gain my passagethrough the other way, to do which I must pass through the sick-room, then through a passage, or small room, usually occupied by an old nun;another passage and staircase leading down to the yard, and a large gateopening into the cross street. I had no liberty ever to go beyond thesick-room, and knew that several of the doors might be fastened. Still, I determined to try; although I have often since been astonished at myboldness in undertaking what would expose me to so many hazards offailure, and to severe punishment if found out. 

It seemed as if I acted under some extraordinary impulse, whichencouraged me to do what I should hardly at any other moment havethought of undertaking. I had sat but a short time upon the sofa, however, before I rose, with a desperate determination to make theexperiment. I therefore walked hastily across the sick-room, passed intothe nun's room, walked by her in a great hurry, and almost withoutgiving her time to speak or think, said--"A message!" and in an instantwas through the door and in the next passage. I think there was anothernun with her at the moment; and it is probable that my hurried manner, and prompt intimation that I was sent on a pressing mission, to theSuperior, prevented them from entertaining any suspicion of myintention. Besides, I had the written orders of the physician in myhand, which may have tended to mislead them; and it was well known tosome of the nuns, that I had twice left the Convent and returned fromchoice; so that I was probably more likely to be trusted to remain thanmany of the others. 

The passage which I had now reached had several doors, with all which Iwas acquainted; that on the opposite side opened into a community-room, where I should probably have found some of the old inns at that hour, and they would certainly have stopped me. On the left, however, was alarge door, both locked and barred; but I gave the door a sudden swing, that it might creak as little as possible, being of iron. Down thestairs I hurried, and making my way through the door into the yard, stepped across it unbarred the great gate, and was at liberty!

CHAPTER XXI. 

At liberty--Doubtful what to do--Found refuge for the night--Disappointment--My first day opt of the Convent--Solitude--Recollections, fears, and plans. 

I have but a confused idea of the manner in which I got through some ofthe doors; several of them, I am confident, were fastened, and one ortwo I fastened behind me. [Footnote: Before leaving the nunnery grounds, I ran round the end of the building, stood a moment in hesitationwhether I had not better return, then hastening back to the other side, ran to the gate, opened it, and went out. ] But I was now in the street, and what was to be done next? I had got my liberty; but where should Igo? It was dark, I was in great danger, go which way I would: and for amoment, I thought I had been unwise to leave the Convent. If I couldreturn unobserved, would it not be better? But summoning resolution, Iturned to the left, and ran some distance up the street; then reflectingthat I had better take the opposite direction, I returned under the sameConvent walls, and ran as fast down to St. Paul's street, and turning uptowards the north, exerted all my strength, and fled for my life. It wasa cold evening, but I stopped for nothing, having recollected the housewhere I had been put to board for a short time, by the priest Roque, when prepared to enter the Convent as a novice, and resolved to seek alodging there for the night. Thither I went. It seemed as if I flewrather than ran. It was by that time so dark, that I was able to seedistinctly through the low windows by the light within; and had thepleasure to find that she was alone with her children. I therefore wentboldly to the door, was received with readiness, and entered to take upmy lodging there once more. 

Here I changed my nun's dress for one less likely to excite observation;and having received a few dollars in addition to make up the difference, I retired to rest, determined to rise early and take the morningsteamboat for Quebec. I knew that my hostess was a friend of theSuperior, as I have mentioned before, and presumed that it would not belong before she would give information against me. I knew, however, thatshe could not gain admittance to the Convent very early, and felt safein remaining in the house through the night. 

But after I had retired I found it impossible to sleep, and the nightappeared very long. In the morning early, I requested that a son of thewoman might accompany me to the steamboat, but learnt to my regret thatit would not go before night. Fearing that I might fall into the handsof the priests, and be carried back to the nunnery, and not knowingwhere to go, I turned away, and determined to seek some retired spotimmediately. I walked through a part of the city, and some distance onthe Lachine road, when finding a solitary place, I seated myself in muchdistress of mind, fearful and anxious, beyond my power, of description. I could not think myself safe anywhere in the neighbourhood of Montreal;for the priests were numerous, and almost all the people were entirelydevoted to them. They would be very desirous of finding me, and, as Ibelieved, would make great exertions to get me again in their hands. 

It was a pleasant spot where I now found myself; and as the weather wasnot uncomfortable in the daytime, I had nothing to trouble me except myrecollections and fears. As for the want of food, that gave me not theslightest uneasiness, as I felt no inclination whatever to eat. Theuncertainty and doubts I continually felt, kept me in a state ofirresolution the whole day. What should I do? Where should I go? I hadnot a friend in the world to whom I could go with confidence; while myenemies were numerous, and, it seemed to me, all around me, and ready toseize me. I thought of my uncle, who lived at the distance of fivemiles; and sometimes I almost determined to set off immediately for hishouse. I had visited it often when a child, and had been received withthe utmost kindness. I remembered that I had been a great favourite ofhis; but some considerations would arise which discouraged me fromlooking for safety in that direction. The steamboat was to depart in afew hours. I could venture to pass through the city once more bytwilight; and if once arrived at Quebec, I should be at a great distancefrom the nunnery, in a large city, and among a larger proportion ofProtestant inhabitants. Among them I might find friends, or, at least, some sort of protection; and I had no doubt that I could support myselfby labor. 

Then I thought again of the place I had left; the kindness and sympathy, small though they were, which I had found in some of my late companionsin the Convent; the awful mortal sin I had committed in breaking myvows; and the terrible punishment I should receive if taken as afugitive and carried back. If I should return voluntarily, and ask to beadmitted again: what would the Superior say, how would she treat me?Should I be condemned to any very severe penance? Might I not, at least, escape death? But then there was one consideration that would now andthen occur to me, which excited the strongest determination never toreturn. I was to become a mother, and the thought of witnessing themurder of my own child was more than I could bear. 

Purgatory was doubtless my portion; and perhaps hell for ever--such apurgatory and hell as are painted in the Convent: but there was one hopefor me yet. 

I might confess all my deadly sins sometime before I died, and a Bishopcould pardon the worst of them. 

This was good Catholic doctrine, and I rested upon it with so much hope, that I was not quite driven to despair. 

In reflections like these, I spent the whole day, afraid to stray fromthe secluded spot to which I had retreated, though at different timesforming momentary plans to leave it, and go in various directions. I atenot a morsel of food, and yet felt no hunger. Had I been well provided, I could have tasted nothing in such a state of mind. The afternoonwasted away, the sun set, and darkness began to come on: I rose and setoff again for the city. I passed along the streets unmolested by anyone; and reached it a short time before the boat was ready to start. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Start for Quebec--Recognised--Disappointed again--Not permitted to land--Return to Montreal--Landed and passed through the city before day--Lachine Canal--Intended close of my life. 

Soon after we left the shore, the captain, whom I had previously seen, appeared to recognise me. 

He came up and inquired if I was not the daughter of my mother, mentioning her name. I had long been taught and accustomed to deceive;and it may be supposed that in such a case I did not hesitate to denythe truth, hoping that I might avoid being known, and fearing to bedefeated in my object. He however persisted that he knew me, and said hemust insist on my returning with him to Montreal, adding that I must notleave his boat to land at Quebec. I said but little to him, but intendedto get on shore if possible, at the end of our journey--a thing I hadno doubt I might effect. 

When we reached Quebec, however I found, to my chagrin, that the ladies'maid carefully locked the cabin-door while I was in, after the ladieshad left it, who were six or eight in number. 

I said little, and made no attempts to resist the restriction put uponme; but secretly cherished the hope of being able, by watching anopportunity, to slip on shore at tea-time, and lose myself among thestreets of the city. Although a total stranger to Quebec, I longed to beat liberty there, as I thought I could soon place myself among personswho would secure me from the Catholics, each of whom I now looked uponas an enemy. 

But I soon found that my last hopes were blighted: the maid, havingreceived, as I presumed, strict orders from the captain, kept me closelyconfined, so that escape was impossible. I was distressed, it is true, to find myself in this condition; but I had already become accustomed todisappointments, and therefore perhaps sunk less under this new one, than I might otherwise have done. When the hour for departure arrived, Iwas therefore still confined in the steamboat, and it was not until wehad left the shore that I was allowed to leave the cabin. The captainand others treated me with kindness in every respect, except that ofpermitting me to do what I most desired. I have sometimes suspected, that he had received notice of my escape from some of the priests, witha request to stop my flight, if I should go on board his boat. His wifeis a Catholic, and this is the only way in which I can account for hisconduct: still I have not sufficient knowledge of his motives andintentions to speak with entire confidence on the subject. 

My time passed heavily on board of the steamboat, particularly on mypassage up the river towards Montreal. My mind was too much agitated toallow me to sleep, for I was continually meditating on the scenes I hadwitnessed in the Convent, and anticipating with dread such as I hadreason to think I might soon be called to pass through. I bought for atrifle while on board, I hardly know why, a small medallion with a headupon it, and the name of Robertson, which I hung on my neck. As I sat byday with nothing to do, I occasionally sunk into a doze for a fewminutes, when I usually waked with a start from some frightful dream. Sometimes I thought I was running away from the priests, and closelypursued, and sometimes had no hope of escape. But the most distressingof my feelings were those I suffered in the course of the night. Westopped some time at Berthier, where a number of prisoners were taken onboard, to be carried up the river; and this caused much confusion, andadded to my painful reflections. 

My mind became much agitated, worse than it had been before; and whatbetween waking fears, and sleeping visions, I spent a most wretchednight. Sometimes I thought the priests and nuns had me shut up in adungeon; sometimes they were about to make away with me in a most cruelmanner. Once I dreamed that I was in some house, and a coach came up tothe door, into which I was to be put by force; and the man who seizedme, and was putting me in, had no head. 

When we reached Montreal on Saturday morning, it was not daylight; andthe captain, landing, set off as I understood, to give my motherinformation that I was in his boat. He was gone a long time, which ledme to conjecture that he might have found difficulty in speaking withher; but the delay proved very favourable to me, for perceiving that Iwas neither locked up nor watched, I hastened on shore, and pursued myway into the city. I felt happy at my escape: but what was I then to do?Whither could I go? Not to my mother: I was certain I could not remainlong with her, without being known to the priests. 

My friendlessness and utter helplessness, with the dread of beingmurdered in the Convent, added to thoughts of the shame which must awaitme if I lived a few months, made me take a desperate resolution, and Ihurried to put it into effect. 

My object was to reach the head of the Lachine Canal, which is near theSt. Lawrence, beyond the extremity of the southern suburbs. I walkedhastily along St. Paul's street, and found all the houses still shut;then turning to the old Recollet Church, I reached Notre-Dame street, which I followed in the direction I wished to go. 

The morning was chilly, as the season was somewhat advanced: but thatwas of no importance to me. Day had appeared, and I desired toaccomplish the object on which I was now bent, before the light shouldmuch increase. I walked on, therefore, but the morning had broken brightbefore I arrived at the Canal; and then I found to my disappointmentthat two Canadians were at work on the hank, getting water, or doingsomething else. 

I was by the great basin where the boats start, and near the large canalstorehouse. I have not said what was my design; it was to drown myself. 

Fearing the men would rescue me, I hesitated for some time, hoping theywould retire: but finding that they did not, I grew impatient. I stoodlooking on the water; it was nearly on a level with the banks, whichshelved away, as I could perceive, for some distance, there being nowind to disturb the surface. There was nothing in the sight which seemedfrightful or even forbidding to me; I looked upon it as the means of theeasiest death, and longed to be buried below. At length finding that themen were not likely to leave the place, I sprung from the bank, and wasin an instant in the cold water. The shock was very severe. I felt asharp freezing sensation run through me, which almost immediatelyrendered me insensible; and the last thing I can recollect was, that Iwas sinking in the midst of water almost as cold as ice, which wet myclothes, and covered me all over. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Awake among strangers--Dr. Robertson--Imprisoned as a vagrant--Introduction to my mother--Stay in her house--Removal from it to Mrs. McDonald's--Return to my mother's--Desire to get to New York--Arrangements for going. 

How long I remained in the canal I knew not; but in about three minutes, as I conjectured, I felt a severe blow on my right side; and opening myeyes I saw myself surrounded by men, who talked a great deal, andexpressed much anxiety and curiosity about me. They enquired of me myname, where I lived, and why I had thrown myself into the water: but Iwould not answer a word. The blow which I had felt, and which wasprobably the cause of bringing me for a few moments to my senses, Ipresume was caused by my falling, after I was rescued, upon the stones, which lay thickly scattered near the water. I remember that the personsaround me continued to press me with questions, and that I stillremained silent. Some of them having observed the little medallion on myneck, and being able to read, declared I was probably the daughter ofDr. Robertson, as it bore the name; but to this, I also gave no answer, and sunk again into a state of unconsciousness. 

When my senses once more returned, I found myself lying in a bed coveredup warm, in a house, and heard several persons talking of the mass, fromwhich they had just returned. I could not imagine where I was, for mythoughts were not easily collected, and every thing seemed strangearound me. Some of them, on account of the name on the little medallion, had sent to Dr. Robertson, to inform him that a young woman had beenprevented from drowning herself in the basin, who had a portrait on herneck, with his family name stamped upon it; and he had sent word, thatalthough she could be no relation of his, they had better bring her tohis house, as he possibly might be able to learn who she was. Preparations were therefore made to conduct me thither; and I was soonin his house. This was about midday, or a little later. 

The doctor endeavored to draw from me some confession of my family: butI refused; my feelings would not permit me to give him any satisfaction. He offered to send me to my home if I would tell him where I lived; butat length, thinking me unreasonable and obstinate, began to threaten tosend me to jail. 

In a short time I found that the latter measure was determined on, and Iwas soon put into the hands of the jailer, Captain Holland, and placedin a private room in his house. 

I had formerly been acquainted with his children, but had such strongreasons for remaining unknown, that I hoped they would not recognise me;and, as we had not met for several years I flattered myself that suchwould be the case. It was, at first, as I had hoped; they saw me in theevening, but did not appear to suspect who I was. The next morning, however, one of them asked me if I were not sister of my brother, mentioning his name; and though I denied it, they all insisted that Imust be, for the likeness, they said, was surprisingly strong. I stillwould not admit the truth; but requested they would send for the Rev. Mr. Esson, a Presbyterian clergyman in Montreal, saying I had somethingto say to him. He soon made his appearance and I gave him some accountof myself and requested him to procure my release from confinement, as Ithought there was no reason why I should be deprived of my liberty. 

Contrary to my wishes, however, he went and informed my mother. Anunhappy difference had existed between us for many years concerningwhich I would not speak, were it not necessary to allude to it to rendersome things intelligible which are important to my narrative. I amwilling to bear much of the blame: for my drawing part of her pensionhad justly irritated her. I shall not attempt to justify or explain myown feelings with respect to my mother, whom I still regard at least insome degree as I ought. I will merely say, that I thought she indulgedin partialities and antipathies in her family during my childhood; andthat I attribute my entrance into the nunnery, and the misfortunes Ihave suffered, to my early estrangement from home, and my separationfrom the family. I had neither, seen her nor heard from her in severalyears; and I knew not whether she had even known of my entrance into theConvent, although I now learnt, that she still resided where sheformerly did. 

It was therefore with regret that I heard that my mother had beeninformed of my condition; and that I saw an Irishwoman, an acquaintanceof hers, come to take me to the house. I had no doubt that she wouldthink I had disgraced her, by being imprisoned, as well as by my attemptto drown myself; and what would be her feelings towards me, I could onlyconjecture. 

I accompanied the woman to my mother's, and found nearly such areception as I had expected. Notwithstanding our mutual feelings weremuch as they had been, she wished me to stay with her, and kept me inone of her rooms for several weeks, and with the utmost privacy, fearingthat my appearance would lead to questions, and that my imprisonmentwould become known. I soon satisfied myself that she knew little of whatI had passed through, within the few past years; and did not think itprudent to inform her, for that would greatly have increased the risk ofmy being discovered by the priests. We were surrounded by those who wentfrequently to confession, and would have thought me a monster ofwickedness, guilty of breaking the most solemn vows, and a fugitive froma retreat which is generally regarded there as a place of greatsanctity, and almost like a gate to heaven. I well knew the ignoranceand prejudices of the poor Canadians, and understood how such a personas myself must appear in their eyes. They felt as I formerly had, andwould think it a service to religion, and to God, to betray the place ofmy concealment if by chance they should find, or even suspect it. As Ihad become in the eyes of Catholics, "a spouse of Jesus Christ, " bytaking the veil, my leaving the Convent must appear to them a forsakingof the Saviour. 

As things were, however, I remained for some time undisturbed. Mybrother, though he lived in the house, did not know of my being therefor a fortnight. 

When he learnt it, and came to see me, he expressed much kindnesstowards me: but I had not seen him for several years, and had seen somuch evil, that I knew not what secret motives he might have, andthought it prudent to be reserved. I, therefore, communicated to himnothing of my history or intentions, and rather repulsed his advances. The truth is, I had been so long among nuns and priests, that I thoughtthere was no sincerity or virtue on earth. 

What were my mother's wishes or intentions towards me, I was notinformed: but I found afterwards, that she must have made arrangementsto have me removed from her house, for one day a woman came to the doorwith a cariole, and on being admitted to see me, expressed herself in afriendly manner, spoke of the necessity of air and exercise for myhealth, and invited me to take a ride. I consented, supposing we shouldsoon return: but when we reached St. Antoine suburbs, she drove up to ahouse which I had formerly heard to be some kind of refuge, stopped, andrequested me to alight. My first thought was, that I should be exposedto certain detection, by some of the priests whom I presumed officiatedthere; as they had all known me in the nunnery. I could not avoidentering; but I resolved to feign sickness, hoping thus to be placed outof sight of the priests. 

The result was according to my wishes: for I was taken to an upper room, which was used as an infirmary, and there permitted to remain. Therewere a large number of women in the house; and a Mrs. M'Donald, who hasthe management of it, had her daughters in the Ursuline Nunnery atQuebec, and her son in the college. The nature of the establishment Icould not fully understand: but it seemed to me designed to become anunnery at some future time. 

I felt pretty safe in the house; so long as I was certain of remainingin the infirmary; for there was nobody there who had ever seen mebefore. But I resolved to avoid, if possible, ever making my appearancebelow, for I felt that I could not do it without hazard of discovery. 

Among other appendages of a Convent which I observed in that place, wasa confessional within the building, and I soon learnt, to my dismay, that Father Bonin, one of the murderers of Saint Francis, was in thehabit of constant attendance as priest and confessor. The recollectionswhich I often indulged in of scenes in the Hotel Dieu, gave meuneasiness and distress: but not knowing where to go to seek greaterseclusion, I remained in the infirmary week after week, still affectingillness in the best manner I could. At length I found that I wassuspected of playing off a deception with regard to the state of myhealth; and at the close of a few weeks, I became satisfied that I couldnot remain longer without making my appearance below stairs. I at lengthcomplied with the wishes I heard expressed, that I would go into thecommunity-room, where those in health were accustomed to assemble towork, and then some of the women began to talk of my going toconfession. I merely expressed unwillingness at first; but when theypressed the point, and began to insist, my fear of detection overcameevery other feeling, and I plainly declared that I would not go. Thisled to an altercation, when the mistress of the house pronounced meincorrigible, and said she would not keep me for a hundred pounds ayear. She, in fact, became so weary of having me there, that she sent tomy mother to take me away. 

My mother, in consequence, sent a cariole for me, and took me again intoher house; but I became so unhappy in a place where I was secluded anddestitute of all agreeable society, that I earnestly requested her toallow me to leave Canada. I believe she felt ready to have me removed toa distance, that she might not be in danger of having my attempt atself-destruction, and my confinement in prison made public. 

There was a fact which I had not disclosed, and of which all wereignorant: viz. , that which had so much influence in exciting me to leavethe Convent, and to reject every idea of returning to it. 

When conversing with my mother about leaving Canada, I proposed to go toNew York. She inquired why I wished to go there. I made no answer tothat question: for, though I had never been there, and knew scarcelyanything about the place, I presumed that I should find protection frommy enemies, as I knew it was in a Protestant country. I had not thoughtof going to the United States before, because I had no one to go withme, nor money enough to pay my expenses; but then a plan presenteditself to my mind, by which I thought I might proceed to New York insafety. 

There was a man who I presumed would wish to have me leave Canada, onhis own account; and that was the man I had so precipitately marriedwhile residing at St. Denis. He must have had motives, as I thought, forwishing me at a distance. I proposed therefore that he should beinformed that I was in Montreal, and anxious to go to the States; andsuch a message was sent to him by a woman whom my mother knew. [Footnote: Mrs. Tarbert, or M'Gan. See her affidavit. What house sherefers to I cannot conjecture. ] She had a little stand for the sale ofsome articles, and had a husband who carried on some similar kind ofbusiness at the Scotch mountain. Through her husband, as I suppose, shehad my message conveyed, and soon informed me that arrangements weremade for my commencing my journey, under the care of the person to whomit had been sent. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Singular concurrence of circumstances, which enabled me to get to theUnited States--Intentions in going there--Commence my journey--Fears ofmy companion--Stop at Whitehall--Injury received in a canal boat--Arrival at New York--A solitary retreat. 

It is remarkable that I was able to stay so long in the midst ofCatholics without discovery, and at last obtain the aid of some of themin effecting my flight. There is probably not a person in Montreal, whowould sooner have betrayed me into the power of priests than that woman, if she had known my history. 

She was a frequent visitor at the Convent and the Seminary, and had aticket which entitled her every Monday to the gift of a loaf of breadfrom the former. She had an unbounded respect for the Superior and thepriests, and seized every opportunity to please them. Now the fact thatshe was willing to take measures to facilitate my departure fromMontreal, afforded sufficient evidence to me of her entire ignorance ofmyself, in all respects in which I could wish her to be ignorant; and Iconfided in her, because I perceived that she felt no stronger motive, than a disposition to oblige my mother. 

Should any thing occur to let her into the secret of my being a fugitivefrom the Black Nunnery, I knew that I could not trust to her kindnessfor an instant. The discovery of that fact would transform her into abitter and deadly enemy. She would at once regard me as guilty of mortalsin, an apostate, and a proper object of persecution. And this was areflection I had often reason to make, when thinking of the numerousCatholics around me. How important, then, the keeping of my secret, andmy escape before the truth should become known, even to a single personnear me. 

I could realize, from the dangers through which I was brought by thehand of God, how difficult it must be, in most cases, for a fugitivefrom a nunnery to obtain her final freedom from the power of herenemies. Even if escaped from a Convent, so long as she remains amongCatholics, she is in constant exposure to be informed against;especially if the news of her escape is made public, which fortunatelywas not the fact in my case. 

If a Catholic comes to the knowledge of any fact calculated to exposesuch a person, he will think it his duty to disclose it at confession;and then the whole fraternity will be in motion to seize her. 

How happy for me that not a suspicion was entertained concerning me, andthat not a whisper against me was breathed into the ear of a singlepriest at confession!

Notwithstanding my frequent appearance in the street, my removals fromplace to place, and the various exposures I had to discovery, contraryto my fears, which haunted me even in my dreams, I was preserved; and asI have often thought, for the purpose of making the disclosures which Ihave made in this volume. No power but that of God, as I have frequentlythought, could ever have led me in safety through so many dangers. 

I would not have my readers imagine, however, that I had at that periodany thought of making known my history to the world. I wished to plungeinto the deepest possible obscurity; and next to the fear of fallingagain into the hands of the priests and Superior, I shrunk most from theidea of having others acquainted with the scenes I had passed through. Such a thought as publishing never entered my mind till months afterthat time. My desire was, that I might meet a speedy death in obscurity, and that my name and my shame might perish on earth together. As for myfuture doom, I still looked forward to it with gloomy apprehensions: forI considered myself as almost, if not quite, removed beyond the reach ofmercy. During all the time which had elapsed since I left the Convent, Ihad received no religious instruction, nor even read a word in thescriptures; and, therefore, it is not wonderful that I should still haveremained under the delusions in which I had been educated. 

The plan arranged for the commencement of my journey was this: I was tocross the St. Lawrence to Longueil, to meet the man who was to accompanyme. The woman who had sent my message into the country, went with me tothe ferry, and crossed the river, where, according to the appointment, we found my companion. He willingly undertook to accompany me to theplace of my destination, and at his own expense; but declared, that hewas apprehensive we should be pursued. To avoid the priests, who hesupposed would follow us, he took an indirect route, and during abouttwelve days, or nearly that, which we spent on the way, passed over amuch greater distance than was necessary. It would be needless, if itwere possible, to mention all the places we visited. We crossedCarpenter's ferry, and were at Scotch-mountain and St. Alban's; arrivedat Champlain by land, and there took the steamboat, leaving it again atBurlington. 

As we were riding towards Charlotte, my companion entertained fears, which, to me, appeared ridiculous; but it was impossible for me toreason him out of them, or to hasten our journey. Circumstances whichappeared to me of no moment whatever, would influence, and sometimeswould make him change his whole plan and direction. As we were one dayapproaching Charlotte, for instance, on inquiring of a person on theway, whether there were any Canadians there, and being informed therewere not a few, and that there was a Roman Catholic priest residingthere, he immediately determined to avoid the place, and turned back, although we were then only nine miles distant from it. 

During several of the first nights after leaving Montreal, he sufferedgreatly from fear; and on meeting me in the morning, repeatedly said:"Well, thank God, we are safe so far!" When we arrived at Whitehall, hehad an idea we should run a risk of meeting priests, who he thought, were in search of us, if we went immediately on; and insisted that wehad better stay there a little time, until they should have passed. Inspite of my anxiety to proceed, we accordingly remained there about aweek; when we entered a canal-boat to proceed to Troy. 

An unfortunate accident happened to me while on our way. I was in thecabin, when a gun, which had been placed near me, was started from itsplace by the motion of the boat, caused by another boat running againstit, and striking me on my left side, threw me some distance. The shockwas violent, and I thought myself injured, but hoped the effects wouldsoon pass off. I was afterwards taken with vomiting blood; and thisalarming symptom several times returned; but I was able to keep up. 

We came without any unnecessary delay from Troy to New York, where wearrived in the morning, either on Thursday or Friday, as I believe: butmy companion there disappeared without informing me where he was going, and I saw him no more. Being now, as I presumed, beyond the reach of myenemies, I felt relief from the fear of being carried back to thenunnery, and sentenced to death or the cells: but I was in a large citywhere I had not a friend. Feeling overwhelmed with my miserablecondition, I longed for death; and yet I felt no desire to make anotherattempt to destroy myself. 

On the contrary, I determined to seek some solitary retreat, and awaitGod's time to remove me from a world in which I had found so muchtrouble, hoping and believing that it would not be long. 

Not knowing which way to go to find solitude, I spoke to a little boy, whom I saw on the wharf, and told, him I would give him some money if hewould lead me into the "_bush_". (This is the common word by which, in Canada, we speak of the woods or forests. ) When he understood what Imeant, he told me that there was no _bush_ about New York; butconsented to lead me to the most lonely place he knew of. He accordinglyset off, and I followed him, on a long walk to the upper part of thecity, and beyond, until we reached the outskirts of it. Turning off fromthe road, we gained a little hollow, where were a few trees and bushes, a considerable distance from any house; and there, he told me, was theloneliest place with which he was acquainted. I paid him for his troubleout of the small stock of money I had in my possession, and let him gohome, desiring him to come the next day, and bring me something to eat, with a few pennies which I gave him. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Reflections and sorrow in solitude--Night--Fears--Exposure to rain--Discovered by strangers--Their unwelcome kindness--Taken to the BellevueAlmshouse. 

There I found myself once more alone, and truly it was a great relief tosit down and feel that I was out of the reach of priests and nuns, andin a spot where I could patiently wait for death, when God might pleaseto send it, instead of being abused and tormented according to thecaprices and passions of my persecutors. 

But then again returned most bitter anticipations of the future. Lifehad no attractions for me, for it must be connected with shame; butdeath under any circumstances, could not be divested of horrors, so longas I believed in the doctrines relating to it which had been inculcatedupon me. 

The place where I had taken up, as I supposed, my last earthly abode, was pleasant in clear and mild weather; and I spent most of my time inas much peace as the state of my mind would permit. I saw houses, but nohuman beings, except on the side of a little hill near by, where weresome men at work, making sounds like those made in hammering stone. Theshade around me was so thick that I felt assured of being sufficientlyprotected from observation if I kept still; and a cluster of bushesoffered me shelter for the night. As evening approached, I was somewhatalarmed by the sound of voices near me, and I found that a number oflabourers were passing that way from their work. I went in a fright tothe thickest of the bushes, and lay down, until all again was still, andthen ventured out to take my seat again on the turf. 

Darkness now came gradually on; and with it fears of anotherdescription. The thought struck me that there might be wild beasts inthat neighborhood, ignorant as I then was of the country; and the more Ithought of it, the more I became alarmed. I heard no alarming sound, itis true; but I knew not how soon some prowling and ferocious beast mightcome upon me in my defenceless condition, and tear me in pieces. Iretired to my bushes, and stretched myself under them upon the ground:but I found it impossible to sleep; and my mind was almost continuallyagitated by thoughts on the future or the past. 

In the morning the little boy made his appearance again, and brought mea few cakes which he had purchased for me. He showed much interest inme, inquired why I did not live in a house; and it was with difficultythat I could satisfy him to let me remain in my solitary and exposedcondition. Understanding that I wished to continue unknown, he assuredme that he had not told even his mother about me; and I had reason tobelieve that he faithfully kept my secret to the last. Though he lived aconsiderable distance from my hiding-place, and, as I supposed, far downin the city, he visited me almost every day, even when I had not desiredhim to bring me any thing. Several times I received from him some smallsupplies of food for the money I had given him. I once gave him a half-dollar to get changed; and he brought me back every penny of it, at hisnext visit. 

As I had got my drink from a brook or pool, which was at no greatdistance, he brought me a little cup one day to drink out of; but this Iwas not allowed to keep long, for he soon after told me that his motherwanted it, and he must return it. He several times arrived quite out ofbreath, and when I inquired the reason, calling him as I usually did, "Little Tommy" he said it was necessary for him to run, and to stay buta short time, that he might be at school in good season. Thus hecontinued to serve me, and keep my secret, at great inconvenience tohimself, up to the last day of my stay in that retreat; and I believe hewould have done so for three months if I had remained there. I shouldlike to see him again and hear his broken English. 

I had now abundance of time to reflect on my lost condition; and many abitter thought passed through my mind, as I sat on the ground, orstrolled about by day, and lay under the bushes at night. 

Sometimes I reflected on the doctrines I had heard at the nunnery, concerning sins and penances, Purgatory and Hell; and sometimes on mylate companions, and the crimes I had witnessed in the Convent. 

Sometimes I would sit and seriously consider how I might best destroy mylife; and sometimes would sing a few of the hymns with which I wasfamiliar; but I never felt willing or disposed to pray, as I supposedthere was no hope of mercy for me. 

One of the first nights I spent in that houseless condition was stormy;and though I crept under the thickest of the bushes, and had moreprotection against the rain than one might have expected, I was almostentirely wet before morning; and, it may be supposed, passed a moreuncomfortable night than usual. The next day I was happy to find theweather clear, and was able to dry my garments by taking off one at atime, and spreading them on the bushes. A night or two after, however, Iwas again exposed to a heavy rain, and had the same process afterward togo through with: but what is remarkable, I took no cold on eitheroccasion; nor did I suffer any lasting injury from all the exposures Iunderwent in that place. The inconveniences I had to encounter, also, appeared to me of little importance, not being sufficient to draw off mymind from its own troubles; and I had no intention of seeking a morecomfortable abode, still looking forward only to dying as soon as Godwould permit, alone and in that spot. 

One day, however, when I had been there about ten days, I was alarmed atseeing four men approaching me. All of them had guns, as if out on ashooting excursion. They expressed much surprise and pity on finding methere, and pressed me with questions. I would not give them anysatisfactory account of myself, my wants, or intentions, being onlyanxious that they might withdraw. I found them, however, too muchinterested to render me some service to be easily sent away; and aftersome time, thinking there would be no other way, I pretended to go awaynot to return. After going some distance, and remaining some time, thinking they had probably left the place, I returned; but to mymortification found they had concealed themselves to see whether I wouldcome back. They now, more urgently than before, insisted on my removingto some other place, where I might he comfortable. They continued toquestion me; but I became distressed in a degree I cannot describe, hardly knowing what I did. At last I called the oldest gentleman aside, and told him something of my history. He expressed great interest forme, offered to take me anywhere I would tell him, and at last insistedthat I should go with him to his own house. All these offers I refused;on which one proposed to take me to the Almshouse, and even to carry meby force if I would not go willingly. 

To this I at length consented; but some delay took place, and I becameunwilling, so that with reluctance I was taken to that institution, which was about half a mile distant. [Footnote: See the affidavit of Mr. Hilliker, in Appendix. The letter to which he refers I had forgotten tomention. It contains a short account of the crimes I had witnessed inthe nunnery, and was written on paper which "little Tommy" had boughtfor me. ]

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Reception at the Almshouse--Message from Mr. Conroy, a Roman priest inNew York--His invitations to a private interview--His claims, propositions, and threats--Mr. Kelly's message--Effects of reading theBible. 

I was now at once made comfortable, and attended with kindness and care. It is not to be expected in such a place, where so many poor andsuffering people are collected and duties of a difficult nature are tobe daily performed by those engaged in the care of the institution, thatpetty vexations should not occur to individuals of all descriptions. 

But in spite of all, I received kindness and sympathy from severalpersons around me, to whom I feel thankful. 

I was standing one day at the window of the room number twenty-six, which is at the end of the hospital building, when I saw a spot I oncevisited in a little walk I took from my hiding-place. My feelings weredifferent now in some respects, from what they had been; for, though Isuffered much from my fears of future punishment, for the sin ofbreaking my Convent vows, I had given up the intention of destroying mylife. 

After I had been some time in the Institution, I found it was reportedby some about me, that I was a fugitive nun; and it was not long after, that an Irish woman, belonging to the Institution, brought me a secretmessage, which caused me some agitation. 

I was sitting in the room of Mrs. Johnson, the matron, engaged insewing, when that Irish woman, employed in the Institution, came in andtold me that Mr. Conroy was below, and had sent to see me. I wasinformed that he was a Roman priest, who often visited the house, and hehad a particular wish to see me at that time; having come, as I believe, expressly for that purpose, I showed unwillingness to comply with suchan invitation, and did not go. The woman told me further, that he sentme word that I need not think to avoid him, for it would be impossiblefor me to do so. I might conceal myself as well as I could, but I shouldbe found and taken. No matter where I went, or what hiding-place I mightchoose, I should be known; and I had better come at once. He knew who Iwas; and he was authorized to take me to the Sisters of Charity, if Ishould prefer to join them. He would promise that I might stay with themif I chose, and be permitted to remain in New York. He sent me wordfarther, that he had received full power and authority over me from theSuperior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery of Montreal, and was able to do allthat she could do; as her right to dispose of me at her will had beenimparted to him by a regular writing received from Canada. This wasalarming information for me, in the weakness in which I was at thattime. The woman added, that the same authority had been given to all thepriests; so that, go where I might, I should meet men informed about meand my escape, and fully empowered to seize me wherever they could, andconvey me back to the Convent, from which I had escaped. 

Under these circumstances, it seemed to me that the offer to place meamong the Sisters of Charity, with permission to remain in New York, wasmild and favourable. However, I had resolution enough to refuse to seethe priest Conroy. 

Not long afterward, I was informed by the same messenger, that thepriest was again in the building, and repeated his request. I desiredone of the gentlemen connected with the Institution, that a stop mightbe put to such messages, as I wished to receive no more of them. A shorttime after, however, the woman told me that Mr. Conroy wished to inquireof me whether my name was not St. Eustace while a nun, and if I had notconfessed to Priest Kelly in Montreal. I answered, that it was all true;for I had confessed to him a short time while in the nunnery. I was thentold again that the priest wanted to see me, and I sent back word that Iwould see him in the presence of Mr. Tappan, or Mr. Stevens; which, however, was not agreed to; and I was afterwards informed, that Mr. Conroy, the Roman priest, spent an hour in a room and a passage where Ihad frequently been; but through the mercy of God; I was employed inanother place at that time, and had no occasion to go where I shouldhave met him. I afterwards repeatedly heard, that Mr. Conroy continuedto visit the house, and to ask for me; but I never saw him. I once haddetermined to leave the Institution, and go to the Sisters of Charity;but circumstances occurred which gave me time for further reflection;and I _was saved from the destruction to which I should have beenexposed_. 

As the period of my accouchment approached, I sometimes thought that Ishould not survive it; and then the recollection of the dreadful crimesI had witnessed in the nunnery would come upon me very powerfully, and Iwould think it a solemn duty to disclose them before I died. To have aknowledge of those things, and leave the world without making themknown, appeared to me like a great sin: whenever I could divest myselfof the impression made upon me, by the declarations and arguments of theSuperior, nuns, and priests, of the duty of submitting to every thing, and the necessary holiness of whatever the latter did or required. 

The evening but one before the period which I anticipated with so muchanxiety, I was sitting alone, and began to indulge in reflections ofthis kind. It seemed to me that I must be near the close of my life, andI determined to make a disclosure at once. I spoke to Mrs. Ford, a womanwhose character I respected, a nurse in the hospital, in number twenty-three. I informed her that I had no expectation of living long, and hadsome things on my mind which I wished to communicate before it should betoo late. I added, that I should prefer to tell them to Mr. Tappan, thechaplain, of which she approved, as she considered it a duty to do sounder those circumstances. I had no opportunity, however, to conversewith Mr. T. At that time, and probably my purpose, of disclosing thefacts already given in this book, would never have been executed but forwhat subsequently took place. It was alarm which had led me to formsuch a determination; and when the period of trial had been safelypassed, and I had a prospect of recovery, anything appeared to me morelikely than that I should make this exposure. 

I was then a Roman Catholic, at least a great part of my time; and myconduct, in a great measure, was according to the faith and motives of aRoman Catholic. Notwithstanding what I knew of the conduct of so many ofthe priests and nuns, I thought that it had no effect on the sanctity ofthe Church, or the authority or effects of the acts performed by theformer at the mass, confession, &c. I had such a regard for my vows as anun, that I considered my hand as well as my heart irrevocably given toJesus Christ, and could never have allowed any person to take it. Indeed, to this day, I feel an instinctive aversion to offering my hand, or taking the hand of another person, even as an expression offriendship. I also thought that I might soon return to the Catholics, although fear and disgust held me back. I had now that infant to thinkfor, whose life I had happily saved by my timely escape from thenunnery; and what its fate might be, in case it should ever fall intothe power of the priests I could not tell. 

I had, however, reason for alarm. Would a child destined to destruction, like the infants I had seen baptized and smothered, be allowed to gothrough the world unmolested, a living memorial of the truth of crimeslong practised in security, because never exposed? What pledges could Iget to satisfy me, that I, on whom her dependence must be, would bespared by those who I had reason to think were then wishing to sacrificeme? How could I trust the helpless infant in hands which had hastenedthe baptism of many such, in order to hurry them to the secret pit inthe cellar? Could I suppose that _Father Phelan, Priest of the ParishChurch of Montreal_, would see _his own child_ growing up in theworld, and feel willing to run the rink of having the truth exposed?What could I expect, especially from him, but the utmost rancor, and themost determined enmity against the innocent child and its abased anddefenceless mother?

Yet, my mind would sometimes still incline in the opposite direction, and indulge the thought, that perhaps the only way to secure heaven toas both, was to throw ourselves back into the hands of the Church, to betreated as she pleased. When, therefore, the fear of immediate death wasremoved, I renounced all thoughts of communicating the substance of thefacts in this volume. It happened, however, that my danger was notpassed. I was soon seized with very alarming symptoms; then my desire todisclose my story revived. 

I had before had an opportunity to speak in private with the chaplain;but, as it was at a time when I supposed myself out of danger, I haddeferred for three days my proposed communication, thinking that I mightyet avoid it altogether. When my symptoms, however, became morealarming, I was anxious for Saturday to arrive, the day which I hadappointed; and when I had not the opportunity on that day, which Idesired, I thought it might be too late. I did not see him till Monday, when my prospects of surviving were very gloomy; and I then informed himthat I wished to communicate to him a few secrets, which were likelyotherwise to die with me. I then told him, that while a nun, in theconvent of Montreal, I had witnessed the murder of a nun, called SaintFrancis, and of at least one of the infants which I have spoken of inthis book. I added some few circumstances, and I believe disclosed, ingeneral terms, some of the other crimes I knew of in that nunnery. 

My anticipations of death proved to be unfounded; for my healthafterward improved, and had I not made the confessions on that occasion, it is very possible I never might have made them. I, however, afterward, felt more willing to listen to instruction, and experienced friendlyattentions from some of the benevolent persons around me, who, taking aninterest in me on account of my darkened understanding, furnished mewith the Bible, and were ever ready to counsel me when I desired it. 

I soon began to believe that God might have intended that his creaturesshould learn his will by reading his word, and taking upon them the freeexercise of their reason, and acting under responsibility to him. 

It is difficult for one who has never given way to such arguments andinfluences as those to which I had been exposed, to realize how hard itis to think aright after thinking wrong. The Scriptures always affect mepowerfully when I read them; but I feel that I have but just begun tolearn the great truths, in which I ought to have been early andthoroughly instructed. I realize, in some degree, how it is, that theScriptures render the people of the United States so strongly opposed tosuch doctrines as are taught in the Black and the CongregationalNunneries of Montreal. The priests and nuns used often to declare, thatof all heretics, the children from the United States were the mostdifficult to be converted; and it was thought a great triumph when oneof them was brought over to "the true faith. " The first passage ofScripture that made any serious impression upon my mind, was the text onwhich the chaplain preached on the Sabbath after my introduction intothe house--"Search the Scriptures. "

I made some hasty notes of the thoughts to which it gave rise in mymind, and often recurred to the subject. Yet I sometimes questioned thejustice of the views I began to entertain, and was ready to condemnmyself for giving my mind any liberty to seek for information concerningthe foundations of my former faith. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Proposition to go to Montreal and testify against the priests--Commencement of my journey--Stop at Troy, Whitehall, Burlington, St. Alban's, Plattsburgh, and St. John's--Arrival at Montreal--Reflectionson passing the Nunnery, &c. 

About a fortnight after I had made the disclosures mentioned in the lastchapter, Mr. Hoyt called at the Hospital to make inquiries about me. Iwas introduced to him by Mr. Tappan. After some conversation, he askedme if I would consent to visit Montreal, and give my evidence againstthe priests and nuns before a court. I immediately expressed mywillingness to do so, on condition that I should be protected. Itimmediately occurred to me, that I might enter the nunnery at night, andbring out the nuns in the cells, and possibly Jane Ray, and that theywould confirm my testimony. In a short time, arrangements were made forour journey, I was furnished with clothes; and although my strength wasbut partially restored, I set off in pretty good spirits. 

Our journey was delayed for a little while, by Mr. Hoyt's waiting to geta companion. He had engaged a clergyman to accompany us, as Iunderstood, who was prevented from going by unexpected business. We wentto Troy in a steamboat; and, while there, I had several interviews withsome gentlemen who were informed of my history, and wished to see me. They appeared to be deeply impressed with the importance of mytestimony; and on their recommendation it was determined that we shouldgo to St. Alban's, on our way to Montreal, to get a gentleman toaccompany us, whose advice and assistance, as an experienced lawyer, were thought to be desirable to us in prosecuting the plan we had inview: viz. The exposure of the crimes with which I was acquainted. 

We travelled from Troy to Whitehall in a canal packet, because the easymotion was best adapted to my state of health. We met on board the Rev. Mr. Sprague of New York, with whom Mr. Hoyt was acquainted, and whom hetried to persuade to accompany us to Montreal. From Whitehall toBurlington we proceeded in a steamboat; and there I was so muchindisposed, that is was necessary to call a physician. After a littlerest, we set off in the stage for St. Alban's; and on arriving, foundthat Judge Turner was out of town. We had to remain a day or two beforehe returned; and then he said it would be impossible for him toaccompany us. After some deliberation, it was decided that Mr. Huntshould go to Montreal with us, and that Judge Turner should follow andjoin us there as soon as his health and business would permit. [Footnote: Mr. Hunt was recommended as a highly respectable lawyer; towhose kindness, as well as that of Judge Turner, I feel myself underobligations. ]

We therefore crossed the lake by the ferry to Plattsburgh, where, aftersome delay, we embarked in a steamboat, which took us to St. John's. Mr. Hunt, who had not reached the ferry early enough to cross with us, hadproceeded on to ----, and there got on board the steamboat in thenight. We went on to Laprairie with little delay, but finding that noboat was to cross the St. Lawrence at that place during the day, we hadto take another private carriage to Longeuil, whence we rowed across toMontreal by three men, in a small boat. 

I had felt quite bold and resolute when I first consented to go toMontreal, and also during my journey: but when I stepped on shore in thecity, I thought of the different scenes I had witnessed there, and ofthe risks I might run before I should leave it. We got into a caleche, and rode along towards the hotel where we were to stop. We passed up St. Paul's street; and, although it was dusk, I recognised every thing I hadknown. We came at length to the nunnery; and then many recollectionscrowded upon me. First, I saw a window from which I had sometimes lookedat some of the distant houses in that street; and I wondered whethersome of my old acquaintances were employed as formerly. But I thought ifI were once within those walls, I should be in the cells for theremainder of my life, or perhaps be condemned to something still moresevere. I remembered the murder of St. Francis, and the whole scenereturned to me as if it had just taken place; the appearance, language, and conduct of the persons most active in her destruction. Those personswere now all near me, and would use all exertions they safely might, toget me again into their power. 

And certainly they had greater reason to be exasperated against me, thanagainst that poor helpless nun, who had only expressed a wish to escape. [Footnote: My gloomy feelings however did not always prevail. I had hopeof obtaining evidence to prove my charges. I proposed to my companionsto be allowed to proceed that evening to execute the plan I had formedwhen a journey to Montreal had first been mentioned. This was to followthe physician into the nunnery, conceal myself under the red calico sofain the sitting-room, find my way into the cellar after all was still, release the nuns from their cells, and bring them out to confirm mytestimony. I was aware that there were hazards of my not succeeding, andthat I must forfeit my life if detected--but I was desperate; andfeeling as if I could not long live in Montreal, thought I might as welldie one way as another, and that I had better die in the performance ofa good deed. I thought of attempting to bring out Jane Ray--but thatseemed quite out of the question, as an old nun is commonly engaged incleaning a community-room, through which I should have to pass; and howcould I hope to get into, and out of the sleeping-room unobserved? Icould not even determine that the imprisoned nuns would follow me out--for they might be afraid to trust me. However, I determined to try, andpresuming my companions had all along understood and approved my plan, told them I was ready to go at once. I was chagrined and mortified morethan I can express, when they objected, and almost refused to permit me. I insisted and urged the importance of the step--but they representedits extreme rashness. This conduct of theirs, for a time diminished myconfidence to them, although everybody else has approved of it. ]

When I found myself safely in Goodenough's hotel, in a retired room, andbegan to think alone, the most gloomy apprehensions filled my mind. Icould not eat, I had no appetite, and I did not sleep all night. Everypainful scene that I ever passed through seemed to return to my mind;and such was my agitation, I could fix my thoughts upon nothing inparticular. I had left New York when the state of my health was far frombeing established; and my strength, as may be presumed, was now muchreduced by the fatigue of travelling. I shall be able to give but afaint idea of the feelings with which I passed that night, but mustleave it to the imagination of my readers. Now once more in theneighborhood of the Convent, and surrounded by the nuns and priests, ofwhose conduct I had made the first disclosures ever made, surrounded bythousands of persons devoted to them, and ready to proceed to anyoutrage, as I feared, whenever their interference might be desired, there was abundant reason for my uneasiness. 

I now began to realize that I had some attachment to life remaining. When I consented to visit the city, and furnish the evidence necessaryto lay open the iniquity of the Convent, I had felt, in a measure, indifferent to life; but now, when torture and death seemed at hand, Ishrunk from it. For myself, life could not be said to be of much value. How could I be happy with such things to reflect upon as I had passedthrough? and how could I enter society with gratification? But my infantI could not abandon, for who would care for it if its mother died. 

I was left alone in the morning by the gentlemen who had accompanied me, as they went to take immediate measures to open the intendedinvestigation. Being alone I thought of my own position in every pointof view, until I became more agitated than ever. I tried to think whatpersons I might safely apply to as friends; and though still undecidedwhat to do, I arose, thinking it might be unsafe to remain any longerexposed, as I imagined myself, to be known and seized by my enemies. 

I went from the hotel, [Footnote: It occurred to me, that I might havebeen seen by some person on landing, who might recognise me if Iappeared in the streets in the same dress; and I requested one of thefemale servants to lend me some of hers. I obtained a hat and shawl fromher with which I left the house. When I found myself in Notre Damestreet, the utmost indecision what to do, and the thought of myfriendless condition almost overpowered me. ] hurried along, feeling asif I were on my way to some asylum, and thinking I would first go to thehouse where I had several times previously found a temporary refuge. Idid not stop to reflect that the woman was a devoted Catholic and afriend to the Superior; but thought only of her kindness to me on formeroccasions, and hastened along Notre Dame street. But I was approachingthe Seminary; and a resolution was suddenly formed to go and ask thepardon and intercession of the Superior. Then the character of BishopLartigue seemed to present an impassable obstacle; and the disagreeableaspect and harsh voice of the man as I recalled him, struck me withhorror. I recollected him as I had known him when engaged in scenesconcealed from the eye of the world. The thought of him made me decidenot to enter the Seminary. I hurried, therefore, by the door; and thegreat church being at hand, my next thought was to enter there. Ireached the steps, walked in, dipped my finger into the holy water, crossed myself, turned to the first image I saw, which was that of SaintMagdalen, threw myself upon my knees, and began to repeat prayers withthe utmost fervour. I am certain that I never felt a greater desire tofind relief from any of the Saints; but my agitation hardly seemed tosubside during my exercise, which continued, perhaps, a quarter of anhour or more. I then rose from my knees, and placed myself under theprotection of St. Magdalen and St. Peter by these words: "_Je me metssous vôtre protection_"--(I place myself under your protection;) andadded, "_Sainte Marie, mère du bon pasteur, prie pour moi_"--(HolyMary, mother of the good shepherd, pray for me. )

I then resolved to call once more at the house where I had found aretreat after, my escape from the nunnery, and proceeded along thestreets in that direction. On my way, I had to pass a shop kept by awoman [Footnote: This was Mrs. Tarbert. ] I formerly had an acquaintancewith. She happened to see me passing, and immediately said, "Maria isthat you? Come in. "

I entered, and she soon proposed to me to let her go and tell my motherthat I had returned to the city. To this I objected. I went with her, however, to the house of one of her acquaintances near by where Iremained some time, during which she went to my mother's and came with arequest from her, that I would have an interview with her, proposing tocome up and see me, saying that she had something very particular to sayto me. What this was, I could not with any certainty conjecture. I hadmy suspicions that it might be something from the priests, designed toget me back into their power, or, at least, to suppress my testimony. 

I felt an extreme repugnance to seeing my mother, and in the distressingstate of apprehension and uncertainty in which I was, could determine onnothing, except to avoid her. I therefore soon left the house, andwalked on without any particular object. The weather was then veryunpleasant, and it was raining incessantly. To this I was veryindifferent, and walked on till I had got to the suburbs, and foundmyself beyond the windmills. Then I returned, and passed back throughthe city, still not recognised by anybody. 

I once saw one of my brothers, unless I was much mistaken, and thoughthe knew me. If it was he, I am confident he avoided me, and that was mybelief at the time, as he went into a yard with the appearance of muchagitation. I continued to walk up and down most of the day, fearful ofstopping anywhere, lest I should be recognised by my enemies, orbetrayed into their power. I felt all the distress of a feeble, terrified woman, in need of protection, and, as I thought, without afriend in whom I could safely confide. It distressed me extremely tothink of my poor babe; and I had now been so long absent from it, asnecessarily to suffer much inconvenience. 

I recollected to have been told, in the New York Hospital, that laudanumwould relieve distress both bodily and mental, by a woman who had urgedme to make a trial of it. In my despair, I resolved to make anexperiment with it, and entering an apothecary's shop asked for some. The apothecary refused to give me any; but an old man who was there, told me to come in, and inquired where I had been, and what was thematter with me, seeing that I was quite wet through. I let him know thatI had an infant, and on his urging me to tell more, I told him where mymother lived. He went out, and soon after returned accompanied by mymother, who told me she had my child at home, and pressed me to go toher house and see it, saying she would not insist on my entering, butwould bring it out to me. 

I consented to accompany her; but on reaching the door, she began tourge me to go in, saying I should not be known to the rest of thefamily, but might stay there in perfect privacy. I was resolved not tocomply with this request, and resisted all her entreaties, though shecontinued to urge me for a long time, perhaps half an hour. At lengthshe went in, and I walked away, in a state no less desperate thanbefore. Indeed, night was now approaching, the rain continued, and I hadno prospect of food, rest, or even shelter. I went on till I reached theparade-ground, unnoticed, I believe, by anybody, except one man, whoasked where I was going, but to whom I gave no answer. I had told mymother, before she had left me, that she might find me in the parade-ground. There I stopped in a part of the open ground where there was noprobability of my being observed, and stood thinking of the manydistressing things which harassed me; suffering, indeed, from exposureto wet and cold, but indifferent to them as evils of mere triflingimportance, and expecting that death would soon ease me of my presentsufferings. I had hoped that my mother would bring my babe to me there;but as it was growing late, I gave up all expectation of seeing her. 

At length she came, accompanied by Mr. Hoyt, who, as I afterward learnt, had called on her after my leaving the hotel, and, at her request, hadintrusted my child to her care. Calling again after I had left herhouse, she had informed him that she now knew where I was, and consentedto lead him to the spot. I was hardly able to speak or to walk, inconsequence of the hardships I had undergone; but being taken to a smallinn, and put under the care of several women, I was made comfortablewith a change of clothes and a warm bed. [Footnote: I afterward learnt, that the two gentlemen who accompanied me from the States, had beenseeking me with great anxiety all day. I persisted in not going to mymother's, and that was the reason why we applied to strangers for alodging. For some time it appeared doubtful whether I should find anyrefuge for the night, as several small inns in the neighbourhood provedto be full. At length, however, lodgings were obtained for me in one, and I experienced kindness from the females of the house, who put meinto a warm bed, and by careful treatment soon rendered me morecomfortable. I thought I heard the voice of a woman, in the course ofthe evening, whom I had seen about the nunnery, and ascertained that Iwas not mistaken. I forgot to mention, that, while preparing to leavethis house the next day, Mrs. Tarbert came in and spoke with me. Shesaid, that she had just come from the government-house, and asked, "Whatare all those men at your mother's for? what is going on there?" I toldher I could not tell. She said, "Your mother wants to speak with youvery much. " I told her I would not go to her house, for I feared therewas some plan to get me into the hands of the priests. The inn in whichI was, is one near the government-house, in a block owned by theBaroness de Montenac, or the Baroness de Longeuil, her daughter. I thinkit must be a respectable house, in spite of what Mrs. Tarbert says inher affidavit. Mrs. Tarbert is the woman spoken of several times in the"Sequel, " without being named; as I did not know how to spell her nametill her affidavit came out. ]

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Received into a hospitable family--Fluctuating feelings--Visits fromseveral persons--Father Phelan's declarations against me in his church--Interviews with a Journeyman Carpenter--Arguments with him. 

In the morning I received an invitation to go to the house of arespectable Protestant, an old inhabitant of the city, who had beeninformed of my situation; and although I felt hardly able to move, Iproceeded thither in a cariole, and was received with a degree ofkindness, and treated with such care, that I must ever retain a livelygratitude towards the family. 

On Saturday I had a visit from Dr. Robertson, to whose house I had beentaken soon after my rescue from drowning. He put a few questions to me, and soon withdrew. 

On Monday, after the close of mass, a Canadian man came in, and enteredinto conversation with the master of the house in an adjoining room. Hewas, as I understood, a journeyman carpenter, and a Catholic, and havingheard that a fugitive nun was somewhere in the city, began to speak onthe subject in French. I was soon informed that Father Phelan had justaddressed his congregation with much apparent excitement about myself;and thus the carpenter had received his information. Father Phelan'swords, according to what I heard said by numerous witnesses at differenttimes, must have been much like the following:--

"There is a certain nun now in this city, who has left our faith, andjoined the Protestants. She has a child, of which she is ready to swearI am the father. She would be glad in this way to take away my gown fromme. If I knew where to find her, I would put her in prison. I mentionthis to guard you against being deceived by what she may say. The devilhas such a hold upon people now-a-days, that there is danger that somemight believe her story. "

Before he concluded his speech, as was declared, he burst into tears, and appeared to be quite overcome. When the congregation had beendismissed, a number of them came round him, and he told some of them, that I was Antichrist; I was not a human being, as he was convinced, butan evil spirit, who had got among the Catholics, and been admitted intothe nunnery, where I had learnt the rules so that I could repeat them. My appearance, he declared, was a fulfilment of prophecy, as Antichristis foretold to be coming, in order to break down, if possible, theCatholic religion. 

The journeyman carpenter had entered the house where I lodged underthese impressions, and had conversed some time on the subject, withoutany suspicion that I was near. After he had railed against me with muchviolence, as I afterwards learned, the master of the house informed himthat he knew something of the nun, and mentioned that she charged thepriests of the Seminary with crimes of an awful character; in reply towhich the carpenter expressed the greatest disbelief. 

"You can satisfy yourself, " said the master of the house, "if you willtake the trouble to step up stairs: for she lives in my family. "

"I see her!" he exclaimed--"No, I would not see the wretched creaturefor any thing. I wonder you are not afraid to have her in your house--she will bewitch you all--the evil spirit!"

After some persuasion, however, he came into the room where I wassitting, but looked at me with every appearance of dread and curiosity;and his exclamations, and subsequent conversation, in Canadian French, were very ludicrous. 

"Eh bien, " he began on first seeing me, "c'est ici la malheureuse?"[Well, is this the poor creature?] But he stood at a distance, andlooked at me with curiosity and evident fear. I asked him to sit down, and tried to make him feel at his ease, by speaking in a mild andpleasant tone. He soon became so far master of himself, as to enter intoconversation. "I understood, " said he, "that she has said very hardthings against the priests. How can that be true?" "I can easilyconvince you, " said I, "that they do what they ought not, and commitcrimes of the kind I complain of. You are married, I suppose?" Heassented. "You confessed, I presume, on the morning of your weddingday?" He acknowledged that he did. "Then did not the priest tell you atconfession, that he had had intercourse with your intended bride, butthat it was for her sanctification, and that you must never reproach herwith it?"

This question instantly excited him, but he did not hesitate a moment toanswer it. "Yes, " replied he; "and that looks black enough. " I had putthe question to him, because I knew the practice to which I alluded hadprevailed at St. Denis while I was there, and believed it to beuniversal, or at least very common in all the Catholic parishes ofCanada. I thought I had reason to presume, that every Catholic, marriedin Canada, had had such experience, and that an allusion to the conductof the priest in this particular, must compel any of them to admit thatmy declarations were far from being incredible. This was the effect onthe mind of the simple mechanic; and from that moment he made no moreserious questions concerning my truth and sincerity, during thatinterview. 

Further conversation ensued, in the course of which I expressed thewillingness which I have often declared, to go into the Convent andpoint out things which would confirm, to any doubting person, the truthof my heaviest accusations against the priests and nuns. At length hewithdrew, and afterwards entered, saying that he had been to the Conventto make inquiries concerning me. He assured me that he had been toldthat although I had once belonged to the nunnery, I was called St. Jacques, and not St. Eustace; and that now they would not own orrecognize me. Then he began to curse me, but yet sat down, as ifdisposed for further conversation. It seemed, as if he was affected bythe most contrary feelings, and in rapid succession. One of the thingshe said, was to persuade me to leave Montreal. "I advise you, " said he, "to go away to-morrow. " I replied that I was in no haste, and might staya month longer. 

Then he fell to cursing me once more: but the next moment broke outagainst the priests, calling them all the names he could think of. Hispassion became so high against them, that he soon began to rub himself, as the low Canadians, who are apt to be very passionate, sometimes do, to calm their feelings, when they are excited to a painful degree. Afterthis explosion he again became quite tranquil, and turning to me in afrank and friendly manner, said: "I will help you in your measuresagainst the priests: but tell me, first--you are going to print a book, are you not?" "No, " said I, "I have no thoughts of that. "

Then he left the house again, and soon returned, saying he had been inthe Seminary, and seen a person who had known me in the nunnery, andsaid I had been only a novice, and that he would not acknowledge me now. I sent back word by him, that I would show one spot in the nunnery thatwould prove I spoke the truth. Thus he continued to go and returnseveral times, saying something of the kind every time, until I becametired of him. He was so much enraged once or twice during some of theinterviews, that I felt somewhat alarmed; and some of the family heardhim swearing as he went down stairs: "Ah, sacre--that is too black!"

He came at last, dressed up like a gentleman, and told me he was readyto wait on me to the nunnery. I expressed my surprise that he shouldexpect me to go with him alone, and told him I had never thought ofgoing without some protector, still assuring, that with any person tosecure my return, I would cheerfully go all over the nunnery, and showsufficient evidence of the truth of what I alleged. 

My feelings continued to vary: I was sometimes fearful, and sometimes socourageous as to think seriously of going into the Recollet church duringmass, with my child in my arms, and calling upon the priest to own it. And this I am confident I should have done, but for the persuasions usedto prevent me. [Footnote: I did not make up my mind (so far as Iremember), publicly to proclaim who was the father of my child, unlessrequired to do so, until I learnt that Father Phelan had denied it. ]

CHAPTER XXIX. 

A Milkman--An Irishwoman--Difficulty in having my Affidavit taken--Legalobjection to it when taken. 

Another person who expressed a strong wish to see me, was an Irishmilkman. He had heard, what seemed to have been pretty generallyreported, that I blamed none but the Irish priests. He put the question, whether it was a fact that I accused nobody but Father Phelan. I toldhim that it was not so; and this pleased him so well, that he told me ifI would stay in Montreal, I should have milk for myself and my child aslong as I lived. It is well known that strong antipathies have longexisted between the French and Irish Catholics in the city. 

The next day the poor Irishman returned, but in a very different stateof mind. He was present at church in the morning, he said, when FatherPhelan told the congregation that the nun of whom he had spoken before, had gone to court and accused him; and that he, by the power hepossessed, had struck her powerless as she stood before the judge, sothat she sunk helpless on the floor. He expressed, by the motion of hishands, the unresisting manner in which she had sunk under the mysteriousinfluence, and declared that she would have died on the spot, but thathe had chosen to keep her alive that she might retract her falseaccusion. This, he said, she did, most humbly, before the court;acknowledging that she had been paid a hundred pounds as a bribe. 

The first words of the poor milkman, on revisiting me, therefore, werelike these: "That's to show you what power the priest has! Didn't hegive it to you in the court? It is to be hoped you will leave the citynow. " He then stated what he had heard Father Phelan say, and expressedhis entire conviction of its truth, and the extreme joy he felt ondiscovering, as he supposed he had, that his own priest was innocent, and had gained such a triumph over me. 

A talkative Irish woman also made her appearance, among those who calledat the house, and urged for permission to see me. Said she, "I haveheard dreadful things are told by a nun you have here, against thepriests; and I have to convince myself of the truth. I want to see thenun you have got in your house. " When informed that I was unwell, andnot inclined at present to see any more strangers, she still showed muchdisposition to obtain an interview. "Well, ain't it too bad, " she asked, "that there should be any reason for people to say such things againstthe priests?" At length she obtained admittance to the room where I was, entered with eagerness, and approached me. 

"Arrah, " she exclaimed, "God bless you--is this you? Now sit down, andlet me see the child. And is it Father Phelan's, God bless you? But theysay you tell about murders; and I want to know if they are all committedby the Irish priests. " "Oh no, " replied I, "by no means. " "Then Godbless you, " said she. "If you will live in Montreal, you shall neverwant. I will see that neither you nor your child ever want, for puttingpart of the blame upon the French priests. I am going to Father Phelan, and I shall tell him about it. But they say you are an evil spirit. Iwant to know whether it is so or not. " "Come here, " said I, "feel me, and satisfy yourself. Besides, did you ever hear of an evil spirithaving a child?"

I heard from those about me, that there was great difficulty in findinga magistrate willing to take my affidavit I am perfectly satisfied thatthis was owing to the influence of the priests to prevent my accusationsagainst them from been made public. One evening a lawyer, who had beenemployed for the purpose, accompanied me to a French justice with anaffidavit ready prepared in English, for his signature, and informed himthat he wished him to administer to me the oath. Without any apparentsuspicion of me, the justice said, "Have you heard of the nun who ranaway from the Convent, and has come back to the city, to bear witnessagainst the priests?" "No matter about that now, " replied the lawyerhastily; "I have no time to talk with you--you will take this person'soath now or not?" He could not read a word of the document, because itwas not in his own language, and soon placed his signature to thebottom. It proved, however, that we had gained nothing by this step, forthe lawyer afterward informed us, that the laws required the affidavitof a nun or minor to be taken before a superior magistrate. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Interview with the Attorney General of the Province--Attempt to abductme--More interviews--A mob excited against me--Protected by twosoldiers--Convinced that an investigation of my charges could not beobtained--Departure from Montreal--Closing reflections. 

Those who had advised to the course to be pursued, had agreed to lay thesubject before the highest authorities. They soon came to the convictionthat it would be in vain to look for any favour from the Governor, andresolved to lay it before the Attorney General as soon as he shouldreturn from Quebec. After waiting for some time, he returned; and I wasinformed, in a few days, that he had appointed an interview on thefollowing morning. I went at the time with a gentleman of the city, tothe house of Mr. Grant, a distinguished lawyer. In a short time aservant invited us to walk up stairs, and we went; but after I hadentered a small room at the end of the parlour, the door was shut behindme by Mr. Ogden, the Attorney General. A chair was given me, which wasplaced with the back towards a bookcase, at which a man was standing, apparently looking at the books; and besides the two persons I havementioned, there was but one more in the room, [Footnote: Unless anotherwas concealed--as I suspected. ] Mr. Grant, the master of the house. Ofthe first part of the interview I shall not particularly speak. 

The two legal gentlemen at length began a mock examination of me, inwhich they seemed to me to be actuated more by a curiosity no waycommendable, than a sincere desire to discover the truth, writing down afew of my answers. In this, however, the person behind me took no activepart. One of the questions put to me was, "What are the colours of thecarpet in the Superior's room?"

I told what they were, when they turned to him, and inquired whether Ihad told the truth. He answered only by a short grunt of assent, as ifafraid to speak, or even to utter a natural tone; and at the same time, by his hastiness, showed that he was displeased that my answer wascorrect. I was asked to describe a particular man I had seen in thenunnery, and did so. My examiner partly turned round with some remark orquestion which was answered in a similar spirit. I turned and looked atthe stranger, who was evidently skulking to avoid my seeing him, and yetlistening to every word that was said. I saw enough in his appearance tobecome pretty well satisfied that I had seen him before; and somethingin his form or attitude reminded me strongly of the person, whose namehad been mentioned. I was then requested to repeat some of the prayersused in the nunnery, and repeated part of the office of the Virgin, andsome others. 

At length, after I had been in the little room, as I should judge, nearly an hour, I was informed that the examination had beensatisfactory, and that I might go. 

I then returned home; but no further step was taken by the AttorneyGeneral, and he refused, as I understood, to return my affidavit, whichhad been left in his hands to act upon. 

Besides the persons I have mentioned, I had interviews with numbers ofothers. I learnt from some, that Father Phelan addressed hiscongregation a second time concerning me, and expressly forbade them tospeak to me if they should have an opportunity, on pain ofexcommunication. It was also said, that he prayed for the family I livedwith, that they might be converted. 

I repeated to several different persons my willingness to go into thenunnery, and point out visible evidences of the truth of my statements;and when I was told, by one man, who said he had been to the priests, that I had better leave the city, or I would be clapped into prison, Imade up my mind that I should like to be imprisoned a little while, because then, I thought I could not be refused a public examination. 

Some Canadians were present one day, when the mistress of the houserepeated, in my presence, that I was ready to go into the nunnery ifprotected, and, if I did not convince others of the truth of myassertions, that I would consent to be burned. 

"O yes, I dare say, " replied one of the men--"the devil would take heroff--she knows he would. He would take care of her--we should never beable to get her--the evil spirit!"

A woman present said--"I could light the fire to burn you, myself. "

A woman of Montreal, who has a niece in the nunnery, on hearing of whatI declared about it, said that if it was true she would help tear itdown. 

Among those who came to see me, numbers were at first as violent as anyI have mentioned, but after a little conversation, became mild and calm. I have heard persons declare, that it would be no harm to kill me, as Ihad an evil spirit. 

One woman told me, that she had seen Father Phelan in the street, talking with a man, to whom he said, that the people were coming to teardown the house in which I stayed, intending afterward to set fire to itin the cellar. This story gave me no serious alarm, for I thought Icould see through it evidence of an intention to frighten me, and makeme leave the city. [Footnote: I felt very confident, from somecircumstances, that this woman had been sent to bring such a story byFather Phelan; and such evidence of his timidity rather emboldened me. Iwas in another room when she came, and heard her talking on and abusingme; then coming out, I said, "How dare you say I do not speak thetruth?" "God bless you, " said she, "sit down and tell me all. "] I wasunder great apprehensions, however, one day, in consequence of anaccidental discovery of a plan laid to take me off by force. I hadstepped into the cellar to get an iron-holder, when I heard the voicesof persons in the street above, and recognised those of my mother andthe Irish woman her friend. There was another woman with them. 

"You go in and lay hold of her, " said one voice. 

"No, you are her mother--you go in and bring her out--we will help you. "

I was almost overcome with dread of falling into their hands, believingthat they would deliver me up to the Superior. Hastening into a room, Igot behind a bed, told the lady of the house the cause of my fear, andcalling to a little girl to bring me my child, I stood in a state ofviolent agitation. Expecting them in the house every instant, andfearing my infant might cry, and so lead them to the place of myconcealment, I put my hand upon its mouth to keep it quiet. 

It was thought desirable to get the testimony of the mistress of thehouse where I spent the night after my escape from the nunnery, as onemeans of substantiating my story. I had been there the day before myvisit to the house of Mr. Grant, accompanied by a friend, and on myfirst inquiring of her about my nunnery dress, she said she had carriedit to the Superior; speaking with haste, as if she apprehended I hadsome object very different from what I actually had. It now beingthought best to summon her as a witness before a magistrate, and notknowing her whole name, we set off again towards her house to makeinquiry. 

On our way we had to pass behind the parade. I suddenly heard an outcryfrom a little gallery in the rear of a house which fronts another way, which drew my attention. "There's the nun!" exclaimed a female, aftertwice clapping her hands smartly together, "There's the nun, there's thenun!"

I looked up, and whom should I see but the Irishwoman, who had taken soactive a part, on several occasions in my affairs, on account of herfriendship for my mother--the same who had accompanied me to Longeuil ina boat, when I set out for New York, after making arrangements for myjourney. She now behaved as if exasperated against me to the utmost;having, as I had no doubt, learnt the object of my journey to Montrealsince I had last spoken with her, and having all her Catholic prejudicesexcited. She screamed out: "There's the nun that's come to swearagainst our dear Father Phelan. Arrah, lay hold, lay hold upon her!Catch her, kill her, pull her to pieces. "

And so saying she hurried down to the street, while a number of women, children, and some men, came running out, and pursued after me. Iimmediately took to flight, for I did not know what they might do; andshe, with the rest, pursued us, until we reached two soldiers, whom wecalled upon to protect us. They showed a readiness to do so; and whenthey learnt that we were merely going to a house beyond, and intended toreturn peaceably, consented to accompany us. The crowd, which mightrather be called a mob, thought proper not to offer us any violence inthe presence of the soldiers, and after following us a little distance, began to drop off, until all had disappeared. One of the soldiers, however, soon after remarked, that he observed a man following us, whomhe had seen in the crowd, and proposed that instead of both of themgoing before us, one should walk behind, to guard against any design hemight have. This was done; and we proceeded to a house near the onewhere I had found a refuge, and after obtaining the information wesought, returned, still guarded by the soldiers. 

All our labour, in this, however, proved unavailing; for we were unableto get the woman to appear in court. 

At length it was found impossible to induce the magistrates to do anything in the case; and arrangements were made for my return to New York. While in the ferry-boat, crossing from Montreal to Laprairie, I happenedto be standing near two little girls, when I overheard, the followingconversation. 

"Why do you leave Montreal so soon?"

"I had gone to spend a week or two; but I heard that Antichrist was inthe city, and was afraid to be there. So I am going right home. I wouldnot be in Montreal while Antichrist is there. He has come to destroy theCatholic religion. " I felt quite happy when I found myself once moresafe in New York; and it has only been since my return from Montreal, and the conviction I had there formed, that it was in vain for me toattempt to get a fair investigation into the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, that Iseriously thought of publishing a book. Under some disadvantages thisvolume has been prepared, and unfortunately its publication has beendelayed to a season when it will be difficult to transmit it promptly toall parts of the country. I am sure, however, that in spite of all, nomaterial errors will be found in it uncorrected, though many, very many, facts and circumstances might have been added which would have provedinteresting. Indeed I am persuaded, from the experience I have alreadyhad, that past scenes, before forgotten, will continue to return to mymemory, the longer I dwell upon my convent life, and that many of thesewill tend to confirm, explain, or illustrate some of the statements nowbefore the public. 

But before I close this volume, I must he indulged in saying a word ofmyself. The narrative through which the reader has now passed, he mustnot close and lay aside as if it were a fiction; neither would I wishhim to forget the subject of it as one worthy only to excite surpriseand wonder for a moment. 

CONCLUSION. 

It is desired that the author of this volume may be regarded, not as avoluntary participator in the very guilty transactions which aredescribed; but receive sympathy for the trials which she has endured, and the peculiar situation in which her past experience, and escape fromthe power of the Superior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, at Montreal, andthe snares of the Roman priests in Canada, have left her. 

My feelings are frequently distressed, and agitated, by the recollectionof what I have passed through; and by night, and by day, I have littlepeace of mind, and few periods of calm and pleasant reflection. Futurityalso appears uncertain. I know not what reception this little work maymeet with; and what will be the effect of its publication here, or inCanada, among strangers, friends, or enemies. I have given the world thetruth, so far as I have gone, on subjects of which I am told they aregenerally ignorant; and I feel perfect confidence, that any facts whichmay yet be discovered, will confirm my words, whenever they can beobtained. Whoever shall explore the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, at Montreal, will find unquestionable evidence that the descriptions of the interiorof that edifice, given in this book, were furnished by one familiar withthem; for whatever alterations may be attempted, there are changes whichno mason or carpenter can make and effectually conceal; and therefore, there must be plentiful evidence in that institution of the truth of mydescription. 

There are living witnesses, also, who ought to be made to speak, withoutfear of penances, tortures, and death; and possibly their testimony, atsome future time, may be added to confirm my statements. There arewitnesses I should greatly rejoice to see at liberty; or rather there_were_. Are they living now? or will they be permitted to liveafter the Priests and Superior have seen this book? Perhaps the wretchednuns in the cells have already suffered for my sake--perhaps Jane Rayhas been silenced for ever, or will be murdered, before she has anopportunity to add her most important testimony to mine. 

But speedy death, in respect only to this world, can be no greatcalamity to those who lead the life of a nun. The mere recollection ofit always makes me miserable. It would distress the reader, should Irepeat the dreams with which I am often terrified at night; for Isometimes fancy myself pursued by my worst enemies; frequently I seem asif shut up again in the Convent; often I imagine myself present at therepetition of the worst scenes that I have hinted at or described. Sometimes I stand by the secret place of interment in the cellar;sometimes I think I can hear the shrieks of helpless females in thehands of atrocious men; and sometimes almost seem actually to look againupon the calm and placid countenance of Saint Francis, as she appearedwhen surrounded by her murderers. 

I cannot banish the scenes and characters of this book from my memory. To me it can never appear like an amusing fable, or lose its interestand importance, the story is one which is continually before me, andmust return fresh to my mind, with painful emotions, as long as I live. With time, and Christian instruction, and the sympathy and example ofthe wise and good, I hope to learn submissively to bear whatever trialsare appointed for me, and to improve under them all. 

Impressed as I continually am with the frightful reality of the painfulcommunications that I have made in this volume, I can only offer to allpersons who may doubt or disbelieve my statements, these two things:--

Permit me to go through the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, at Montreal, with someimpartial ladies and gentlemen, that they may compare my account withthe interior parts of that building, into which no persons but the RomanBishop and the priests, [Footnote: I should have added, and such personsas they introduce. ] are ever admitted; and if they do not find mydescription true, then discard me as an impostor. Bring me before acourt of justice--there I am willing to meet _Lartigue, Dufresne, Phelan, Bonin_, and _Richards_, and their wicked companions, with the Superior, and any of the nuns, before ten thousand men. 

MARIA MONK. 

_New York, 11th January, 1836. _

THE TRUTH

of the

"AWFUL DISCLOSURES BY MARIA MONK"

DEMONSTRATED. 

1. _Early means used to discredit the took. Different ofobjectors_. --It was anticipated that persons who know little ornothing of the changeless spirit and uniform practices of the Papalecclesiastics, would doubt or deny the statements which Maria Monk hasgiven of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal. The delineations, if true, are so loathsome and revolting, that they exhibit the principles of theRoman priesthood, and the corruption of the monastic system, ascombining a social curse, which must be extinguished for the welfare ofmankind. 

From the period when the intimations were first published in theProtestant Vindicator, that a Nun had escaped from one of the Conventsin Canada, and that a narrative of the secrets of that prison-house forfemales was preparing for the press; attempts have occasionally beenmade to prejudice the public judgment, by fulsome eulogies of the RomanPriests and Nuns, as paragons of immaculate perfection; and also byinfuriated denunciations and calumnies of all persons, who seriouslybelieve that every human institution which directly violates theconstitution of nature, and the express commands of God, mustnecessarily be immoral. 

The system of seclusion and celibacy adopted in Convents is altogetherunnatural, and subverts all the appointments of Jehovah in reference tothe duties and usefulness of man; while the impenetrable secrecy, whichis the cement of the gloomy superstructure, not only extirpates everyincentive to active virtue, but unavoidably opens the flood-gates ofwickedness, without restraint or remorse, because it secures entireimpunity. 

Since the publication of the "Awful Disclosures, " much solicitude hasbeen felt for the result of the exhibitions which they present us: butit is most remarkable, that the incredulity is confined almostexclusively to Protestants, or at least, to those who pretend not to bePapists. The Roman Priests are too crafty to engage directly in anycontroversy respecting the credibility of Maria Monk's narrative. Aslong as they can induce the Roman Catholics privately to deny thestatements, and to vilify Christians as the inventors of falsehoodsconcerning "the Holy Church and the Holy Priests!" so long will theylaugh at the censures of the Protestants; and as long as they caninfluence the Editors of political papers vociferously to denyevangelical truth, and to decry every attempt to discover the secrets ofthe Romish priestcraft as false and uncharitable, so long will theJesuits ridicule and despise that incredulity which is at once soblinding, deceitful, and dangerous. 

The volume entitled "Awful Disclosures by Maria Monk, " has been assailedby two classes of Objectors. Some persons affirm that they cannot, andthat they will not believe her narrative, because it is so improbable. Who is to judge of the standard of improbabilities? Assuredly not theywho are ignorant of the whole subject to which those improbabilitiesadvert. Now it is certain, that persons who are acquainted with Popery, are generally convinced, and readily agree, that Maria Monk's narrative, is very much assimilated to the abstract view which a sound judgment, enlightened by the Holy Scriptures, would form of that antichristiansystem, as predicted by the prophet Daniel, and the apostles, Peter, Paul, and John. 

2. _The question of Probability_. --But the question ofprobabilities may be tested by another fact; and that is the full, unshaken conviction, and the serious declaration of many persons whohave lived in Canada, that Maria Monk's allegations against the RomanPriests and Nuns in that province, are precisely the counterpart oftheir ordinary character, spirit, and practice. There are many personsnow residing in the city of New York, who long dwelt in Montreal andQuebec; and who are thoroughly acquainted with the situation of affairsamong the Canadian Papists--and such of them as are known, with scarcelya dissenting voice, proclaim the same facts which every traveller, whohas any discernment or curiosity, learns when he makes the northernsummer tour. It is also indubitable, that intelligent persons in Canadagenerally, especially residents in Montreal and Quebec, who have noinducement either to falsify or to conceal the truth, uniformly testify, that the nunneries in those cities are notorious places of resort forthe Roman Priests for habitual and unrestrained licentiousness; that, upon the payment of the stipulated price to the Chaplain, other persons, in the disguise of Priests, are regularly admitted within the Conventsfor the same infamous purpose; and that many Infants and Nuns, inproportion to the aggregate amount of the whole body of females, areannually murdered and buried within their precincts. All this turpitudeis as assuredly believed by the vast majority of the enlightenedProtestants, as well as by multitudes of even the Papists in Montrealand Quebec, as their own existence; and judging from their declarations, they have no more doubt of the fact, than they have of the summer'ssunshine, and the winter's frost and snow. Of what value, therefore, isthe cavil of ignorance respecting improbabilities?

But it is also objected, that the British government would not toleratesuch a system of enormous wickedness. To which it is replied, that theinordinate licentiousness of the Roman Priests and Nuns in Canada, isdemonstrated to be of long standing by the archives of that Province, asmay be seen in Smith's History of Canada; year 1733, Chapter 5, p. 194. 

The author of that work is Secretary of the Province; and his narrativewas compiled immediately from the public documents, which are under hisofficial guardianship and control. He thus writes:--"The irregularitiesand improper conduct of the Nuns of the General Hospital had been thesubject of much regret and anxiety. Contrary to every principle oftheir institution, they frequently accepted of invitations to dinnersand suppers, and mixed in society, without considering the vows whichrestricted them to their Convent. The king of France directed a letter, Maurepas' letter of April 9, 1733, to be written to the Coadjutor ofQuebec, by the minister having the department of the Marine; importingthat the king was much displeased with the Nuns--that regularity andorder might be restored by reducing the nuns to the number of twelve, according to their original establishment--and that, as the managementand superintendence of the community had been granted to the Governor, Prelate, and Intendant, the Coadjutor should take the necessary measuresto prevent them from repeating conduct so indecent and improper. "

The entire affair seems to have been this; that the Nuns of Quebec atthat period preferred the gallant military officers, and theirbewitching festivities, to the coarser and less diversified indulgencesof the Jesuits; upon which the latter murmured, and resolved to hinderthe soldiers from intruding into their fold, and among the cloisteredfemales, to visit whom they claimed as their own peculiar privilege, inseparably attached to their priestly character and ecclesiasticalfunctions. It is infallibly certain that after a lapse of 100 years, neither the Jesuits nor the Nuns in Canada, are in the smallest particlereformed. 

The British government, by the treaty made upon the surrender of thatprovince to them, guarantied to the Papal Ecclesiastics, both male andfemale, their prior exemptions and special immunities. Many of theofficers of the Government in Canada, who have long resided there, areanxious to see the nunneries and their adjuncts totally extirpated; andit may be safely asserted that they know the character given of thoseinstitutions by Maria Monk is a graphical picture of their continuousdoings. 

The British government, for the purpose of retaining their supremacyover the province, have not only connived at those irregularities, buthave always enjoined that the public sanction should be given to theirpuerile shows, and their pageant, pompous processions by the attendanceof the civil and military officers upon them, and by desecrating theLord's day with martial music, &c. In this particular affair, theexecutive officers of the Provincial Government are fully apprised ofall the substantial facts in the case; for an affidavit of the principalcircumstances was presented to Mr. Ogden, the Attorney General ofCanada, and to Mr. Grant, another of the King's counsellors: andafterward Maria Monk did undergo an examination by those gentlemen, inthe house of Mr. Grant, at Montreal, in the presence of Mr. Comte, oneof the superior order of priests of that city; and of another Priest, believed to be either Phelan or Dufresne, who was concealed behind thesofa. 

It is also incontrovertible, that the nominal Papists in Canada, who, inreality, are often infidels, notwithstanding their jocose sneers, andaffected contempt, do generally believe every title of Maria Monk'snarrative. This is the style in which they talk of it. They first, according to custom, loudly curse the authors; for to find a Papistinfidel who does not break the third commandment, is as difficult as topoint out a moral Roman Priest or a chaste Nun. They first swear at theauthor, and then, with a hearty laugh, add the following illustration:--"Everybody knows that the Priests are a jolly set of fellows, who livewell, and must have license, or they would be contrary to nature. Theyhave the privilege of going into the nunneries, and they would be greatfools if they did not use and enjoy it!" Such is the exact languagewhich is adopted among the Canadians; and such are the precise wordswhich have been used by Canadian gentlemen in New York, when criticisingMaria Monk's volume. It affords stronger proof than a directattestation. 

The other class of persons who verily believe the "Awful Disclosures, "are the religious community in Canada. We think that scarcely a well-informed person can be discovered in Montreal or Quebec, who does notfeel assured, that the interior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery is mostfaithfully depicted by Maria Monk. Many persons are now inhabitants ofNew York who formerly resided in Montreal, some of whom have been uponterms of familiar intimacy for years with those Roman Priests, who arespecified as the principal actors in the scenes depicted in that book;and they most solemnly declare, that they have no doubt of the truth ofMaria Monk's narrative. 

Mr. _Samuel B. Smith_, who has been not only a Roman Priest, buthas had several _cages of nuns_ under his sole management, questioned Maria Monk expressly respecting those affairs, customs andceremonies, which appertain only to nunneries, because they cannot bepracticed by any other females but those who are shut up in thosedungeons; and, after having minutely examined her, he plainly averredthat it was manifest she could not have known the things which shecommunicated to him unless she had been a nun; not merely a scholar, ora temporary resident, or even a novice, but a nun, who had taken theveil, in the strictest sense of the appellative. This testimony is ofthe more value, because the conclusion does not depend upon anyconflicting statements, of partial or prejudicial witnesses, but upon afact which is essential to the system of monachism; that no persons canknow all the secrets of nunneries, but the Chaplain, the Abbess, andtheir accomplices in that "mystery of iniquity. " Mr. Smith's declarationin one other respect is absolutely decisive. He has declared not onlythat Maria Monk has been a nun, but also that the descriptions which shegives are most minutely accurate. 

Mr. Smith also testifies that the account which Maria Monk gives of theproceedings of the priests, the obscene questions which they ask youngfemales, and their lewd practices with them at auricular confession, areconstantly exemplified by the Roman Priests; and he also confirms herstatements, by the testimony of his own individual experience, andactual personal acquaintance with the Canadian nunneries, as well aswith those in the United States, and especially of that at Monroe, Michigan, which was dissolved by Mr. Fenwick, on account of scandalousimpurity, several years ago. 

Mrs. ----, a widow lady now in New York, who formerly was a Papist inMontreal, and was recently converted to Christianity, solemnly avers, that the Priest Richards himself, conducted her from the Seminarythrough the subterraneous passage to the nunnery, and describes thewhole exactly in accordance with the statement of Maria Monk. 

_Mr. Lloyd_, who was in business a number of years adjacent to thenunnery, and who is intimately acquainted with those priests, theircharacters, principles, and habits, avows his unqualified conviction ofthe truth of the "Awful Disclosures. "

_Mr. Hogan_, who was eighteen months in the Jesuit Seminary atMontreal, and in constant intercourse and attendance upon Lartigue andhis accomplices, unequivocally affirms, that Maria Monk's complexdescription of those Priests are most minutely and accurately true. 

One hundred other persons probably can be adduced, who, during theirresidence in Canada, or on their tours to that province, by inquiriesascertained that things in accordance with Maria Monk's delineations arethe undoubted belief of each class of persons, and of every variety ofcondition, and in all places which they visited in Lower Canada. 

_Mr. Greenfield_, the father of the gentleman who owns the twosteamboats on the river St. Lawrence, called the Lady of the Lake, andthe Canadian Eagle, who is a citizen of New York, avows his unqualifiedassent to all Maria Monk's statements, and most emphatically adds--_"Maria Monk has not disclosed one tenth part of the truth respectingthe Roman Priests and Nuns in Canada. "_

Fifty other persons from that province, now residing in New York, likewise attest the truth of the "Disclosures. "

At Sorel, Berthier, and Three Rivers, the usual stopping-places for thesteamboats on the River St. Lawrence, the Priests, if they have anycause to be at the wharf, may be seen accompanied by one or morechildren, their _"Nephews, "_ as the Priests _facetiously_denominate their offspring; and if any person on the steamboat should beheard expatiating upon the piety, the temperance, the honesty, or thepurity of Roman Priests and Nuns, he would be laughed at outright, either as a _natural_ or an ironical jester; while the priesthimself would join in the merriment, as being a "capital joke. "

We are assured by the most indisputable authority in Montreal, that thestrictly religious people in that city do generally credit Maria Monk'sstatements without hesitation; and the decisive impression of herveracity can never be removed. If it were possible at once to reform thenunneries, and to transform them from castles of ignorance, uncleanness, and murder, where all their arts are concealed in impervious secrecy, into abodes of wisdom, chastity, and benevolence to every recess ofwhich all persons, at every hour, might have unrestricted admission--that would not change the past; it would leave them indelibly brandedwith the emphatical title applied to the nunnery at Charlestown, "FILTHY, MURDEROUS DENS. "

3. _Who are those who deny the truth of the book? Case of FatherConroy. Father Conroy's deception. _

In addition to the objections from improbability, another series ofopposition consists of flat, broad denials of the truth of Maria Monk's"Awful Disclosures. " This mode of vanquishing direct charges is evenmore invalid than the former futile cavilling. It is also remarkable, when we remember who are the persons that deny the statements made byMaria Monk. Are they the Roman Priests implicated? Not at all. They aretoo crafty. The only persons who attempt to hint even a suspicion of thetruth of the secrets divulged in the "Awful Disclosures, " are editors ofNewspapers: some of whom are ever found on the side of infidelity andvice; men always reproaching religion; and directly calumniating, orscornfully ridiculing the best Christians in the land; and profoundlyignorant of Popery and Jesuitism, and the monastic system. 

It is true that Priest Conroy of New York, has contradicted in generalterms the truth of the statement respecting himself, and his attempt toabduct Maria Monk from the Almshouse. But what does he deny? He isplainly charged, in the "Awful Disclosures, " with a protracted endeavor, _by fraud or by force to remove Maria Monk from that institution_. Now that charge involves a flagrant misdemeanor, or it is a wicked andgross libel. Let him answer the following questions:

Did he not frequently visit the house, and lurk about at various times, for longer and shorter periods, expressly to have an interview withMaria Monk?

Did he not state that he was acquainted with her by the name she bore inthe nunnery, _Sainte Eustace_. 

Did he not declare that he was commissioned by Lartigue, Phelan, Dufresne, Kelly, and the Abbess of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal, to obtain a possession of her, that she might be sent back to the abodeof the Furies?

Did he not offer her any thing she pleased to demand, provided she wouldreside with the Ursulines of this city?

Did he not also declare that he would have her at all risks, and thatshe could not escape him?

Did he not persevere in this course of action, until he was positivelyassured that she would not see him, and that the Priest Conroy shouldnot have access to Maria Monk?

Was not the priest Kelly, from Canada, in New York at that period, prompting Conroy; and did not that same Kelly come on here expressly toobtain possession of Maria Monk, that he might carry her back to theHotel Dieu Nunnery, there to murder her, as his accomplices havesmothered, poisoned, and bled to death other victims of their beastlylicentiousness?

All these questions are implied in Maria Monk's statement, and theyinvolve the highest degree of crime against the liberty, rights, andlife of Maria Monk, and the laws of New York, and the charge is eithertrue or false. Why does not the Priest Conroy try it? Why does he notdemonstrate that he is calumniated, by confronting the Authoress andPublishers of the book before an impartial jury. We are assured that theExecutive committee of the New York Protestant Association will give tendollars to any Lawyer, whom Mr. Conroy will authorize to institute acivil suit for libel, payable at the termination of the process. Will hesubject the question to that scrutiny? _Never_. He would ratherfollow the example of his fellow priests, and depart from New York. Manyof the Maynooth Jesuits, after having fled from Ireland for theircrimes, to this country, to avoid the punishments due to them for therepetition of them in the United States, and to elude discovery, haveassumed false names and gone to France; or in disguise have joined theirdissolute companions in Canada. 

It is also a fact, that the Priest, named Quarter, with one of hisminions, did visit the house where Maria Monk resides, on the 13th dayof February, 1836; and did endeavor to see her alone, under the falsepretext of delivering to her a packet from her brother in Montreal; andas an argument for having an interview with her without company, one ofthe two impostors did protest that he had a parcel from John Monk; which"he had sworn not to deliver except into the hands of his sister inperson. " Now what object had Mr. Quarter in view; and what was hisdesign in going to her residence between nine and ten o'clock at night, under a lying pretence? Mr. Quarter comes from Canada. He knows all thePriests of Montreal. For what purpose did he assume a fictitiouscharacter, and utter base and wilful falsehoods, that, he might haveaccess to her, with another man, when Maria Monk, as they hoped, wouldbe without a protector? For what ignoble design did he put an old TruthTeller into a parcel, and make his priest-ridden minion declare that itwas a very valuable packet of letters from John Monk? That strangecontrivance requires explanation. Did Priest Quarter believe that MariaMonk was in Montreal? Did he doubt her personal identity? Does not thatfact alone verity that all the Roman Priests are confederated? Does itnot prove that her delineations are correct? Does it not evince that thePapal Ecclesiastics dread the disclosures?

4. _The great ultimate test which the nature of this case demands. Challenge of the New York Protestant Association_. --It is readilyadmitted, that the heinous charges which are made by Maria Monk againstthe Roman priests cannot easily be rebutted in the usual form ofdisproving criminal allegations. The denial of those Priests is good fornothing, and they cannot show an alibi. But there is one mode ofdestroying Maria Monk's testimony, equally _prompt_ and_decisive_, and no other way is either feasible, just, or can beefficient. That method is the plan proposed by the New York ProtestantAssociation. 

The Hotel Dieu Nunnery is in Montreal. Here is Maria Monk's descriptionof its interior apartments and passages. She offers to go to Montrealunder the protection of a committee of four members of the New YorkProtestant Association, and in company with four gentlemen of Montreal, to explore the Nunnery; and she also voluntarily proposes that if herdescriptions of the interior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery are not found tobe true, she will surrender herself to Lartigue and his confederates totorture her in what way they may please, or will bear the punishment ofthe civil laws as a base and wilful slanderer of the Canadian JesuitEcclesiastics. 

When Lartigue, Bonin, Dufresne, Phelan, Richards, and their fellows, accede to this proposition, we shall hesitate respecting Maria Monk'sveracity; until then, by all impartial and intelligent judges, and byenlightened Protestants and Christians, the "Awful Disclosures" will bepronounced undeniable facts. The scrutiny, however, respecting MariaMonk's credibility comprises two general questions, to which we shallsuccinctly reply. 

1. _Was Maria Monk a Nun in the Hotel Dieu Convent at Montreal?_--In ordinary cases, to dispute respecting a circumstance of that kindwould be deemed a most strange absurdity; and almost similar to aninquiry into a man's personal identity when his living form is beforeyour eyes. Maria Monk says she was a nun, presents you a bookdescriptive of the Convent in which she resided, and leaves the fact ofher abode there to be verified by the minute accuracy of herdelineations of arcana, with which only the visiting Roman Priests andthe imprisoned nuns are acquainted. That test, neither Lartigue nor thePriests will permit to be applied; and therefore, so far, Maria Monk'stestimony cannot directly be corroborated. It is however not a littleremarkable, that no one of all the persons so boldly impeached by her ofthe most atrocious crimes, has, even whispered a hint that she was not anun; while the priest Conroy has confirmed that fact far more certainlythan if he had openly asserted its truth. 

5. _The Testimony of Mrs. Monk considered. _--The only evidenceagainst that fact is her mother. Now it is undeniable, that her motheris a totally incompetent witness. She is known in Montreal to be a womanof but little principle; and her oath in her daughter's favour would beinjurious to her; for she is so habitually intemperate, that it isquestionable whether she is ever truly competent to explain any matterswhich come under her notice. Truth requires this declaration, althoughMaria, with commendable filial feelings, did not hint at the fact. Besides, during a number of years past, she has exhibited a mostunnatural aversion, or rather animosity, to her daughter; so that to herbarbarous usage of Maria when a child, may be imputed the subsequentscenes through which she has passed. When appealed to respecting herdaughter, her uniform language was such as this--"I do not care whatbecomes of her, or who takes her, or where she goes, or what is done toher, provided she keeps away from me. " It is also testified by the mostunexceptionable witnesses in Montreal, that when Maria Monk went to thatcity in August, 1835, and first made known her case, that Mrs. Monkrepeatedly declared, that her daughter had been a Nun; and that she hadbeen in the Nunneries at Montreal a large portion of her life. She alsoavowed, that the offer of bribery that had been made unto her, had beenmade, not by Protestants, to testify that her daughter Maria had been aninmate of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery; but by the Roman Priests, who hadpromised her one hundred dollars, if she would make an affidavit thatMaria had not been in that nunnery at all; and would also swear to anyother matters which they dictated. Now there is little room for doubt, that the affidavit to the truth of which she finally swore was thusobtained; for she has not capacity to compose such a narrative, nor hasshe been in a state of mind, for a number of years past, to understandthe details which have thus craftily been imposed upon the public in hername. When she had no known inducement to falsify the fact in August, 1835, before the Priests became alarmed, then she constantly affirmedthat her daughter had been a Nun; but after Lartigue and his companionswere assured that her daughter's narrative would appear, then the motherwas probably bribed, formally to swear to a wilful falsehood; for it ismost probable, that she either did not see, or from intoxication couldnot comprehend, the contents of the paper to which her signature isaffixed. Her habitual intemperance, her coarse impiety, her long-indulged hatred and cruelty towards her daughter, and her flat self-contradictions, with her repeated and public declarations, that she hadbeen offered a large sum of money by the Montreal Priests, thus todepreciate her daughter's allegations, and to attest upon oath preciselythe contrary to that which she had previously declared, to persons whosesole object was to ascertain the truth--all those things demonstratethat Mrs. Monk's evidence is of no worth; and yet that is all theopposite evidence which can be adduced. 

6. _Testimony in favour of the book_. --Mr. Miller the son of AdamMiller, a well known teacher at St. John's, who has known Maria Monkfrom her childhood, and who is now a resident of New York, solemnlyattests, that in the month of August, 1833, he made inquiries of Mrs. Monk respecting her daughter Maria, and that Mrs. Monk informed him thatMaria was then a _Nun!_ that she had taken the veil previous tothat conversation, and that she had been in the nunnery for a number ofyears. Mr. Miller voluntarily attests to that fact. He was totallyignorant of Maria Monk's being out of the Nunnery at Montreal, until hesaw her book, and finally by searching out her place of abode, renewedthe acquaintance with her which had existed between them from the periodwhen she attended his father's school in her childhood. See theaffidavit of William Miller. 

When Maria Monk made her escape, as she states, from the Hotel DieuNunnery, she took refuge in the house of a woman named Lavalliere inElizabeth street, Montreal, the second or third door from the corner ofwhat is commonly called "the Bishop's Church. " Madame Lavalliereafterward admitted, that Maria Monk did arrive at her house at the timespecified, in the usual habiliments of a Nun, and made herself known asan eloped Nun; that she provided her with other clothing; and that sheafterward carried the Nun's garments to the Hotel Dieu Nunnery. 

After her escape, Maria Monk narrates that she went on board a steamboatfor Quebec, intending thereby to avoid being seized and againtransferred to the Nunnery, that she was recognised by the Captain, waskept under close watch during the whole period of the stay of that boatat Quebec, and merely by accident escaped the hands of the Priests, bywatching for an unexpected opportunity to gain the shore during theabsence of the Captain, and the momentary negligence of the femaleattendant in the cabin. The woman was called Margaret ----, the othername is forgotten. The name of the Master of the steamboat is probablyknown and he has never pretended to deny that statement, that he didthus detain Maria Monk, would not permit her to go on shore at Quebec, and that he also conducted her back to Montreal; having suspected orascertained that she was a Nun who had clandestinely escaped from aConvent. 

7. _Corroborative evidence unintentionally furnished by the opponentsof the book_. --After her flight from the steamboat, she was foundearly in the morning, in a very perilous situation, either on the banks, or partly in Lachine Canal, and was committed to the public prison byDr. Robertson, whence she was speedily released through the interventionof Mr. Esson, one of the Presbyterian ministers of Montreal. Upon thistopic, her statement coincides exactly with that of Dr. Robertson. 

But he also states--"Although incredulous as to the truth of MariaMonk's story, I thought it incumbent upon me to make some inquiryconcerning it, and have ascertained where she has been residing a greatpart of the time she states having been an inmate of the Nunnery. Duringthe summer of 1832, she was at service at William Henry; the winters of1832-3, she passed in this neighborhood at St. Ours and St. Denis. "

That is most remarkable testimony, because, although Papists may justlybe admitted to know nothing of times and dates, unless by theirCarnivals, their Festivals, their Lent, or their Penance--yet ProtestantMagistrates might be more precise. Especially, as it is a certain fact, that no person at Sorel can be discovered, who is at all acquainted withsuch a young woman in service in the summer of 1832. It is true, she didreside at St. Denis or St. Ours, as the _Roman Priests cantestify_; but not at the period specified by Dr. Robertson. 

For the testimony of a decisive witness in favour of Maria Monk, see thestatement of an old schoolmate in Appendix. 

8. _Summary view of the evidence_. --Let us sum up thiscontradictory evidence respecting the simple fact, whether Maria Monkwas a resident of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery or not?

Her mother says--"I denied that my daughter had ever been in a Nunnery. "Dr. Robertson informed us--"I have ascertained where she has beenresiding a great part of the time she states having been an inmate ofthe Nunnery. " That is all which can be adduced to contradict MariaMonk's statement. 

This is a most extraordinary affair, that a young woman's place of abodecannot be accurately discovered during several years, when all thecontroversy depends upon the fact of that residence. Why did not Dr. Robertson specify minutely with whom Maria Monk lived at service atWilliam Henry, in the summer of 1832?--Why did not Dr. Robertson exactlydesignate where, and with whom, she resided at St. Denis and St. Ours, in the winters of 1832 and 1833? The only answer to these questions isthis--_Dr. Robertson cannot_. He obtained his contradictoryinformation most probably from her mother, or from the Priest Kelly, andthen embodied it in his affidavit to regain that favour and popularitywith the Montreal Papists which he has so long lost. We are convincedthat neither the evidence of Mrs. Monk, nor Dr. Robertson, would be of afeather's weight in a court of justice against the other witnesses, Mrs. ----, and Mr. William Miller. 

Maria Monk asserts, that she was a resident of the Hotel Dieu Nunneryduring the period designated by Dr. Robertson, which is familiarlydenominated the Cholera summer. In her narrative she develops a varietyof minute and characteristic details of proceedings in that Institution, connected with things which all persons in Montreal know to haveactually occurred, and of events which it is equally certain did happen, and which did not transpire anywhere else; and which is impossible couldhave taken place at Sorel or William Henry; because there is no Nunnerythere; and consequently her descriptions would be purely fabricated andfictitious. 

But the things asserted are not inventions of imagination. No personcould thus delineate scenes which he had not beheld; and therefore MariaMonk witnessed them; consequently, she was a member of that familycommunity; for the circumstances which she narrates nowhere elseoccurred. At all events, it seems more reasonable to suppose that anindividual can more certainly tell what had been his own course of life, than persons who, by their own admission, know nothing of the subject;and especially when her statements are confirmed by such unexceptionablewitnesses. There are, however, two collateral points of evidence whichstrongly confirm Maria Monk's direct statements. One is derived from thevery character of the acknowledgments which she made, and the periodwhen they were first disclosed. "A death-bed, " says the Poet, "is adetector of the heart. " Now it is certain, that the appalling factswhich she states, were not primarily made in a season of hilarity, orwith any design to "make money" by them, or with any expectation thatthey would be known to any other person than Mr. Hilliker, Mr. Tappan, and a few others at Bellevue; but when there was no anticipation thather life would be prolonged, and when agonized with the most dreadfulretrospection and prospects. 

It is not possible to believe, that any woman would confess those factswhich are divulged by Maria Monk, unless from dread of death and thejudgment to come, or from the effect of profound Christian penitence. Feminine repugnance would be invincible. Thus, the alarm of eternity, her entrance upon which appeared to be so immediate, was the only causeof those communications; which incontestably prove, that Nunneries arethe very nurseries of the most nefarious crimes, and the most abandonedtransgressors. 

The other consideration is this--that admitting the statements to betrue, Maria Monk could not be unconscious of the malignity of RomanPriests, and of her own danger; and if her statements were fictitious, she was doubly involving herself in irreparable disgrace and ruin. Ineither case, as long as she was in New York she was personally safe; andas her disclosures had been restricted to very few persons, she mighthave withdrawn from the public institution, and in privacy have passedaway her life, "alike unknowing and unknown. " Lunacy itself could onlyhave instigated a woman situated as she was, to visit Montreal, andthere defy the power, and malice, and fury of the Roman Priests, andtheir myrmidons; by accumulating upon them charges of rape, infanticide, the affliction of the tortures of the Inquisition, and murders of cold-blooded ferocity in the highest degree, with all the atrociousconcomitant iniquities which those prolific sins include. 

Now it is certain, that she was not deranged; and she was not forced. She went deliberately, and of her own accord, to meet the Popish Priestsupon the spot where their crimes are perpetrated, and the stronghold oftheir power. Whether that measure was the most prudent and politic forherself, and the most wise and efficient for the acquisition of theavowed object, may be disputed; but the exemplary openness and themagnanimous daring of that act cannot be controverted. 

The narrative, pages 116 to l27, respecting the cholera and the electionriots at Montreal, both which scenes happened at the period when Dr. Robertson says Maria Monk was at William Henry, or St. Denis, or St. Ours; could not have been described, at least that part of it respectingthe wax candles, and the preparation for defence, except by a residentof the Nunnery. 

It is a public, notorious fact, that "blessed candles" were made, andsold by the Nuns, and used at Montreal under the pretext to preserve thehouses from the Cholera, and to drive it away; that those candles weredirected so to be kept burning by the pretended injunction of the Pope;and that large quantities of the Nunnery candles were dispersed aboutMontreal and its vicinity, which were fixed at a high price; and whoeversuffered by the Cholera, the Nuns and their Masters, the Priests, couldtruly say--"By this craft we have our wealth. " Acts 19:25. It isobvious, that a young Papist woman at service at William Henry, couldknow no more of those matters, than if she had been at Labrador; for theincidental remark with which that part of the narrative commences, isone of those apparently superfluous intimations, which it is evident aperson who was writing a fiction would not introduce; and yet it is soprofoundly characteristic of a Canadian Convent, that its very simpleartlessness at once obliterates Dr. Robertson's affidavit. "There were afew instances, and only a few, in which we knew any thing that washappening in the world; and even then our knowledge did not extend outof the city. " We cannot be infallibly certain of Maria Monk'sdescription of the interior of the Nunnery; but that unpremeditatedremark, so minutely descriptive of the predominating ignorance among theNuns of all terrestrial concerns exterior of the Convent, issatisfactory proof that the narrator was not sketching from fancy, butdepicting from actual life. 

From those testimonies, direct and unintentional, it is fully evident, that Maria Monk was a long resident, and is profoundly acquainted withthe doings in the Hotel Dieu Convent at Montreal. 

II. What collateral evidence can be adduced of the truth of the "AwfulDisclosures" by Maria Monk?

1. One corroborative testimony is derived from the _silence of theRoman Priests and their avowed partisans_. Months have passed awaysince the first statements of those matters were made, and also thedefence of the Priests, with the affidavits and other connectedcircumstances, were presented to the public in the ProtestantVindicator. One of the persons in Montreal, who was in favour of theJesuits, Mr. Doucet, stated that "the Priests never take up such things;they allow their character to defend itself. " There was a time when thatcontemptuous course would have sufficed, or rather, when to have spokenthe truth of the Roman Priests would have cost a man his life, andoverwhelmed his family in penury, disgrace, and anguish. The CanadianJesuits may be assured that time has passed away, never more to return. They must take up this thing; for their characters cannot defendthemselves; and every enlightened man in Canada knows, that in a moralaspect, they cannot be defended. 

Argument, denial, affidavits, if they could reach from Montreal to NewYork, and the oaths of every Papist and Infidel in Canada, --from JosephSignay, the Popish Prelate of Quebec and Jean Jacques Lartigue, theSuffragan of Montreal, down to the most profligate of the half-paymilitary officers, among whom are to be found some of the dregs of theBritish army, all of them will avail nothing. They are not worth a puffof wind against the internal evidence of Maria Monk's book, in connexionwith the rejection of the proposal of the New York ProtestantAssociation, that the Nunnery shall undergo a strict and impartialexamination. It is one of the remarkable evidences of the extraordinarydelusion which blinds, or the infatuation which enchains the publicmind, that men will not credit the corruptions and barbarities ofRomanism. To account for this stupefaction among persons who are wideawake to every other system of deadly evil, is almost impossible. Poperynecessarily extirpates the rights of man. It ever has destroyed thewell-being of society. By it, all municipal law and domestic obligationsare abrogated: It always subverts national prosperity and stability; andit is the invincible extinguisher of all true morality and genuinereligion. Notwithstanding, men will give credence neither to its ownavowed principles, character, and spirit; nor to the unavoidable effectswhich constantly have flowed from its operations and predominance. 

In any other case but one exposing the abominations of Popery, such avolume as Maria Monk's "Awful Disclosures" would have been receivedwithout cavil; and immediate judicial measures would have been adopted, to ascertain the certainty of the alleged facts, and the extent andaggravation of their criminality. But now persons are calling for moreevidence, when, if they reflected but for a moment, they would perceive, that the only additional evidence possible, is under the entire controlof the very persons who are criminated; and to whom the admission offurther testimony would be the accumulation of indelible ignominy. 

The pretence, that it is contrary to their rules to allow strangers toexplore the interior of a nunnery, only adds insult to crime. Why shoulda Convent be exempt from search, more than any other edifice? Why shouldRoman Priests be at liberty to perpetrate every deed of darkness inimpenetrable recesses called nunneries? Why should one body of females, shut up in a certain species of mansion, to whom only one class of menhave unrestricted access, be excluded from all public and legalsupervision, more than any other habitation of lewd women, into whichall men may enter? As citizens of the United States, we do not pretendto have any authoritative claim to explore a convent within the dominionof a foreign potentate. The Roman Priests of Canada, exercise a vastinfluence, and are completely intertwined with the Jesuits, in thisrepublic. Therefore, when they remember the extinction of the nunneriesat Monroe, Michigan, Charlestown, and Pittsburg; and when theyrecollect, that the delineations of Maria Monk, if they produce noeffect in Canada, will assuredly render female convents in the UnitedStates very suspicious and insecure; if they have any solicitude fortheir confederates, they will intrepidly defy research, and dauntlesslyaccept the offer of the New York Protestant Association: that a jointcommittee of disinterested, enlightened and honorable judges, shouldfully investigate, and equitably decide upon the truth or falsehood ofMaria Monk's averments. Their ominous silence, their affected contempt, and their audacious refusal, are calculated only to convince everyimpartial person, of even the smallest discernment, of the real state ofthings in that edifice; that the chambers of pollution are above, andthat the dungeon of torture and death are below; and that they dread theexposure of the theatre on which their horrible tragedies are performed. 

It is also a fact publicly avowed by certain Montreal Papiststhemselves, and extensively told in taunt and triumph, that they havebeen employed as masons and carpenters by the Roman Priests, since MariaMonk's visit to Montreal in August, 1835, expressly to alter variousparts of the Hotel Dieu Convent, and to close up some of thesubterraneous passages and cells in that nunnery. This circumstance isnot pretended even to be disputed or doubted; for when the dungeonsunder ground are spoken of before the Papists, their remark is this: "Ehbien! mais vous ne les trouverez pas, à present; on les a caché hors devue. Very well, you will not find them there now; they are closed up, and out of sight. " Why was the manoeuvre completed? Manifestly, that inurgent extremity, a casual explorer might be deceived, by the apparentproof that the avenues, and places of imprisonment and torture whichMaria Monk describes are not discoverable. Now that circumstance mightnot even been suspected, if the Papist workmen themselves had not openlyboasted of the chicanery by which the Priests, who employed them, expected to blind and deceive the Protestants. For in reference to theRomanists, a Popish Priest well knows that nothing more is necessarythan for him to assert any absurdity, however gross or impossible, andattest it by the five crosses on his vestments, and his ownsuperstitious vassal believes it with more assurance than his ownpersonal identity. But the filling up and the concealment of the oldapertures in the nunnery, by the order of the Roman Priests are scarcelyless powerful corroborative proof of Maria Monk's delineations, thanocular and palpable demonstration. 

2. Some of the circumstances attending Maria Monk's visit to Montreal, in August, 1835, add great weight in favour of the truth, which nocavils, skepticism, scorn, nor menaces, can counterbalance. 

We will however state one very recent occurrence, because it seems tous, that it alone is almost decisive of the controversy. A counsellor ofQuebec--his name is omitted merely from delicacy and prudentialconsiderations--has been in New York since the publication of the "AwfulDisclosures" His mind was so much influenced by the perusal of thatvolume, that he sought out the Authoress, and most closely searched intothe credibility of her statements. Before the termination of theinterview, that gentleman became so convinced of the truth of thepicture which Maria Monk drew of the interior of the Canadian Nunneries, that he expressed himself to the following effect:--"My daughter, about15 years of age, is in the Ursuline Convent at Quebec. I will returnhome immediately; and if I cannot remove her any other way, I will dragher out by the hair of her head, and raise a noise about their ears thatshall not soon be quieted. "

That gentleman did so return to Quebec, since which he has again visitedNew York; and he stated, that upon his arrival in Quebec, he went to theConvent, and instantly removed his daughter from the Ursuline Nunnery;from whom he ascertained, as far as she had been initiated into themysteries, that Maria Monk's descriptions of Canadian Nunneries, aremost minutely and undeniably accurate. 

We have already remarked, that Mrs. ----, Mr. Lloyd, Mr. Hogan, and Mr. Smith, who was a Papist Priest, with scores of other persons whoformerly resided in Montreal, all express their unqualified belief ofthe statements made by Maria Monk. Mr. Ogden's acquaintance with thefacts, as Attorney General, and that of other officers of the ProvincialGovernment, have also been noticed. The ensuing additional circumstancesare of primary importance to a correct estimate of the value whichshould be attached to the crafty silence of the Roman Priests and theimpudent denials of infidel profligates. 

Mr. Bouthillier, one of the Montreal Magistrates, called at Mr. Johnson's house where Maria Monk stayed, in the month of August, 1835, when visiting Montreal. 

He addressed her and said:--"There is some mystery about Novices--Whatis it? and asked how long a woman must be a novice before she can takethe veil?" Having been answered, Mr. Bouthillier then desired Maria Monkto describe the Superior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery. As soon as it wasdone, he became enraged, and said--"Vous dites un mensonge, vous ensavez. You lie, you know you do?"--Mr. Bouthillier next inquired--"WasMr. Tabeau in the Holy Retreat when you left the Convent?" She answered"Yes. " To which he replied in French--"Anybody might have answered thatquestion. " Something having been said about the Hotel Dieu Nuns beingconfined to their convent, Mr. Bouthillier declared, that they wereallowed to go about the streets. He was told that could not be the case, for it was a direct violation of the rules for Nuns to depart from theHotel Dieu Nunnery. He replied--"Ce n'est pas vrai. That is not true, "Mr. Bonthillier then became very angry, and applied to Maria Monk somevery abusive epithets, for which a gentleman in the room reproved him. It was evident, that he lost his temper because he had lost hisargument, and his hopes of controverting her statements. 

On the Lord's day after Maria Monk's arrival in Montreal, and when thematter had become well known and much talked about, Phelan, the Priest, at the end of mass, addressed the Papists, who were assembled to hearmass, to this effect: "There is a certain nun in this city who has leftour faith, and joined the Protestants. She has a child of which she isready to swear I am the father. She wishes in this way to take my gownfrom me. If I knew where to find her, I would put her in prison. Imention this to guard you against being deceived by what she may say. The Devil now has such hold upon people that there is danger lest somemight believe her story. " He then pretended to weep, and appeared to beovercome with feeling. A number of the people gathered around him, andhe said: "That nun is Antichrist. She is not a human being, but an evilspirit, who got among the Catholics, and _was admitted into thenunnery_, where she learned the rules. " He also stated, that "in thatnun, the prophecy respecting the coming of Antichrist is fulfilled, tobreak down the Catholic religion. " Such was Phelan's address to thepeople. He declared that Maria Monk had been a nun. Now he knew her, forhe saw her in Montreal, where she could not know him. It would havesaved all further inquiry and research, if, instead of denouncing herafter mass, he had merely assented to Maria Monk's proposition, to beconfronted with those Roman Priests and nuns before impartial witnessesin the Hotel Dieu Convent. 

One of the most impressively characteristic circumstances which occurredduring Maria Monk's visit to Montreal in Aug. 1835, was an interview atMr. Johnson's house with a carpenter who had heard Phelan's denunciationof Maria Monk after mass. 

The heinous destruction of all domestic confidence and of all femalepurity, is known to be the constant and general practice, not only inCanada, but in all other Popish countries, and among Papists in everypart of the world. For in truth it is only fulfilling the authenticdogmas of their own system. The following authoritative principles aredivulged in the Corpus Juris Canonici, which contains the Decretals, Canons, &c. Of the Popes and Councils; and other participants of thepretended Papal infallibility. "If the Pope fall into homicide oradultery, he cannot be accused, but is excused by the murders of Samson, and the adultery of David. " Hugo, Glossa, distinc. 40 Chapter, Non vos. --"Likewise if any Priest is found embracing a woman, it must bepresupposed and expounded that he doth it to bless her!"--Glossa, Caus. 12. Quest. 3. Chapter Absis. According to the Pope's bull he who doesnot believe those doctrines is accursed. 

As that carpenter was completely overcome by the recollection of thePriest's information and caution about his marriage, he desisted fromany further questions; but upon Maria Monk's declaration, that she wasdesirous to go into the convent, and prove all her accusations againstthe Priests and Nuns, he withdrew. Soon after he returned, and stated, that he had been to the Convent, to inquire respecting her; and that hehad been informed, that she had once belonged to the Nunnery; but thatthey would not any longer own or recognise her. Afterwards he exhibitedthe most contradictory emotions, and first cursed Maria Monk; thenreviled the Priests, applying to them all the loathsome epithets in theCanadian vocabulary. Subsequently, he went to make inquiries at theSeminary; and after his return to Mr. Johnson's house he declared, thatthe persons there had informed him, that Maria Monk had lived in theNunnery, but not as a Nun; then he offered to assist her in herendeavours to expose the Priests; and finally disappeared, swearingaloud as he was retiring from the house; and apparently thinking overthe conduct of the Priest to his wife before their marriage. "Oh, sacre!"--he repeated to himself--"c'est trop mechant!"

Similar facts to the above occurred frequently during the time of MariaMonk's visit to Montreal--in which strangers who called upon her, cursedand reviled her; then believed her statements and assented to them--anddisplayed all the natural excitement which was necessarily comprised inthe working of their own belief and convictions of the iniquity of thePriests, and the dread resulting from their own superstitious vassalage, and the certainty of a heavy penance. 

But in connexion with the preceding collateral evidence is anotherremarkable circumstance, which is this: the extensive knowledge whichMaria Monk has obtained of the Canadian Jesuits. Those with whom she hasbeen acquainted, she affirms that she could instantly identify. For thatobject, she has given a catalogue of those Priests whose names andpersons are in some degree familiarly known to her. As the Priests areoften changing their abodes, and many of them residents in Montrealuntil a vacancy occurs for them in the country parishes, in thoseparticulars there may be a trifling mistake; but Maria Monk solemnlyavers, that the Priests, whether dead or living, who are enumerated inthe subsequent catalogue, either have dwelt or do yet reside in theplaces specified. When unexpectedly and closely examined in reference tothe Priests of the same name, she particularly distinguished them, andpointed out the difference between them in their persons, gait, &c. ;thus precluding all objection from the fact of there being more than onePriest with a similar appellative. This circumstance particularly isillustrated by the Priests named Marcoux, of whom she says there arethree brothers or first cousins--two called Dufresne, &c. : each of whomshe graphically depicts. It is also certain, because she has done it ina great variety of instances, and in the presence of many differentpersons, all of whom are well acquainted with them, that she describesLartigue; Dufresne; Richard; Phelan; Bonin; Comte; Bourget; McMahon;Kelly; Demers; Roux; Roque; Sauvage; Tabeau; Marcoux; Morin; Durocher;and all the Roman Priests around Montreal, with the utmost minuteness ofaccuracy; while the Chaplain of the Ursuline Nunnery at Quebec, FatherDaulè, is as exactly depicted by her, as if her whole life had beenpassed under his _surveillance_. Some of the appellatives in theensuing catalogue may not be correctly spelt. Scarcely any thing is moredifficult than to acquire proper names in a foreign language; andespecially where the pronunciation itself is provincial, as is the casewith Canadian French; and when also those titles have to be transcribedfrom the mouth of a person who knows no more of orthoepy and orthographythan a Canadian Nun. However, Maria Monk attests, that the Priests towhom she refers did reside at those places which she has designated, andthat she has seen them all in the Hotel Dieu Nunnery--some of them veryoften, and others on a variety of occasions. 

Nothing is more improbable, if not impossible, than that any Papist girlshould have such an extensive acquaintance among Roman Priests. InCanada especially, where the large majority of females have little morecorrect knowledge of that which occurs out of their own district than ofHerschel's astronomical discoveries, young women cannot be personallyfamiliar with any Priests, in ordinary cases, except those who may havebeen "Curés" of the parish in which they reside, or of the immediatevicinity, or an occasional visitor during the absence, or sickness, ordeath of the resident Curate or Missionary. Notwithstanding, Maria Monkdelineates to the life, the prominent features, the exact figure, andthe obvious characteristic exterior habits and personal appearance ofmore than one hundred and fifty of those Priests, scattered about in allparts of Canada; Among others she particularly specifies the followingmen: but some of whom she notes as dead. Others she has named, but asher recollections of them are less distinct, they are not enumerated. Jean Jacques Lartigue, Bishop of Telmese, Montreal. The Irish PriestMcMahon, who has resided both in Montreal and Quebec. M. Dufrense, St. Nicholas. L. Cadieux, Vicar General, Three Rivers. F. F. Marcoux, Maskinonge. S. N. Dumoulin, Yamachiche. A. Leclerc, Yomaska. V. Fournier, Baie du Febre. J. Demers, St. Gregoire. C. B. Courtain, Gentilly. T. Pepin, St. Jean. Ignace Bourget, Montreal. The Priest Moor, Missionary. J. C. Prince, Montreal. J. M. Sauvage, Montreal. J. Comte, Montreal. J. H. A. Roux, Vicar General, Montreal. J. Roque, Montreal. A. Malard, Montreal. A. L. Hubart, Montreal. A. Satin, Montreal. J. B. Roupe, Montreal. Nic. Dufresne, Montreal. J. Richard, Montreal. C. Fay, Montreal. J. B. St. Pierre, Montreal. F. Bonin, P. Phelan, Montreal. T. B. M'Mahon, Perce. J. Marcoux, Caghuawaga. C. De Bellefeuille, Lake oftwo Mountains. Claude Leonard, Montreal. F. Durocher, Lake of twoMountains. G. Belmont, St. Francis. F. Demers, Vicar General, St. Denis. J. O. Giroux, St. Benoit. J. B. St. Germain, St. Laurent. J. D. Delisle, St. Cesaire. J. M. Lefebvre, St. Genevieve. F. Pigeon, St. Philippe. A. Duransau, Lachine. O. Chevrefils, St. Constant. Joseph Quiblier, Montreal. Francis Humbert, Montreal. J. Arraud, Montreal. O. Archambault, Montreal. J. Larkin, Montreal. F. Sery, Montreal. R. Larre, Montreal. A. Macdonald, Montreal. F. Larkin, Montreal. J. Beauregard, Montreal. R. Robert, Montreal. J. Fitz Patrick, Montreal. J. Toupin, Montreal. W. Baun, Montreal. T. Filiatreault. Montreal. J. Brady, Montreal. P. Trudel, St. Hyacinth. John Grant, St. Hyacinth. J. Delaire, Chambly. J. Desautels, Chambly. P. D. Ricard, St. Joachim. Jan. Leclaire, Isle Jesus. F. M. Turcot, St. Rose. C. Larocque, Berthier, T. Brassard, St. Elizabeth. J. B. Keller, St. Elizabeth. J. Ravienne, Lanorate. J. T. Gagno, Valtrie. Gasford Guingner, St. Melanie. L. Nicholas Jacques, St. Sulpice. J. Renucalde, St. Jaques. T. Can, St. Esprit. C. J. Ducharme, St. Therese. J. Valliée, St. Scholastique. J. J. Vinet, Arganteuil. M. Power, Beauharnois. J. B. Labelle, Chateauguay. E. Bietz, St. Constant. P. Bedard, St. Remi. C. Aubry, St. Athanase. L. Vinet, Noyon. J. Roque, Noyon. J. Zeph, Carren. F. Berauld, St. Valentia. A. Maresseau, Longueuil. P. Brunet, ----. J. Odelin, Rounilli. J. B. Dupuis, ----. L. Nau, Rouville. A. O. Giroux, St. Marc. G. Marchesseau, ----. J. B. Belanger, St. Ours. H. Marcotte, Isle duPads. E. Crevier, Yamaska. G. Arsonault, ----. Eusebe Durocher, ----. D. Denis, St. Rosalie. F. X. Brunet, St. Damase. J. A. Boisond, St. Pie. M. Quintal, St. Damase. L. Aubry, Points Calire. P. Tetro, Beauharnois. B. Ricard, St. Constant. M. Morin, Maskonche. J. Crevier, Blairfindie. P. Grenier, Charteaguay. A. Darocher, Pointe aux Trembles. P. Murcure, La Presentation. R. Gaulin, Dorchester. H. L. Girouard, St. Hyacinthe. J. Paquin, Blairfinde. E. Brassard, St. Polycarpe. J. Boissonnault, Riviere des Prairies. F. N. Blanchet, Soulanges. E. Lavoie, Blairfindie. J. B. Kelly, Sorel. E. Morriset, St. Cyprian. H. Hudon, Argenteuil. M. Brudet, St. Martin. P. P. Archambault, Vaudreuil. J. B. Boucher, LaPrairie. J. Quevillion, St. Ours. A. Chaboillez, Longueuil. P. J. Delamothe, St. Scholastique. T. Lagard, St. Vincent. J. Durocher, St. Benoit. Antoine Tabeau, Vicar General, Montreal. J. F. Hebard, St. Ours. F. A. Trudeau, Montreal. M. J. Felix, St. Benoit. L. Lamothe, Bethier. J. Moirier, St. Anne. F. J. Deguise, Vicar General, Varennes. J. B. Bedard, St. Denis. R. O. Brunsau, Vercheres. F. Portier, Terrebonne. P. D. Ricard, Berthier. L. Gague, Lachenaie. Joseph Belanger, Chambly. M. Blanchet, St. Charles. P. M. Mignault, Chambly. F. Labelle, L'Assumption. F. Marcoux, St. Barthelemi. N. L. Amiot, Repentigny. J. B. Boucher, Chambly. P. Lafranc, St. Jean Baptiste. P. Robitaille, Monnie. F. De Bellefeullie, St. Vincent. M. Brassard, St. Elizabeth. P. Cousigny, St. Mathias. J. D. Daule, Quebec. 

It is readily admitted, that any person could take one of theEcclesiastical Registers of Lower Canada, and at his option mark anynumber of the Roman Priests in the catalogue, and impute to them anycrime which he pleased. But if the accuser were closely examined, andamong such a multitude of Priests, who in all their clothing are dressedalike, were called upon minutely to delineate them, it is morallyimpossible, that he could depict more than a hundred Priests dispersedfrom the borders of Upper Canada to Quebec, in as many differentparishes, with the most perfect accuracy, unless he was personally andwell acquainted with them. 

Maria Monk, however, does most accurately describe all the Priests inthe preceding catalogue, and repeats them at the expiration of weeks andmonths; and the question is this: how is it possible that she could havebecome acquainted with so many of that body, and by what means can sheso precisely depict their external appearance?--The startling, but theonly plausible answer which can be given to that question is this:--that she has seen them in the Nunnery, whither, as she maintains, mostof them constantly resorted for licentious intercourse with the Nuns. 

One other connected fact may here be introduced. Maria Monk well knowsthe Lady Superior of the Charlestown Nunnery. That acquaintance couldnot have been made in the United States, because Saint Mary St. Georgeas she called herself, or Sarah Burroughs, daughter of the notoriousStephen Burroughs, as is her real name, removed to Canada at the latterend of May, 1835; nor could it have been prior to the establishment ofthe Charlestown Nunnery, for at that period Maria Monk was a child, andwas not in any Convent except merely as a scholar; and Mary St. Georgewas at Quebec. How then did she become so familiar with that far-famedlady as to be able to describe her so exactly? The only answer is, thatshe derived her knowledge of the Charlestown Convent and of itsSuperior, from the intimations given, and from intercourse with that Nunin the Hotel Dieu Nunnery. 

Young females often have been sent to the Nunneries in Canada under thefallacious hope of obtaining for them, a superior education; and veryfrequently, they are suddenly removed after being there but a shortperiod; because the persons to whose partial guardianship they arecommitted perceive that they are in danger of being ensnared by theChaplain and his female Syrens. 

But there are two other particulars in American Nunneries, thetoleration of which almost surpasses credibility. 

In reference to girls, they are permitted to visit their friends, evenwhen they reside in the vicinity of the Convent, only for an hour or twomonthly--if their relatives are at a distance, they see them only duringthe annual vacation, and often remain in the Nunnery during that term. No correspondence is permitted between the mother, the guardian, thesister, or the friends of the young female in the Nunnery School, oneither side, without the inspection of the argus-eyed agent of theInstitution. Parental advice, filial complaints, and confidentialcommunications are equally arrested; and only furnish to the Superiorsof the establishment, artifices to thwart the Seniors, to entangle theJuniors, and effectually to cajole both parties. Consequently, itgenerally happens, that from one term to another, little or nointercourse exists between the youth and her relatives; and it isindubitable, that where any letters do nominally pass between them, theyare forgeries; the real letters being surreptitiously detained. Thosefelonious regulations furnish ample scope for the initiation of girlsjust entering upon womanhood, into all the wickedness of the Nunnery;while the girls themselves are unconscious of the design, and the Nuns, those nefarious artificers of the iniquity, in subserviency to thePriests, in case of necessity, can exculpate themselves apparently fromall participation in the treachery and crimes. 

In the nunneries and conventual schools in the United States there is asort of fairy land, talked about by the nuns to the elder girls. It iscalled the "Nuns' Island. " That country is always described as anearthly paradise; and to girls who are manifestly fascinated by thewitcheries of the nuns, and in whom moral sensibility has become bluntedby the unmeaning superstitions which they witness, and which theymechanically perform, a visit to the "Nuns' Island, " is always proposedas the greatest privilege, and the most costly reward, which can begiven for constant obsequiousness to the nuns, and unreserved compliancewith their requirements. The term "Nuns' Island, " is thus used toexpress the nunneries in Canada, and probably some similar institutionsin the United States, where they are not too difficult of access. At allevents, girls just entering upon the character of women, after propertraining, are finally gratified with a visit to the "Nuns' Island. " Theyare taken to Montreal, and in the nunneries there are at once taught"the mystery of iniquity;" in all the living reality which Maria Monkdescribes. Those girls from the United States, who are represented asnovices; in Maria Monk's "Awful Disclosures, " were young ladies from theUnited States, who had been decoyed to visit the "Nuns' Island, " andwho, not being Papists, often were found very intractable; but posteriorcircumstances enforce the belief, that having found resistance vain, they had not returned to their school where they were duly qualified tocontinue the course into which they had been coerced, so as fully toelude all possibility of discovery and exposure. That mother whointrusts her daughter to a nunnery school, is chargeable with the highcrime of openly conducting her into the chambers of pollution, and thepath to irreligion, and the bottomless pit. 

These combined circumstances satisfactorily prove that, the narrative ofMaria Monk should be believed by all impartial persons; at least, untilother evidence can be adduced, and the offer of exploring the Hotel DieuNunnery, by the New York Protestant Association, has been accepted anddecided. 

3. Additional evidence of the truth of Maria Monk's narrative is deducedfrom _the exact conformity of the facts which she states concerningthe Hotel Dieu Nunnery, when compared with the authoritative principlesof the Jesuit Priesthood as recorded in their own duly sanctionedvolumes_. It is essential to remark, that of those books she knowsnothing; that she has never seen one of them, and if she could graspthem, that they would impart no illumination to her mind, being inLatin; and yet in many momentous particulars, neither Lartigue nor anyone of the Jesuit Priests now in Montreal, who was educated in France, could more minutely and accurately furnish an exposition or practicalillustration of the atrocious themes, than Maria Monk has unconsciouslydone. 

Maria Monk's "Awful Disclosures, " are reducible to three classes:intolerable sensuality; diversified murder; and most scandalousmendacity: comprehending flagrant, and obdurate, and unceasingviolations of the sixth, seventh, and ninth commandments. 

_The ninth commandment:_ FALSEHOOD. Of this baseness, fivespecimens only shall suffice. 

_Sanchez_, a very renowned author, in his work on "Morality and thePrecepts of the Decalogue, " part 2, book 3, chap. 6, no. 13, thusdecides: "A person may take an oath that he has not done any certainthing, though in fact he has. This is extremely convenient, and is also_very just_, when necessary to your health, honour, andprosperity!" _Charli_, in his Propositions, no. 6, affirms that, "He who is not bound to state the truth before swearing, is not bound byhis oath. " _Taberna_ in his vol. 2, part 2, tract 2, chap. 31, p. 288, asks: "Is a witness bound to declare the truth before a lawfuljudge?" To which he replies: "No, if his deposition will injure himselfor his posterity. " _Laymann_, in his works, book 4, tract 2, chap. 2, p. 73, proclaims: "It is not sufficient for an oath, that we use theformal words, if we had not the intention and will to swear, and do not_sincerely_ invoke God as a witness. " All those principles aresanctioned by _Suarez_ in his "Precepts of Law, " book 3, chap. 9, assertion 2, p. 473, where he says, "If any one has promised orcontracted without intention to promise, and is called upon oath toanswer, may simply answer, NO; and may swear to that denial. "

The idea of obtaining truth, therefore, from a thorough-going Papist, upon any subject in which his "_honour_" is concerned--and everyPapist's honour is indissolubly conjoined with "the Church"--is anabsurdity so great, that it cannot be listened to with patience, whilethe above decisions are the authorised dogmas which the Roman Priestsinculcate among their followers. How well the nuns of Montreal haveimbibed those Jesuitical instructions, Maria Monk's "Awful Disclosures"amply reveal. 

_The Sixth Commandment:_ MURDER. The following miscellaneousdecisions are extracted from the works of the regularly sanctioned Romanauthors, of the very highest character and rank in that community. 

In his famous volume called "Aphorisms, " p. 178, _Emmanuel Sa_writes--"You may kill any person who may be able to put you to death--judge and witnesses--because it is self-defence. "

_Henriquez_, in his "Sum of Moral Theology, " vol. 1, book 14, chap. 10, p. 859, decides that "a Priest is not criminal, if he kill thehusband of a woman with whom he is caught in adultery. "

_Airault_ published a number of propositions. One of them says, that "a person may secretly kill another who attempts to destroy hisreputation, although the facts are true which he published. " Thefollowing must be cited in Latin. "An lieitium sit mulieri procurareabortum? Posset ilium excutere, ne honorem suum amittat, qui illi multopretiosior est ipsa vita. " "An liceat mulieri conjugatæ sumere pharmacumsterilitatis? Ita satius est ut hoc faciat, quam ut marito debitiumconjugale recuset. " Censures 319, 322, 327. 

In his Moral Theology, vol. 4, book 32, sec. 2, problem 5, _Escobar_ determines, that "it is lawful to kill an accuser whosetestimony may jeopard your life and honour. "

_Guimenius_ promulged his seventh Proposition in these words: "Youmay charge your opponent with false crimes to destroy his credit; andyou may also kill him. "

_Marin_ wrote a book called "Speculative and Moral Theology. " Invol. 3, tract 23, disputation 8, sec. 5, no. 63, p. 448, are found thefollowing sentences: "Licet procurare abortum, ne puella infametur. "That doctrine is admitted, "to evade personal disgrace, and _toconceal the infamy of Monks and Nuns_. " no. 67, p. 429. In no. 75, p. 430, of the same work, _Marin_ writes: "Navarrus, Arragon, Bannez, Henriquez, Sa, Sanchez, Palao, and others, all say, that a woman mayuse not only missione sanguinis, sed aliis medicamentis, etsi indepereat foetus. " With that doctrine also agrees _Egidius_, in his"Explication of the Decalogue, " vol. 5, book 5, chap. 1, doubt 4; and_Diana_ in his work upon Morality, part 6, tract 8, resolution 27, fully ratifies his sanction. 

_Gobatus_ published a work which he entitled, "Morality, " and invol. 2, part 2, tract 5, chap. 9, sec. 8, p. 318, is the following_edifying_ specimen of Popish morals: "Persons may innocentlydesire to be drunk, if any great good will arise from it. A son whoinherits wealth by his father's death, may rejoice that when he isintoxicated, he murdered his father. " According to which combinedpropositions, a man may make himself drunk expressly to kill his parent, and yet be guiltless. 

_Busenbaum_ wrote a work denominated "Moral Theology. " which wasenlarged and explained by _Lacroix_. In vol. 1, p. 295, is thefollowing position: "In all the cases where a man has a right to killany person, another may do it for him. " But we have already heard by_Escobar_ that any "Roman Priest has a right to kill Maria Monk;and therefore any Papist may murder her for them. "

_Alagona_, in his "Compend of the Sum of Theology, " by ThomasAquinas, question 94, p. 230, "Sums" up all the Romish system in thiscomprehensively blasphemous oracular adage. "_By the command of God, it is lawful to murder the innocent, to rob, and to commit lewdness; andthus to fulfil his mandate, is our duty_. "

_The seventh commandment. _--In his Aphorisms, p. 80, and p. 259, _Sa_ thus decides--"Copulari ante benedictionem, aut nullam autleve peceatum est; quin etiam expedit, si multum isla differatur. "--"Potest et femina quaeque et mas, pro turpi corporis usu, pretium, accipere et petere. "

_Hurtado_ issued a volume of "Disputations and Difficulties. " At p. 476 is the following genuine Popish rule of life--"Carnal intercoursebefore marriage is not unlawful. " So teaches that Jesuit oracle. 

_Dicastillo_, in his work upon "Righteousness and other cardinalVirtues, " p. 87, thus asks--"An puella, quae per vin opprimitur teneaturclamare et opem implorare ne violetur?" The answer is this--"Non videturteneri impedire peccatum alterius--sed mere passive se habere. "

_Escobar_, in his "Moral Theology, " p. 326, 327, 328, of vol. 4, determines that "a man who abducts a woman from affection expressly tomarry her, is guilty of mortal sin, but a Priest who forcibly violatesher through lust, incurs no censure. "

_Tamburin_ unfolds the character of Romanism in his "MoralTheology, " p. 186, in a lengthened discussion of the followingcharacteristic inquiry--"Quantum pro usu corporis sui juste exigatmulier?"--The reply is, "de meretrice et de femina honesta siveconjugata, ant non. "

_Fegeli_ wrote a book of "Practical Questions;" and on p. 397, isthe following--"Under what obligation is he who defiles a virgin?"--Theanswer is this--"Besides the obligation of penance, he incurs none; quiapuella habet jus usum sui corporis concedendi. "

_Trachala_ published a volume which he facetiously entitled the"Laver of Conscience;" and at p. 96, he presents us with this astoundingrecipe to purify the conscience--"An Concubinarius sit absolvendusantequam concubinam dimittat?" To which he replies--"Si ilia concubinasit valde bona et utilis economa, et sic nullam aliam possit habere, esset absolvendus. "

From the prior decisions, combined with numberless others which might beextracted from the works of the Romish authors, it is obvious, that theviolations of the seventh commandment, are scarcely enumerated by thePapal priesthood among venial sins. Especially if we consider thedefinition of a prostitute by the highest Popish authority: for in theDecretals, Distinction 34, in the Gloss, is found this savory adage--"Meretrix est quae, admiserit plures quam viginti tria hominum millia!"That is the infallible attestation to the truth of Maria Monk's "AwfulDisclosures. "

4. The antecedent narrative of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, is confirmed bythe universal and constant practice of Roman Priests in all Convents. Among the works of William Huntington, is a correspondence betweenhimself and a young lady who was converted by his ministry. The seventhletter from Miss M. Contains the following passage:--

_"It is a shame for women to approach those confessionals. _ If theywere never wise in scenes of iniquity before, the priest will instructthem, by asking the most filthy questions. I was confined to my bedthree days from my first confession; and thought I would never go again, being so abashed by the abominations he had put in my head. I would justas soon recommend scalding water to cure Anthony's-fire, or a wet bed inan ice-house to cure an ague, as recommend a sinner to those accursedlies, Roman penance, and Auricular Confession. "--The mental purity ofNuns consists in a life totally "contrary to the laws of God, ofmodesty, of decency. They are constantly exposed to the obsceneinterrogations, and the lewd actions of the Priests. Notwithstanding Godhas fixed a bar on every female mind, it is broken through by thePriests putting questions to them upon those subjects, as the scripturedeclares, which ought not to be named? The uncommon attractions of theyoung women in Convents generally indicate the greatest unchastity amongthem. I have known girls, sent for education to the Convent where I was, who regularly stripped themselves of every thing they could obtain fromtheir friends; which, by the artful insinuations of the Nuns, was givento them and the Priests. The Roman priesthood may well be called asorceress, and their doctrine 'the wine of fornication, ' for nothing butthe powers of darkness could work up the young female mind to receiveit; unless by the subtlety of the devil, and the vile artifices of theNuns. I shudder at the idea of young ladies going into a Convent; andalso at parents who send their children to be educated in a Nunnery;where their daughters are entrapped by the Nuns into the snare of thePriests, with whom they are accomplices, and for whom the most subtle ofthem are decoys, whose feigned sanctity is only a cover for the satanicarts of which they are complete mistresses, and by which, through thedelusions of the mother of harlots, being buried alive within the wallsof a Convent, they 'drink of the wine of her fornication, ' until theirsouls pass into the pit of destruction. "--The above extract is from theseventh letter of "Correspondence between Miss M. And Mr. H. " inHuntington's Works; and exposes the Nunneries in France. 

George D. Emeline, who had been a Popish Priest, in his "Eight Letters, "giving an account of his "Journey into Italy, " thus details the natureof the intimacy which then existed between the Priests and Nuns on theEuropean Continent. "A young Monk at Milan, Preacher to the BenedictineNuns, when he addressed them, added to almost every sentence in hisdiscourse, 'my most dear and lovely sisters, whom I love from thedeepest bottom of my heart. ' When a monk becomes Preacher or Chaplain toa Nunnery, his days are passed in constant voluptuousness; for the Nunswill gratify their Confessor in every thing, that he may be equallyindulgent to them. " Emeline's Letters, p. 313. 

"A regular Abbot of a Monastery in Italy, talking with me said--'Meliusest habere nullam quam aliquem--It is better to have none than anywoman. ' I asked him what he meant; he replied, 'Because, when a personis not tied to one, he may make use of many;' and his practice wasconformable to his doctrine; for he slept in the same bed with threeyoung women every night. He was a most insatiable Exactor and Oppressorof the people who rented the lands of the Abbey, in consequence of whichthe Farmers complained of him to the Archbishop of the District. TheArchbishop sent the Provost, the Farmers, and sixty of the serjeants atnight, to seize him and his female companions. They took the Abbot inbed, and having put on him a morning-gown; and having tied his threeconcubines and himself back to back, placed them in a cart, andconducted them to the Archbishop's residence, in Bonnonia: who thenrefused to judge him; but sent him and his females to the Monastery of_Saint_ Michael; into which, with some difficulty, he was admittedafter midnight, in consequence of the Provost assuring the Friars, thatif they would not receive the Abbot, they would procure his prelaticaldress, and escort him and the young women in procession through thecity, and back to his own Monastery the same day at noon. The femaleswere ordered away, and the Abbot was appointed to remain in hismonastery for fifteen days for penance, until the story had ceased tocirculate. I was an eyewitness of that myself, when I was in theMonastery of St. Michael in the wood. "--Emeline's Letters, pp. 387, 388, 389. 

That the Nunneries in Portugal, as well as among those people in Indiawho are subject to the Romish priesthood, are of the same characterprecisely, as Maria Monk describes the Priests and Nuns in Canada, isproved by Victorin de Faria, who had been a Brahman in India; and whoafterward resided as a regular Roman Priest in the Paulist Monastery atLisbon. 

"The regular Priests in India, " says Faria, "have become what the bonzeswhere in Japan. The Nuns were the disciples of Diana, and the nunneriesseraglios for the monks; as I have proved to be the case in Lisbon, byfacts concerning those nuns who were more often in the family way thancommon women. The Jesuits in the Indies made themselves Brahmans inorder to enjoy the privileges of that caste, whose idolatrous rites andsuperstitious practices they also externally adopted. "--Among otherprivileges which they possessed, Faria enumerates the following, asdetailed from his own prior experience as a Brahman. "Never to be put todeath for any crime whatever; and to enjoy the favours of every womanwho pleased them, for a Priest sanctifies the woman upon whom he bestowshis attentions. " That is the true Papist doctrine, as shown by MariaMonk's "Awful Disclosures;" confirmed by the Canadian carpenter in Mr. Johnson's house at Montreal; and ratified by Pope Gregory XIII. In theDecretals and Canons, in the Corpus Juris Canonici. Secrets of Nunneriesdisclosed by Scipio de Ricci. P. 217. 

The Nunneries in Italy during the present generation are of the samedescription. Maria Catharine Barni, Maria Magdalen Sicini, and VictoireBenedetti, of the Nunnery called Santa Croce: all acknowledged, thatthey had been seduced at confession, and that they had habituallymaintained criminal intercourse with a Priest called Pacchiani, whoabsolved his guilty companions after the commission of their crimes. Secrets of Nunneries disclosed by Scipio de Ricci. Pp. 60, 61. 

Six Nuns of the Convent of Catharine at Pistoia declared that thePriests who visited the Convent committed a "thousand indecorous acts. They utter the worst expressions, saying that we should look upon it asa great happiness, that we have the power of satisfying our appetiteswithout the annoyance of children; and that we should not hesitate totake our pleasures. Men, who have contrived to get the keys, come intothe Convent during the night, which they have spent in the mostdissipated manner. " That is the precise delineation of the CanadianNunneries; into which other men besides Priests are admitted, if theparties are willing to pay the entrance bribe to the Chaplain. --Secretsof Nunneries, by Scipio de Ricci. Pp. 80, 81. 

Flavia Perraccini, Prioress of the Nunnery of Catharine of Pistoia, revealed what she knew of that and other Nunneries. All the Priests "areof the same character. They all have the same maxims and the sameconduct. They are on more intimate terms with the nuns than if they weremarried to them. It is the same at Lucia, at Pisa, at Prato, and atPerugia. The Superiors do not know even the smallest part of theenormous wickedness that goes on between the Monks and the Nuns. "--Secrets of Nunneries, by Scipio de Ricci. P. 93. That statement is soexactly conformed to Maria Monk's "Awful Disclosures, " that were it nota fact that she had never seen Scipio de Ricci's work it might almost besupposed that some part of her narrative had been transcribed from it. 

Foggini of Rome, also wrote to Scipio de Ricci and informed him--"I knowa monastery in which a Jesuit used to make the Nuns lift up theirclothes, assuring them that they thereby performed an act of virtue, because they overcame a natural repugnance. "--Secrets of Nunneries, p. 101. That is a very extraordinary illustration of the turpitude of theRoman Priesthood; because that doctrine is a principle which theyconstantly inculcate; and such is the invariable practice in the HotelDieu Nunnery, that the Nuns were obliged to fulfil, for the beastlygratification of the Roman Priests who visited that house, which is "theway to hell, going down to the chambers of death. " Proverbs 7:27. 

It is superfluous to multiply similar extracts. Scipio de Ricci was aPopish prelate, regularly commissioned by the Grand Duke of Tuscany toexplore the Nunneries; and in consequence of his authentic developments, the Jesuits and Dominicans, and the dignified Papal ecclesiastics, withthe two Popes, Pius VI. And Pius VII. All opposed, reviled, condemnedand worried him almost to death. 

One quotation more shall close this survey. Pope Paul III. Maintained atRome, forty-five thousand courtesans. Pope Sixtus IV. Ordered a numberof edifices to be erected expressly for the accommodation of the semi-Nuns of Rome, from whose impurity he derived a large annual revenue, under the form of a license; besides which, the prices of absolution forthe different violations of the seventh commandment are as regularlyfixed as the value of beads, soul-masses, blessed water, and every otherarticle of Popish manufacture. Paolo, Hist. Council de Trent. Book I. Anno 1637. 

The preceding observations, it is believed, will remove the doubts fromthe mind of every impartial inquirer, respecting the credibility ofMaria Monk's narrative: nevertheless, a few additional remarks may notbe irrelevant: especially as there is a marvellous skepticism inreference to the admission of valid testimony concerning the Romanpriesthood, their system and practice. We are deafened with clamour forproof to substantiate Maria Monk's history: but that demand istantamount to the declaration--"I will not believe. "

In anticipation of speedy death, and an immediate appearance at thedread tribunal of Jehovah, Maria Monk communicated to Mr. Tappan, theChaplain at Bellevue, one of the benevolent institutions belonging tothe city of New York, the principal facts in her "Awful Disclosures. "After her unexpected recovery, she personally appeared at Montreal, expressly and openly, to promulge her allegations of atrocious crimesagainst the chief Roman Ecclesiastics in that city, who were armed withpower, and having nearly all the population her infuriated enemies. There she remained almost four weeks, constantly daring the RomanPriests and Nuns in vain. It is true, Dr. Robertson in his affidavitsays, that he was willing "to take the necessary steps for a fullinvestigation, if a direct charge were made against any particularindividual of a criminal nature. " Now if Maria Monk's charges are notdirect, OF A CRIMINAL NATURE, and against PARTICULAR INDIVIDUALS--whatcharges can be so characterized? The fact is this:--Dr. Robertson wouldno more dare to issue a warrant for the apprehension of Lartigue, or anyof the inferior Roman Priests in Montreal, than he would dare publiclyto strike the Commander of the Garrison, or the Governor of Canada uponmilitary parade. If any Papist had stated to him the same factsconcerning a Protestant, or Protestant Minister, and offered to confirmthem by his worthless oath, he would have issued his process at once;but Dr. Robertson knows, that in the present state of Canadian society, Roman Priests can do what they please; and no man dares to reprove, muchless to "take any necessary steps for a full investigation" for theircrimes. If the Jesuits and Nuns at Montreal are anxious for a full andimpartial scrutiny of the Hotel Dieu Convent, Maria Monk is ready tooblige them with some facilities for that object; provided she may carrythem out to all their extent and application. Mr. Ogden has oneaffidavit, and knows the whole matter; as can incontestably be proved byMr. A. P. Hart, an Attorney of Montreal; and we recommend Dr. Robertsonto issue his warrant for the apprehension of Lartigue, Bonin, Dufresne, and Richards, they are enough to begin with; and if Mr. Ogden will carrythe facts with which he is acquainted to the Grand Jury, one witness inNew York is ready to appear; and Dr. Robertson will find his hands fullof employment, if he will only "take the necessary steps" to procure twoor three persons who shall be pointed out to him in the Hotel DieuNunnery. Therefore, until Dr. Robertson commences some incipientmeasures as a Magistrate towards "the necessary steps for a fullinvestigation, " as he says, we shall be forced to believe, that theprinter made a mistake in his affidavit, and put willing for_unwilling_. 

The cavilling call, however, for additional evidence to be adduced byMaria Monk, is manifestly futile. That testimony is within thejurisdiction of the Priests alone who are criminated. Maria Monkreiterates her charge against the Romish Ecclesiastics of Canada andtheir Nuns; and she has solemnly sworn that they are true. What more canshe do? Nothing, but to _search the premises_, to see whether thestatements which she has made are correct. A Committee of the New YorkProtestant Association are willing to accompany her to Montreal; to walkthrough the Hotel Dieu Nunnery in company with any Gentlemen ofMontreal, and investigate the truth without favour or partiality, MariaMonk is willing to submit the whole affair to that short, and easy, andsensible test; in which there is no possibility of deception. It doesnot depend upon credibility of witnesses, conflicting evidence, personalfriendship, or religions prejudices; it is reduced at once to thatunerring criterion; _the sight and the touch!_

But, it is retorted, that will not be granted; then we repeat anotherproposal: let the Priest Conroy come forth girded in all the panoply ofthe Roman court, and appear as the champion of the Canadian Jesuits; lethim institute an action, civil or criminal, or both, against thepublishers of such atrocious crimes, which, as they pretend, are falselyalleged against the Roman Priests. If Lartigue and his Montreal inferiorpriests are implicated in the most nefarious felonies, Maria Monk haspublished him as a virtuous accomplice. Why does he not put her truth tothe test, by subjecting her to a criminal process? Why does he notcommence a suit against the Booksellers who published her "AwfulDisclosures?"--Ah! if Lartigue, Bonin, Dufresne, and Richards, withtheir brethren, Conroy, Phelan, Kelly and Quarter, were coerced to keepLent, and live only upon _soup-maigre_, until that day arrives, they would not much longer portray in their exterior, that they liveupon the fat of the land; but they would vociferously whine out--"Meaculpa! O mea grandis culpa! O mea grandissima culpa! Peccava! Peccavi!Peccavi!"

APPENDIX. 

RECEPTION OF THE FIRST EDITIONS. 

I have now reached the close of what appeared in my first editions. Someof my readers may feel a wish to know what has been said of me and mybook, by those whose characters or connexions it exposes. Differentpersons have expressed to me their fears that I should be kidnapped, stabbed or poisoned; but of this I have had but little apprehension. Others may suppose that the priests of Montreal, and some of those inNew York, against whom I have made different charges, may have appearedagainst me in ways of which they are ignorant, and have published facts, or used arguments of serious import, if not of decided force. For theinformation of my readers, I have determined, though at someinconvenience, to lay before them a fair view of what they have done. 

I was well convinced before the publication of my first book, that thepriests would do or say very little against me or my work; and severalpersons can testify, that I made declarations of this kind, withdistinctness, in their presence. The reasons I gave for this opinionwere these, --that they feared an investigation, and that they fearedfurther disclosures. They must desire to keep the public mind calm, anddiverted with other matters; and to avoid increasing my will. 

There were individuals, I was well aware, both in and _out_ of thenunnery, and Seminary, who, from the first notice of the appearance ofmy book, would be extremely disquieted, until they had ascertained theextent to which my developments reached. When they had read forthemselves, I well knew, they would enjoy a temporary relief, findingthat my "Disclosures" were not the most "awful" which they had reason toexpect. 

I also felt, that they would apprehend something further from me; andthat a dread of this would probably keep them quiet, or confine them togeneral denials of my story. And this has been the case, even to sogreat a degree, that the remark has been often repeated--how feeble istheir defence! Why did they not rather remain silent than do so little--that which is for them worse than nothing? The causes of this I couldassign. The world does not understand them all. 

Three principal grounds of opposition have been taken against me by myenemies--1st, That I had never been in the Hotel Dieu Nunnery: 2d, Thatmy character entitled me to no confidence; 3d, That my book was copied, "word for word, and letter for letter, " from an old European work, called "The Gates of Hell opened. " Besides these grounds, several othershave been attempted, but less seriously supported--such as that I wasderanged, or subject to occasional alienation of mind; and that I wasnot Maria Monk, but a counterfeit of a person by that name, still inCanada, and, as some said, in the Black Nunnery. 

With regard to the first of these grounds, I will here simply say, thatit has been, beyond controversy, the principal one, but has recentlybeen abandoned. The great object of the six affidavits, published inMontreal in November, 1835, and republished here soon after thepublication of my book, was to prove that I had never been a nun--noteven a novice. The reader may judge for himself, for those affidavitsare published in full in this volume, and they are the only ones whichhave been published against me. The reader will also see in an extractfrom the New York Catholic Diary of March last that that fact isadmitted; and by a later extract from it, that a Canadian priest whotakes the trouble to write from Sherbrooke, has no new testimony torefer to. 

As to my character, I never claimed the confidence of the Americanpeople, (as the Roman priests do, ) on a pretence of a peculiar holinessof life. That would have been unreasonable in a stranger, and especiallyone who had been in a nunnery. My first editions, as well as thepresent, bear witness that I appealed to the evidence of facts which noone could controvert if once produced--an examination of the interior ofmy late prison. Not a lisp has yet been heard of assent to myproposition. The Protestant Association have published a challenge, forseveral weeks, which is on another page among the extracts--but no onehas accepted it, and I will venture to say, no one will. 

My publishers, on seeing the assertion made by the editor of the Boston(Roman Catholic) Pilot, that my book was a mere copy from an oldEuropean work, called "The Gates of Hell opened, " published an offer of$100 for any book so resembling it--without success. If there be anyvolume on earth which contains the developments of any fugitive nun, whose case resembled my own, I should expect to merit such a title asthe above; and I should know how to excuse the author for using sostrong an expression, after struggling, as I have had to do, in givingmy own narrative, with those feelings which are so apt to arise in myheart at the recollection of scenes I have passed through. The openingof the Gates of Hell, whether in a European or a Canadian Convent, mayprobably disclose scenes very like to each other; but if there be anyresemblance between my book and any other in the world, I solemnlydeclare that it can be owing only to a resemblance between the thingsdescribed in both, as not a sentence has been copied from any bookwhatever, and I defy the editor of the Boston Pilot--(not to perjurehimself, as he gratuitously proposed--but to do what would be at oncemuch more difficult and satisfactory)--produce his book, or a singlepage of it. 

I have been charged with occasional alienation of mind--a very strongevidence, I should think, of my being a nun; for what eloped nun everescaped that charge? Like converted Roman Catholics, run-away nuns arecommonly pronounced to be out of their wits, or under the influence ofevil spirits, of course, on the ground that it is proved by the factitself. 

As to my being the real Maria Monk or not, I presume the testimony ofsome of my old school-mates, now in New York, will pass. To these, however, it cannot he necessary to resort, otherwise the Montrealaffidavits will be good for nothing. 

I will now proceed to give _the whole_ of the testimony which hasbeen brought out against me. A few remarks, necessary to acquaint thereader with the progress of things, will be given in their place. Nextto these will appear the testimony of several persons, who havevoluntarily presented themselves, since the publication of my firstedition, claimed acquaintance with me, and volunteered their testimony. I need not say how gratifying I have found such spontaneous marks ofkindness, from friends, whose reedy and unsolicited appearance is a realfavour to me, although chiefly due, as they declare, to their love oftruth and justice. 

Almost immediately after the appearance of my "Awful Disclosures, " thefollowing anonymous handbill was distributed through the city of NewYork. It was also published in the Catholic Diary, and other papers, with violent denunciations. 

"_Maria Monk! Villany Exposed. _

"_L'Amidu Peuple_, a Montreal paper, gives us the _denouement_of the tale of scandal which the _Protestant Vindicator_, ChristianHerald, _et id genus omne_, put forward a few months since, andwhich the Protestant Editors of three political journals in Montreal, atonce indignantly repelled without knowing its origin. Instead of aneloped Nun, recounting the horrors of the Convent, the heroine of thetale is a Protestant young girl, who has been for four years past underprotection of a Mr. Hoyte, once styled a Reverend Methodist Preacher, and connected with Canadian Sunday Schools. The paper quoted above, gives, at full length, the affidavits of the mother of the girl, who isalso a Protestant, and of several other individuals, who had no motiveto favour Catholic Institutions. The disconsolate mother testifies onoath that she had been solicited by the seducer of her child to swearthat she was a Nun, and that the father of the infant was a CatholicClergyman--that a promise had been made her of a comfortable provisionfor herself, and for her unfortunate child and offspring--if she wouldonly do that. The poor woman had virtue enough to reject the baseproposal; and thus, the Rev. Mr. Hoyte, who had returned from New Yorkfor this purpose, accompanied, it is stated, by the Rev. Mr. Brewsterand Judge Turner, failed in the object of his visit. 

"A Methodist Preacher of the place immediately disclaimed all connectionof the society with Mr. Hoyte, and in a letter, published in the papers, expressed his regret that any credit had been given to a foul charge, emanating from a source so polluted. "--_Catholic Herald_. 

The affidavits will be published as soon as they shall be received fromCanada. Maria Monk's Book, far from injuring the Catholic religion, willpromote it; for the publication is a real _disclosure_ of thewickedness and hypocrisy of its enemies, who dare to go as far as toconceal their own crimes, by calumniating those who never did any thingagainst them, and have never interfered with them. Probably the authorof this _pious book_ is a minister; and, what is more remarkable, not a single one of the ministers has opposed it, or cautioned thepeople against it, as it is their duty to do, the calumniators being oftheir own congregation. However, by holding a prayer-meeting, making_a few faces_, and giving a few affecting _turns_ to theirvoices, they certainly have already washed out the awful crime of thesecalumnies, because faith alone will save them, and they certainly havethe true faith, which shows itself by these true fruits of charity. Theyare the elect, and consequently, they are not like the Catholic Priests, who are all wicked. The reader may recollect the parable of the phariseeand the publican. 

 * * * * *

"Granting the truth of Maria Monk's story, will it not reveal theweakness of Protestant origin? Where would Protestantism be, were it notengendered and nursed by profligate Monks and Nuns? Yes, gentlemen, profligate Monks and Nuns have been your nursing Fathers and Mothers!The chaste spouse of the Redeemer could hold no fellowship with suchcharacters. She has flung them over the fences of the 'fold, ' happy tohave a sink into which to throw her filth. "

As soon as my first edition appeared, several of the newspapers of NewYork referred to the publication in terms of unqualified condemnation. Not content with giving my motives in producing it, without having seenme, they hesitated not to pronounce it utterly false, with as muchboldness as if they had really known something more of the matter thanthe public at large. A poor and injured female had disclosed to theircountrymen facts of deep interest to all; and they, without examination, perhaps without leaving their offices to make a single inquiry, didtheir utmost to decry me, and used terms which they cannot but regretsooner or later. 

Requests were immediately made to some of them to listen to evidence, which were not accepted. The editors of the Courier and Enquirer wererequested, in a note from the publishers, to mention in their paper whatparts of my book they intended to pronounce false, and what was theirevidence. But they took no notice of it, although desired to publish thenote. Many other editors were invited to publish communications orextracts, but most of them refused from the first, and all the paperswere soon closed against my cause. 

In the country, the newspapers generally, I believe, followed theexample set in this city, though in Albany, Boston, and one or two otherplaces, a solitary one or two appeared disposed to examine the subject. 

At length appeared the long-threatened Montreal affidavits, which arehere inserted. They were published in several Roman Catholic, and one ortwo Protestant papers in New York, with this introduction--

_"Maria Monk's 'Awful Disclosures. ' Villany exposed!!_

"Of all the curious pranks and fanatical schemes which the foes ofCatholicity have been playing for some years past, there is not one thatfills the mind with greater disgust than the scandalous tale given tothe public by Maria Monk and her wicked associate. 

"By the evidence which covers the following pages, the reader will seethe man himself clearly convinced of being a base calumniator, and arch-hypocrite. He, and his associate prostitute, will be seen, with brazenimpudence, attempting to fix on the virtuous Catholic Ladies andCatholic Priests of Montreal, the shameless character which belongs onlyto themselves. "

_From the Montreal Courier, _ Nov. 16, 1835. 

"The _New York Protestant Vindicator_ of the 4th November, reiterates its calumnies concerning the Roman Catholic Clergy and Nunsof this city. We cherished the hope that, after the simultaneous andunanimous expressions of disbelief and reprehension with which itsextravagant assertions had been met by the Canadian press, bothProtestant and Catholic, the conductors of that journal would have beenslow to repeat, without better evidence of their truth, the samedisgraceful charges. We have been deceived in our calculation. Thefanatical print demands _counter evidence_ before it will withdraw, or acknowledge the falsehood of its previous statements. We believe that_counter_ evidence has already been adduced, of a nature farsurpassing, in weight, the claims to credibility which the accusationsthemselves could offer. The impure fabrication trumped up by a woman ofimmoral character and insane mind, in conjunction with a man of equallydepraved habits, can never be weighed in the balance with the testimonyof Protestants, living in the same community as the accused, and, therefore, possessing the means of judging of the truth or falsehood ofwhat was advanced. By any persons of less interested credulity, and ofmore discriminating and moral honesty, than what the conductors of the_Protestant Vindicator_ appear to possess, counter evidence of theabove nature would have been deemed sufficient. 

"There are two reasons which have mainly weighed with us, to revert tothe subject of the _Protestant Vindicator's_ charges, and topublish the subjoined lengthy documents. We consider, in the firstplace, our endeavours to expose falsehood as a solemn duty we owe to thedefamed; and, in the second, we should regard ourselves to be degradedin the eyes of the world, did we live in a community where suchabominations, as are alleged, existed, and not dare, openly and loudly, to denounce the perpetrators. 

"Under these impressions, we proceed, at a considerable sacrifice of thespace of our journal, to lay before our readers the followingaffidavits, which will sufficiently disclose the nature of the_Protestant Vindicator's_ calumnies, their origin, and the degreeof credit which can be attached to them. "

(AFFIDAVIT OF DR. ROBERTSON. )

"William Robertson, of Montreal, Doctor in Medicine, being duly sworn onthe Holy Evangelists, deposeth and saith as follows:--On the 9th ofNovember, 1834, three men came up to my house, having a young female incompany with them, who, they said, was observed that forenoon, on thebank of the Canal, near the extremity of the St. Joseph Suburbs, actingin a manner which induced some people who saw her to think that sheintended to drown herself. They took her into a house in theneighbourhood, where, after being there some hours, and interrogated asto who she was, &c. , she said she was the daughter of Dr. Robertson. Onreceiving this information, they brought her to my house. Being fromhome when they came to the door, and learning from Mrs. Robertson thatshe had denied them, they conveyed her to the watch-house. Upon hearingthis story, in company with G. Auldjo, Esq. , of this city. I went to thewatch-house to inquire into the affair. We found the young female, whomI have since ascertained to be Maria Monk, daughter of W. Monk, of thiscity, in custody. She said, that although she was not my daughter, shewas the child of respectable parents, in or very near Montreal, who fromsome light conduct of hers, (arising from temporary insanity, to whichshe was at times subject from her infancy. ) had kept her confined andchained in a cellar for the last four years. Upon examination, no markor appearance indicated the wearing of manacles, or any other mode ofrestraint. She said, on my observing this, that her mother always tookcare to cover the irons with soft cloths to prevent them injuring theskin. From the appearance of her hands, [Footnote: Compare this with thelast sentence but one in the affidavit. Why does Dr. R. Not give namesof persons and their affidavits? It has not yet been done--April, 1836. ]she evidently had not been used to work. To remove her from the watch-house, where she was confined with some of the most profligate women ofthe town, taken up for inebriety and disorderly conduct in the streets, as she could not give a satisfactory account of herself, I as a Justiceof the Peace, sent her to jail as a vagrant. The following morning, Iwent to the jail for the purpose of ascertaining, if possible, who shewas. After considerable persuasion, she promised to divulge her story tothe Rev. H. Esson, one of the clergymen of the Church of Scotland, towhose congregation she said her parents belonged. That gentleman didcall at the jail, and ascertained who she was. In the course of a fewdays she was released, and I did not see her again until the month ofAugust last, when Mr. Johnston, of Griffintown, Joiner, and Mr. Cooley, of the St. Ann Suburbs, Merchant, called upon me, about ten o'clock atnight, and, after some prefatory remarks, mentioned that the object oftheir visit was, to ask me, as a magistrate, to institute an inquiryinto some very serious charges which had been made against some of theRoman Catholic Priests of that place, and the Nuns of the GeneralHospital, by a female, who had been a Nun in that Institution for fouryears, and who had divulged the horrible secrets of that establishment, such as the illicit and criminal intercourse between the Nuns and thePriests, stating particulars of such depravacy of conduct, on the partof these people, in this respect, and their murdering the offspring ofthese criminal connexions, as soon as they were born, to the number offrom thirty to forty every year. I instantly stated, that I did notbelieve a word of what they told me, and that they must have beenimposed upon by some evil-disposed and designing person. Upon inquirywho this Nun, their informant, was, I discovered that she answeredexactly the description of Maria Monk, whom I had so much trouble aboutlast year, and mentioned to these individuals my suspicion, and what Iknew of that unfortunate girl. Mr. Cooley said to Mr. Johnston, let usgo home, we are hoaxed. They told me that she was then at Mr. Johnston'shouse, and requested me to call there, and hear her own story. The nextday, or the day following, I did call, and saw Maria Monk, at Mr. Johnston's house. She repeated in my presence the substance of what wasmentioned to me before, relating to her having been in the Nunnery forfour years; having taken the black veil; the crimes committed there; anda variety of other circumstances concerning the Priests and Nuns. A Mr. Hoyte was introduced to me, and was present during the whole of the timethat I was in the house. He was represented as one of the persons whohad come from New York with this young woman, for the purpose ofinvestigating into this mysterious affair. I was asked to take herdeposition, on her oath, as to the truth of what she had stated. Ideclined doing so, giving as reason, that, from my knowledge of hercharacter, I considered her assertions upon oath were not entitled tomore credit than her bare assertion, and that I did not believe either:intimating, at the same time, my willingness to take the necessary stepsfor a full investigation, if they could get any other person tocorroborate any part of her solemn testimony, or if a direct charge wereto be made against any particular individual of a criminal nature. During the first interview with Messrs. Johnston and Cooley, theymentioned, that Maria Monk had been found in New York in a verydestitute situation by some charitable individuals, who administered toher necessities, being very sick. She expressed a wish to see aclergyman, as she had a dreadful secret which she wished to divulgebefore she died; a clergyman visiting her, she related to him thealleged crimes of the Priests and Nuns of the General Hospital atMontreal. After her recovery, she was visited and examined by the Mayorand some lawyers at New York, afterward at Troy, in the State of NewYork, on the subject; and I understood them to say, that Mr. Hoyte andtwo other gentlemen, one of them a lawyer, were sent to Montreal, forthe purpose of examining into the truth of the accusations thus made. Although incredulous as to the truth of Maria Monk's story, I thought itincumbent upon me to make some inquiry concerning it, and haveascertained where she had been residing a great part of the time shestates having been an inmate of the Nunnery. During the summer of 1832she was at service in William Henry's; the winters of 1823-3, she passedin this neighborhood, at St. Ours and St. Denis. The accounts given ofher conduct that season corroborate the opinions I had beforeentertained of her character. 

"W. ROBERTSON. 

"Sworn before me, Montreal, this 14th day of November, 1835. 

"BENJ. HOLMES, J. P. "

 * * * * *

(AFFIDAVIT OF MY MOTHER. )

"On this day, the twenty-fourth day of October, one thousand eighthundred and thirty-five, before me, William Robertson, one of hisMajesty's Justices of the Peace for the district of Montreal, came andappeared Isabella Mills, [Footnote: My mother's maiden name was Mills]of the city of Montreal, widow of the late William Monk, who declared, that wishing to guard the public against the deception which has latelybeen practised in Montreal by designing men, who have taken advantage ofthe occasional derangement of her daughter, to make scandalousaccusations against the Priests and the Nuns in Montreal, and afterwardto make her pass herself for a nun, who had left the Convent. And afterhaving made oath on the holy evangelists, (to say the truth) the saidIsabella Mills declares and says, a man decently dressed (whom afterwardI knew to be W. R. Hoyte. Stating himself to be a minister of New York, )came to my house on or about the middle of August last, and inquired forone Mr. Mills; that Mr. Esson, a minister here, had told him I couldgive him some information about that man; I replied that I knew no oneof that name in Montreal, but that I had a brother of that name fivemiles out of town. He then told me that he had lately come to Montreal, with a young woman and child of five weeks old; that the woman hadabsconded from him at Goodenough's tavern, where they were lodging, andleft him with the child; he gave me a description of the woman: Iunfortunately discovered that the description answered my daughter, andthe reflection that this stranger had called upon Mr. Esson, our pastor, and inquiring for my brother, I suspected that this was planned: I askedfor the child, and said that I would place it in a nunnery: to that Mr. Hoyte started every objection, in abusive language against the nuns. Atlast he consented to give me the child, provided I would give my writingthat it should be presented when demanded. We left the house together, Mr. Hoyte requested me to walk at a distance from him, as he was agentleman. I followed him to Mr. Goodenough's Hotel, and he directed meto room No. 17, and to demand the child; a servant maid gave it to me;Mr. Hoyte came up, and gave me the clothing. I came home with the child, and sent Mrs. Tarbert, an old acquaintance, in search of my daughter;her disposition will be seen. The next day, Mr. Hoyte came in with anelderly man, Dr. Judge Turner, decently dressed, whom he introduced tome as a Mr. Turner, of St. Alban's. They demanded to see the child, which I produced. Mr. Hoyte demanded if I had discovered the mother; Isaid not. She must be found, said he; she has taken away a shawl and abonnet belonging to a servant girl at Goodenough's; he would not pay forthem; she had cost him too much already; that, his things were kept atthe hotel on that account. Being afraid that this might more deeplyinvolve my daughter, I offered my own shawl to replace the one taken;Mr. Hoyte first took it but afterward returned it to me on my promisethat I would pay for the shawl and bonnet. In the course of the day, Mrs. Tarbert found my daughter, but she would not come to my house; shesent the bonnet and shawl, which were returned to their owner, who hadlent them to my daughter, to assist her in procuring her escape from Mr. Hoyte at the hotel. Early on the afternoon of the same day, Mr. Hoytecame to my house with the same old man, wishing me to make all myefforts to find the girl, in the meantime speaking very bitterly againstthe Catholics, the Priests, and the Nuns; mentioning that my daughterhad been in the nunnery, where she had been ill treated. I denied thatmy daughter had ever been in a nunnery; that when she was about eightyears of age, she went to a day-school. At that time came in two otherpersons, whom Mr. Hoyte introduced; one was Rev. Mr. Brewster, I do notrecollect the other reverence's name. They all requested me, in the mostpressing terms, to try to make it out; my daughter had been in thenunnery; and that she had some connection with the Priests of theseminary, of which nunneries and Priests she spoke in the mostoutrageous terms; said, that should I make that out, myself, mydaughter, and child, would be protected for life. I expected to get ridof their importunities, in relating the melancholy circumstances bywhich my daughter was frequently deranged in her head, and told them, that when at the age of about seven years, she broke a slate pencil inher head; that since that time her mental faculties were deranged, andby times much more than at other times, but that she was far from beingan idiot; that she could make the most ridiculous, but most plausiblestories; and that as to the history that she had been in a nunnery, itwas a fabrication, for she never was in a nunnery; that at one time Iwished to obtain a place in a nunnery for her; that I had employed theinfluence of Mrs. De Montenach, of Dr. Nelson, and of our pastor, theRev. Mr. Esson, but without success. I told them notwithstanding I was aProtestant and did not like the Catholic religion--like all otherrespectable Protestants, I held the priests of the seminary and the nunsof Montreal in veneration, as the most pious and charitable persons Iever knew. After many more solicitations to the same effect, three ofthem retired, but Mr. Hoyte remained, adding to the other solicitations;he was stopped, a person having rapped at the door; it was thencandlelight. I opened the door, and found Doctor McDonald, who told methat my daughter Maria was at his house, in the most distressingsituation; that she wished him to come and make her peace with me; Iwent with the Doctor to his house in M'Gill-street; she came with me tonear my house, but would not come in, notwithstanding I assured her thatshe would be kindly treated, and that I would give her her child; shecrossed the parade ground, and I went into the house, and returned forher. --Mr. Hoyte followed me. She was leaning on the west railing of theparade; we went to her: Mr. Hoyte told her, my dear Mary, I am sorry youhave treated yourself and me in this manner; I hope you have not exposedwhat has passed between us, nevertheless; I will treat you the same asever, and spoke to her in the most affectionate terms; took her in hisarms; she at first spoke to him very cross, and refused to go with him, but at last consented and went with him, absolutely refusing to come tomy house. Soon after, Mr. Hoyte came and demanded the child; I gave itto him. Next morning Mr. Hoyte returned, and was more pressing than inhis former solicitation, and requested me to say that my daughter hadbeen in the nunnery: that should I say so, it would be better than onehundred pounds to me; that I would be protected for life, and that Ishould leave Montreal, and that I would be better provided forelsewhere; I answered, that thousands of pounds would not induce me toperjure myself; then he got saucy and abusive to the utmost; he said hecame to Montreal to detect the infamy of the Priests and the Nuns; thathe could not leave my daughter destitute in the wide world as I haddone: afterward said, No! she is not your daughter, she is too sensiblefor that, and went away--He was gone but a few minutes, when Mr. Doucet, an ancient Magistrate in Montreal, entered. That gentleman told me thatMr. Goodenough had just now called upon him, and requested him to let meknow that I had a daughter in Montreal; that she had come in with a Mr. Hoyte and a child, and that she had left Mr. Hoyte and the child, butthat she was still in Montreal, so as to enable me to look for her, andthat I might prevent some mischief that was going on. Then I related tohim partly what I have above said. When he was going, two othergentlemen came. I refused to give them any information at first, expecting that they were of the party that had so much agitated me for afew days; but being informed by Mr. Doucet, that he knew one of them, particularly Mr. Perkins, for a respectable citizen for a long time inMontreal, and the other Mr. Curry, two ministers from the United States, that if they came to obtain some information about the distressingevents she related to have occurred in her family, he thought it woulddo no harm, and I related it to them: they appeared to be afflicted withsuch a circumstance; I have not seen them any more. I asked Mr. Doucetif the man Hoyte could not be put in jail; he replied that he thoughtnot, for what he knew of the business. Then I asked if the Priests wereinformed of what was going on; he replied, yes, but they never take upthese things; they allow their character to defend itself. A few daysafter, I heard that my daughter was at one Mr. Johnson's, a joiner, atGriffintown, with Mr. Hoyte; that he passed her for a nun that hadescaped from the Hotel Dieu Nunnery. I went there two days successivelywith Mrs. Tarbert; the first day, Mrs. Johnson denied her, and said thatshe was gone to New York with Mr. Hoyte. As I was returning, I met Mr. Hoyte on the wharf, and I reproached him for his conduct. I told himthat my daughter had been denied me at Johnson's, but that I would havea search-warrant to have her; when I returned, he had really gone withmy unfortunate daughter; and I received from Mr. Johnson, his wife and anumber of persons in their house, the grossest abuse, mixed with textsof the Gospel, Mr. Johnson bringing a Bible for me to swear on. Iretired more deeply afflicted than ever, and further sayeth not. 

"Sworn before me, this 24th of October, 1835. "

 * * * * *

(AFFIDAVIT OF NANCY M'GAN. )

"_Province of Lower Canada, District of Montreal. _

"Before me, William Robertson, one of His Majesty's Justices of thePeace, for the District of Montreal, came and appeared Nancy M'Gan, ofMontreal, wife of James Tarbert, who has requested me to receive thisaffidavit, and declared that she had been intimately acquainted withMrs. (widow) Monk, of Montreal, a Protestant woman. I know the saidMaria Monk; last spring she told me that the father of the child shethen was carrying, was burned in Mr. Owsten's house. She often went awayin the country, and at the request of her mother I accompanied heracross the river. Last summer she came back to my lodgings, and told methat she had made out the father of the child; and that very night leftme and went away. The next morning I found that she was in a house ofbad fame, where I went for her, and told the woman keeping that house, that she ought not to allow that girl to remain there, for she was agirl of good and honest family. Maria Monk then told me that she wouldnot go to him (alluding, as I understood, to the father of the child), for that he wanted her to swear an oath that would lose her soul forever, but jestingly said, should make her a lady for ever. I then toldher (Maria), do not lose your soul for money. She told me she hadswapped her silk gown in the house where I had found her, for a calicoone, and got some money to boot; having previously told me if she hadsome money she would go away, and would not go near him any more. Soonafter, Mr. Hoyte and another gentleman came. Mr. Hoyte asked me whereshe had slept the night previous, and that he would go for the silkgown; the woman showed the gown, and told him that if he would pay threedollars he should have the gown; he went away, and came back with MariaMonk, paid the three dollars and got the gown; I was then present. 

"Being at Mrs. Monk's, I saw a child which she mentioned to be herdaughter Maria's child. Some time after, Mrs. Monk requested me toaccompany her to Griffintown, to look for her daughter. We went, to Mr. Johnson's house, a joiner in that suburb: we met Mr. Hoyte and he spoketo Mrs. Monk; when at Mr. Johnson's, Mrs. Manly asked for her daughter;Mrs. Johnson said she was not there. I saw Mr. Hoyte at Mrs. Monk's; hewas in company with three other persons, apparently Americans, earnestlyengaged in conversation, but so much confused I could not make out whatwas said; and farther sayeth not. "

"Her

"NANCY + M'GAN. 

"mark. 

"Sworn before me, on this 24th October, 1835. 

"W. ROBERTSON, J. P. "

 * * * * *

(AFFIDAVIT OF ASA GOODENOUGH. )

_"Province of Lower Canada, District of Montreal. _

"Before me, William Robertson, one of his Majesty's Justices of thePeace, for the District of Montreal, appeared Asa Goodenough, ofMontreal, holder of the Exchange Coffee House, who, after having madeoath upon the Holy Evangelists, declareth and sayeth, that on or aboutthe nineteenth of August last, two gentlemen and a young female with achild, put up at the Exchange Coffee House, of which I am the owner;they were entered in the book, one under the name of Judge Turner, theother as Mr. Hoyte, a Methodist preacher, and agent or superintendentfor the establishment of Sunday-schools, &c. 

"Being informed by Catherine Conners, a confidential servant, thatsomething mysterious was passing amongst the above-named, which led meto call on them for an explanation, they answered in a veryunsatisfactory manner. I afterward learned that the name of the youngwoman was Maria Monk, that her mother lived in town, that she was notmarried to Mr. Hoyte, and they came to Montreal with the view, as Mr. Hoyte said, to disclose the infamy of the Priests, whilst she was at theNunnery. I thought it prudent to give information of this to amagistrate. Seeing Mr. Doucet's name on the list, I went to him, andrequested him to give information to the mother of the young woman, ofthe circumstances in which her daughter was. He did so, and thedisclosure of the design of Mr. Hoyte was the consequence. 

"Montreal. 

"ASA GOODENOUGH. "

 * * * * *

"The following affidavits have been translated from the _L'Ami duPeuple, _ Montreal, Nov. 7, 1835. "

(AFFIDAVIT OF CATHARINE CONNERS. )

_"Province of Lower Canada, District of Montreal. _

"Before me, W. Robertson, one of His Majesty's Justices of the Peace forthe District of Montreal, appeared Catherine Conners of Montreal, aservant in the hotel of Mr. Goodenough, in the city of Montreal; shehaving made oath on the Holy Evangelists, to say the truth and nothingbut the truth, declared and said what follows:

"Towards the 19th of August last, two men and a woman came to the_Exchange Coffee House_; their names were written in the book, oneby the name of Judge Turner, and the other as Mr. Hoyte; the name of thewoman was not written in the book, in which the names of travellers arewritten, because I was informed that they were taking a single room withtwo beds. Some time after another room was given to them for theiraccommodation; the woman passed for the wife of Mr. Hoyte. 

"The day following, when I was making the bed, I found the woman intears; having made the remark to her that her child was a very youngtraveller, she replied that she had not the power to dispense with thejourney, for they travelled on business of importance; she also saidthat she had never had a day of happiness since she had left Montreal, which was four years, with Mr. Hoyte; she expressed a wish to go and seeher father. She entreated me to try and procure secretly clothes forher, for Mr. Hoyte wished to dine with her in his own room, in which hewas then taking care of the child. I gave her my shawl and bonnet, andconducted her secretly out by the street St Pierre; she never returned, and left the child in the hands of Mr. Hoyte. She said that her_husband_ was a Methodist preacher, and agent of the Sunday Schoolfor Montreal, in which he had resided four months last winter; but shehad not then been with him. When I returned to the room, Mr. Hoyte wasstill taking care of the child; be asked me if I had seen _hislady_; I said no. Upon this question he told me that the father of_his lady_ was dead, that her mother yet lived in the suburbs ofQuebec, and he asked me for all the clothes which I had given to washfor him, _his lady_ and child; clothes the _lady_ had takenfrom the only portmanteau which they had. Beyond that, I perceivednothing remarkable, except that Mr. Hoyte wished to conceal this woman, and to prevent her from going out. I heard the judge say to him, 'nowshe is yours. ' Sworn before me the 2d November, 1835. 

(Signed) "W. ROBERTSON. "

Mary McCaffrey, also a chambermaid in the hotel of Mr. Goodenough, corroborates the preceding deposition. 

(Signed) "W. ROBERTSON. "

 * * * * *

(AFFIDAVIT OF HENRY M'DONALD. )

_"Province of Lower Canada, District of Montreal. _

"Before me, W. Robertson, one of His Majesty's Justices of the Peace, for the District of Montreal, appeared Henry M'Donald, physician, who, after taking an oath on the Holy Evangelists to say the truth, declared, that in the month of August last, at seven o'clock in the evening, ayoung woman called at his house with all the symptoms of anextraordinary agitation, and in great distress. She asked hisprofessional advice, complaining of great pains in the breast. Onquestioning her, he learned that she had a young child, which she saidwas at Mr. Goodenough's, and that this child was taken away from her. She said that the father of the child was a Methodist Minister, andgeneral agent of the Sunday-Schools. She told me his name, but I cannotrecollect it. She told me that now and then her intellectual facultieswere weakened in such a manner that she could not support herself. Shetold me that she would be under great obligation to me, if I would go toher mother's house, and get her child, and procure lodgings for her;that she was without means, and did not know where to go. She could notremain with her mother, because she felt that her conduct had disgracedher family. I went in quest of Mrs. Monk, her mother; she had just comein quest of her daughter, and they went away together from my house. 

(Signed) "HENRY M'DONALD. "

"Sworn before me the 2d November, 1835. 

(Signed) "W. ROBERTSON. "

 * * * * *

(AFFIDAVIT OF MATTHEW RICHEY. )

_To the Editor of the Montreal Morning Courier. _

Sir, --Among the affidavits published in your paper of to-day, relatingto Mr. Hoyte and Maria Monk, I observe a deposition by Mr. Goodenough, that when Mr. Hoyte, in the month of August last, put up at the ExchangeCoffee-house, he was entered on the book as a _Methodist Preacher, andAgent or Superintendant of Sunday Schools_, &c. It has, however, beenascertained, from an examination of the book referred too, that noofficial designation is appended in it to Mr. Hoyte's name. Thisdiscrepancy, Mr. Goodenough states, took place entirely through mistake, and he did not know that Mr. Hoyte was thus characterized in hisaffidavit till he saw it in print. But as a similar mistake has foundits way into several of the depositions which have been elicited by thisunhappy affair, I deem it incumbent upon me, as a regularly appointedMethodist Minister of this city, to declare that Mr. Hoyte has never hadany connexion with the Methodist Society, either as a preacher or as anagent for Sunday Schools; and I would, at the same time, express mysurprise and regret, that the _New York Protestant Vindicator_should have taken up, and industriously circulated, charges of so gravea nature against the Priests and Nuns of this city, derived from sopolluted a source. From such a species of _vindication_, no causecan receive either honour or credit. By giving this publicity, you willconfer a favour on yours, respectfully, "MATTHEW RICHEY, _Wesleyan Minister_. "

"Montreal, Nov. 16, 1835. 

 * * * * *

"Although we could produce several other affidavits, of an equallyunimpeachable character as the above, yet we deem the evidence advancedmore than enough to show the entire, falsehood and extravagance of thefabrications in the _Protestant Vindicator_. "

 * * * * *

Here closes all the testimony that has been published or brought againstme. It requires the suppression of my feelings to repeat to the worldcharges against myself and my companions, so unfounded, and painful toevery virtuous reader. But I [illegible] to the truth to substantiate mynarrative, and prefer that everything should be fairly laid before theworld. That my opponents had nothing further to produce against me atthat time, is proved by the following remark by the Editor of the NewYork Catholic Diary, to be found in very paper in which he published thepreceding affidavits:--

_"Here, then, is the whole!"_

In a N. Y. Catholic Diary of March last, is a letter from FatherMcMahon, a Missionary, dated at Sherbrooke, in Canada, in which, as willbe seen by the extracts given beyond, he does not even allude to anyother testimony than this. Of course my readers will allow that I havereason to say--"Here, then, is the whole!"

The following extracts are given for several reasons. 1st. To prove, bythe admission of my adversaries themselves, that no new testimony hasbeen produced since the publication of the Montreal affidavits. 2d. Thatno disposition is shown to bring the truth to the only fair test--theopening of the Nunnery. 3d. That they are inconsistent in severalrespects, as, while they pretend to leave the characters of the priestsand nuns to defend themselves, they labour with great zeal and acrimonyto quiet public suspicion, and to discredit my testimony. 4th. Anotherobject in giving these extracts is, to show a specimen of the style ofmost of the Roman Catholic writers against me. In respect to argument, temper, and scarcity of facts, Father McMahon is on a level with theeditors of the Diary and Green Banner, judging from such of their papersas I have seen. 

 * * * * *

_From Father McMahon's Letter to the editor of the N. Y. CatholicDiary of March, 1836. _

"The silence by which you indulge the latent springs of a mal-propense, so far from being an argument for culpability, is based upon thecharitableness of a conscious innocence, and is, therefore, highlycommendable. I say it is highly commendable, inasmuch as these worthyand respectable characters do not deign to answer falsehood, or turntheir attention from their sacred avocations by effectually repellingallegations which all men, women, and children, able to articulate asyllable, in the city of Montreal, have repeatedly pronounced to beutterly false, detestably false, and abominably scandalous. 

 * * * * *

"May I now call upon you, honest Americans, who, though you may differfrom me in doctrinal points of religion, have, I trust, the due regardfor truth and charity towards all mankind; and into whose hand thatinstrument of Satan's emissaries may fall, before you believe onesyllable [illegible] attentively to peruse the following_facts_, which are [illegible] men of learning, of everypersuasion, and in every country, and which you will find, by matureinvestigation, to serve as a sufficient key to discover the wickedfalsehoods, circulated by the enemies of truth, in the work called, 'TheDisclosures of Maria Monk, ' but which, in consequence of the totalabsence of truth from the things therein contained, I have termed (and Ithink justly on that account), the devil's prayer-book. I beseech you togive my statements a fair, but impartial trial, weigh correctly thearguments opposed to them, according to your judgment--do not allowyourselves to be gulled by the empty or unmeaning phraseology of some ofyour bloated, though temperate, preachers. All I ask for the test of thefollowing statement, is simply and solely the exercise of your commonsense, without equivocation. 1st. I distinctly and unequivocally state, that the impugners of the Catholic religion and its doctrines, neverdared to meet us in the fair field of argument. Never yet have theyentered the lists in an eristical encounter, but to their cost. Why so?because we have reason, religion, and the impenetrable shield of truesyllogistic argumentation in our favour. Witness, in support of theassertion, the stupid and besotted crew (pardon me for this expression, and find a proper term yourselves, for the politico-TheologicalCharlatans of England), who, not daring to encounter the CatholicHierarchy of Ireland, in an honorable religious disputation, are forcedto drag to their assistance those very apostates from Catholicity whowere considered by their superiors unworthy of the situation theyattempted to hold in that Church; for the purpose of propping up thestaggering and debauched harlot, whose grave they are now preparing. Only remark how they are obliged to have recourse to the explodedscholastic opinion of Peter Dens, by way of showing the intolerance ofthe Catholics, who repudiate the doctrine of religious intolerance. Maryland, Bavaria, and the Cantons of Switzerland, prove the contrary bytheir universal religious toleration. Now I could mention, if I thoughtI had space enough on this sheet, numbers of Protestant divines, who, intheir writings, have strongly inculcated the absurd doctrines of rulingour consciences by the authority of the Civil Magistrates. See then, howstrange it is that they seek to condemn us for doctrines which we abhor, and which they practice, even to this day. Mark that for an argumentagainst our doctrines. 

"2dly. I assert, that notwithstanding all the persecutions, all thefalsehood and defamation daily exercised against the Catholics and theirreligion, they are at this moment the only people on the face of theearth, who maintain amongst them the unity of the true faith, and theregular succession in the Ministry, from Christ and his Apostles. 

"3dly. I assert, that the late scandalous production against the CatholicClergy of Montreal and the Catholic institutions there, is a tissue offalse, foul, designing, and scandalous misrepresentation. 1st. Becauseupon strict examination into all its bearings, it has been so provedupon the solemn oaths of a magistrate and others concerned. 2dly. Because it is no way consonant to reason or common sense to say thatthose living at a considerable distance, and avowedly hostile to theCatholics and their religion, should feel so interested in the matter?as the Catholics themselves, who are vitally concerned, and who hadevery facility of discovering any impropriety; who are zealous of thepurity of their religion and its Ministers. 3dly. Because the loud cryof all the inhabitants of every denomination, from the well-knownintegrity, the extraordinary piety, the singular charity and devotednessof the Catholic Clergy, came in peals of just wrath and well-meritedindignation on the heads of the degenerate monsters who basely, butineffectually, attempted to murder the unsullied fame of those whom theydeservedly held, and will hold, in the highest estimation. 

"T. B. McMahon, _Missionary_. "

Now this letter alludes to testimony legally given, as substantiatingthe charges against me. What testimony is intended? Any new testimony?If so, where, and what is it? I never heard of any, of any description, except what I have inserted on the preceding pages, unless I except theviolent, unsupported, and inconsistent assertion in newspapers, beforealluded to. Has any testimony, legally given, been produced, whichneither the Catholic Diary, nor any other Catholic paper, has eitherinserted or alluded to? No. The Missionary, McMahon, must refer to theMontreal affidavits; and since he has expressed his opinion in relationto their credibility and weight, I request my readers to form their ownopinions, as I have put the means in their power. 

It may, perhaps, appear to some, an act displaying uncommon"_concern_" in my affairs, or those of the Convent, for FatherMcMahon to take the pains to write on the subject from Canada. I knowmore of him and his concerns than the public do; and I am glad that mybook has reached him. Happy would it have been for him, if he couldprove that he did not leave Sherbrooke from the day when I took theBlack veil, until the day when I cast it off. There are many able tobear witness against him in that institution (if they have not beenremoved), and one out of it, who could easily silence him, bydisclosures that he has too much reason to apprehend. 

But to return--I assure my readers, then, that this book contains allthe testimony that has been brought against me, so far as I canascertain. 

The extensive publication of the Montreal affidavits (for they appearedin the Roman Catholic papers, and were circulated, it is believed, verygenerally through New York), for a time, almost entirely closed thenewspapers against me. My publishers addressed the following letter tothe, editor of the N. Y. Catholic Diary, and waited on him with a thirdperson, to request its publication in his next paper, but he declined. He expressed doubts of my being in the city, and intimated a wish to seeme; but when they acceded, he refused to meet me anywhere but _at hisown residence!_

The same letter was then offered to other editors in New York, and evensent to Philadelphia for publication, but refused. It appeared on the29th of February, in the Brooklyn Star, thus introduced:--

_Extracts from the Long Island Star of Feb. 29th. _

"Since the publication of our last paper, we have received acommunication from Messrs. Howe and Bates, of New York, the publishersof Miss Monk's 'Awful Disclosures. ' It appears that some influences havebeen at work in that city, adverse to the free examination of the casebetween her and the priests of Canada; for thus far the news papers havebeen almost entirely closed against every thing in her defence, whilemost of them have published false charges against the book, some of apreposterous nature, the contradiction of which is plain and palpable. 

"Returning to New York, she then first resolved to publish her story, which she has recently done, after several intelligent and disinterestedpersons had satisfied themselves by much examination that it was_true_. 

"When it became known in Canada that this was her intention, sixaffidavits were published in some of the newspapers, intended to destroyconfidence in her character; but these were found very contradictory inseveral important points, and others to afford undersigned confirmationof statements before made by her. 

"On the publication of her book, the New York Catholic Diary, the TruthTeller, the Green Banner, and other papers, made virulent attacks uponit, and one of them proposed that the publishers should be 'Lynched. ' Ananonymous handbill was also circulated in New York, declaring the work amalignant libel, got up by Protestant clergymen, and promising an amplerefutation of it in a few days. This was re-published in the CatholicDiary, &c. With the old Montreal affidavits which latter were alsodistributed through New York and Brooklyn; and on the authority ofthese, several Protestant newspapers denounced the work as false andmalicious. 

"Another charge, quite inconsistent with the rest, was also made, notonly by the leading Roman Catholic papers, but by several others atsecond hand--viz. That it was a mere copy of an old European work. Thishas been promptly denied by the publishers, with the offer of $100reward for any book at all resembling it. 

"Yet, such is the resolution of some and the unbelief of others, that itis impossible for the publishers to obtain insertion for their repliesin the New York papers generally, and they have been unsuccessful in anattempt in Philadelphia. 

"This is the ground on which the following article has been offered tous for publication in the Star. It was offered to Mr. Schneller, a Romanpriest, and editor of the Catholic Diary, for insertion in his paper ofSaturday before last, but refused, although written expressly as ananswer to the affidavits and charges his previous number had contained. This article has also been refused insertion in a Philadelphia dailypaper, after it had been satisfactorily ascertained that there was nohope of gaining admission for it into any of the New York papers. 

"It should be stated, in addition, that the authoress of the book, MariaMonk, is in New York, and stands ready to answer any questions, andsubmit to any inquiries, put in a proper manner, and desires nothing sostrongly as an opportunity to prove before a court the truth of herstory. She has already found several persons of respectability who haveconfirmed some of the facts, important and likely to be attested byconcurrent evidence; and much testimony in her favour may be soonexpected by the public. 

"With these facts before them, intelligent readers will judge forthemselves. She asks for investigation, while her opponents deny herevery opportunity to meet the charges made against her. Mr. Schneller, after expressing a wish to see her, to the publishers, refused tomeet her anywhere, _unless in his own house;_ while Mr. Quarter, another Roman Catholic priest, called to see her, at ten o'clock, onenight, accompanied by another man, without giving their names, and underthe false pretence of being bearers of a letter from her brother inMontreal. "

 * * * * *

_Reply to the Montreal Affidavits, refused publication by the CatholicDiary &c. _

"To the Editor of the Catholic Diary. 

"SIR--In your paper of last Saturday, you published six affidavits fromMontreal, which are calculated, so far as they are believed, todiscredit the truth of the 'Awful Disclosures' of Maria Monk, a book ofwhich we are the publishers. We address the following remarks to you, with a request that you will publish them in the Catholic Diary, thatyour readers may have the means of judging for themselves. If the casebe so plain a one as you seem to suppose, they will doubtless perceivemore plainly the bearing and force of the evidence you present, whenthey see it brought into collision with that which it is designed tooverthrow. 

"First, We have to remark, that the affidavits which you publish mighthave been furnished you in this city, without the trouble or delay ofsending to Montreal. They have been here two or three months, and werecarefully examined about that period by persons who are acquainted withMaria Monk's story, and were desirous of ascertaining the truth. Afterobtaining further evidence from Canada these affidavits were decided tocontain strong confirmation of various points in her story, then alreadywritten down, only part of which has yet been published. 

"Second. It is remarkable that of these six affidavits, the first isthat of Dr. Robinson, and all the rest are signed by him as Justice ofthe Peace; and a Justice, too, who had previously refused to take theaffidavit of Maria Monk. Yet, unknown to himself, this same Dr. R. , byincidents of his own stating, corroborates some very important parts ofMiss Monk's statements. He says, indeed, that he has ascertained whereshe was part of the time when she professed to have been in the Nunnery. But his _evidence_ on this point is merely hearsay, and he does noteven favour us with that. 

"Third, One of the affidavits is that of Miss Monk's mother, who claimsto be a Protestant, and yet declares, that she proposed to send herinfant grandchild to a Nunnery! She says her daughter has long beensubject to fits of insanity, (of which, however, we can say no tracesare discoverable in New York, ) and has never been in a Nunnery since shewas at school in one, while quite a child. She however does not mentionwhere her daughter has spent any part of the most important years of herlife. A large part of her affidavit, as well as several others, is takenup with matter relating to one of the persons who accompanied Miss M. ToMontreal last summer, and has no claim to be regarded as direct evidencefor or against the authenticity of her book. 

"Fourth, The affidavit of Nancy McGan is signed with a cross, as by oneignorant of writing; and she states that she visited a house of illfame, (to all appearance alone, ) although, as she asserts, to bring awayMiss M. Her testimony, therefore, does not present the strongest claimsto our confidence. Besides, it is known that she has shown greathostility, to Miss Monk, in the streets of Montreal: and she would not, it is believed, have had much influence on an intelligent court or jury, against Miss M. , in that city, if the latter had been fortunate enoughto obtain the legal investigation into her charges, which as Dr. R. Mentions, she declared to be the express object of her visit to thatcity, in the last summer, and in which she failed, after nearly amonth's exertion. 

"Fifth, The affidavit of Mr. Goodenough is contradicted in one point bythe letter of Mr. Richey, a Wesleyan minister, which you insert, andcontains little else of any importance to this or any other case. * * * *

"Sixth, You copied in a conspicuous manner, from a Catholic paper inBoston, a charge against the book, the groundlessness of which has beenexposed in some of the New York papers, viz. That large parts of itwere, 'word for word and letter for letter. ' (names only altered, )copied from a book published some years ago in Europe, under the titleof 'The Gates of Hell opened. ' We have not seen in your paper anycorrection of this aspersion, although the assertion of it has placedyou in a dilemma; for, if such were the fact, as you asserted, theMontreal affidavits would have little application to the case. Besides, that book, having proceeded from Catholics, and relating, as wasintimated, to scenes in European Convents, divulged by witnesses notchargeable with prejudices against them, is to be taken for true withother names; and therefore the charge of extravagance or improbability, which is so much urged against our book, is entirely nullified, withoutappealing to other sources of information which cannot be objected to. 

"But before closing, allow us to remark, that you, who claim so stronglythe confidence of your readers in the testimony of witnesses inMontreal, who speak only of things collateral to the main subject inquestion, must be prepared to lay extraordinary weight on evidence of ahigher nature, and must realize something of the anxiety with which we, and the American public generally, we believe, stand ready to receivethe evidence to be displayed to the eye and to the touch, either for oragainst the solemn declaration of Miss Monk, whenever the great testshall be applied to which she appeals, viz. The opening of the HotelDieu Nunnery at Montreal. Then, sir, and not till then, will the greatquestion be settled, --Is our book true or false? Affidavits may possiblybe multiplied, although you say, 'Here, then, is the whole!' Dr. Robertson may be called again to testify, or receive testimony asJustice of the Peace, --but the question is _not_, what do peoplebelieve or think _outside_ of the _Convent?_ but, _'what hasbeen done in it?'_

"By the issue of this investigation, Miss Monk declares she is ready tostand or fall. 

"You speak, sir, of the 'backwardness' of persons to appear in defenceof Miss Monk's book. We promise to appear as often on the subject as youare willing to publish our communications. In one of the paragraphs youpublish, our book is spoken of as one of the evils arising from a'_free_ press. ' We think, sir, that 'a free press' is exposed toless condemnation through the 'Awful Disclosures, ' than the 'closeNunneries' which it is designed to expose. 

"Respectfully, &c

"New York, Feb. 22d, 1836. "

 * * * * *

The above was afterward copied in other papers. The followingcertificate appeared in the Protestant Vindicator, and other papers, inMarch, 1836, introducing the two first witnesses. 

"_The truth of Maria Monk's 'Awful Disclosures' amply certified. _

"We the subscribers, having an acquaintance with Miss Maria Monk, andhaving considered the evidence of different kinds which has beencollected in relation to her case, have no hesitation in declaring ourbelief in the truth of the statements she makes in her book recentlypublished in New York, entitled 'Awful Disclosures, ' &c. We at thatsame time declare that the assertion, originally made in the RomanCatholic newspapers of Boston, that the book was copied from a workentitled 'The Gates of Hell opened, ' is wholly destitute of foundation;it being entirely new, and not copied from any thing whatsoever. 

"And we further declare, that _no evidence has yet been produced whichdiscredits the statements of Miss Monk; while, on the contrary, herstory has received, and continues to receive, confirmation from varioussources. _

"During the last week, two important witnesses spontaneously appeared, and offered to give public testimony in her favour. From them thefollowing declarations have been received. The first is an affidavitgiven by Mr. William Miller, now a resident of this city. The second isa statement received from a young married woman, who, with her husband, also resides here. In the clear and repeated statements made by thesetwo witnesses, we place entire reliance; who are ready to furnishsatisfaction to any persons making reasonable inquiries on the subject. 

"W. C. BROWNLEE. 

"JOHN J. SLOCUM. 

"ANDREW BRUCE. 

"D. FANSHAW. 

"AMOS BELDEN. 

"DAVID WESSON. 

"THOMAS HOGAN. "

 * * * * *

(AFFIDAVIT OF WILLIAM MILLER. )

"_City and County of New York, ss. _

"William Miller being duly sworn, doth say--I knew Maria Monk when shewas quite a child, and was acquainted with all her father's family. Myfather, Mr. Adam Miller, kept the government school at St. John's, LowerCanada, for some years. Captain Wm. Monk, Maria's father, lived in thegarrison, a short distance from the village, and she attended the schoolwith me for some months, probably as much as a year. Her four brothersalso attended with us. Our families were on terms of intimacy, as myfather had a high regard for Captain Monk; but the temper of his wifewas such, even at that time, as to cause much trouble. Captain Monk diedvery suddenly, as was reported, in consequence of being poisoned. Mrs. Monk was then keeper of the Government House in Montreal, and received apension, which privilege she has since enjoyed. In the summer of 1832, Ileft Canada, and came to this city. In about a year afterward I visitedMontreal, and on the day when the Governor reviewed the troops, Ibelieve about the end of August, I called at the Government House, whereI saw Mrs. Monk and several of the family. I inquired where Maria was, and she told me that she was in the nunnery. This fact I well remember, because the information gave me great pain, as I had unfavorableopinions of the nunneries. On reading the 'Awful Disclosures, ' I at onceknew she was the eloped nun, but was unable to find her until a few dayssince, when we recognized each other immediately. I give with pleasuremy testimony in her favour, as she is among strangers, and exertionshave been made against her. I declare my personal knowledge of manyfacts stated in her book, and my full belief in the truth of her story, which, shocking as it is, cannot appear incredible to those personsacquainted with Canada. 

"WILLIAM MILLER. 

"Sworn before me, this 3d day of March, 1836. 

"BENJAMIN D. K. CRAIG, "Commissioner of Deeds, &c. "

 * * * * *

_From the Protestant Vindicator of March 9. _

"The following statement has been furnished by the female witness above-mentioned; the name being reserved only from delicacy to a lady'sfeelings. "

(TESTIMONY OF ANOTHER OLD SCHOOLMATE. )

"I was born at Montreal, and resided there until within a few months, and where my friends still remain. I was educated among the Catholics, and have never separated myself from them. 

"I knew Maria Monk when quite a child. We went to school together forabout a year, as near as I can remember, to Mr. Workman, Sacrament-street, in Montreal. She is about one month younger than myself. We leftthat school at the same time, and entered the Congregational Nunnerynearly together. I could mention many things which I witnessed there, calculated to confirm some of her accounts. 

"I knew of the elopement of a priest named Leclerc, who was a confessor, with a nun sent from the Congregational Nunnery to teach in a village. They were brought back, after which she gave birth to an infant, and wasagain employed as a teacher. 

"Children were often punished in the Congregational Nunnery, by beingmade to stand with arms extended, to imitate Christ's posture on thecross; and when we found vermin in our soup, as was often the case, wewere exhorted to overcome our repugnance to it, because Christ died forus. I have seen such belts as are mentioned in the 'Awful Disclosures, 'as well as gags; but never saw them applied. 

"Maria Monk left the Congregational Nunnery before I did, and became aNovice in the Hotel Dieu. I remember her entrance into the latter verywell, for we had a 'jour de congé, ' holiday, on that occasion. 

"Some short time subsequently, after school hours one afternoon, whilein the school-room in the second story of the Congregational Nunnery, several of the girls standing near a window exclaimed, 'There is MariaMonk. ' I sprang to the window to look, and saw her with several othernovices, in the yard of the Hotel Dieu, among the plants which grewthere. She did not appear to notice us, but I perfectly recognised her. 

"I have frequently visited the public hospital of the Hotel Dieu. It isthe custom there for some of the nuns and novices to enter at threeo'clock, P. M. , in procession with food and delicacies for the sick. Irecollect some of my visits there by circumstances attending them. Forinstance, I was much struck, on several occasions, by the beauty of ayoung novice, whose slender, graceful form, and interesting appearance, distinguished her from the rest. On inquiry, I learnt that her name wasDubois, or something like it, and the daughter of an old man who hadremoved from the country, and lived near the Place d'Armes. She was sogenerally admired for her beauty, that she was called 'la belle St. François'--St. Francis being the saint's name she had assumed in theConvent. 

"I frequently went to the hospital to see two of my particular friendswho were novices: and subsequently to visit one who had a sore throat, and was sick for some weeks. I saw Maria Monk there many times, in thedress of a novice, employed in different ways but we were never allowedto speak to each other. 

"Towards the close of the winter of 1833-4, I visited the hospital ofthe Hotel Dieu very frequently, to see Miss Bourke, a friend of mine, although I was not permitted to speak with her. While there one day, atthe hour of _'congé'_ or _'collation'_ which, as I beforestated, was at three P. M. , a procession of nuns and novices entered, andamong the former I saw Maria Monk, with a black veil, &c. She perceivedand recognized me; but put her finger on her lips in token of silence;and knowing how rigidly the rules were enforced, I did not speak. 

"A short time afterward, I saw her again in the same place, and undersimilar circumstances. 

"I can fix the year when this occurred, because I recollect that thenuns in the hospital stared at a red dress I wore that season; and I amcertain about that time of year, because I left my galoshes at thedoor before I went in. 

"The improper conduct of a priest was the cause of my leaving theCongregational Nunnery: for my brother saw him kissing a [illegible]one day while he was on a visit to me, and exclaimed--'O mon Dieu!what a place you are in!--If father does not take you out of it Iwill, if I have to tear you away. '

"After the last sight I had of Maria Monk in the hospital, I never sawnor heard of her, until after I had been for some time an inhabitant ofNew York. I then saw an extract from 'Awful Disclosures, ' published in anewspaper, when I was perfectly satisfied that she was the authoress, and again at liberty. I was unable for several weeks to find herresidence, but at length visited the house when she was absent. Seeingan infant among a number of persons who were strangers to me, as thosepresent will testify, I declared that it must be the child mentioned inher book, from the striking resemblance it bears to Father Phelan, whomI well know. This declaration has also been made by others. 

"When Maria Monk entered, she passed across the room, without turningtowards me; but I recognised her by her gait, and when she saw me sheknew me at once. I have since spent many hours with her, and am entirelyconvinced of the truth of her story, especially as I knew many thingsbefore which tend to confirm the statements which she makes. "

["It is superfluous to add any thing to the above testimony. Let theRoman priests of Montreal open the Hotel Dieu Nunnery for ourinspection, and thus confute Maria Monk: or, Mr. Conroy is againchallenged to institute a criminal process against her, or a civil suitagainst the publishers of her volume--They dare not place the eloped nunor her booksellers in that 'Inquisition;' because they know that itwould only be 'putting themselves to the torture!'"--_Ed. Prot. Vind. _]

 * * * * *

_From The Protestant Vindicator of March 16th. _

"We recommend the following communications to all persons who doubt thewickedness of Nunneries. The young gentleman who sent us the letter isnow in this city, and we have heard the same statements from otherwitnesses. That subterraneous passages from the Seminary to theNunneries, we ourselves have seen, and close by the spot designated byour correspondent:--

(STATEMENT OF J. M. )

_"Underground passage from the Jesuit Seminary to the Hotel DieuNunnery, Montreal. _

"I have been informed that you are endeavoring to obtain facts and otherincidental circumstances relative to the Black Nunnery, in Montreal, andthe disclosures concerning it, made by Maria Monk, in which are manyhard things, but hard as they are, they are not indigestible by usCanadians; we believe that she has told but a small part of what shemust know, if she was but half the time there which she says she was. Maria Monk has mentioned in her book something about the undergroundpassage which leads from the Black Nunnery to other places in Montreal. That fact I know by ocular demonstration, and which nine tenths of theCanadians also will not deny, for it has been opened several times bythe labourers, who have been digging for the purpose of laying pipes toconduct gas and water. While preparing a place for the latter I saw oneof those passages; the earth being removed by the labourers, they struckupon the top of the passage, and curiosity led them to see what wasbeneath, for it sounded as though there was a hollow. They accordinglyremoved the large flat stones which formed the top of the passage. Manypersons were looking on at the time, and several of them went down intoit; when they returned after a few minutes, they stated that they wentbut a short distance, before they came to an intersection of passages, and were afraid to proceed further. Shortly after, several priests wereon the spot, and prevented the people from further examining it; and hadthe place shut up immediately, while they stood by and guarded it untilit was all done. The appearance of that part of the passage was the sameas I saw while they were laying the water pipes. The floor of it in both[illegible] where I saw it was clean to appearance, with the exception ofa little dirt that fell in on opening them, and of stone flagging. Ihave heard much about these underground passages in Montreal, in whichplace I have spent the most of my days. I give you my name andresidence: and if you should be called upon from any quarter for thetruth of this statement. I am ready to attest it upon oath; and thereare others in this city who have witnessed the same things. The placeswhere those openings were made in the underground passages were in St. Joseph street for the water pipes; and for the gas pipes in Notre-Damestreet, near Sacrament street, at a short distance from the Seminary. 

"W. M. "

 * * * * *

About the close of February last, a note was sent me from a personsigning himself the man who took me to the Almshouse. Soon after I hadan interview with Mr. Hilliker, whom I recognised as my first protectorin New York, and to whom I owe much--indeed, as I think, my life. Hekindly offered to give me his testimony, which follows:--

_From the New York Journal of Commerce_. 

(AFFIDAVIT OF JOHN HILLIKER, )

_"City and County of New York, ss. _

"John Hilliker, being duly sworn, doth depose and say--that one dayearly in the month of May, 1835, while shooting near the Third Avenue, opposite the three milestone, in company with three friends, I saw awoman sitting in a field at a short distance, who attracted ourattention. On reaching her, we found her sitting with her head down, andcould not make her return any answer to our questions. On raising herhat, we saw that she was weeping. She was dressed in an old calicofrock, (I think of a greenish colour, ) with a checked apron, and an oldblack bonnet. After much delay and weeping, she began to answer myquestions, but not until I had got my companions to leave us, andassured her that I was a married man, and disposed to befriend her. 

"She then told me that her name was Maria, that she had been a nun in anunnery in Montreal, from which she had made her escape, on account ofthe treatment she had received from priests in that institution, whoselicentious conduct she strongly intimated to me. She mentioned someparticulars concerning the Convent and her escape. She spokeparticularly of a small room where she used to attend, until thephysician entered to see the sick, when she accompanied him to writedown his prescriptions; and said that she escaped through a door whichhe sometimes entered. She added, that she exchanged her dress afterleaving the nunnery, and that she came to New York in company with aman, who left her as soon as the steamboat arrived. She farther stated, that she expected soon to give birth to a child, having become pregnantin the Convent; that she had no friend, and knew not where to find one;that she thought of destroying her life; and wished me to leave her--saying, that if I should hear of a woman being found drowned in the EastRiver, she earnestly desired me never to speak of her. 

"I asked her if she had had any food that day, to which she answered, no; and I gave her money to get some at the grocery of Mr. Cox, in theneighbourhood. She left me, but I afterwards saw her in the fields, going towards the river; and after much urgency, prevailed upon her togo to a house where I thought she might be accommodated, offering to payher expenses. Failing in this attempt, I persuaded her, with muchdifficulty, to go the Almshouse; and there we got her received, after Ihad promised to call and see her, as she said she had something of greatconsequence which she wished to communicate to me, and wished me towrite a letter to Montreal. 

"She had every appearance of telling the truth; so much so, that I havenever for a moment doubted the truth of her story, but told it to manypersons of my acquaintance, with entire confidence in its truth. Sheseemed overwhelmed with grief, and in a very desperate state of mind. Isaw her weep for two hours or more without ceasing; and appeared veryfeeble when attempting to walk, so that two of us supported her by thearms. We observed also, that she always folded her hands under her apronwhen she walked, as she has described the nuns as doing in her 'AwfulDisclosures. '

"I called at the Almshouse gate several times and inquired for her; buthaving forgotten half her name, I could not make it understood whom Iwished to see, and did not see her until the last week. When I saw someof the first extracts from her book in a newspaper, I was confident thatthey were parts of her story, and when I read the conclusion of thework, I had not a doubt of it. Indeed, many things in the course of thebook I was prepared for from what she had told me. 

"When I saw her, I recognised her immediately, although she did not knowme at first, being in a very different dress. As soon as she wasinformed where she had seen me, she recognised me. I have not found inthe book any thing inconsistent with what she had stated to me when Ifirst saw her. 

"When I first found her in May, 1835, she had evidently soughtconcealment. She had a letter in her hand, which she refused to let mesee; and when she found I was determined to remove her, she tore it insmall pieces, and threw them down. Several days after I visited the spotagain and picked them up, to learn something of the contents but couldfind nothing intelligible, except the first part of the Signature, 'Maria. '

"Of the truth of her story I have not the slightest doubt, and I think Inever can until the Nunnery is opened and examined. 

"JOHN HILLIKER. 

"Sworn before me, this 14th of March, 1835. 

"PETER JENKINS, "Commissioner of Deeds. "

The following challenge was published in the N. Y. Protestant Vindicatorfor six or seven weeks, in March and April, without a reply. 

"CHALLENGE--The Roman Prelate and Priests of Montreal--Messrs. Conroy, Quarter, and Schneller, of New York--Messrs. Fenwick and Byrne ofBoston--Mr. Hughes of Philadelphia--the Arch-Prelate of Baltimore, andhis subordinate Priests--and Cardinal England of Charleston, with allother Roman Priests, and every Nun from Baffin's bay to the Gulf ofMexico, are hereby challenged to meet an investigation of the truth ofMaria Monk's 'Awful Disclosures, ' before an impartial assembly, overwhich shall preside _seven_ gentlemen; three to be selected by theRoman Priests, three by the Executive Committee of the New YorkProtestant Association, and the Seventh as Chairman, to be chosen by thesix. 

"An eligible place in New York shall be appointed and the regulationsfor the decorum and order of the meetings, with all the otherarrangements, shall be made by the above gentlemen. 

"All communications upon this subject from any of the Roman Priests orNuns, either individually, or as delegates for their superiors, addressed to the _Corresponding Secretary of the New York ProtestantAssociation_, No. 142 Nassau-street, New York, will be promptlyanswered. "

 * * * * *

_From the N. Y. Protestant Vindicator of April 6, 1836. _

"THE CHALLENGE. --We have been waiting with no small degree of impatienceto hear from some of the Roman priests. But neither they, nor theirsisters, the nuns, nor one of their nephews or _nieces_, have yetventured to come out. Our longings meet only with disappointment. Didever any person hear of similar conduct on the part of men accused ofthe highest crimes, in their deepest dye? Here is a number of Romanpriests, as actors, or accessories, openly denounced before the world asguilty, of the most outrageous sins against the sixth and seventhcommandments. They are charged before the world with adultery, fornication, and murder! The allegations are distinctly made, the placeis mentioned, the parties are named, and the time is designated; for itis lasting as the annual revolutions of the seasons. And what is mostextraordinary, --_the highest official authorities in Canada know thatall those statements are true, and they sanction and connive at theiniquity!_--The priests and nuns have been offered, for severalmonths past, the most easy and certain mode to disprove the feloniesimputed to them, and they are still as the dungeons of the Inquisition, silent as the death-like quietude of the convent cell; and as retired asif they were in the subterraneous passages between the Nunnery andLartigue's habitation. Now, we contend, that scarcely a similar instanceof disregard for the opinions of mankind, can be found since theReformation, at least, in a Protestant country. Whatever disregard forthe judgment of others, the Romish priests may have felt, where theInquisition at their command, and the civil power was their Jackal andtheir Hyena: they have been obliged to pay some little regard to theopinion of protestants, and to the dread of exposure. We thereforerepeat the solemn indubitable truth--that the facts which are stated byMaria Monk, respecting the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal, are true asthe existence of the priests and nuns, --that the character, principles, and practices of the Jesuits and Nuns in Canada are most accuratelydelineated--that popish priests, and sisters of charity in the UnitedStates, are their faithful and exact counterparts--that many femaleschools in the United States, kept by the papist teachers, are nothingmore than places of decoy through which young women, at the mostdelicate age, are ensnared into the power of the Roman priests--and thatthe toleration of the monastic system in the United States and Britain, the only two countries in the world, in which that unnatural abominationis now extending its withering influence, is high treason against Godand mankind. If American citizens and British Christians, after theappalling developments which have been made, permit the continuance ofthat prodigious wickedness which is inseparable from nunneries and thecelibacy of popish priests, they will ere long experience that divinecastigation which is justly due to transgressors, who wilfully trampleupon all the appointments of God, and who subvert the foundation ofnational concord, and extinguish the comforts of domestic society. Listen to the challenge again! _All the papers with which theProtestant Vindicator exchanges, are requested to give the challenge oneor two insertions_. " (Here it was repeated. )

 * * * * *

_Testimony of a friend in the hospital_

_Statement_ made by a respectable woman, who had the charge of meduring a part of my stay in the Bellevue Hospital, in New York. She isready to substantiate it. It is now first published. 

"I was employed as an occasional assistant in the Bellevue Hospital, inNew York, in the spring of the year 1835. My department was in theMiddle House and the pantry. I was present one day in the room of Mrs. Johnston, the Matron, when a man came in with a young woman, and gave anote to Mrs. J. , (which I understood was from Col. Fish. ) theSuperintendent, Mr. Stevens, being out. The female was dressed in alight blue calico frock, a salmon-coloured shawl, and a black bonnet, under which was a plain cap, something like a night-cap, which Iafterward understood was a nun's cap. Being occupied at that time, Ipaid no attention to the conversation which took place between her andthe Matron; but I soon heard that she was a nun who had escaped from aconvent in Canada, who had been found in a destitute condition, by somepersons shooting in the fields, and that she was in such a situation asto demand comforts and careful treatment. 

"She was placed in room No. 33, where most of the inmates were agedAmerican women; but as she appeared depressed and melancholy, the nextday Mr. Stevens brought her into No. 26, and put her under my particularcharge, as he said the women in that room were younger. They were, however, almost all Roman Catholics as there are many in the institutiongenerally. 

"I told her she might confide in me, as I felt for her friendless andunhappy situation; and finding her ignorant of the Bible, and entertainingsome superstitious views, I gave her one, and advised her to read thescriptures, and judge for herself. We had very little opportunity toconverse in private; and although she several times said she wished shecould tell me something, no opportunity offered, as I was with her onlynow and then, when I could step into the room for a few minutes. Idiscouraged her from talking, because those around appeared to beconstantly listening, and some told her not to mind 'that heretic. '

"Seeing her unhappy state of mind, it was several times proposed to herto see Mr. Tappan; and, after a week or two, as I should judge, hevisited her, advised her to read the Bible, and judge for herself of herduty. 

"One Sabbath I invited her to attend service, and we went to hear Mr. Tappan preach; but after her return, some of the Irish women told her togo no more, but mind her own religion. This produced an impression uponher, for she seemed like a child of tender feeling, gentle, and disposedto yield. She bound herself round my heart a good deal, she was of soaffectionate a turn. The rudeness with which she was treated by severalof the women, when they dared, would sometimes overcome her. A large andrather old woman, named Welsh, one of the inmates, entered the room oneday, very abruptly, saying, 'I want to see this virtuous nun;' andabused her with most shameful language, so that I had to return to her, and complain of her to the Superintendent, who was shocked at suchimpudence in a foreign pauper, so that she was put into another room. Maria was washing her hands at the time Mrs. Welsh came in, and was somuch agitated, that she did not raise her head, and almost fainted, sothat I had to lift her upon a bed. 

"Before this occurrence, the women would often speak to Maria while Iwas away and, as I had every reason to believe, endeavoured to persuadeher to go to the priests. I told them that they ought rather to protecther, as she had come to the same country where they had soughtprotection. 

"Mr. Conroy, a Roman priest, used to be regularly at the institution twoor three times a week, from about 10 till 1 o'clock, both before andafter Maria Monk became an inmate of it. No. 10 was his confession-room. He baptised children in the square-ward, and sometimes visited the sickCatholics in other rooms. Sometimes he went up in the afternoon also. 

"I heard it said, that Mr. Conroy had asked to speak with Maria: andthat an offer was made to him that he might see her before others, butnot otherwise, to which Mr. Conroy did not consent. 

"Sometimes Maria was much disturbed in her sleep, starting suddenly, with every appearance of terror. Some nights she did not sleep at all, and often told me, what I had no doubt was the fact, that she was toomuch agitated by the recollection of what she had seen in the Nunnery. She would sometimes say in the morning, 'O, if I could tell you! Youthink you have had trouble, but I have had more than ever you did. '

"Her distressing state of mind, with the trials caused by those aroundher, kept me constantly thinking of Maria, so that when employed at adistance from her, I would often run to her room, to see how she was fora moment, and back again. Fortunately, the women around held me somewhatin fear, because they found my reports of the interference of some wereattended to; and this kept them more at a distance; yet they would takeadvantage of my absence sometimes. One day, on coming to No. 23. I foundMaria all in a tremour, and she told me that Mrs. ----, one of theRoman Catholic nurses, had informed her that Mr. Conroy was in theinstitution, and wished to see her. 'And what shall I do?' she inquiredof me, in great distress. 

"I told her not to be afraid, and that she should be protected, as shewas among friends, and endeavoured to quiet her fears all I could; butit was very difficult to do so. One of the women in the house, I know, told Maria, in my presence, one day, that Mr. Conroy was waiting in thepassage to see her. The present Superintendent (another Mr. Stevens)succeeded the former while Maria and I were in the Hospital. Abby Welsh(not the Mrs. Welsh mentioned before) got very angry with me one day, because, as usual on the days when Mr. Conroy came, I was watchful toprevent his having an interview with Maria. Another person, for a time, used to employ her in sewing in her room on those days, for she alsoprotected her, as well in this way, as by reproving those who troubledher. Abby Welsh, finding me closely watching Maria on the day I wasspeaking of, told me, in a passion, that I might watch her as closely asI pleased--Mr. Conroy _would have her_. Not long after this, I sawAbby Welsh talking earnestly with Mr. Conroy, in the yard, under one ofthe windows of the Middle House, and heard her say, 'the nun, ' andafterward, 'she's hid. '

"A Roman Catholic woman, who supposed that Maria had been seen in St. Mary's Church, expressed a wish that she could have caught her there;and said, she would never again have made her appearance. I inquiredwhether there was any place where she could have been confined. Shereplied, in a reserved, but significant manner, 'There is at least onecell there for her. '

"New York, March 23d, 1836. "

It would be a natural question, if my readers should ask, "What said theRoman Catholics to such testimonials? They laid great stress onaffidavits sent for to Montreal; what do they think of affidavitsspontaneously given in New York?"

So far as I know, they have republished but one, and that is Mr. Miller's!

The New York Catholic Diary of March 19th, said--

"We take the following _overwhelming_ testimony from the_Brooklyn American Citizen_ of the 11th instant:

"The following affidavits, &c. , are copied from the last No. Of the'Protestant Vindicator, ' and prove, it seems to us, taken with othercorroborating circumstances, the falsehood and irrelevancy of thetestimony against Miss Monk, and therefore establish the truth of hernarrative:"

(Here it inserted Mr. Miller's affidavit, and then added:)

"What is the weight of the affidavit? Of ponderous import? I inquiredwhere Maria was, and she told me she was in the Nunnery? Therefore sheis an eloped Nun. Marvellous logical affidavit! We may say, that when aninquiry is made after the editor of this paper, and the answer is, thathe was in Protestant Church, therefore he is a Protestant minister. "

The Rev. Mr. Schneller, (for a Catholic priest is the editor of thatpaper, ) thus tries to slide over the important testimony of Mr. Miller, and in doing it, admits that I was in the Hotel Dieu Nunnery in thesummer of 1832. Of course, _he admits then, that Dr. Robertson'stestimony to the contrary it false, and gives up the great point whichthe Montreal affidavits were intended to settle, _ viz. That I had notbeen in any Nunnery--at least, not since I was a child. 

But another thing is worthy of remark. The Diary says, "We take thefollowing overwhelming testimony from the Brooklyn American Citizen, "yet he really leaves out the greater part of the testimony which thatpaper contained, viz. The certificate beginning on page 251. Let any oneturn to that, and ask whether the editor had not some reason to wish tokeep it from his readers? Did he not get rid of it very ingeniously, when he inserted the following remarks instead of it?

"The following statement has been furnished by the female witness abovementioned; the name being reserved only from delicacy to a lady'sfeelings. "

"Excellent! 'delicacy to a lady's feelings!!' we are absorbed in anexclamation of wonder; the _delicate_ name, in a matter of suchvast importance, as that which affects the _truth_ of theslanderous tale, cannot be mentioned!

"Therefore, 'we, the subscribers, ' 'Brownlee, Slocum, Brace, Fanshaw, Belden, Wesson, and Hogan, ' rest the weight of their authority upon the'delicacy' of a nameless 'lady's feelings. '"

Now here Mr. Shellner pretends that the witness was not accessible, andleaves it in doubt, whether the subscribers, (men of known character andunimpeachable veracity. ) knew any thing of her. Yet it was expresslystated by them that she was known, and that any reasonable inquirieswould be readily answered. (See p. 249. )

I have no intention of attempting to enforce the evidence presented inthe testimonials just given. I shall leave every reader to form his ownconclusions independently and dispassionately. I could easily say thingslikely to excite the feelings of every one who peruses these pages--butI prefer to persist in the course I have thus far pursued, and abstainfrom all exciting expressions. The things I declare are sober realities, and nothing is necessary to have them so received, but that the evidencebe calmly laid before the public. 

I will make one or two suggestions here, for the purpose of directingattention to points of importance, though one or two of them have beenalready touched upon. 

1st. One of the six affidavits was given by Dr. Robertson, and theremaining five were sworn to before him. 

2d. The witnesses speak of interviews with me, on two of the mostdistressing days of my life. Now let the reader refer to thoseaffidavits and then say, whether any expressions which they may havemisunderstood, or any which may have been fabricated for me, (as Istrongly suspect must have been the fact with some, ) ought to destroy mycharacter for credibility; especially when I appeal to evidence soincontestible as an inspection of the nunnery, and my opponents shrinkfrom it. Let the reader observe also, that in the interviews spoken ofin the affidavits, no third person is commonly spoken of as present;while those who are named are most of them inimical to me. 

3d. All the testimony in the affidavits is aimed to destroy mycharacter, and to prevent me from receiving any credit as a witness. Nota bit of it meets the charges I make against the priests and nuns. Ifthey had proved that I never was in the nunnery, that, indeed would setaside my testimony: but failing to do [illegible], the attempt goesfar to set their own aside. 

Having now fairly shown my readers what reception my first edition metwith, both from enemies and friends, I proceed to the "Sequel" of mynarrative. 

THE END.