I 
 
 mmi 
 
 wmm 
 
 "W: 
 
 wm.. 
 
 ^iiS 
 
 # 
 
Columbia (Hnitiers^ftp 
 intljeCttpofKmgork 
 
 THE LIBRARIES 
 
 Bequest of 
 
 Frederic Bancroft 
 
 1860-1945 
 
= s: 
 
 e»5 cd 
 O 
 
£ § o t £H^2 
 ' ,. = c c >= " 
 
^■22 
 
 ■a aJS= . 
 
 a ^ a o 
 
 r 
 
 
 »l 1- 1 1 M L 
 
 IIIIlT 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 <N 
 
 
 
 1 r 
 
 
 %3 
 
 
 
 _i r 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 _i r 
 
 
 
 
 1 r 
 
 
 
 _ 
 
 -"Ur 
 
 
 
 
 _ 1 1 
 
 «i 
 
 CM 
 
 
 1 r 
 
 
 
 
 :i"l r 
 
 
 
 
 1 r 
 
 
 
 
 _1 r 
 
 
 
 
 -1 r 
 
 0) 
 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ►o 
 
 
 ~ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ; 
 
 
 
 - 1 ^ 
 
 '^j 
 
 
 =^ 
 
 
 ■5 
 
 I'.uii 
 
 bCoc ' 
 
 .S 3 
 
 _: w ® ■:« 
 o ^ - ^ 
 
 ; <p o 
 
 & 
 
 • "' o S - 03 -is 
 
 2 b2 § £ V- ii g^ 
 S i3 "r 2 fe =3 >:• S,-l 
 
 on o 
 
 J 3 § ? 2 
 
 ? O U Eh g O B O B d. fL, 
 
THE ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 The vieiv of St. Joseph's, at or near Emmettsburg, is taken 
 from an engraving given in one of the circulars of that in- 
 stitution, designed to show the academy buildings ; of course, 
 those buildings are made the most conspicuous and promi- 
 nent in the picture, but, by close observation, the cloister- 
 buildings are seen forming a large hollow square beyond the 
 chapel and the large building occupied by the boarders. 
 
 The interior j)lans of the Institution were made by Mss 
 Bunkley, entirely from recollection, some months before the 
 engraving was obtained, and, of course, may be in many re- 
 spects imperfect, particularly as to the relative proportions 
 of the rooms. The gi'ound-plan was found remarkably cor- 
 rect in the outline as compared with the engraving, and in 
 reducing it to the proper size for the book, in accordance 
 with the engraving, its relative proportions have been but 
 little altered. 
 
 The cells are doubtless too few in number. They are 
 drawn too large for the scale, in order to make them more 
 distinct. In the main, it is believed that the interior will 
 prove a correct delineation, and -will show an admirable ar- 
 rangement for non-intercourse between the community and 
 the boarding-scholars. 
 
 The infirmary building stands distant from the cloister 
 building by the width of the balcony or porch in its rear, 
 but we have joined them, in order to bring the cuts within 
 the page. 
 
 At the conclusion of this volume will be found a Note, giv- 
 ing a full description of St. Joseph's Institution, extracted 
 from the " Life of Mrs. Seton," its founder ; published by 
 Dunigan and Brother in 1853. This description came to 
 the knowledge of the editor only as the present work was 
 going to press. The reader may, for himself, compare it 
 with Miss Bunkley's delineations ; they ^^^ll be found to cor- 
 respond "wdth remarkable precision, though prepared by her 
 ill June last, and without the aid of any official statements. 
 
MISS BUIKLEY'S BOOK. 
 
 THE TESTIMONY 
 
 OF 
 
 AN ESCAPED NOVICE 
 
 FKOM THE 
 
 SISTERHOOD OF ST. JOSEPH, 
 
 EMMETTSEURG, MARYLAND, 
 
 THE MOTHER-HOUSE OF THE SISTERS OF CHARITY 
 IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 JOSEPHINE M. BUNKLEY. 
 
 N 
 
 N E W Y O R K : 
 
 HAKPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQTJAKE. 
 
 1856. 
 

 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thou- 
 sand eight hundred and fifty-five, by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 r19 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The liistoiy of this book is almost as remarkable 
 as that of its subject. Shortly after Miss Bunkley 
 had escaped from St. Joseph's in the manner she has 
 stated in her narrative, the Superior of that convent 
 published a defamatory letter against her. This de- 
 cided Miss Bunkley not only to defend herself, but 
 also to give an exhibition of convent life, as it had 
 come under her observation, for the information and 
 warning of her American countrymen ; and, in coming 
 to this determination, she did not act on her own judg- 
 ment only, but availed herself of the advice of judi- 
 cious friends, who believed that it was a sacred duty 
 to the American community and the best interests of 
 society to do so. 
 
 In accordance with this resolution, she wrote a nar- 
 rative of what she had seen and heard while in the in- 
 stitution of St. Joseph, and committed the same for 
 revision, with other papers bearing on the subject, to 
 a gentleman in l^orfolk, Virginia, the city of her father's 
 residence. 
 
 This gentleman, without consulting her, made an 
 arrangement with a publishing house in the city of 
 
X ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 New York for the publication of the work, and sent 
 aAvay a large portion of the manuscript, without per- 
 mitting her to read it after he had revised it. • This fact 
 came to the knowledge of a friend in New Jersey, a 
 gentleman of position and great courage and persever- 
 ance, who has taken a deep interest in this whole af- 
 fair, and has enabled her to conduct the matter to a suc- 
 cessful issue. Without delay, she demanded, through 
 legal counsel, her narrative and other papers ; but this 
 demand was refused. She was compelled, in these 
 circumstances, to give an order to her counsel to file a 
 bill for injunction to prevent the publication. After 
 several weeks fruitlessly spent by them in endeavor- 
 ing to obtain possession of her manuscript for exam- 
 ination, a bill of injunction was at length filed in the 
 United States Court to suppress the publication of the 
 work, which had in the mean time been printed, but 
 not yet issued. 
 
 A great deal was said in the newspapers, political 
 and religious, Protestant and Roman Catholic, about 
 this affair, which induced ]\Iiss Bunkley to set forth, 
 in a card to the public, that neither the publishers 
 referred to nor any one else had been authorized by 
 her to publish her book, and stating that, in view of 
 these circumstances — not beings able to recover her 
 manuscript — she should be under the necessity of re- 
 writing her narrative, which would, of course, occa- 
 sion some delay in its publication. That she and her 
 friends had good reason to pursue the course which 
 she did, a very slight perusal of the work — a copy of 
 which the publishers brought into court — abundantly 
 proved. Another injunction was also obtained on her 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. xi 
 
 likeness and autograph, which it was discovered had 
 been prepared for circidation with the hook. 
 
 Foiled in their attempt to bring before the public the 
 work just mentioned, the parties in question shortly 
 after issued an anonymous and fictitious work, under 
 the title of The Escaped Xun, against which Miss 
 Bunkley felt it to be her duty to warn the public, in- 
 asmuch as it was spoken of in the papers in some 
 quarters as her own. 
 
 Neither discouraged by these vexatious disappoint- 
 ments, nor intimidated by the threats of the hierarchy 
 of Rome and their abettors. Miss Bunkley, with the 
 ad^dce of reliable friends, went forward, and, having 
 re- written her narrative, engaged the services of a gen- 
 tleman, every way competent to the task, to revise it 
 and superintend the printing of her book. This task 
 he has executed with ability and fidelity, and to her 
 entire satisfaction. 
 
 ]S[ot a fact has been distorted ; not a sentiment has 
 been modified ; he has contented himself with per- 
 forming the office of an editor, so far as Miss Bunkley's 
 narrative is concerned. He has, however, subjoined 
 many notes, that contain facts and statements, deri\ed 
 from authentic sources, which confirm the truth and 
 enhance the value of the narrative. He also added 
 some chapters on the whole question of conventual 
 establishments, whi^h will command, as they deserve, 
 profound consideration ; and extracts from a long and 
 most important letter from the Rev. Dr. De Sanctis, 
 who, from his fonner official position in the Romish 
 Church, and at Rome itself, is well qualified to speak 
 on this subject. The whole book will be read, we are 
 
Xll ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 confident, with great interest by our American citizens. 
 It sets before the world, in a clear and authentic man- 
 ner, the true nature of convent life, even in tlie most 
 popular and the most worthy (if we may be allowed 
 the application of the epithet to any such establish- 
 ment) of all the female " communities" of the Roman 
 Catholic organization. The appearance of the work, 
 though much delayed by the circumstances of which 
 we have spoken, will still be opportune, and (with 
 God's blessing) do much good. 
 
MISS BUNKLEY'S BOOK. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 IMPRESSIONS OF CHILDHOOD. 
 
 The church bell chimed the hour of prayer ; sweet- 
 ly and solemnly the sound floated upon the evening 
 wind, as a little child lingered to listen near an old 
 church-yard in the city of Norfolk. Heated and tired 
 with play, she stood in the cool breeze, curiously 
 watching the crowds of people wdio passed rapidly by 
 and flocked into the sanctuary. The composed and 
 devout expression of their countenances, as they ea- 
 gerly pressed forward to reach the place in season, at- 
 tracted the attention of the child, who besought her 
 nurse to follow the throng and enter the sacred pre- 
 cincts. Her attendant — one of those faithful domes- 
 tics of the South who are intrusted with the charge of 
 young children, and who delight in obeying almost 
 implicitly the commands of their infantile masters and 
 mistresses — readily consented ; and, crossing the 
 church-yard, they passed into the vestibule of the edi- 
 flce. Pausing with childish surprise to gaze at those 
 who performed the ceremony of sprinkling and cross- 
 
14 MJ.S8 bcnkley's nooK. 
 
 irig themselves with holy water at the door, the little 
 girl seated herself near the entrance. AYliile yet ab- 
 sorbed with the novelty of her position, and admiring- 
 ly alive to the wonders that presented themselves to 
 her view, the deep tones of the organ swelled forth in 
 a melody of such sm-passing sweetness that she clasp- 
 ed her hands in an ecstasy of delight ; and turning to 
 her nurse, her innocent face radiant with pleasure, she 
 whispered, "How sweet! how beautiful!" The mu- 
 sic ceased, but left that young susceptible heart en- 
 tranced, bewildered, captivated. With wondering de- 
 light she continued to gaze upon the scene before her: 
 the altar with its rich decorations, the burning tajDcrs, 
 the ascending cloud of incense, the paintings, the gor- 
 geous vestments of the priests, the successive acts and 
 postures that contribute to the dramatic effect of the 
 Roman Catholic ritual — all this she beheld for the first 
 time in rapt and mute astonishment. It was as if 
 some heavenly vision were opened to her inspection, 
 and emotions newly awakened and indefinable flutter- 
 ed in her bosom. The pleasing variety of sounds, the 
 sweet perfume of aromatic exhalations, the unwonted, 
 the imposing solemnities before her, the sentiment of 
 reverential awe that breathed in all around — all con- 
 tributed to enhance the imj^ression of the senses, and 
 caused her heart to throb with pleasurable excitement ; 
 and when, the service over, she rose and took the hand 
 of her nurse to return homeward, the child sighed 
 deeply, even as one aroused from happy dreams to. the 
 dull realities of common life. 
 
 But far different were the impressions made by this 
 incident from those of a passing dream. They were 
 
IMPRESSIONS OF CHILDHOOD. 15 
 
 deep and abiding, and were destined to control — oli ! 
 liow much and liow powerfully! — the after life of that 
 child, upon whose sensitive being the seductive allure- 
 ments of a sensual system had thus, at the early age 
 of six years, produced marked and permanent effects. 
 Kesults of momentous importance floAved from these 
 simple causes, which, operating so easily and so nat- 
 urally upon the delicate organism of childhood, were 
 yet no random or accidental influences, but directed 
 with the nicest calculation, in accordance with the 
 most consummate knowledge of the intricacies of the 
 human heart, in every stage of its development from 
 the cradle to the grave — a knowledge ever applied with 
 unscrupulous skill and inflexible purpose to the ad- 
 vancement of the interests of the Church and the sub- 
 servience of her designs. 
 
 Eeader, the little child of this slight episode, as the 
 subject of these artful machinations, and in after years 
 the witness of their cruel success, narrates in the fol- 
 lowing pages her unvarnished story. How similar al- 
 lurements, one by one, like the threads. of a strong net, 
 were cast around her ; how other and more overt influ- 
 ences were woven in, till mind and body were alike 
 enthralled ; what schemes, what arts, what arrogance 
 and tyranny she beheld and suffered while under the 
 restraints and within the toils of Romanism — these 
 will constitute the burden of her narrative. 
 
16 MISS BUNKLEY^S BOOK. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EAELY IMPEESSIOXS DEEPENED. 
 
 The imaginative and impressible disposition thus 
 early indicated was developed in cliildhood, not alto- 
 gether without the control and guidance of a religious 
 education. I can not recall the time when my heart 
 was not imbued with a natural reverence for sacred 
 things, or when they had not already awakened in my 
 mind a strong and unaffected interest. But these in- 
 clinations, common to most of those who have been 
 trained up under Christian nurture and admonition, 
 did not then lead me to that simple and humble ap- 
 prehension of the saving truths of the Gospel, which 
 would have satisfied the longings of a restless heart, 
 and obtained for it that peace which it vainly sought 
 in a system of ceremonial forms. Lofty aspirations 
 that reached toward some ideal good, unseen and un- 
 comprehended by all around me, drew me away from 
 that lowly position where, at the foot of the Cross of 
 Calvary, I might have realized the ardent desires of a 
 soul seeking communion with its Maker. These very 
 aspirations were bringing me toward that religion 
 v/hich offered them their full consummation, without 
 apparently requiring all the sacrifice of ambition and 
 pride which the sterner doctrines of the Bible demand. 
 
EARLY IMPEESSIONS DEEPENED. 17 
 
 The recollections of those brilliant and attractive 
 rites which had been witnessed with dehght and won- 
 der in early childhood, served as a continual contrast 
 with the severe simpHcity of the Protestant worship, 
 and the rigid requirements of the Protestant faith. 
 Often were these alluring ceremonies resorted to, and 
 with increasing pleasure, as my disrelish for the relig- 
 ion of my childhood grew stronger. The fanciful but 
 plausible and poetic explanation of the services I be- 
 held interested me. I saw beauty in the symbolic 
 ritual of Eomanism, and began to inquire into the doc- 
 trinal basis of this edifice so stately and fair, upon 
 wdiose threshold already I stood. 
 
 ]My parents were worshipers in the Protestant Epis- 
 copal Church, and from childhood I was educated in 
 the doctrines of that Church, attending its public min- 
 istrations, and receiving instruction in the Sabbath- 
 school. At the age of fourteen I was solicited to pre- 
 sent myself for Confirmation, but I steadily refused to 
 do so, my attachment having been estranged already, 
 if not entirely diverted to another system of worship. 
 It was then that I came to the definite conclusion of 
 investigating the tenets of the Eoman Catholic Church. 
 I commenced the reading -of books explanatory of those 
 tenets. These works were willingly furnished me by 
 Eoman CathoHc acquaintances, who had learned my 
 sentiments, and who, without directly and openly in- 
 terfering to bias my convictions, urged me, with seem- 
 ing candor and liberality, to acquaint myself with 
 "both sides" of the controversy, and to distinguish 
 between the good and the evil of a system so common- 
 ly misrepresented. Thus the very disposition to rise 
 
18 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 superior to vulgar prejudices, and exercise an inde- 
 pendent andresponsible judgment in matters of belief, 
 was made a snare to me, as it has been to multitudes 
 of youthful minds. Let me caution such against this 
 hidden danger. There is but one infallible guide to 
 all spiritual truth. Without his direction, no research 
 of intellect is lawful, or can be fruitful of good. The 
 indications of his presence and assistance are fqlt and 
 manifested only in that honest, humble, teachable, and 
 self-distrustful temper, which becomes and invariably 
 distinguishes the searcher after truth. One who has 
 most painfully felt the possibility of self-deception, in 
 the blind following out of hastily-formed opinions, and 
 concession to the impulsive promptings of a misguided 
 enthusiasm, would- fain warn others to heed the coun- 
 sels of the wise and virtuous, the mature and experi- 
 enced around them, before they commit their spiritual 
 welfare and their temporal happiness to the guidance 
 of men presumptuously aiTOgating to themselves the 
 prerogative of Deity. The pure ray of heavenly light 
 will attract and illuminate those only who steadily 
 turn aside their gaze from the glare of delusive phan- 
 tasms, which amuse, but bewilder and lead astray. 
 God's word alone can furnish that safe and unerring 
 guidance ; God's spirit only can teach infallibly the 
 soul. ■ , 
 
DOUBTS AND HESITATIONS. 19 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 DOUBTS AND HESITATIONS. 
 
 It were needless to recount tlie various phases of 
 mind througli which I passed during the two years pre- 
 ceding my entrance upon a membership of the Eoman 
 Catholic Church. It was, as I imagined, a deliberate 
 course of mature reflection that led me thither. Fas- 
 cinated by the tinsel glitter and pompous parade that 
 conceal the internal hollovfness and corruption of pop- 
 ery, I was ill prepared, however, at the age of sixteen, 
 to weigh arguments and discriminate between conflict- 
 ing statements. Charmed by the consonance of those 
 doctrines of penance and supererogation which I now 
 learned, with my previously conceived notions of self- 
 exertion and merit, I fondly hoped that, in becoming a 
 Roman Catholic, I might discover objects to attract 
 the intellect and engage the heart, exalted sanctity 
 and spiritual repose. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that this growing tendency 
 was unobserved and unopposed by my Protestant 
 friends, nor that their remonstrances failed entirely to 
 infuse doubt and hesitation. Often I seemed to stand 
 upon the brink of a fathomless abyss, looking off from 
 the precipice for some ray of light that might show me 
 a deliverance from the difficulties that encompassed 
 
20 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 me. Sometimes, indeed, the fear would rise lest, un- 
 der tlie pressure of perplexity and distress, my mind 
 would utterly give way. x4l11 other thoughts were ex- 
 cluded while this one question of duty was incessantly 
 revolved. As my purpose of entering the Church of 
 Rome became confirmed, my friends sought to divert 
 my thoughts from the subject. They urged me to 
 abandon the seclusion to which I had devoted myself, 
 and endeavored to revive my spirits in scenes of amuse- 
 ment and gayety. Finding this ineffectual, my par- 
 ents sent me to spend some time in the family of a 
 friend, a Protestant clergyman at Baltimore, during 
 which time I was not allowed an opportunity of at- 
 tending the Roman Catholic service ; but, at the ex- 
 piration of my visit, I returned to Norfolk unaltered 
 in my desire to seek that peace of mind for which I 
 was longing, where so many assured me that I would 
 find it. The impressions fastened by early associa- 
 tions, and by many concurrent influences later, were 
 not of a nature to be dispelled by the frivolities of 
 fashionable society. In these I found not even a tran- 
 sient satisfaction. I had no wish to become a votary 
 of the world ; no disposition to look for happiness in 
 its trifling pursuits. The sole alternative that seemed 
 to present itself to a complete absorption in the follies 
 and vanities of earth, was that refuge which, as I was 
 ever reminded by sympathetic and attentive counsel- 
 ors, the true Church offered within her encircling arms 
 to all that were harassed with doubt, and wearied with 
 the cares of this evil world. 
 
FIRST VISIT TO THE SISTEES. 21 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 FIRST YISIT TO THE SISTERS. 
 
 It was a lovely June evening, shortly after my re- 
 turn from the visit just referred to, wlien I wended my 
 way toward the house occupied by the Sisters of Char- 
 ity at Norfolk. I had reached the decision of making 
 known my spiritual state to them, and seeking advice 
 and direction, hut without the knowledge or consent 
 of my parents, whose opposition to my change of re- 
 hgious connection continued as strong as ever. I 
 ascended the steps and rang the bell; a little orphan 
 child obeyed the summons ; and, having asked for the 
 Superior Sister, I was ushered into the parlor. It was 
 a plainly-furnished apartment, with darkened windows 
 admitting barely hght enough to distinguish the vari- 
 ous objects. After a short interval I heard a light 
 step ; the door opened, and Sister Aloysia, then the 
 Superior Sister there, advanced to receive me. She 
 was dressed in a black habit, with a white Knen col- 
 lar neatly turned over the cape ; her face, which was 
 very pale, nearly concealed by a black cambric cap 
 drawn closely around her head. Her beads were sus- 
 pended from her waist, and she kept her hands clasp- 
 ed before her breast. I introduced myself, and in- 
 formed her of the purpose of my visit. Smiling pleas- 
 
22 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 antly, she led me to a window overlooking the grounds 
 of the institution, and, partly opening the shutters, she 
 bade me seat myself near her, and begged me to o-pen 
 my heart to her without reserve. I did so. I told 
 her of my wants, my aspirations, my uneasiness as to 
 my eternal safety, and my hope that in the bosom of 
 the Catholic Church I might find peace and rest. I 
 told her that, having had little opportunity of inform- 
 ing myself thoroughly on the subject, I had embraced 
 the resolution of coming to her for counsel and instruc- 
 tion. When I ceased, she clasped my hands in hers, 
 and with cordial tones assured me how vvillingly she 
 would endeavor to assist me in my inquiries, and sat- 
 isfy my scruples and doubts. After a long and friend- 
 ly conversation, she invited me to see the chapel, which 
 was in the second story of the building, and at that 
 time was in quite an unfinished state. As we entered, 
 she knelt reverently before the altar, and said a short 
 prayer, and then, taking thence a crucifix, she devout- 
 ly kissed it, remarking, " How can Protestants be so 
 blind as to reject the cross on the ground that it savors 
 of popery, when they know that all their own hopes 
 of salvation must hang upon it ?" 
 
 I left the house, promising to return after a few 
 days. My second visit Avas not less pleasing and en- 
 couraging : the sister urged me to persevere, assuring 
 me that I would overcome all obstacles, and that in 
 due time my family would cease to oppose my enter- 
 ing the Church. At my third visit, she counseled jne 
 to make known the state of my mind to a priest. 
 Meanwhile, however, my friends, having discovered my 
 determination to embrace Romanism, again sent me 
 
FIRST VISIT TO THE SISTERS. 23 
 
 into the country. Having returned after an absence 
 of a few weeks, I resumed my visits to tlie Sisters of 
 Cliaritj. A considerable change in the appearance of 
 the house had taken place since my last visit ; the 
 parlors were newly furnished, the chapel beautiful- 
 ly adorned, and the grounds of the institution taste- 
 fully laid out. The Superior Sister whose acquaint- 
 ance I had formerly made was no longer there ; she 
 Jiad been ordered to another station, and in her place 
 I found one who, by her shrewdness and plausibility, 
 was well fitted to fill the station to which she had been 
 appointed. With five others she conducted a small 
 day-school, composed of orphan children as well as of 
 some whose parents were well able to remunerate 
 them for their services as teachers. 
 
 The priest was now informed that I desired an in- 
 terview. A time was appointed for the purpose, and 
 as such a visit to me could not be agreeable to my 
 family, it was arranged that I should call at his resi- 
 dence. I was accompanied by a young lady, a Roman 
 Catholic friend, who was educated at St. Joseph's, and 
 made a convert there, she being appointed by the 
 piiest to accompany me, and was received very kindly 
 by the priest, who undertook to inform me fully as to 
 the doctrines and practices of the Church. A few 
 weeks elapsed, during the course of which I repeated 
 my visit to my spiritual adviser, and at length a day 
 was fixed for my formal admission into the Church of 
 Rome. 
 
24 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE "BAR OF CONSCIENCE." 
 
 PeepakaTORY to that formal reception into the 
 Chui'ch which I now sought, tiie candidate is required 
 to make, in the sacrament of penance, a full and gen- 
 eral confession of all the sins of past life, in order that 
 the priest, by this secret and solemn communication, 
 may be acquainted with all the experiences of the 
 mind he desires to guide. This office is conducted 
 tenderly and adroitly with the young convert, who nat- 
 urally shrinks at first from the disclosure of her in- 
 most thoughts and feelings. The kind demeanor, the 
 parental solicitude exhibited by him whom she is now 
 taught to address by the endearing name of father, to- 
 gether with the impression of reverence due to his pre- 
 sumed sanctity and purity, combine most artfully and 
 efficaciously to overcome her timid reluctance. For 
 myself, in the fresh zeal and anxiety of a young pros- 
 elyte, I was not disposed to evade any means pre- 
 scribed for attaining the peace of mind for which I 
 was longing. Convinced of the divine claims and au- 
 thority of the Church, and feeling safe only in follow- 
 ing out the advice of my constituted teachers, I thought 
 
THE "BAR OP CONSCIENCE." 25 
 
 myself but too happy if permitted to hope that in the 
 path they pointed out I could find the promised re- 
 ward. I approached the "bar of conscience" as the 
 requisite medium of preparation for worthily receiving 
 the Holy Communion — the great channel for the con- 
 veyance of spiritual grace to the soul. 
 
 Auricular confession is the chief and most potent 
 appliance by which the Church of Rome gains ascend- 
 ency, and retains supreme control over individual 
 minds and bodies. Without it, she were a powerless 
 mechanism, a huge, inert mass, deprived of its motive 
 power and ruling energy. Take away this key-stone 
 of the arch that supports the gorgeous structure, and 
 the whole edifice, with all its architectural strength and 
 magnificence, will crumble into ruins. It is the grand 
 secret of her success ; the mystery of that tenacious 
 fortitude with which she has endured the countless at- 
 tacks that have threatened her stability ; the sovereign 
 remedy that heals the wounds inflicted by her assail- 
 ants, counteracts the effects of inward disease, and 
 repairs the ravages of successive reforms and vast nu- 
 merical losses. Superficial observers ascribe the influ- 
 ence she exerts to the charm of her ostentatious cere- 
 monies and her imposing ritual ; to the theatrical dis- 
 play and sensual appeal of her worship. These are 
 indeed the agencies that at first attract^ but it is the 
 revealments of the confessional that retain. These 
 are the bands of flowers thrown around the youthful 
 victim to draw her to the altar ; but the ordinance of 
 confession is the sharp hook of steel that grapples her 
 till the sacrifice be accomplished. The robes, the cru- 
 cifix, the pictures, the incense, the mass, the invorca- 
 B 
 
26 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tion of saints, the thousand and one enchanting and 
 gorgeous rites, make up, indeed, an attractive image, 
 apparently possessed of vitahty and vigor ; but con- 
 fession, as it were, completes the galvanic circle that 
 keeps the form erect and active. Detach this, and the 
 figure falls, a pale, corrupting corpse, to the ground. 
 
 Well is this vast potency of the confessional known 
 to the priesthood of the Church of E-ome, and hence 
 the solicitude and the zeal with which it has been up- 
 held and defended. So fully conscious are they of its 
 importance, of its indispensable value, that sooner 
 would they part with any other cherished doctrine or 
 institution than with this, the most useful of all. Its 
 capabilities, indeed, can hardly be measured by calcu- 
 lation. Through its agency the hidden thoughts and 
 tendencies of the mind, the disposition, the temper, the 
 temptations, the weaknesses of every penitent, are laid 
 bare to the inspection of the priest, who may then di- 
 rect and mould them at his will. By this channel he 
 becomes familiar with the thoughts and feelings, not 
 only of those under his immediate charge, but also of 
 all with whom these individual penitents may come in 
 contact ; and thus the wide circles of society are open- 
 ed to his intrigues and contrivances, to make prose- 
 lytes, to confound the enemies of the Church, or to ac- 
 complish other and fouler purposes. Is there a Cath- 
 olic in the cabinet: what state secret remains un- 
 known to the confessor ? Has a Catholic been initi- 
 ated into the mysteries of Freemasonry or Odd Fel- 
 lowship : does any one suppose that these will remain 
 unrevealed to the priests ? Happy, it may be, are those 
 who, in their ignorance, are unconscious of this far- 
 
THE "BAR OF CONSCIENCE." 27 
 
 reaching influence ; for communities and nations would 
 tremble could they but realize the dangers to which 
 they are exposed through the power of the Komish 
 confessional. 
 
28 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MY FIRST CONFESSION AND BAPTISM. 
 
 At the appointed hour of the day fixed for my first 
 confession, I was anxiously awaiting in the parlor of 
 the house of the Sisters of Charity the summons that 
 should call me to the little chapel where I was to meet 
 my spiritual instructor. It was already dusk when 
 the message came ; and following the sister who had 
 brought it, I entered the door, drew aside the curtain 
 that screened it, and knelt on a hassock before a small 
 table, at which was seated the confessor. The chapel 
 was dark, illumined only by the flickering light of a 
 small lamp that burned before the altar, which was 
 decorated with vases of beautiful flowers, while from 
 the wall above it were suspended several exquisite 
 paintings. 
 
 With bowed head, and in trembling tones, from the 
 depths of my soul I poured, without reserve, the feel- 
 ings and thoughts of my whole life into the ear of one 
 whom I considered my earthly guide ; whose duty it 
 was to reprove, instruct, console the subjects of his 
 care with unremitting diligence, until he should deliver 
 up his trust to that God who had commissioned him 
 for the solemn task. ^ly confession made, he breathed 
 over my head a prayer so touching and sublime that 
 
MY FIRST CONFESSION AND BAPTISM. 29 
 
 my faith seemed strengthened and my spirit cahiied 
 by its holy influence. Relief from all those anxieties 
 and perplexities which had long wearied me seemed 
 at length within my reach ; I felt myself raised above 
 the atmosphere of earth, and entering upon a sanctuary 
 of repose whence I had no desire to retrace my steps 
 into the world. 
 
 I was directed to return within a few days for a 
 second confession, and upon that occasion I received 
 absolution. Arrangements were now to be made for 
 my public reception into the Church ; and, according- 
 ly, it was decided that upon "Holy Saturday," or the 
 day after Good Friday, I should be " conditionally" 
 baptized. 
 
 Individuals entering the Roman Catholic Church, 
 if they have been baptized in infancy by Protestant 
 Episcopal clergymen, are not absolutely required to 
 receive the ordinance a second time ; but, lest there 
 may have been some omission in its performance, which 
 would render the rite invalid according to the Romish 
 conception of it, the sacrament of baptism is then ad- 
 ministered by the priest in a hypothetical or condi- 
 tional manner. 
 
 On the morning of " Holy Saturday," without the 
 knowledge of my parents, I left my house for the pur- 
 pose of visiting a Roman Catholic family who resided 
 near the church, and at whose house I was to prepare 
 for the sacred ordinance. A simple white dress had 
 been provided for the occasion, with a long white veil 
 of muslin, falling over the shoulders and reaching to 
 the floor. No ornament was to be worn save a gold 
 cross suspended from the neck. 
 
30 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 The ceremony had been widely made known, and 
 the church was filled to overflowing with curious spec- 
 tators long before the service began. ' The moment 
 having arrived, I passed through the sacristy into the 
 church, and took my seat in a pew in front of the altar. 
 The priest soon entered, and we proceeded down the 
 aisle to the door of the church, where stood the marble 
 font filled with water, which he now consecrated for 
 use in the sacred ordinance. The usual ceremonies 
 were performed: a lighted candle was put into my 
 hand ; I was anointed with oil ; salt was placed upon 
 my tongue ; I responded to the questions asked of me, 
 and returned to my pew a baptized member of that 
 Church whose fellowship I had so earnestly craved. 
 The following morning was Easter, the festival of the 
 Resun-ection, and upon that holy day I made my first 
 communion. 
 
 Did these formalities of profession realize my long- 
 indulged dreams of comfort and peace ? Did I enjoy 
 that complete tranquillity promised by the Church to 
 all who, in the proper reception of those sacraments 
 which are the channels of Divine grace to the souls of 
 her children, repose upon her bosom, forsaking all 
 other trust? I was, indeed, most happy. A deep 
 sense of security in the possession of the only true and 
 efiectual system of salvation filled my spirit with calm 
 and joy. Morning after morning found me low bend- 
 ing in prayer before the altar of the chapel attached to 
 the church where I had taken my solemn vows. Even- 
 ing after evening was spent in pious conversation with 
 the Sisters of Charity, and in rapt meditation at that 
 shrine where I had made my first confession. ]\Iy 
 
MY FIKST CONFESSION AND BAPTISM. 31 
 
 only happiness was now centred in these blissful mo- 
 ments, and again and again did I bless that Church 
 who had thus conquered my affections and taken cap- 
 tive my will. 
 
 But how far removed this security, this mystical 
 repose, these absorbed contemplations, from the spirit 
 and the practice of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 I can now at length perceive as I could not then. 
 That prayerful dependence upon a crucified and risen 
 Savior, which is the Bible Christian's only hope and 
 support ; that conscious assurance of pardon and rec- 
 onciliation through his blood ; those delightful views 
 of his holiness, his condescension, his love, in the work 
 of redemption ; that filial obedience which springs from 
 the strong emotion of gratitude and the desire of self- 
 consecration to his service — instead of these blessed 
 enjoyments of the Gospel believer, I was drawing all 
 my strength from a human and earthly source. My 
 Christ, the object of my devotion, the support of my 
 hope, the confidant of all my deepest interior wants, 
 desires, and resolutions, was the Church. I accepted 
 and trusted, not God's word, but the creed of the 
 Church. I relied upon and rejoiced in, not God's 
 promises, but those of the Church ; my performance 
 of required duties arose, not from the thankful and 
 grateful consideration of the past mercies and present 
 favors of a reconciled God, but from the hope of ac- 
 quiring future defense and safety promised to those 
 who blindly follow the commands and precepts of the 
 Church. It was not from a serious and adequate per- 
 ception of the sinfulness of my own heart ; of the ho- 
 liness and justice of God ; of my danger as a guilty 
 
32 MISS bunklf.y's book. 
 
 :ind sentenced transgressor, that my religious convic- 
 tions proceeded, but rather from a poetic sensibility ; 
 from a weak desire of passive quiet and spiritual inac- 
 tion ; from a purpose to work out my own righteous- 
 ness by deeds of meritorious value, in preference to an 
 humble reliance upon the righteousness of Christ which 
 is by faith. That such sentiments and views should 
 have led me to a temporary delusion in the bosom of 
 the Church of Rome is not to be wondered at ; that 
 they should have given me no permanent and well- 
 founded repose is still less a matter of surprise. 
 
ATTRACTIONS OF THE CLOISTER. 33 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 ATTEACTIONS OF THE CLOISTER. 
 
 It is not in the power of a religion of forms and will- 
 worship to render pleasant and promotive of spiritual 
 comfort those cares and duties which belong to an or- 
 dinary course of life. The intelligent Christian, in- 
 deed, may find in these employments an opportunity 
 of continual obedience, and a channel of communica- 
 tion with his Savior, who enables him, in whatever he 
 is doing, to glorify God. But the priest-taught and 
 governed subject of Rome learns to regard all the con- 
 cerns of earth as contradictory to his spiritual frame 
 of life — as conflicting with that ascetic estrangement 
 from all the engagements of mortality ; that mystical 
 elevation above human affection and emotion, which is 
 the highest grade of meritorious attainment. Thus, 
 either in the first ardor of conversion, or when the 
 false comforts of her system have been tried and found 
 wanting, the Church of Rome whispers to her disciple 
 longings for the perfect holiness and absolute repose of 
 the secluded convent. To be truly " religious^''' signi- 
 fies, in her distorted language, not to illustrate the 
 principles of the Gospel in all those humble but sanc- 
 tified employments that belong to the lot where God 
 has placed us, but to fly from tlie scene of trial, and 
 B2 
 
34 MLSs bunkley's book. 
 
 to abandon the relations of our providential position, 
 and to waste, in a condition of passivity and mental 
 vacuity, the precious moments of probation. 
 
 My religious advisers were not slow to suggest such 
 longings to my mind, and I was well prepared to en- 
 tertain them. Home and society had already lost their 
 charms, and the details of domestic life had become a 
 painful burden. I found delight only in the contem- 
 plative retirement of the sanctuary to which I daily 
 resorted, and in the performance of religious practices 
 which had not yet lost their novelty. I Avas now led 
 to dw^ell much upon the happiness of those favored 
 ones who are enabled to abstract themselves entirely 
 from the temptations and anxieties of the world, and 
 dedicate their time without reserve to the service of 
 God. The cloister, I was assured, affords a safe re- 
 treat to all who would soar above the atmosphere of 
 earthly love, and gaze upon the ]3ure light of holiness 
 and heaven. There I might find, in the perfect love 
 of God, a depth of peace, a complete repose, such as 
 the blessed on high are enjoying. There are natures, 
 I was told — and to these I felt that mine belonged — 
 so exalted in their aspirations, that human affections 
 can never supply the void of their hearts. Often did 
 I hear described in glowing words the condition of holy 
 men and women who had turned all their thoughts 
 away from earth, consecrated all their powders to God, 
 and spent their lives in ceaseless contemplation and 
 adoring love. I aspired to this perfection. At the 
 church, in the chapel, in my daily private devotions, 
 I earnestly besought Almighty God to make known 
 his will concerning me. I desired to devote my life 
 
ATTRACTIONS OF THE CLOISTER. 35 
 
 to liis service ; yet reason could not but revolt from 
 the monstrous supposition that God, who had given 
 me affections and talents capable of use, would be 
 more honored by crushing them within the walls of a 
 cloister, by wasting strength in inaction, by burying 
 the heart in a living sepulchre. If such were his de- 
 signs, then he had created but to blight the energies 
 of his creatures ; and every object of beauty that his 
 hand had formed on earth was made without profit for 
 man, thus to be shut out from the enjoyment of the 
 natural world. 
 
 I indulged not unfrequently in these reflections, 
 and, as usual, opened my heart freely to those whom 
 I had taken for my religious guides. But all such 
 ideas I was told to regard as the suggestions of evil ; 
 as temptations of the adversary, who would fain cheat 
 me of my blessed calling to a perfect and entire devo- 
 tion to the religious life. I was brought to feel that 
 in the service of God the sacrifice of all these earthly 
 considerations was but lightly to be esteemed. Yes, 
 thought I, if this be God's will, I will renounce the 
 world; I will break off every natural tie, and yield 
 myself up a willing offering upon the altar of self-con- 
 secration.* 
 
 * Thus it is that the inexperience and simplicity of the young are 
 taken advantage of, commonly and systematically, by the priesthood of 
 Rome for the accompUshment of their own ambitious ends. "At an 
 age when the heart is especially open to those impressions which may 
 be called romantic or sentimental, the young person is beset with con- 
 tinual commendations of the heavenly state of a nun ; she is told of 
 the innumerable dangers and difficulties that surround those who Uve 
 in this world, and of the ease with which she can serve God in a clois- 
 ter." — Nuns and Nunneries : Sketches compiled entirely from Romish 
 Authorities. London, 1853. 
 
/U) MI88 UrNKLEl's BOOK. 
 
 Two or three instances of the lessons and instruc- 
 tions I thus received will illustrate what I desire to 
 communicate on this subject. 
 
 " Whoever," says St. Alphonsus Liguori, " consecrates her virginity 
 to Jesus Christ, is devoted entirely to God, in body as well as in mind. 
 Married persons, being of the world, can think of nothing but of the 
 things of the world. Thus poor worldlings meet with insurmountable 
 difficulties in the way of virtue ; and the more exalted their rank, the 
 greater the obstacles to their sanctification. To become a saint in the 
 world, it is necessary for a married woman to adopt the means of sanc- 
 tification, to frequent the sacraments, to make long and frequent men- 
 tal prayer, to practice many interior and exterior mortifications, to love 
 contempt, humiliation, and poverty, and, in a word, to make every 
 effort in her power to please God. But how can a married person find 
 the time, the opportunities^ and helps necessary for reflection, and 
 continual application to the things of God 1 The married woman must 
 provide for her family, educate her children, please her hu.sband. [Is 
 this a sin !] The husband must be attended to ; if his directions be 
 neglected, or his commands be not immediately executed, he breaks 
 out into complaints and reproaches. The servants disturb the house ; 
 at one time by their clamor or their quarrels, at another by their im- 
 portunate demands. The children, if small, are a perpetual source of 
 annoyance, either by their cries and screams, or by the endless variety 
 of their wants. If grown up, they are an occasion of still greater in- 
 quietude, fear, and bitterness, by associating with bad companions, by 
 the dangers to which they are exposed, or the infirmities with which 
 they are afilicted. How, in the piidst of so many difficulties and em- 
 barrassments, is it possible for the married woman to attend to prayer 
 or to preserve recollection 1 But would to God," continues this 
 Romish advocate of the monastic life, "that seculars were exposed to 
 no other evils than these obstacles to their devotions, to constant pray- 
 er, and the frequent use of the sacraments. Their greatest mis- 
 fortune is to be in continual danger of losing the grace of God and 
 their immortal souls. At home they must hold constant intercourse 
 with their own families, and with their relations, and with the friends 
 of their husbands. Oh ! how great, on such occasions, is the danger of 
 losing God ! This is not understood by young persons, but it is well 
 known to those who are settled in the world, and who are daily ex- 
 posed to such dangers, Oh! how unhappy is the life of the generality 
 
ATTRACTIONS OF THE CLOISTER. 37 
 
 While I was in Richmond, Virginia, an unmarried 
 Protestant clergyman accompanied me to the Roman 
 Catholic church. The next time I saw my confessor, 
 he said he had learned I intended marrying that gentle- 
 man. I replied I had never thought of doing so. Then 
 he told me I must never be seen with him again, be- 
 cause it brought scandal on the holy Church. He 
 said he had noticed me from the altar, and then, in a 
 threatening attitude, he farther said, " Just let me see 
 you with him again." He continued for some time in 
 this angry manner to scold and threaten me. I was 
 much alarmed ; his violence terrified me ; I burst into 
 tears, and assured him again and again that I did not 
 intend marrying, and I should never think of a union 
 with one out of the Church. I promised to obey im- 
 
 of married persons ! I have known the circumstances, the feelings, 
 and dispositions of numberless married persons, from the highest to 
 the lowest classes of society, and how few of them were contented ! 
 The bad treatment of husbands, the disaffection of children, the wants 
 of the family, the control of relatives, the pains of childbirth, which are 
 always accompanied with danger of death ; the scruples and anxiety 
 of conscience regarding the flight of opportunities, and the education 
 of children, plunge poor seculars into endless troubles and agitations, 
 and fill their souls with continual regret for not having been called to 
 a happier and more holy state. God grant that in the midst of such 
 troubles and agitations many of them may not lose their immortal 
 souls ; and that along with passing through a hell in this life, they 
 may not be condemned to an eternity of torments in the next. 
 
 " The state, then," concludes this holy man, " of virgins consecrated 
 to Jesus Christ, and who are entirely devoted to his divine love, is of all 
 states the most happy and sublime. They are free from the danger to 
 which married persons are necessarily exposed. Their affections are 
 not fixed on their families, nor on men of the world, nor on goods of 
 the earth, nor on the dress and vanities of women. They are un- 
 shackled by worldly ties, by subjection to friends or relatives, and are 
 fer-removed from the noise and tumult of the world." 
 
38 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 plicitly liis commands, and implored him to overlook 
 and forgive this offense which I had unconsciously 
 committed. After a while he became calm, and per- 
 mitted me to depart, saying, in the usual manner, "Go 
 in peace, my child." When I returned to my resi- 
 dence, my eyes were so much swollen with weeping 
 that my sister asked the cause. This I durst not 
 communicate to any one, because it occurred in the 
 confessional. This priest was a vicar-general. 
 
 Another priest once asked me if I were married, to 
 V\^hich I answered in the negative. Then he asked 
 me if I thought of marrying, which I also answered in 
 the negative. "Well, my child," said he, "it is in- 
 finitely better to live a life of celibacy, and escape all 
 those ills," etc., and proceeded to enumerate in detail 
 what he called the ills of married life. 
 
 Such are the representations and arguments which 
 are set forth for the inducement of the young and igno- 
 rant to commit themselves to those "priests' prisons for 
 women," where the security of home and domestic de- 
 fense is exchanged for the oppression of heartless " su- 
 periors," where the gentle discipline of care and trial, 
 which God himself has appointed to our lot for pro- 
 gressive culture and sanctification, is bartered for the 
 cruel barbarities of the whip and the sackcloth, ex- 
 posure to cold and hunger, privation of all comforts, 
 and destitution of all friendly regard ; where the active 
 duties of a benevolent Christian life are forsaken for 
 the foolish, senseless absurdities of idol-worship and 
 works of self-righteous zeal. 
 
VISITS TO THE CONVENTS. 39 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 VISITS TO THE CONVENTS. 
 
 Influenced by these counsels and suggestions, I 
 inclined strongly, before many weeks had elapsed aft- 
 er my entrance into the Church of Rome, toward the 
 vocation of a recluse. But in order fully to convince 
 myself of the attractions of that calling, I determined, 
 with the approval of my spiritual advisers, to visit 
 some of those institutions of which I had heard such 
 praise. In the summer of 1852 I left Norfolk to visit 
 the Carmelite Nunnery, the Visitation Convent, and 
 the "Mother House" of St. Joseph's, that fountain- 
 head of female Jesuitism in this country. 
 
 On arriving at Baltimore, I received a permit from a 
 priest to visit the Carmelite Nunnery on Aisquith 
 Street, occupied by sisters of the order of St. Theresa. 
 I was at once admitted, doubtless in consequence of 
 the fact tliat my inclination toward the convent life 
 had been made known, since visitors are but rarely 
 permitted to enter the walls of this institution. I did 
 not, however, obtain the desired opportunity of in- 
 specting the internal and domestic arrangements of the 
 place, for the Superior was ill and could not receive 
 me. This message was brought to me at the grating 
 of the parlor by a nun closely veiled, and while con- 
 
40 MISS BL'XK ley's JiOOK. 
 
 versing with me she suddenly drew aside her veil, and 
 cast upon me an earnest and searching look, express- 
 ive of the deepest interest and sympathy. I shall 
 never forget the expression of that countenance, the 
 death-like pallor of which showed traces of long men- 
 tal and bodily suffering — indications corroborated by 
 the mournful gentleness of her voice. I did not then 
 connect these symptoms with any idea of the cruelties 
 suffered by the inmates of these institutions — cruelties 
 so well calculated to produce them — for I had then no 
 glimpse of the dark side of the picture ; but I left the 
 convent with emotion as of one who had looked upon 
 a visitant from another sphere. Poor nun! I have 
 never seen her since. Perhaps she is still pining in 
 her cage, vainly longing for the perfume of flowers, 
 and the health-laden breath of the south wind on her 
 pallid cheek. More likely she has passed away, and 
 her only memorial is the mound in the convent garden 
 that indicates the place where her poor shattered frame 
 is resting in the grave, dug by her own hands while 
 living. 
 
 Although at that time aware that the discipline of 
 the Carmelite order of nuns is peculiarly severe, it was 
 not until my residence at St. Joseph's, where I had 
 opportunities of obtaining such information, that I 
 learned the nature of the barbarities practiced by the 
 followers of St. Theresa, under pretext of rendering 
 themselves acceptable to God. A brief statement of 
 these rules may interest those unacquainted with the 
 system, and afford some warning to inexperienced girls 
 against the wiles that might entice them into such a 
 tomb of horrors. 
 
VISITS TO THE CONVENTS. 41 
 
 The Carmelite nuns are required to fast during eight 
 months of the year. This fasting, which is often ex- 
 cessive, contributes to their pale and emaciated look. 
 They wear constantly a garment of hair-cloth next to 
 the skin, which keeps up an incessant feverish excite- 
 ment of the system. During the heat of summer they 
 sleep between woolen blankets, and in the severities 
 of winter they are furnished with scarcely clothing 
 enough to keep them from the effects of the frost. As 
 a penance for the slightest infraction of the regulations, 
 and often as a prescribed religious exercise, the '^^ dis- 
 cipline''' is used, that is, the application of a whip com- 
 posed of several leather thongs to the naked back, 
 with all the strength of the person wielding it. The 
 screams of sufferers under this infliction are the only 
 sounds that relieve the dreary silence of these walls, 
 and have been heard at times by passers-by at the 
 lonely hour of midnight. This " discipline" is often 
 continued till the blood flows at every stroke of the 
 whip. For minor faults the nuns are sometimes re- 
 quired to describe a cross on the floor with their 
 tongues, which may leave the mark in blood, in token 
 of deep humility ; and, finally, their own graves are dug 
 by themselves during life, as a reminder of the hour 
 of dissolution, the approach of which, by all these enor- 
 mous barbarities, equaled only in the records of savage 
 or Inquisitorial torture, is so effectually and rapidly 
 liastened. 
 
 In this convent it was that Olivia Neal was con- 
 fined, and from it she made her escape, only to be im- 
 prisoned the second time by the use of main force. 
 I shall have occasion hereafter to refer to the case of 
 
42 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 this unfortunate victim of priestly violence ; but, as in- 
 quiries have frequently been made as to her present 
 abode, I will here state that she is now an inmate of 
 the asylum at Mount Hope, Baltimore, a hopeless ma- 
 niac, di'iven to desperation by her tormentors. 
 
 Shortly after my visit to the Carmelite nunnery I 
 called at the Convent of the Visitation, situated upon 
 the corner of Park and Centre Streets, in the same 
 city. This is a large building, with grounds attached, 
 and surrounded by an elevated wall. A nun soon ap- 
 peared at the grating, when I handed her a note for 
 the Superior. She directed me to walk to the left 
 door. I heard the withdrawal of several bolts, and the 
 door was opened by some invisible hand, then closed 
 behind me, and the bolts were pushed over the door 
 from an adjoining apartment, separated from that where 
 I now stood by iron bars extending from the floor to 
 the ceiling. This was the convent parlor, and through 
 this iron grating persons are sometimes allowed to 
 converse with the nuns. Soon a nun aj)proached the 
 bars, which formed a partition across the entire width 
 of the apartment, and told me that she would open the 
 door to admit me into the rooms beyond. The bolts 
 were withdrawn as before. I returned into the vesti- 
 bule, and stood at the door where the nun had first 
 appeared. After the removal of several bars and bolts 
 again, this door opened and closed violently behind 
 me ; it was fastened as before, and I could just dis- 
 cern, through the almost total darkness, two nuns, one 
 of whom bade me follow her. I was taken throu2:h 
 several passages to the library, or large room, well sup- 
 plied with books, where several nuns were seated and 
 
VISITS TO THE CONVENTS. 43 
 
 engaged in reading, while others, also with books be- 
 fore them, kept their eyes fixed immovably upon the 
 floor, not even turning to notice the stranger who had 
 entered. I was next taken to the chapel, a circular 
 apartment, with a richly-decorated altar. On one side 
 of the room was a grating in the wall, through which 
 I could distinguish the pale faces of several nuns who 
 were kneeling in prayer, jifter visiting the dormitory, 
 the music-room, and other apartments occupied by the 
 pupils of the academy attached to the convent — for I 
 was not allowed to visit the cloisters — I left, promis- 
 ing to return soon for the purpose of an interview with 
 the Superior, who, at the time of this first visit, was 
 engaged, and could not conveniently receive me. 
 
44 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SUNNY SIDE OF CONVENT LIFE. 
 
 I HAD received from the Superior of the institution 
 of St. Joseph's, at Emmettsburg, an invitation to visit 
 that establishment, of which I had heard frequent eu- 
 losjv, and which I had lono; desired to see. I accord- 
 ingly proceeded thither from Baltimore, and reached 
 the gate of the institution at about nine o'clock in the 
 evening. I left the stage at the gate, and proceeded 
 up the walk. A portress opened the door, and con- 
 ducted me to the strangers' apartment ; as the hour 
 was late, I could not see the Lady Superior till the 
 next morning, and after taking some refreshment I re- 
 tired. 
 
 At an early hour I was awakened by the sound of 
 a sweet strain of music ; it proceeded from the chapel 
 near by. The deep tones of an organ swelled forth, 
 accompanying the rich voices of singers in a hymn of 
 solemn and inspiring melody. I listened in a trance 
 of delight to the exquisite combination of parts and the 
 melodious alternations ; now subdued and tender, sink- 
 ing almost to a whisper, and now bursting forth into 
 a full chorus of perfect harmony, while the anthern 
 would be caught up by some single voice, whose thrill- 
 ing tones, higher and higher ascending, seemed at last, 
 
THE SUNNY SIDE OF CONVENT LIFE. 45 
 
 like the matin song of the lark, to come from heaven's 
 gate, pleading for admission there. It were impossi- 
 ble to describe the impressions made by these heav- 
 enly sounds, thus rising upon the stillness of the early 
 morning, as heard by one already prepossessed in fa- 
 vor of the religious life whose utterance was heard in 
 such delicious strains. It seemed the outbreathing 
 of a joy and tranquillity such as I had so long thirst- 
 ed to experience, the source and motive of which were 
 the holy life and the blessed employments in which 
 those singers were engaged. 
 
 The few days now spent in this establishment were 
 appropriated, at the recommendation of the Superior, 
 to a "religious retreat," as it is termed — that is, a 
 course of spiritual practices, consisting of prayer, med- 
 itation, and devotional reading. During this space of 
 time every attention was paid to me, and every effort 
 made to influence me in favor of the convent life. The 
 condition of a " religious"* was painted in bright and 
 
 * The misapplication of this term, and of other words in the Rom- 
 ish dialect, is ably criticised by a popular writer. " Where a perver- 
 sion of the moral sense has found place," says he, " words preserve 
 oftentimes a record of this perversion. We have a signal example of 
 this — even as it is a notable evidence of the manner in which moral 
 contagion, spreading from heart and manners, invades the popular lan- 
 guage — in the use, or, rather, misuse of the word ' religion,'' during 
 all the age of papal domination in Europe. Probably many of you are 
 aware that in those times a ' religious person' did not mean any one 
 who felt and allowed the bonds that bound him to God and his fellow- 
 men, but one who had taken peculiar vows upon him, a member of one 
 of the monastic orders. A ' religious house' did not mean, nor does it 
 now mean in the Church of Rome, a Christian household, ordered in 
 the fear of God, but a house in which these persons were gathered to- 
 gether according to the rule of some man — Benedict, or Dominic, or 
 some other. A ' religion' meant, not a service of God, but an order of 
 
46 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 glowing colors, and every attraction calculated to please 
 and charm the taste was presented to my view. The 
 very atmosphere of the place seemed redolent with pi- 
 ety, and the inmates encircled, as it were, with a ce- 
 lestial halo. I was surrounded by comforts and lux- 
 uries such as I had not supposed were granted to the 
 members of a conventual establishment ; the table, fur- 
 nished with silver, was always well provided with choice 
 viands and fruits ; the furniture was neat, and even 
 luxurious.* 
 
 In my interview with the Father Superior of the 
 institution, who was a priest from Spain, I explained 
 to him without reserve my reasons for visiting these 
 establishments, and asked his advice respecting my 
 
 monkery ; and taking the monastic vows was termed going into a ' re- 
 ligion.' Now what an awful light does this one word, so used, throw 
 on the entire state of mind and habit of thought in those ages ! That 
 then was rehgion, and nothing else was deserving of the name. And 
 ' religious' was not a title which might be given to parents and chil- 
 dren, husbands and wives, men and women fulfilling faithfully and 
 holily in the world the several duties of their stations, but only to those 
 who had devised self-chosen service for themselves." — Trench on the 
 Study of Words, Lecture I. To vindicate this statement against the 
 charge of being grounded on a mere popular use of the word in ques- 
 tion, the author quotes a decree of the great Fourth Lateran Council 
 (1215) forbidding the farther multiplication of monastic orders. The 
 passage runs thus : " Ne nimia religionum diversitas gravem in Eccle- 
 sia Dei confusionem inducat, firmiter prohibemus, ne quis de cetero no- 
 vam religioncm inveniat, sed quicunque voluerit ad religionem converti, 
 unam de approbatis assumat." 
 
 * The community of St. Joseph's at Emmettsburg, which was found- 
 ed by Mother Seton in 1809, is in the main modeled after the society 
 of St. Vincent de Paul, in Paris, and is the Mother House of the com- 
 munity in the United States. Besides having, like all sisterhoods, a 
 female or Mother Superior, it possesses also a male or Father Supe- 
 rior, who is a priest 
 
THE SUNNY SIDE OF CONVENT LIFE. 47 
 
 embracing a religious life. He encouraged me, and, in 
 order to form a judgment of my religious qualificlition, 
 desired me to make a full confession, commencing with 
 the time of my entering the Church. I did so, and 
 was told that I had a true call from God — a vocation. 
 But it had not formed part of my intention to enter 
 at once upon this vocation, and accordingly I left, aft- 
 er a short and delightful stay, the institution of St. 
 Joseph's, to return to my home. At that time it was 
 my purpose to revisit the place, and enter upon my 
 novitiate within the period of six months ; but cir- 
 cumstances of the most painful nature prolonged that 
 interval. When I left home upon this visit my moth- 
 er was in excellent health. How great was my dis- 
 tress at receiving, before I left St. Joseph's, a tele- 
 graphic dispatch announcing that my dear ir.other had 
 been attacked by the yellow fever, and was already at 
 the point of death. I hastened home, but too late to 
 receive her blessing, or even to take a last look at her 
 remains, the message having been delayed at Baltimore. 
 ]\Iy feelings on reaching my desolate home I shall not 
 attempt to describe ; those only who have experienced 
 such a loss can represent its anguish to themselves. 
 My mother left a babe of twelve months, who has ever 
 since been inexpressibly dear to me. I have but once 
 approached her grave, and then was conveyed away in 
 an unconscious state. But this is a theme upon which 
 I can not dwell. 
 
 When six months had expired after my return, I re- 
 ceived a letter from the Superior, inquiring whether I 
 had relinquished the idea of consecrating myself to the 
 service of God. That letter I left unanswered. A 
 
48 MLS8 bunkley's book. ^ 
 
 year elapsed, during the latter part of which I fre- 
 quently visited the Sisters of Charity at their mission- 
 house near my home. They, as well as my spiritual 
 advisers, encouraged me to go forward in the path 
 marked out for me by Providence, assuring me that 
 even on earth I should arrive at a nobler and worthier 
 life than the world could afford. 
 
 Had I but heeded one voice, however, which warned 
 me to beware, I should have been spared many days 
 of misery and wretchedness. 
 
ENTRANCE AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 49 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ENTRANCE AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 
 
 It was in the month of December, 1853, that, not- 
 withstanding the continued opposition of my Protest- 
 ant friends and lamily, and entirely without their 
 knowledge, I left Norfolk for Baltimore, with the secret 
 purpose of embracing the life of a " Sister of Charity." 
 
 While in Baltimore I was invited to witness the im- 
 posing ceremony of the " taking of the black veil" by 
 a novice of the Visitation Convent. This rite has been 
 so often described that it were needless to repeat here 
 the well-known relation. It is a solemn and impress- 
 ive pageantry, and the mystical character given to the 
 poor victim, the temporary importance to which she 
 is elevated in her own eyes and in the sight of be- 
 holders, and the loud hallelujahs sung over this living 
 burial of a soul intended by the Creator for light and 
 happiness, rob the scene of much of its intrinsic horror, 
 and excite in the breast of many an enthusiastic girl 
 the romantic wish to figure in so brilliant a spectacle.* 
 
 * While the ceremony here alluded to is familiar to many in its ex- 
 ternal and dramatic features, there are probably but few who have had 
 the opportunity of examining the nature of the vows and prayers used 
 on these occasions, as they are prescribed in the Pontificale Romanum 
 — a work little known outside of the ranks of the Romish clergy The 
 
 G 
 
50 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 I arrived at St. Joseph's at about half past ciglit on 
 an evening in the early part of January, 1854. Rain 
 
 following statements on this subject are from the pen of a friend, and 
 deserve particular notice, as illustrating the wicked and pernicious in- 
 fluences which are brought to the aid of a system based upon falsehood 
 and characterized throughout by gross delusion and shameless deceit. 
 
 The most marked peculiarity of this ceremony, writes my friend^ 
 is its mystical character, and the complete confusion of material with 
 pseudo-spiritual ideas which pervades the service. 
 
 After various chantings and genuflections, the officiating pontiff 
 (bishop) consecrates the vestments of the virgins, and blesses their 
 veils. Then he hallows the rings — the marriage-rings — saying, 
 
 " Creator Lord, send thy benediction upon these rings, that those 
 who shall wear the same, being fortified with celestial virtue, may 
 maintain entire faith and unbroken fidelity, and as the spouses of Jesus 
 Christ, may guard the vow of their virginity, and persevere in perpet- 
 ual chastity. Through Christ," etc. 
 
 Then he consecrates the torques, or necklaces, etc. These actions 
 completed, the virgins, arrayed in the consecrated garments, their veils 
 excepted, return, two by two, to the pontiff, chanting as follows : 
 
 " The kingdom of this world, and all secular adorning, I have de- 
 spised for the love of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 " R. Whom I have seen, whom I have loved, in whom I have be- 
 lieved, in whom I have delighted. 
 
 " My heart hath uttered a good word. I speak of my works to the 
 king." 
 
 Then the pontiff, with his hands stretched out before him, repeats 
 sundry prayers, from which we select a few passages : 
 
 " Look down, O Lord ! on these thy handmaids, who, placing in thy 
 hands the vow of their continence, make an offering of their devotion 
 unto thee, from whom they themselves have received the desire to 
 make this vow. For how otherwise could their mind, compassed with 
 mortal flesh, get the victory over the law of nature, the freedom of li- 
 cense, the force of custom, and the stimulants of youthful age (legem 
 naturae, libertatem licentise, vim consuetudinis, et stimulos setatis), un- 
 less thou, God, didst mercifully kindle in them, of thy free pleasure, 
 the love of virginity — didst graciously nourish the longing for it in their 
 hearts— didst minister unto their fortitude 1" 
 
 The following passage can not be given in English : 
 
 " . . . . De largitatis tuae fonte defluxit ut cum honorem nuptiarum 
 
ENTEANCE AT ST. -JOSEPH'S. 51 
 
 was pouring in toiTcnts when the stage stopped at the 
 gate of the yard through wdiich '^ jwstulants^'" or can- 
 
 nulla interdicta minuissent ac super sanctum conjugium nuptialis ben- 
 cdictio permaneret, existerertt tamen sublimiorcs animaj quaj in viri ac 
 muliebris copula fastidirent connubium, concupiscerent sacramentum, 
 ncc imitarentur quod nuptiis agitur, sed diligercnt quod nuptiis prse 
 notatur. Amen." 
 
 One more passage from this extraordinary prayer : 
 
 " Blessed Virginity confesses Him who is her author, and, rivaling 
 the integrity of angels, has devoted herself to the bridal chamber and 
 the bed of Him (illius thalamo, illius cubiculo)' who is the spouse of 
 perpetual virginity, like as he is the Son of perpetual virginity." 
 
 In putting the consecrated veil upon the head of each successively, 
 the pontiff says, 
 
 " Receive thou the sacred veil, whereby thou mayest be known to 
 have contemned the world, as truly and humbly with the whole en- 
 deavor of thy heart to have subjected thyself as a wife to Jesus Christ 
 forever, who defend thee from all evil, and bring thee to life eternal. 
 Amen." 
 
 The virgins, being veiled, sing, " Posuit signum in faciem meam, ut 
 nullum praeter cum amatorcm admittam.''' 
 
 Then the virgins are again presented to the pontiff, two and two as 
 before, by the bridemaids ; then taking the ring in his right hand, and 
 the virgin's right hand in his left, and putting the ring on the ring- 
 finger of her right hand, he espouses the same to Jesus Christ (despon- 
 sat illas J. C), saying to each severally, 
 
 " I espouse thee to Jesus Christ, the son of the Supreme Father, 
 who keep thee undefiled (illaesam). Therefore receive the ring of 
 faith, the seal of the Holy Ghost, so that thou be called the spouse of 
 God, and if thou serve him faithfully, be crowned everlastingly. In 
 nomine Patris," etc. 
 
 Then the pontiff, rising, says, 
 
 " God the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, who hath 
 vouchsafed to choose you to an espousalship like that of the blessed 
 Mary, mother of our Lord Jesus Christ (ad beatce Maris niatris Domini 
 nostri J. C. consortium), hallow you, that in the presence of God and 
 of his angels, you may persevere, untouched and undefiled, in the in- 
 tegrity you have professed, and hold on your purpose, love chastity, and 
 keep patience, that you may merit to receive the crown of virginity. 
 Through the same Christ our Lord, Amen." 
 
52 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 didates for admission into the establishment, enter. 
 This yard is inclosed on three sides by the chapel, 
 
 We shall only add some passages from the benedictions, and the 
 anathema with which this ceremony closes. 
 
 *'0 God prepare them, under the governance of wisdom, for 
 
 all the work of virtue and glory, that, overcoming the enticements of 
 the flesh, and rejecting forbidden concubinage, they may inherit the 
 indissoluble copula of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. These, Lord ! 
 we beseech thee supply with arms not carnal, but mighty through 
 the power of the Spirit, that thou fortifying their feelings and mem- 
 bers, sin be not able to lord it in their bodies and souls." 
 
 Again: "Let the shower also of thy heavenly grace extinguish in 
 them all hurtful heat (omnem nocivum calorem), and kindle up in them 
 the light of abiding chastity ; let not the modest face be exposed to 
 scandals, nor negligence afford to the incautious occasions of falling." 
 
 Again : " God make you strong when frail, strengthen you when 
 weak, relieve and govern your minds with piety, direct your ways, 
 etc., etc., that when about to enter the bed-chamber of your spouse 
 (intratura; sponsi thalamum), he may discover in you nothing noisome, 
 nothing filthy, nothing hidden, nothing corrupt, nothing disgraceful ; 
 that when the tremendous day of the repayment of the just and retri- 
 bution of the bad shall come, avenging fire may find in you nothing to 
 burn, but divine goodness what to crown ; as being- those whom a re- 
 ligious life hath already cleansed in this world ; so that when about to 
 ascend to the tribunal of the eternal king and the palaces on high, you 
 may merit to have protection with those who follow the Lamb, and 
 sing the new song without ceasing, there to receive the reward afler 
 labor, and remain forever in the region of the living." 
 
 The benedictions ended, the pontiff sits down, and publicly pro- 
 nounces anathema on any who may draw away from divine service 
 those who are under the banner of chastity, and on any one who may 
 purloin their goods, or hinder them from possessing their goods in 
 quiet. 
 
 The Cicrse. — " By the authority of the Omnipotent God, and of St. 
 Peter and St. Paul, his apostles, we firmly, and under the threat of an- 
 athema, enjoin that no one carry olT these virgins or religious persons 
 here present from divine service, to which, under the standard of 
 chastity, they have been dedicated ; that no one plunder their proper- 
 ty, but that they enjoy it in quiet. If any one shall have presumed to 
 attempt this, may he be cursed in his home and out of his home ; may 
 
ENTRANCE AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 53 
 
 the infirmary, and the convent proper. I waited at 
 the entrance for one of the sisters, who admitted me, 
 and led me through a porch, and along a dark corridor, 
 into the " novitiate,'" a room occupied by the novices, 
 
 he be cursed in the state (or city) and in the field, cursed in watching 
 and cursed in sleeping, cursed in eating- and drinking, cursed in walk- 
 ino- and sitting ; may his flesh and his bones be cursed, and from 
 
 THE SOLE OF HIS FOOT TO THE CROWN OF HIS HEAD MAY HE ENJOY NO 
 
 HEALTH. May there light upon him the curse which the Lord sent in 
 the law by Moses on the sons of iniquity ; may his name be erased 
 from the book of the living, and not be recorded with the righteous ; 
 may his portion and his heritage be with Cain the fratricide, with 
 Dathan and Abiram, with Ananias and Sapphira, with Simon Magus 
 and with Judas the traitor, and with those who said to God, ' Depart 
 from us, we will not follow thy ways.' May eternal fire devour 
 HIM WITH THE DEVIL AND HIS ANGELS, uulcss lie make restitution, and 
 come to amendment. So be it. So be it." — Poyitificale Romanum. 
 
 Such, American fathers and mothers, are the disgusting dreams of 
 sensuality, the loathsome caricatures of spiritual truth, the horrible 
 mockery of the hoUest relations, which Rome would furnish to your 
 daughters instead of God's own blessing upon a virtaous and useful 
 life ! Such are the heathenish and blasphemous representations with 
 which she would fill their minds respecting that adorable Redeemer 
 whose truth she mutilates, and whose character she insults. " Filthy 
 dreamers, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lascivious- 
 ness, and denying the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ." — 
 Jude, iv., 8. " Having eyes full of adultery, beguiling unstable hearts, 
 they speak great swelling words of vanity ; they allure through the 
 
 lusts of the flesh ; while they promise them liberty, they 
 
 themselves are the servants of corruption." — 2 Peter, ii., 10, 14, 18, 
 19. Such, too, are the awful imprecations she pronounces upon any — 
 upon you — who would presume to attempt to withdraw your child from 
 the barbarous treatment, the close confinement, the unmitigated misery 
 of a forced imprisonment in the nunnery ! Say, then, is there no ur- 
 gent call for such legal provision in this our free and happy country as 
 will secure to these poor victims of fantastic delusions and actual cru- 
 elties the permission and the opportunity to leave these " priests' pris- 
 ons for women," and return to the guardianship of your love and the 
 protection of their homes 1 Answer in the name of God and of your 
 own obligations as parents, as citizens, as reasonable beings. 
 
54 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 or " seminary sisters," as tliej are indifferently styled. 
 At the door of this room I was asked in a harsh tone 
 for the key of my trunk. On presenting it to the sis- 
 ter appointed to receive it, I was told, in a firm and de- 
 cided manner, " With this hey you renounce your own 
 will forever,''^ The words fell like a doom on my 
 heart, and I could not but contrast the severity of this 
 language with my treatment upon my former visit. I 
 was then conducted to the refectory, where a small 
 piece of bread, and some coffee in a tin cup, were given 
 me. I scarcely tasted this food, and soon left the re- 
 fectory with a sister who conducted me to my sleep- 
 ing apartment; We crossed a passage leading near 
 the Superior's room, walked down the corridor to a 
 passage beyond, and ascended a flight of stairs which 
 communicated with a number of cloisters, on each side 
 of which was a row of cells. We entered a room at 
 the end of the passage, containing seven or eight small 
 curtained bedsteads. The sister who accompanied me 
 pointed to one of these, which was numbered, and, 
 placing a dim lamp in a recess near the door, left the 
 room. It was with mingled emotions of surprise and 
 fear that I gazed upon this novel and unexpected 
 scene, scarcely lighted by the faint rays of the lamp. 
 
THE CONTRAST, 55 
 
 CHAPTEE XT. 
 
 THE CONTRAST. 
 
 I NOW presumed that tlie introductory ordeal was 
 finished, and began to make preparations to retire and 
 obtain the rest so much needed after the fatigue and 
 excitement of the day. But my trials for the night 
 were not yet ended. Hearing a slight noise at the 
 upper end of the room, where there was another door, 
 nearly opposite the one through which I had entered, 
 I looked anxiously in that direction. Presently an 
 aged sister, dressed in the "holy habit" — a costume 
 which will be described hereafter — came in, and ap- 
 proached me, holding in her hand a large cup filled 
 with a dark mixture, which she commanded me to 
 drink. I attempted compliance, but, finding the taste 
 intensely bitter and nauseous, after swallowing about 
 half the quantity, begged to be excused from taking 
 the remainder. Placing it again to my lips, she stern- 
 ly ordered me to drink the whole. I obeyed in si- 
 lence. The sister then informed me that she was the 
 "mistress of novices," and had charge over their con- 
 duct and employment, adding, that I must not rise 
 from my bed until called. She then withdrew. 
 
 A strange sensation of bewilderment and stupor suc- 
 ceeded this incident, and I had scarcely strength to 
 
50 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 draw the curtain around my bed, ^Yllen I fell into a 
 deep slumber. I was awakened about four o'clock by 
 the deep toll of the morning bell calling to prayers in 
 the chapel. 
 
 The details here given show the art and skill em- 
 ployed to impress on the mind of the novice the abso- 
 lute subjection to which she must submit, and of 
 which these are, as it were, the preliminary tests. 
 They go to prove that, from her first entrance within 
 the walls of the institution as a candidate for admis- 
 sion into the community, she must learn to obey, with- 
 out hesitation or demur, whatever may be commanded 
 her, as the first step of her initiation. This, if rightly 
 managed, is an important point gained ; for here, as in 
 all other matters, the impression made at the outset is 
 the most lasting and profound. Besides, the manner 
 in which these preparatory injunctions are submitted 
 to, whether cheerfully and instantly, or with expostu- 
 lation and suUenness, must afibrd an insight into the 
 character and disposition of the postulant, of which ad- 
 vantage is taken in future proceedings, in order to ren- 
 der her docile and obedient. In a word, these first 
 requirements are designed to teach the subject of them 
 that henceforth she has no will of her oimi^ hut the 
 will of the Superior is her laic^ lohich must he oheyed 
 even to the slightest particular. 
 
 It was some time after the first beU had sounded 
 that a sister entered the room, approached my bed, and 
 in a low tone said that I might now rise and go to 
 mass, as the bell would ring in a few minutes. I rose 
 and dressed in haste, and then waited for the sister, 
 who conducted me to the chapel, where the commu- 
 
THE CONTRAST. 57 
 
 nity IiacI already assembled. I was directed to a seat 
 among the " postulants," near the sanctuary. The 
 altar of this chapel is of white marble ; above it is a 
 large statue of the Virgin Mary, bearing in her arms 
 the infant Jesus. At the foot of this statue there is 
 usually placed a vase of beautiful flowers. On one 
 side of the sanctuary is a small chapel with a confes- 
 sional-box ; on the other is the sacristy. A narrow 
 corridor behind the altar leads from the sacristy to 
 this chapel; this is the passage for the priests, and 
 those who resort to the confessional. There are two 
 confessionals in the chapel where the community as- 
 semble, another in a small chapel on one side of the 
 sanctuary, and another below, in a chapel on the ground 
 floor, besides a chapel in the infirmary in which con- 
 fessions are made. Those who are too ill to leave 
 their beds are attended by a priest, who seats himself 
 beside them. At the time of a jubilee, or a religious 
 or annual retreat — which lasts from eight to ten days 
 — all these confessionals are supplied with priests. 
 
 I shall, in continuing this statement, be compelled 
 to recount facts and incidents as they recall themselves 
 to my mind, begging of the reader indulgence for what- 
 ever repetition or want of order may consequently be 
 observable in my narrative. 
 C2 
 
58 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE INSTITUTION AT EMMETTSBURa. 
 
 The institution of St. Joseph is situated in a beau- 
 tiful vale about a quarter of a mile from the town of 
 Emmettsburg. The church or chapel fronts upon the 
 avenue leading to the main road. It forms one side 
 of a square inclosing a large yard, on the other side 
 of which stands the infirmary. In the rear of this 
 yard is the building occupied by the community, and 
 beyond it another quadrangle, which is the academy — 
 a separate edifice, connected with the "Mother House," 
 as it is sometimes called, by porticoes and by a balco- 
 ny, over which the sisters pass when going to their 
 duties in the academy. Those inmates who are not 
 employed in the latter institution are not permitted to 
 speak to or even look at one of the boarders, either 
 when crossing the porticoes attached to their house, or 
 while at work in their dormitories or in their refecto- 
 ry. This I was told on the first day after my arrival, 
 during my interview with the Lady Superior. I was 
 also directed to consider myself as henceforth entering 
 upon a new life, so that I must not recognize nor ad- 
 dress as an acquaintance any individual in the acade- 
 my whom I had j^reviously known "in the world." 
 
 After an interview with the Father Superior of the 
 
THE INSTITUTION AT ESEMETTSBUEa. 59 
 
 institution, I was shown over a part of the house oc- 
 cupied by the community. On one side of a corridor 
 paved with brick, upon the first floor, are the commu- 
 nity-room, the novitiate, the Lady Superior's room, and 
 the priest's room. On the second floor are the cells, 
 the retreat-room, an apartment occupied by the mis- 
 tress of novices, and a number of other apartments, two 
 or tlnree of which were often kept entirely closed, though 
 I had reason to think they were inhabited at the time. 
 The walls of the cells occupied by the sisters do not 
 reach to the ceiling. An open space of several feet 
 above them not only aflbrds ventilation, but permits 
 every sound to communicate from cell to cell and to 
 the cloisters. 
 
 The coinriiiunity-T007)% is used by those sisters who 
 have been for eight or ten years members of the sister- 
 hood; prior to that time they occupy the novitiate. 
 There are, however, members sent forth upon missions, 
 who, as will be explained hereafter, have never occu- 
 pied the community-room, having always been in the 
 novitiate. The Superior seldom leaves her own apart- 
 ment. Should she desire to see a sister, the individ- 
 ual is sent for by one who has charge of her room, and 
 who attends at her door. No sister enters the room 
 of the Superior without permission. Should a priest 
 enter while she is there, it would be her duty to with- 
 draw at once, unless told to remain. The male and 
 female Superiors always see each other alone, except 
 in council — that is, in a secret meeting of the Superiors 
 and their officers. When a sister commits an offense, 
 she is brought before the council, and all afiairs of im- 
 portance are settled by these inquisitors at such meet- 
 
60 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ings. I was frequently threatened with arraignment 
 before this tribunal, but fortunately was not brought 
 up for trial. 
 
 A few weeks after my admission, I observed that on 
 every Wednesday, between the hours of two and three 
 in the afternoon, the windows of the novitiate and com- 
 munity-room were closed, and the doors carefully lock- 
 ed. All the " postulants" were then sent to the kitch- 
 en, myself among the number, there to remain at work 
 until the sound of the three o'clock bell. This I shall 
 explain hereafter. This period of the day is desig- 
 nated as the " silence hour ;" it is a season of strict 
 silence ; not one word may be uttered ; the eyes are 
 kept fixed on the work or on the floor. It was some 
 tune before I learned the object of this rule, as indeed 
 of many others — not until I had made my ''retreat,'''' 
 which, as I have elsewhere stated, is an interval of 
 several days spent in prayer, meditation, and spiritual 
 reading. During this retreat, the rules and regulations 
 are for the first time made known or read to the " pos- 
 tulants" by the mistress of novices. 
 
 Those who have recently entered the community, 
 and are called novices or seminary sisters, and not 
 vowed or professed sisters, are nevertheless bound and 
 compelled to keep the vows with even greater strict- 
 ness than those who are professed. The vows of pov- 
 erty, chastity, and obedience are to be observed by 
 those young sisters ; but a priest* may violate his 
 vows with impunity, and the sisters will be constrain- 
 
 * I speak here of the priests of the Order of " Lazarists," or Con- 
 gregation of Missions, which has the same founder with the Order of St. 
 Joseph — the priests being called the sons, and the sisters the daughters. 
 
THE INSTITUTION AT EMMETTSBURG. 61 
 
 cd to obey, being under the vow of obedience, whicli 
 is of superior force to the other obligations taken. He 
 may err, but she will do right in obeying. 
 
 A religieuse can not hold property of her own ; from 
 the moment that she enters the community, it belongs 
 to the Superior. She can not, if at any time visited by 
 her family or friends, see them without permission ; she 
 can not receive or send a letter ; neither can she give or 
 receive any object, even from a member of the com- 
 munity, without obtaining permission. Should one 
 sister desire to give another a small picture from her 
 prayer-book, she must first go to the mistress of nov- 
 ices, kneel, and ask to be allowed to make the gift. 
 Sometimes the request will be granted, at others the 
 article, will be taken from her. Should the Superior or 
 the officers suppose that a sister prefers a particular 
 duty, she is assigned one that she is known to dislike. 
 Often is a sister requured to part with some sacred or- 
 nament even, as a set of beads, or a crucifix, on the 
 ground that there may be a special attachment for the 
 object. The rule requires that particular friendships 
 should be guarded against. One sister is not suffered 
 to converse with another respecting her own private 
 feelings, nor to ask or answer a question, unless in the 
 performance of a task, and that only when absolutely 
 necessary. In such a case it must be done in a very 
 few words, and in a very low tone of voice, almost in 
 a whisper. A sister is not allowed to speak with or 
 recognize another in the corridor, or in any part of the 
 house; but should an officer — one having authority 
 under the Superior — meet a sister, the latter must an- 
 swer in a low tone of voice, in as few words as possible, 
 
62 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 and with downcast eyes. No one is permitted to look 
 through a window, or to gaze around her; she must 
 walk with a measured step, her hands clasped on her 
 breast, and her eyes fixed upon the ground. Sisters 
 are forbidden to look each other in the face ; to do so is 
 a breach of the rules. They may not ask for any ob- 
 ject whatever, and must receive every duty imposed 
 without murmuring. 
 
 When a sister is sent for by the Father Superior, 
 she is generally called by the sister who keeps the 
 door. She pauses at the threshold until told to enter, 
 closes the door, advances, and, kneeling, kisses the floor, 
 at the same time saying, " Father, your blessing." 
 This given, she seats herself and listens to his instruc- 
 tions. When told to depart, she again kneels and 
 kisses the floor, and asks his blessing. This degrad- 
 ing act is performed by every sister when entering or 
 leaving the novitiate, saying at the same time an jLve 
 Maria — that is, repeating once the angel's salutation 
 to the Virgin, "Hail Mary," etc. Those who wear 
 the cornet, a head-dress hereafter to be described, kiss 
 the crucifix which hangs at the side attached to their 
 beads, and say the Hail Mary. 
 
 This prayer is generally said kneeling in front of 
 an altar dedicated to the patron of the institution, St. 
 Joseph. It may be repeated, however, in any part of 
 the novitiate, except near the door. After this short 
 petition, those who leave the room, if more devout than 
 the rest, sometimes turn toward the statue of the saint 
 and make a bow. A sister, in passing the statue of 
 St. Vincent, founder of the order, always bows and 
 says a prayer invoking his intercession. Upon the 
 
THE INSTITUTION AT EMMETTSBURG. 63 
 
 altar in the community-room is a very large statue of 
 the Virgin ]\Iary ; every one bows toward it when en- 
 tering or leaving the room. 
 
 Members of the community are sometimes allowed 
 to have a smaU statue of a saint in their rooms, or a 
 picture of some devotional subject hanging upon the 
 wall ; but they can not keep either without ^permission, 
 and must resign the object if commanded to give it up. 
 This is occasionally done, doubtless as a test of obe- 
 dience. Not a word is to be spoken after the " sdence 
 bell," which rings about eight in the evening. No 
 sister is permitted to take a drink of water after that 
 time; it is a breach of the rule, and will be reported 
 by those who watch, who are placed around the house 
 as spies, to notice every movement and make known 
 all infractions of order to the authorities of the insti- 
 tution. 
 
 When suffering from thirst, it is deemed acceptable 
 to God, and the suffering is offered to the Virgin Mary 
 as an atonement for some past sin. 
 
64 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 EOUTINE OF A DAY — MORNING. 
 
 The daily occupations of the inmates of a "relig- 
 ions house" consist wholly of devotional exercises and 
 domestic tasks. A brief relation of the manner in 
 which a single day is passed will give a correct idea 
 of the ordinary routine of novitiate life at St. Joseph's, 
 and may be of interest to the reader. 
 
 At the first stroke of the bell, which rings at four 
 o'clock in the morning, every novice or seminary sis- 
 ter rises hastily from her bed, falls prostrate, and kiss- 
 es the floor. At the same time, one who has been ap- 
 pointed utters this aspiration in a loud, shrill tone of 
 voice, that echoes through the dormitory, "In the 
 name of God, my sisters, let us rise ;" and as the 
 words resound through the dormitories, the response 
 is at once made, "May the holy name of God be bless- 
 ed!" Should a sister fail to rise at the first sum- 
 mons of the beU, or omit saying the aspiration, she is 
 reported, and is required to do penance as for a great 
 offense. In such cases one sister reports another, and 
 is commended for so doing. All dress with rapidity 
 and in perfect silence, and make their beds ; then pro- 
 ceed down two pair of stairs to the wash-room, where 
 the ablutions are performed without a word spoken. 
 
ROUTINE OF A DAY ilORNING. 65 
 
 Here some have to wait for others, and oftentimes ali 
 this has to be done in the dark. While in the wash- 
 room, a hell is heard in a distant part of the building : 
 this is called the warning-bell. After the lapse of a 
 few minutes another bell is rung near the door of the 
 room. Should a sister leave the room after the ring- 
 ing of this second bell, she is marked and reported by 
 one who acts in the capacity of a spy. 
 
 Each proceeds next to a dimly-lighted room under 
 the chapel, and takes from a drawer, numbered for the 
 purpose, her prayer-book, which she keeps there per- 
 haps with one or two other religious books. The 
 books, however, which a sister may bring with her on 
 entering the institution are generally taken from her 
 to replenish thfe library. A small volume, called the 
 Community Book, or Formulary, is always kept in 
 the pocket : it contains the prayers used by the sis- 
 terhood. 
 
 When all have reached their places in the chapel, a 
 small clock near the door strikes the half hour, and 
 should a sister enter after this period, she is required 
 to go to the mistress of novices, kneel before her, and 
 kiss the floor, in addition to which she may expect 
 the infliction of some farther penance. 
 
 The sister who is appointed to read prayers now 
 says, " My sisters, let us remember that God wishes 
 to be adored in spirit and in truth, therefore let us 
 pray to him with our whole heart, and with attention : 
 In nomine Patris," etc. Then follows a prayer com- 
 mencing thus : " My God, I believe that thou art here 
 present," etc. A prayer is then said to invoke the as- 
 sistance of the Holy Ghost in the performance of the 
 
G6 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 morning meditation. After another short prayer, the 
 first " point" of the morning meditation is read. This 
 " point" is a short sentence, or a few sentences, men- 
 tioning some topic of devotional contemplation, as the 
 circumstances of our Lord's Passion ; the utterance of 
 which is followed by a silent meditation, lasting half an 
 hour. The second point of the meditation is read 
 when the clock has struck the next half hour. It is 
 observed in a kneeling posture, with the body perfect- 
 ly erect and motionless, and the hands clasped in front 
 of the breast. The position is most painful and fa- 
 tiguing, and taxes the powers of endurance to a very 
 trying extent. The slightest movement, while thus 
 engaged, is severely punished, and not unfrequently 
 the poor sister wlio is compelled to remain so long in 
 this attitude of rigid constraint becomes exhausted and 
 faints before the exercise is over. The hour completed, 
 a sister says, "Let us thank God for the graces we 
 have received during our meditation." Then follows 
 a prayer — "I thank thee, O God, for the holy light," 
 etc. Other supplications are added in English and in 
 Latin. Soon the church-bell rings, and the Angelus 
 is repeated. The sister who has been appointed to 
 read says, "Angelus Domini nuntiavit Marine," etc. 
 (The angel of the Lord declared to Mary, and she con- 
 ceived of the Holy Ghost.) The community respond 
 '■'■Ave Maria,^'' etc. Then another sentence, "Behold 
 the handmaid of the Lord," etc., followed by another 
 Ave Maria. Then the sister says, "And the Word 
 was made flesh, and dwelt among us," when every sis- 
 ter kisses the back of the seat before her. During 
 Easter week the Regina Codi (a hymn to the virgin 
 
ROUTINE OF A DAY — MOENING. G7 
 
 "Queen of heaven") is substituted for the "Ange- 
 
 lus." 
 
 When the bell is heard again, a prayer is said, be- 
 ginning, " Pour forth, we beseech thee, O Lord, thy 
 grace into our hearts," etc. Then the " Litany of the 
 holy name of Jesus" is repeated in Latin, several pray- 
 ers follow, together with the Miserere, the Creed, the 
 Lord's Prayer, the Hail Mary, and the De Profundis, 
 which is said for the repose of the last Superior or 
 priest, the directress, and the confessors. 
 
 These prayers being finished, the sister says, " Let 
 us remember the presence of God, and the resolutions 
 we have taken in the meditation we have made." The 
 Superior's assistant then repeats one verse of the V€7ii 
 Creator Sjnritus, and the community respond, the 
 whole terminating with a short prayer to the Holy 
 Spirit. Then the " offering of the chaplet" (or rosary) 
 is made, commencing " Li nomine Patris," etc., and 
 proceeding thus : " My God, I offer thee the chaplet I 
 am going to say," at which words every sister takes 
 her beads in her hands, " to praise and glorify thee, 
 to honor thee ; sixty-three years the blessed Virgin 
 passed on earth ; to beg of thee the grace to imitate 
 her in the virtues which she practiced, particularly her 
 humility, her charity, her obedience, her hidden and 
 interior life ; to comply v/ith our holy rules and vows ; 
 and for our deceased sisters for whom we have not yet 
 satisfied ; for the wants of the Church, of the commu- 
 nity, those of the seminary, and our own in particu- 
 lar ; with the intention of gaining the indulgences at- 
 tached to our chaplet, and for all those for whom w^e 
 are most bound to pray, as well living as dead. I be- 
 
68 
 
 lieve, etc. Our Father. Hail 3klary. Glory be to the 
 Father," etc. 
 
 The morning service concludes with a prayer to the 
 " Mother of God" in these words : " IMost holy Virgin, 
 I believe and confess thy most holy and immaculate 
 conception, pure and without stain. O most pure Vir- 
 gin, through thy virginal purity, thy immaculate con- 
 ception, thy glorious quality of mother of God, obtain 
 for me of thy dear Son humility, charity, great purity 
 of heart, of body, and of mind, holy perseverance in 
 my cherished vocation, the gift of prayer, a holy life, 
 and a happy death." From this prayer it will be seen 
 that the sisterhood at St. Joseph's were a step in ad- 
 vance of the papal infallibility in the acceptance of 
 the dogma of the Immaculate Conception before its 
 ^promulgation at the court of Rome. " F^ Behold the 
 handmaid of the Lord. JR. Be it done unto me ac- 
 cording to thy word. Y. O Jesus ! be to me a Jesus. 
 R. Now and at the hour of our death. Amen." Then 
 the " mystery" for the day is said — that is, a short pe- 
 tition having reference to some part of our Lord's pas- 
 sion, as, for instance, " O Jesus, by thy prayer in the 
 garden of olives, grant," etc. Each sister now kisses 
 the seat in front of her, and the church-bell rings for 
 the first mass. 
 
 Two masses are said every day at St. Joseph's, the 
 second of which is attended by the boarders, and those 
 of the community who are more privileged, being per- 
 mitted to sleep until the "Angelus," or about two 
 hours after the first bell. The first mass being over, 
 the sisterhood proceed in rank, two by two, in perfect 
 silence, to the novitiate and community-room. After 
 
ROUTINE OF A DAY — MORNING. 69 
 
 entering the' novitiate, every sister kisses tlie Hoor. 
 Those wearing the cornet^ however, kneel and kiss 
 their crucifix, bending nearly to the floor, as their 
 head-dress, extending to a point that projects over the 
 face, prevents touching the floor in this ceremony. 
 Then are said three times the Ava Maria, and seven 
 times the Gloria Patri. 
 
 ■ Prayers over, the sisters fall upon their knees, kiss 
 the floor again, and proceed in rank to the refectory. 
 Here all turn toward a crucifix that hangs upon the 
 wall, kneel, and kiss the floor; then each says the 
 Benedicite, kissing the floor ; and seating themselves, 
 they eat in perfect silence their morning meal. This 
 consists of a morsel of bread, often without butter, and 
 coffee and tea served in tin cups. Coffee is the bev- 
 erage of the community, and no one can take tea with- 
 out obtaining permission to do so. No spoons are 
 used ; the tea and coffee are prepared in the kitchen, 
 and poured into each cup as the portion allotted. 
 Breakfast concluded, each kisses the floor, again re- 
 peats the Benedicite, again kisses the floor, returns to 
 the novitiate or community-room, and taking her pray- 
 er-book, places it in the drawer appropriated to her. 
 Each then proceeds to her particular occupation — some 
 to the dormitories, cells, kitchen, refectories, sacristy, 
 cellars, clothes-room, wash-room, and other parts of 
 the building ; and those who teach in the academy to 
 their classes when the bell rings. Silence and " recol- 
 lection"* are required to be strictly observed. 
 
 * Recollection, in French recueillement, is used in the jargon of Ro- 
 manism to signify a devout collectedness of mind — abstraction from 
 the world. 
 
70 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 In addition to all the religious observances and du- 
 ties foregoing and hereafter to be related, there are 
 prayers and " aspiratioiis" to be said at every hour of 
 the day, as follows : Whenever the clock strikes an 
 hour, a sister rises, crosses herself, and says, in a loud 
 tone, " Live, Jesus," and bows her head. Every sis- 
 ter responds, "Forever in our hearts." Then the mis- 
 tress of novices repeats the "mysteries," of which 
 there is a different one for every hour of the twenty- 
 four. These are the mysteries of our Lord's Passion. 
 When this is said, the sister who is standing com- 
 mences a long prayer, " O sacred heart of Jesus," etc. ; 
 after which the mistress of novices makes an " as;pi- 
 ratioi'C^ for the month, and the sisters respond. The 
 sister then resumes her place. Every hour of the day 
 or night the sisters thus "make the hour," as it is 
 called, either orally or mentally, if they are awake. 
 
 The performance of floor-kissing^ in token of hu- 
 mility, takes place, I venture to affirm, at least twenty 
 times in the course of the twenty-four hours. One 
 might suppose from this ceremony that some peculiar 
 and magical property resides even in the senseless 
 boards of this holy institution. 
 
 In addition to the religious exercises thus briefly de- 
 scribed, from eight o'clock in the morning till nine at 
 night an uninterrupted " adoration^'' before the altar 
 is maintained. By this I mean that, during the time 
 specified, some one member of the community must be 
 constantly kneeling at the altar in the chapel and re- 
 citing prayers.* Each sister engaged in this office rc- 
 
 * This perpetual adoration, as it is called, is in behalf of the exten- 
 sion of the conif re'ration of the missions. 
 
ROUTINE OF A DAY — MORNING. 71 
 
 mains for lialf an hour in the attitude of devotion, 
 when, as the clock strikes the termination of her du- 
 ties, another sister who has just entered kneels behind 
 her and takes her place. One of the sisterhood is 
 appointed to see that this adoration be constantly kept 
 up ; and she must so arrange the succession of duties, 
 that they shall not interfere with the other employ- 
 ments of those whom she calls upon to make this ado- 
 ration. Severe penance is inflicted should she be re- 
 miss or unsuccessful in this charge ; and it is a most 
 burdensome one, as I have learned by experience. 
 
 Should a sister finish her work before the eleven 
 o'clock bell, which rings for prayers, she goes to the 
 novitiate, and takes some work from a sister having 
 charge of the plain sewing ; but this seldom occurs. 
 At the first sound of the bell, each must leave her em- 
 ployment and come to the novitiate, kiss the floor, 
 and take her place in rank. Should a sister fail to be 
 in time to take her place in the ranks which are form- 
 ed to proceed to the chapel, she goes to the side of the 
 mistress of novices, kisses the floor, and is assigned 
 a penance for her offense. This penance consists of a 
 number of prayers. 
 
 In passing before a certain statue of St. Vincent de 
 Paul, founder of the order, which stands in a corner 
 of the corridor, the sisters invariably bow. In going 
 to the chapel, as well as in returning, the rank must 
 be preserved, and the sisters thus advance with eyes 
 fixed upon the floor, repeating, at the same time, a 
 "ten of the chaplet," consisting of ten Ave Marias, 
 one Gloria Patri, one Pater Woster, and a prayer to 
 the Virgin, commencing, " Most holy Virgin, I believe 
 
72 Mitiis bunkley's book. 
 
 and confess thy holy and immaculate conception," 
 etc. 
 
 All being assembled in the chapel, each sister kisses 
 the back of the seat before her. The bell rings, and 
 at the sound of it the Superior, or, in her absence, her 
 assistant, says the prayer commencing *' Veni Sancte 
 Sjyiritus, " etc. Then the ' ' examination of conscience" 
 is gone through, all kneeling with the hands clasped 
 before the heart. This ended, the sister appointed to 
 read prayers says, "For our deceased sisters and 
 benefactors, the Be Profundis /" and that psalm is 
 repeated. A short prayer in Latin and one in En- 
 glish, addressed to the Virgin Mary, close these devo- 
 tions, which are called the dinner-prayers. Before 
 leaving the chapel, the Superior, or her assistant, raps 
 loudly, when every sister kisses the back of the seat 
 before her, and takes her place in the rank. Then, 
 with beads in hand, and eyes cast down, saying an- 
 other " ten" of the chaplct, they go to the refectory. 
 Should any disorder occur during this procedure, the 
 delinquent is reported by one of the sisters stationed 
 as a spy for this purpose. 
 
 In the refectory are placed five tables. One is oc- 
 cupied by the vow-sisters, over which the Superior 
 presides whenever she takes her meals in this hall. 
 Habitually, however, she has them served in her own 
 room. Another seat is taken by her assistant, anoth- 
 er by the mistress of novices, another by an officer, 
 and the remaining one by a novice, which was assign- 
 ed to me. Dinner consists generally of soup — which 
 is the chief article of food — meat, potatoes, and bread. 
 Of vegetables a very few, and small variety. No fruit 
 
ROLTIXE UF A DAY MORNING. 7%* 
 
 is ever allowed to the novices, and rarely to the vo^v> 
 sisters, as far as I know. 
 
 Each sister has a napkin at the side of her plaL>, 
 knife, fork, and spoon (which are of iron or pewter), 
 and a tin cup. After the ceremony of turning to the 
 crucifix, clasping the hands upon the breast, and say- 
 ing the Benedicite, which is repeated by the Superior 
 or her assistant, the meal is partaken of in silence by 
 those occupying the tables, while a chapter is being 
 read from the Lives of the Saints, or from a book en- 
 titled Christian Perfection, and another from the Ro- 
 man Marty rology. This reading is performed by one 
 of the sisters, who takes her own dinner when all have 
 withdrawn from the refectory. Another waits on the 
 tables, and, when all have finished, gives intimation 
 of the fact to the Superior or her assistant by a bow in 
 front of her ; then, at a loud rap on the table, all rise, 
 clasp their hands as before, and again repeat the Ben- 
 edicite. The rank is again formed, the Superior go- 
 ing first with her officers, followed by the vow-sisters 
 and novices or seminary sisters, saying, as usual, a 
 "ten" of the chaplet, and bowing when they pass the 
 statue of St.Yincent. As soon as all are seated in 
 the chapel, the bell rings, and each, as usual, kisses 
 the back of the seat before her. Several prayers are 
 now said in Latin, after which the sisters retire to the 
 community-room and novitiate. In the latter room 
 several prayers are said before the altar of St. Joseph. 
 
 D 
 
74 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 EOUTINE OF A DAY — AFTERNOON. 
 
 The prayers after dinner "being ended, the sisters 
 proceed to their respective duties, at which not an un- 
 necessary word is to be spoken. Should any one fin- 
 ish her task before two o'clock, she goes to the novi- 
 tiate, and then may obtain the privilege of conversing 
 until two o'clock, but only upon permitted topics* 
 This is termed the period of recreation. 
 
 To prevent the interchange of thought and opinion, 
 very strict regulations exist on the subject of conver- 
 sation. The only seasons allowed for this purpose are 
 these few minutes after dinner and supper, and then, 
 as I have said, only upon certain topics. Any obser- 
 vations or inquiries respecting the health and feelings 
 of the sisters are especially prohibited. At their oc- 
 cupations or duties no talking is allowed, except so 
 far as may be absolutely necessary for their proper 
 discharge. In addition to this, as will be seen, there 
 are seasons of positive and complete silence, during 
 which not a single word is permitted. 
 
 Before the two o'clock bell sounds every sister gets 
 her Catechism, and takes her seat in the novitiate* 
 
 * It will be observed that these statements of the occupations of the 
 sisters are confined to the novitiate, where I had my place. Of what 
 
EOUTINE OF A DAY — AFTERNOON. 75 
 
 with the work given her during the recreation-hoiir. 
 From two to three o'clock is an interval of strict si- 
 lence. Not a voice is heard throughout the entire 
 building, and not a member of the community raises 
 her eyes from the floor, the Catechism, or the work 
 upon which they are flxed. Should any sister need 
 a supply of thread, or another needle, or a pair of 
 scissors, she is not suffered to ask another sister for 
 what she requires, nor to receive it if oifered, nor even 
 to ask the mistress of novices, who is walking around 
 the room. She must sit through tlie hour without be- 
 ing able to perform the Avork assigned to her, for which 
 very failure she will assuredly be obliged to do pen- 
 ance. In such cases, a sister will often, for fear of 
 discovery by the mistress of novices as she passes by, 
 move her beads, or otherwise feign occupation, trem- 
 bling all the while lest her want of employment be 
 observed. 
 
 During this season the mistress of novices is con- 
 tinually perambulating the room, peering into each 
 face ; and should she observe the eyes of any sister 
 in the least uplifted, or the face raised, she will put her 
 hand on the head, and, with a sudden jerk, force it 
 downward, saying, " Keep your eyes down." Some- 
 times she gives a lecture during this silence-hour, and 
 at the close of it a spiritual reading is performed by 
 one of the sisters appointed beforehand for the purpose. 
 This reading is selected either from the "Life of 
 Christ" or from the " Conferences," of which more 
 hereafter. The sister appointed goes, at the close of 
 
 occurred in the community-room, among the " vow-sisters," I do not at 
 present speak. 
 
76 MISS 13UNKLEY S BOOK. 
 
 the lecture, to a table in the centre of the room. She 
 then receives a signal from the mistress of novices, 
 who nods her head, raises her hand, or raps npon the 
 table, and then says, "i?i no7ni7ie,'' -when the sister at 
 once takes up the invocation, repeating it in Latin, and 
 then adding in English, '• In the name of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ." Then she takes hold of the book with 
 both hands and commences to read. Should any of 
 these formalities be neglected, the mistress of novices 
 advances to the sister and reprimands her severely. 
 
 The "class sisters," or those engaged in teaching 
 in the academy, sometimes come in late, just after the 
 ringing of the bell, being detained by their duties. Li 
 such cases the rules are more particularly enforced, 
 and penance is enjoined ; as also in cases of walking 
 too fast, holding up the head, raising the eyelids, etc. 
 This penance consists in kissing the floor, kneehng be- 
 fore the altar, saying prayers, etc. The Superior and 
 the mistress of novices recommend that, in going to 
 or from their duties at tlie silence-hour, the sisters 
 should be engaged in " saying beads," or repeating the 
 prayers customary in the use of the chaplet. 
 
 In one instance I was late at the silence-hour, and 
 came in with a handkerchief in my hand, as it was a 
 very warm day. The mistress of novices called me 
 to her, rebuked me sharply, and made me kiss the 
 floor, saying that it looked too worldly to have a hand- 
 kerchief in my hand instead of keeping it in my apron 
 pocket. She threatened me with severe penance if 
 found guilty of such an offense again. 
 
 In the comimmitij-room, during silence-hour, the 
 sisters have spiritual readings for about a quarter of 
 
ROUTINE OF A DAY AFTERNOON. 77 
 
 an liour ; the remainder of the time they spend in any 
 kind of fancy-work that they may select. Their eyes 
 are also kept down, but the Lady Superior does not, 
 like the mistress of novices, move about to watch the 
 countenances of the sisters ; ' she remains in her own 
 room, and reads or sews. At this hour silence is also 
 observed in the wfirmary. The sick read some re- 
 ligious book, and sometimes say a " ten" of the chap- 
 let. At the close of silence-hour the three o'clock 
 bell is rung, and the mistress of novices says a prayer 
 called the "Adoration Prayer," the sisters responding. 
 Those class sisters who leave the community-room 
 and novitiate before the close of silence-hour, at half 
 past two, say this prayer before the bell rings, in a 
 small chapel of the academy. 
 
 After the three o'clock bell, as it is called, every 
 sister goes at once to her usual duties. Silence and 
 recollection are observed in doing this, as at other 
 times. The utterance of a single unnecessary word 
 is reported, every part of the building having its spy 
 for that purpose. 
 
 Before five o'clock, those who finish their tasks re- 
 sort to the novitiate, and take sewing from the sister 
 who has cliarge of the w^ork. When the clock strikes 
 five, all in the room range themselves on one side in a 
 row, and one takes a chair apart from the rest to " say 
 beads." Six "tens" of the chaplet are then said, all 
 responding. Then are repeated the Lord's Prayer, 
 the Creed, the Litany of the Virgin Mary ; and about 
 the close of the prayers the bell rings for the evening 
 meditation. After assembling as usual in the noviti- 
 ate and community-room, the rank is formed, and the 
 
78 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 sisterhood proceed to the chapel, where half an hour 
 is spent in meditation and prayer. After prayers the 
 bell rings, and the sisters walk in order to the refec- 
 tory for supper. 
 
 Supper consists of a piece of bread, with sometimes 
 a small piece of butter, and sometimes molasses. Aft- 
 er this meal a " ten" of the chaplet is said in the chap- 
 el. If it be the evening before holy communion, at 
 lea^ as often as three times a wxek, the sisters must 
 obtain permission to receive the sacrament. The mo- 
 ment before leaving the chapel, the vow-sisters kneel 
 before the Lady Superior or her assistant, and say, 
 "Please, mother," or " sister," if it be her assistant, 
 "let me go to holy communion," and then they kiss 
 their crucifix. The Lady Superior sits near the door 
 behind the sisters, and in this supplication they turn 
 their backs to the altar. As the vow-sisters are rising 
 from their knees and forming the rank, the novices, 
 who sit between them and the altar, turn toward them, 
 kneel, kiss the floor, and say, "Please, sisters, let me 
 go to holy communion." On the day before commu- 
 nion, at silence-hour, the novices have also to obtain 
 permission from the mistress of novices in the same 
 manner, but without speaking. Then is said the usual 
 prayer in the novitiate and community-room, after 
 which all retire to their duties. A number of the sis- 
 ters go to the refectories, where the tables are to be 
 prepared for the morning meal. Should the work be 
 finished before the bell for prayers, all go to the no- 
 vitiate and community-room. This is also called the 
 hour of " recreation," when such of the sisters are al- 
 lowed, as after dinner, to converse upon permitted top- 
 
ROUTINE OF A DAY — AFTERNOON. 79 
 
 ics. At eight the silence-bell is rung. The meditation 
 for the following morning is read in advance by a sister, 
 to occupy their wakeful moments during the night. 
 
 I should say that, after suj^per, each of the sisters 
 is required to take her knitting ; no one sits idle for a 
 moment, even dui'ing the so-called "recreation." Aft- 
 er the reading of this meditation, the mistress of nov- 
 ices calls upon some sister to offer remarks upon the 
 subject of the meditation. The sister called upon 
 usually expresses her thoughts in a few sentences ; 
 sometimes several are called upon during the evening. 
 At the ringing of the second bell, at eight and a half 
 o'clock, the sisters form rank and proceed to the chap- 
 el, where night-prayers are said till about nine o'clock. 
 These prayers are similar in a great degree to those of 
 the morning. 
 
 Before the close of prayers, every light is extin- 
 guished in the chandelier which hangs from the cen- 
 tre of tlie chapel, and only one is left — that burns 
 night and day before the tabernacle in the sanctuary. 
 The sisters leave the chapel in the usual order, and 
 retire to their cells. From nine o'clock till breakfast 
 is over on the following morning, absolute silence is 
 to be maintained. During this time it is not allowed 
 to take a drink of water. 'No sister is permitted to 
 see another after she goes to her cell ; it would be a 
 breach of the rule for one sister to see the head of an- 
 other uncovered. While undressing for the night, 
 "aspirations" are said by many, the practice having 
 been recommended by the Superior and the mistress 
 of novices. 
 
 If this narrative of a day's employment at St. Jo- 
 
80 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 sepli's — embracing only the more " spiritual" and de^ 
 votional occupations of the sisters — should appear in- 
 terminably tedious to the reader at a single perusal, I 
 beg him to estimate the weariness of body and soul 
 that must be endured by the poor sufferers of this in- 
 fliction, re]3eated from day to day, from week to week, 
 with scarcely a variation in the monotony of its rou^ 
 tine. 
 
duties" of the sisters. 81 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 Such is tlie procedure of religions observances for 
 a single day at St. Joseph's. Some portions of it are 
 of coui'se subject to deviation for the several feasts, 
 Sundays, fast-days, and other special occasions. From 
 this statement the reader may have obtained a faint 
 conception of the incessant toils and fatigues thus im- 
 posed. But he must take into consideration, besides 
 these " spiritual" exercises, those manual and menial 
 employments in which the members of the community 
 are daily engaged, and which are technically called their 
 " duties." These consist chiefly of those labors that 
 are generally performed by servants in a private fam- 
 ily, but which, in so large an establishment, must nec- 
 essarily be far more numerous and burdensome. 
 
 An "officer," as she is designated, superintends each 
 separate department of the domestic economy, and ex- 
 ercises control over those employed in her service, by 
 whom she must be implicitly obeyed, without murmur 
 or hesitation. The kitchen, laundry, infirmary, re- 
 fectory, meat-house, clothes-room, dormitories, scul- 
 lery, etc., etc., have each its overseer, and those ap- 
 pointed to perform the appropriate duties. But besides 
 these there are the teachers in the academy ; the " an- 
 D2 
 
82 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 gels," as tliey are styled, who watcli over the boarders, 
 and sleep in their dormitories ; and the sacristan, who 
 has charge of the sacristy, church, chapels, and con- 
 fessionals. There is also a sister to wait on the Su- 
 perior, and who is, in fact, her servant ; one to keep 
 the priest's room in order ; and another — a young and 
 handsome sister being always selected for this duty — 
 to carry his meals to him. Each has her allotted task, 
 which must be performed faithfully and strictly, and 
 she must be ready at a moment's warning to assume 
 a new duty, or leave her work when ordered. All the 
 work of the academy and institution is performed by 
 the members of the community, and between these oc- 
 cupations and those exercises already described, not a 
 minute is lost, from four o'clock in the morning till 
 nine at night. 
 
 Some estimate of the amount of individual labor ac- 
 complished by the sisterhood may be drawn from a 
 relation of my own experience. For the first three 
 weeks after entering the institution, I was employed in 
 the refectory, where, commencing after breakfast, the 
 following is an account of a day's duties : Brought in 
 two tubs of water ; washed the cups, bowls, knives, and 
 forks ; cleared off five long tables, and carried the 
 plates, about one hundred in number, to the kitchen 
 to be washed ; swept, and sometimes scoured and 
 scrubbed the floor of the refectory ; brought back the 
 plates, and arranged the tables for dinner ; cleaned the 
 knives and forks ; kept up a fire in the stove, etc. 
 After dinner, performed the same work, and prepared 
 the tables for supper. After supper, washed and 
 cleaned up every thing again, and prepared for break- 
 
83 
 
 fast. At the end of three weeks I was transferred to 
 the academy, where I taught music and French, and 
 worked in the refectory at night. jMy occupations then 
 were varied. Sometimes I cooked and washed, at 
 other times I was employed in the infirmary, waiting 
 on the sick and making their beds, administering their 
 medicines, and assisting in cupping, blistering, and 
 other hospital duties. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that, besides the faithful 
 execution of these requirements, the sisters are com- 
 pelled to be punctual at all the devotional exercises 
 already described. 
 
 The observance of these duties and devotions com- 
 prehends an aggregate of endurance and suffering such 
 as will speedily exhaust the strength and destroy the 
 tone of the most sturdy constitution. Numbers every 
 day are so utterly overcome, that when the hour of 
 repose arrives, it is with difficulty that they reach their 
 cells ere they fall fainting to the floor. What a mock- 
 cry of religion, as well as of mere humanity, to sum- 
 mon so often for acts of worship these poor creatures, 
 whose limbs are writhing with pain, and whose frames 
 are worn out with excess of weariness, especially when 
 so many of those exercises are performed in postures 
 more fatiguing than even the servile duties by which 
 they have been preceded! How can the mind and 
 heart be profitably engaged in circumstances such as 
 these ? 
 
 To illustrate the facts here stated, I may allude -to 
 the case of a novice who fled from the institution, not- 
 withstanding the Mother Superior's assertion that all 
 are at liberty to depart at will, and took refuge with a 
 
84 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 Presbyterian clergyman in Emmettsburg. She had 
 not abjured the Catholic faith, but made her escape on 
 account of her inability to sustain the grievous burden 
 of labor imposed upon her. " She had supposed," she 
 said, "that the institution was a centre of holy influ- 
 ences, and that nowhere else could she serve her 
 Maker with such entire self-consecration, but she found 
 nothing like religion there." So deep was her disgust 
 with her experience of the life in the sisterhood, that 
 she declared, "If to continue a ' Sister of Charity' 
 would certainly take her to heaven, she would not con- 
 sent to remain." It must have been the recollection 
 of great suffering that elicited such language. The 
 case of this novice will be referred to again, when I 
 come to speak of the Mother Superior's letter. 
 
THE " CONFEKENCE." 85 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE "CONFERENCE." 
 
 The order of observances here described is varied 
 on Wednesday by a convocation of the sisters called 
 the "Conference," or "Chapter." As already men- 
 tioned, postulants are not permitted on that day to re- 
 main in the novitiate during the silence-hour, v/hich is 
 from two to three o'clock in the afternoon. They are 
 then sent to the kitchen or elsewhere, to be out of the 
 way, while the sisters assemble in the novitiate and 
 community-room. 
 
 It was after my " retreat" that I learned the nature 
 of the performances on this occasion. The room hav- 
 ing been darkened by closing the window-shutters 
 tightly, so that the only light admitted came through 
 the upper part of the Gothic arches of the windows, 
 the sisters then assembled, and took their places ar- 
 ranged round the room, the mistress of novices being 
 seated at a table at one end near the door. At first, 
 all kneel, and say certain prayers, during which the 
 "class sisters," or teachers in the academy — who, 
 upon hearing the bell, repair tliither from their duties 
 — noiselessly enter, and kneel near the door until the 
 prayers are ended. Every sister not so engaged must 
 be in the room before the two o'clock bell rings. Af- 
 
86 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ter prayers, all seat themselves and take tlieir work, 
 except four or five of the " cornet sisters," or sisters 
 of the " holy habit," nearest to the altar of St. Joseph, 
 which is at one end of the room. These continue 
 kneeling toward the altar, each behind the other in a 
 row, and in front of her own seat. The first sister in 
 this row, after kissing her crucifix and crossing her- 
 self, places the palms of her hands together in front of 
 her breast, and then " makes her accusation," which 
 she does in the following form : 
 
 "My God, I most humbly ask thy pardon, and to 
 you, my sister, I accuse myself of my faults. I ac- 
 cuse myself of liaving walked too heavily, or of mak- 
 ing too much noise in shutting the doors ; of giving 
 my eyes too much liberty ; of not accepting advice in 
 a spirit of humility ; of not being ' recollected,' " etc., 
 etc. After specifying some such offenses, the accusa- 
 tion concludes thus : "For these faults, and many oth- 
 ers of which I am guilty, I most humbly ask pardon 
 of God, and beg you, my sister, that you will please 
 to give me penance." Sometimes it is added, "I ask 
 for spiritual charity in the next conference." Having 
 said thus, the sister, before leaving the novitiate, will 
 take an opportunity to whisper in the ear of a sister 
 whom she may select, "I ask of you spiritual charity 
 in the next conference." 
 
 The first sister, having finished her accusation, takes 
 her seat, and the one immediately behind her com- 
 mences. This continues until all the five have per- 
 formed this duty. Just before the last one has con- 
 cluded, the next four or five kneel in the same man- 
 ner, each, when her accusation is ended, resuming her 
 
THE "CONFERENCE." 87 
 
 seat and commencing lier work. This proceeding lasts 
 till all have knelt and accused tliemselves in turn. 
 Ally sister who has accused herself and has asked for 
 " spiritual charity" in the previous chapter, will say 
 after her accusation, " I asked for spiritual charity in 
 the last conference." Thereupon at once the sister 
 whom she then notified will kneel and say, "In a 
 spirit of humility and charity I accuse my sister of 
 speaking in time of silence," or any other fault she 
 may remember or please to imagine. She ends with 
 these words : " I know myself to be guilty of these 
 faults and many others, for which I most humbly ask 
 pardon of God, " and then resumes her seat. Penances, 
 as punishments, are then inflicted by the mistress of 
 novices. 
 
 Frequently it will happen that in making these ac- 
 cusations the sisters will speak in too low a tone. The 
 mistress of novices will then give three loud raps, and 
 say, "What sister is that speaking?" To which the 
 sister must reply, giving her name. She is then 
 awarded some penance, such as kissing the floor two 
 or three times, as a punishment, and is commanded to 
 speak louder. The sisters will often tremble with agi- 
 tation during this ceremonial. The conscience is at 
 work ; and fears lest they should commit some error 
 in the repetition of the formula, for which they would 
 inevitably be punished, keep them in constant anxi- 
 ety and alarm ; more especially is this the case with 
 those young novices who have heard the expressions 
 but a few times, and are allowed no other way of learn- 
 ing them than by hearing the words repeated on these 
 occasions. 
 
88 
 
 The mistress of novices, before the commencement 
 of this cruel process, opens a little black book, and 
 reads a collection of reports made to her by her spies, 
 accusing such of the sisters as they may choose to im- 
 pugn of whatever transgressions they are pleased to 
 ascribe to them ; and the poor novices, who, perhaps, 
 have never dreamed of the offenses which they thus 
 find alleged against them, are not allowed to defend 
 themselves, or make a word of reply, but must receive, 
 silently and submissively, whatever reproof or punish- 
 ment may be imposed. The opening of this little 
 book spreads alarm and terror throughout the novitiate. 
 
 After the accusations, a small book is taken from 
 a closet, which is read during the remainder of the si- 
 lence-hour. This book contains the rules of the house. 
 At three o'clock the great bell rings rapidly and loud, 
 in remembrance of our Lord, who expired at that hour 
 upon the cross, and every sister instantly falls upon 
 her knees, each holding in her hand her crucifix, gaz- 
 ing intently upon it, and kissing it reverently and pas- 
 sionately ; the " adoration" prayer is then said, and 
 this closes the chapter. Conferences are held in the 
 community-room also, but I do not know the forms 
 used there, nor am I certain that the same day is se- 
 lected for the purpose. 
 
CONSUMPTION AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 89 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CONSUMPTION AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 
 
 It can scarcely be matter of surprise tliat, with so 
 much labor and so little rest, the most robust health, 
 subjected to the life of a convent, should be shattered, 
 and the strongest constitution undermined ; still less 
 will it be wondered at that you.ng girls of weak and 
 delicate frames should speedily prove martyrs to a sys- 
 tem so exacting. Even at night, when the wearied 
 sister, on the hard couch of her narrow cell, woos 
 the " sweet restorer, balmy sleep," to recruit her ener- 
 gies for another day of toil, it is often impossible to 
 obtain repose. Many a time have I been awakened 
 in the depth of night by shrieks and screams that 
 made my very blood run cold. Often have I heard 
 groans and exclamations of distress, and then, in sweet 
 and tremulous tones, the warbling of some poor, heart- 
 broken sister, who, perhaps, in dreams revisited the 
 home of her childhood, but for whom the interests of 
 real life were buried in darkness forever. Again would 
 the silence be disturbed by the sIoav and measured 
 footfall of a priest, summoned, perhaps, to administer 
 the holy viaticum to some dying sister in the infirm- 
 ary. 
 
 One night I was unusually alarmed by a loud and 
 
90 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 prolonged shriek, proceeding from a neigliTboring part 
 of the dormitory, and a heavy fall as of a body strik- 
 ing the ground. Immediately after I heard a person 
 running past my cell toward the passage beyond. The 
 sounds frightened me so much that I was unable to 
 close my eyes during the remainder of the night. The 
 following evening, during "recreation," a young sister 
 who was seated next to me asked me if she could 
 speak without being reported. I looked at her with 
 surprise ; but, seeing that she was pale and agitated, 
 I told her, although against the rules, that she might 
 speak without reserve, and tell me the cause of her 
 distress, promising that I would not divulge it, but 
 would serve her if in my power. She then informed 
 me that she had been very much alarmed the night 
 before, and asked if I had heard a strange noise and 
 a loud shriek. Upon my assent, she stated that about 
 midnight she had been awakened by a heavy step 
 around the bed, and was so frightened that she could 
 scarcely breathe. As soon as the sound had ceased, 
 she felt something heavy at the foot of her bed, when 
 she uttered a scream, and the person, or fiend, for she 
 knew not which, rolled heavily to the floor, and, utter- 
 ing a wild, demoniacal yell, fled rapidly down the clois- 
 ter. So much had these occurrences terrified her, that 
 she dreaded retiring to her cell, and was in a constant 
 state of agitation and fear. 
 
 The very next night I heard a shriek, if possible, 
 louder than the previous one. The following day I 
 learned from a young sister that some one, at midnight, 
 had walked round her bed several times, after which 
 she had felt a pair of hands seize her by the throat, 
 
CONSUMPTION AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 91 
 
 nearly stifling her for a moment, whereupon she utter- 
 ed the scream I had heard. 
 
 ]\Iany an hour have I remained awake, revolving in 
 my mind occurrences like these, for which I vainly en- 
 deavored to account. But more distressing than these 
 frightful sounds was one far more common : the pain- 
 ful cough of the consumptive, which from more than 
 one cell would be heard, announcing the presence of 
 that fearful disease, elsewhere so dreaded, but here in- 
 vited, and rendered almost inevitable by the course of 
 life prescribed. I was told, and it was generally taught, 
 that consicmjHion is a j)^i^i'i of the vocation. Some- 
 times I have found it out of the question to obtain an 
 hour's repose, in consequence cf the continual cough 
 of some poor sister, who, wearied with the arduous 
 duties imposed upon her during the day, would reach 
 her cell with the help of others, in a few days more to 
 be ordered to the infirmary, linger a little longer, re- 
 ceive the last sacraments, then welcome death as a re- 
 lease from her sufferings, and be carried to the grave- 
 yard near at hand. 
 
 One evening, while ascending the steps to my cell, 
 I noticed a sister leaning against the wall as if for sup- 
 port, and breathing heavily. I imagined her unable to 
 reach her cell, but could not speak, as it was silence- 
 hour. Unwilling to pass her without notice, I offered 
 my arm, which she accepted, and I assisted her to her 
 cell. The following day she was sent to the infirmary, 
 and soon after died. 
 
 Numbers die at the institution every year. I know 
 of fourteen who died during the ten months of my stay 
 in the community, and I saw at least twenty recent 
 
92 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 graves before I left. They are buried in regular rows. 
 There are four infirmaries, in one of which there are 
 several insane sisters. There is one for the old and 
 infirm, who are totally unable to go about the institu- 
 tion, and who sometimes, though with great difficulty, 
 reach the choir, which is very near, where they per- 
 form their devotions. The large infirmary connected 
 with the house, though a separate building, is filled 
 with the sick and the dying. It is divided into two 
 departments : the lower, on the first floor, being occu- 
 pied by the young sisters or novices ; the upper, in 
 the second story, by the vovr or professed sisters. In 
 this department there is a small chapel, where confes- 
 sions are made by those who are unable to go to church 
 or to any of the confessionals. 
 
 The lower infirmary is a large room, on each side 
 of which is a row of small curtained bedsteads, about 
 seven in number. At the end of a passage leading- 
 past the entrance to this room, there is a very small 
 passage at right angles, connecting with a room where 
 those who die in this infirmary are laid out. At the 
 other end of the infirmary is a passage, on one side 
 of which there are two doors, one leading to the refec- 
 tory, and the other to the kitchen. On the opposite 
 side is a store-room, where provisions are kept in small 
 quantities for those who occupy the infirmary. In 
 this passage a flight of stairs leads to tlie upper in- 
 firmary. At the top of these stairs, on the right, there 
 is a sitting or work room for those sisters who, though 
 ill, are permitted to walk about the upper infirmary — 
 that is, to go from their apartments to the chapel, 
 work-room, and medicine-room. JMany of the profess- 
 
CONSUMPTION AT 8T. JOSEPH'S. 93 
 
 ed sisters are allowed to take their meals in the in- 
 firmary on account of loss of appetite and impaired 
 health, caused by the Avant of better fare. 
 
 The rules of the infirmary are framed and hung up 
 in the work-room. Whoever transgresses these rules 
 is reported by the " infirmarian," her assistant, and 
 others. These rules are substantially as follows : 
 
 No sister is allowed to enter the infirmary without 
 permission from the Superior, or other officer of the 
 community. When entered, she must at once see the 
 infirmarian, and act according to her directions. 
 
 She must ask for nothing, but receive wdiatever is 
 given her without a murmur. 
 
 She must observe strictly the community rules — 
 that is, must repeat her prayers, keep silence, and re- 
 frain from speaking to any other sick sister without 
 permission. 
 
 When sent to bed, she is not to rise without per- 
 mission, nor leave the infirmary unless directed to do 
 so. 
 
 Those sisters who are allowed to take their meals 
 in the infirmary-refectory are not permitted, when 
 passing through the building, to speak to a sister who 
 is sick, but must walk with eyes cast down, and hands 
 folded across their breasts. 
 
94 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FIEST INDICATIONS OF DISFAVOE, 
 
 I HAD been in the community about two months 
 when a letter from my family was received by the Su- 
 perior. It was handed or sent by her to the mistress 
 of novices for perusal in the novitiate. When the mis- 
 tress of novices had finished reading the letter, she 
 called me to her. I instantly obeyed, fell on my knees 
 before her, and kissed the floor. She then told me 
 that she had a letter for me from my family, and would 
 not give it to me, but would read a few sentences of 
 it aloud. She did so, and I was unable to control my 
 emotion, or to restrain the tears that rushed to my 
 eyes. Seeing me so agitated, she became very angry 
 — for it is esteemed a step toward perfection to sup- 
 press all demonstration of feeling — and seizing me by 
 the shoulders while I was kneeling before her, she 
 threw me violently backward. My head striking the 
 floor, I became insensible, and was taken, as I after- 
 ward learned, to the infirmary, where I was report- 
 ed by the mistress of novices as detained by "ill 
 health." 
 
 After leaving the infirmary, I was looked upon with 
 an inquiring glance by many, who would fain have 
 asked me respecting my health, but neither they nor I 
 
FIEST INDICATIONS OF DISFAVOK. 95 
 
 durst utter a word on the subject. It is positively for- 
 bidden to say any thing relative to one's feelings, or 
 to make inquiries about any one who has been sent to 
 the infirmary. Should any thing occur there, it is not 
 to be spoken of in the novitiate or community-room ; 
 nor is any thing that happens in those rooms to be 
 repeated in the infirmary. 
 
 Sometimes we would miss a sister for several days 
 together ; but we did not know where she was, and 
 were not permitted to ask after her. It is forbidden to 
 notice when any person comes or goes, or to inquire 
 why such a sister is removed from one place to anoth- 
 er ; and before we would have farther tidings, she 
 might be dying or dead in the infirmary without our 
 knowledge. 
 
 But it was not long before other occurrences made 
 me conscious of the fact that I had incurred the dis- 
 pleasure of my superiors, and that I must expect the 
 strictest surveillance and punishment for the least 
 omission of duty or infraction of the rules. Uninten- 
 tional errors, such as in others would be overlooked, 
 were sure to be visited upon me ; and every word I 
 uttered was duly reported by spies set to watch my 
 conduct. One evening, exhausted by the labor under- 
 gone during the day, as I was carrying a tub of water 
 from the kitchen to the refectory, I remarked to a sis- 
 ter, "How very hard we have to work!" This was, 
 of course, reported to the Superior. While at break- 
 fast on the following morning, I was sent for to come 
 to her room. I went, and found her much displeased. 
 She threatened me with condign punishment in case 
 another word of complaint were spoken relative to the 
 
96 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 igaiii 
 
 labor imposed. She said that "if I should ever i 
 complain, I would get myself into trouble." I left her 
 room with the determination to be silent in future. At 
 this period I did not know the rules, having not yet 
 made my retreat. I was often rebuked, and more 
 than once threatened with arraignment before the 
 " council" by the sister who had charge of the refec- 
 tory. 
 
 One night, having been sent by the mistress of 
 novices to the iniirmary on account of some indisposi- 
 tion during the day, I asked permission of the " in- 
 firmarian" to retire before night-prayers, being unfit 
 for the fatigue of kneeling during such a length of time. 
 She answered, " No ; I had come thither to suffer 
 and do penance," and might return to the infirmary 
 after prayers. I did so, but was told that I must rise 
 from my bed at the ringing of the first bell — at four 
 in the morning — and must attend morning-prayers and 
 the first mass. This infirmarian was ere long, how- 
 ev(ir, succeeded by a new one, to the great satisfaction 
 of the young novices, as she did not enforce the rules 
 with the strictness of her predecessor. 
 
 One evening, about this time, after duties, having 
 been sent to the infirmary to watch by the bedside 
 of a sister who was very ill, I noticed in a bed near by 
 a young sister apparently dying of consumption. She 
 was beautiful ; her large dark eyes shone with un- 
 earthly brilliancy ; her face was very pale, save one 
 bright spot on each cheek, that spoke plainly of her 
 approaching doom. Once or twice I noticed that she 
 sighed lieavily ; and, watching her more closely, I dis- 
 covered the tears trickling down her cheeks. My 
 
FIRST INDICATIONS OF DISFAVOR. 97 
 
 sympathy was roused, and, crossing the room to her 
 bedside, I inquired how long she had been in the in- 
 'iirmary, and whether she were improving. She had 
 been there, she said, all winter, and v\".s no better. 
 Raising her hand, which was covered with a handker- 
 chief, she told me that she was in great suffering. I 
 saw that the hand had been opened, as by a surgical 
 operation. She did not know why it had been done, 
 and felt sure that she would lose it. A few days later 
 she was sent aAvay from the institution, nor did I learn 
 for some months after where she was. I shall have 
 occasion to speak again of this sister in another place. 
 
 The Lady Superior, mistress of novices, and infirm- 
 arian had, particularly the two latter, since the recep- 
 tion of the letter from my home, manifested toward 
 me a severity of character which alarmed me. The 
 Lady Superior, even in her rebukes, would usually 
 close by some mild and persuasive remark, vdiich went 
 far to alleviate my wounded pride and lacerated feel- 
 ings. I had no reason to believe that she had any 
 hostile feeling toward me, except on account of my ev- 
 ident and still strong attachment to my family. 
 
 The treatment I received, however, produced a great 
 change in my outward conduct. Fear, a sense of duty, 
 and the cherished hope of obtaining permission to de- 
 part, all combined to induce me, at least apparently, 
 to submit with perfect patience and resignation to the 
 will and wishes of my superiors ; and although my 
 heart ached for tliat lovely and suffering sister, and 
 my curiosity was aroused to the utmost to know more 
 of her, yet I dared not prolong the interview at this 
 time for fear of the infirm arian. 
 E 
 
98 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE ILLUSION AND THE EEALITY. 
 
 Having made my retreat as a postulant, wlieTi, for 
 the first time, I learned and fully comprehended the 
 nature of the sacrifice demanded of me, I saw that 
 the chief requirement was an abject submission to the 
 will and commands of the superiors in every respect ; 
 that then: dictates must be regarded with the same 
 reverence as the voice of God himself ; that the high- 
 est holiness was made to consist in an entire surren- 
 der to their control — physically, spiritually, and mor- 
 ally, as to the Almighty ; that this obedience required 
 a renunciation of father, mother, sister, and brother ; in 
 whose stead the Father and Mother Superiors of the 
 institution, the members of the community, and the 
 priest, must thenceforth be regarded with filial and 
 sisterly devotion; that every afiection of the heart 
 must be stifled, every earthly tie broken, and an eter- 
 nal farewell bidden to home, friends, and country. 
 
 As these considerations crowded upon my mind, I 
 became terrified at the prospect. I determined to 
 write home and declare that my resolution was alter- 
 ed, and that I no longer desired to follow the life of a 
 Sister of Charity. 
 
 It did not occur to me for a moment that any obsta- 
 
THE ILLUSION AND THE EEALITY. 99 
 
 cle would be interposed to prevent my withdrawal from 
 the community. I had been told that this was not a 
 " close convent ;" and even from such it i?> publicly de- 
 clared that a novice is at liberty to depart at any time 
 before assuming the black veil. I was still attached 
 to the Roman Catholic faith, but I found it impossible 
 to reconcile myself to the idea of subjecting my will 
 and affections to the slavery enforced by the vows of 
 the society. I was self-convinced that my " vocation" 
 for such a life was a figment of the imagination, and 
 that my spiritual welfare Vv^ould not be promoted by a 
 forced obedience to rules abhorrent to my nature. 
 But, alas I I was soon made to feel that already the 
 chains of a cruel servitude had bound me hand and 
 foot ; that already I was under the full control of a 
 heaj'tless organization, whose only motives of action 
 were its own aggrandizement, and a base subserviency 
 to the ambition of an unscrupulous priesthood. 
 
 In accordance with the resolution thus formed, a 
 few days before the time appointed for my reception 
 into the sisterhood, I wrote to my father announcing 
 my intention to withdraw from the institution and re- 
 turn home. This letter, as is customary, was read by 
 the mistress of novices, and afterward submitted to the 
 Mother Superior. I was soon summoned to her pres- 
 ence, where, on my knees, I was asked, sternly, why I 
 had perpetrated such a piece of folly. I told her, in 
 brief and respectful terms, of the change in my views, 
 and of my desire to return home. 
 
 No sympathizing reply, nor even a mild dissuasion, 
 followed this statement ; but, to my astonishment, the 
 Mother Superior, tearing the letter to pieces and throw- 
 
100 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ing the fragments into a stove near by, harshly an- 
 swered that, having renounced my own will in this 
 matter, I must persevere to the end for the good of 
 my soul, and God would bless my determination. No 
 remonstrance on my part was listened to, but I was 
 compelled to write another letter, at her dictation^ de- 
 claring my happiness in my present condition, and my 
 entire contentment with it, and adding that I would 
 accordingly remain and make my vows at the institu- 
 tion. I was completely cowed, and obeyed in fear and 
 trembling, with the certainty that even if I should then 
 resist, I should be finally constrained by punishment 
 to obey. How trying the alternative ! What more 
 painful and revolting to the feelings of a daughter than 
 thus to be compelled to write a lie to her parent — to 
 persuade the loved ones at home that she was happy 
 and contented, when her heart was torn with anguish, 
 and when the first symptoms of despair, like a gather- 
 ing cloud, shut out those bright anticipations she had 
 been forming of a speedy reunion with the family cir- 
 cle. I retired from the interview with sensations that 
 no language can express, and such as I trust never to 
 experience again. That night was spent in silent 
 tears and bitter thoughts. 
 
 • After this rebuff, a settled feeling of despondency 
 took possession of my mind, though I was constrain- 
 ed, through fear of punishment, to avoid a betrayal of 
 my sentiments. My highly-wrought expectations had 
 vanished; my prospects of happiness were scattered 
 to the winds. At this time, too, my faith in popery 
 received a shock; my eyes were partially opened to 
 the rashness of forsaking the church of my fathers, 
 
THE ILLUSION AND THE KEALITY. 101 
 
 and attaching myself to a system whose crooked poli- 
 cy was now in process of development "before me. An 
 honest self-examination, serious reflection, and the in- 
 fluence of events that followed this first display of in- 
 trigue and deception, completely uprooted every ves- 
 tige of my previous preferences, and enabled me both 
 to appreciate my own folly and to perceive the distort- 
 ed lineaments concealed under the attractive mask that 
 h'ad allured me. If I have suffered — and God only 
 knows how poignantly — from the injustice and malev- 
 olence of my oppressors, still am I deeply grateful that 
 these sorrows should have been the means of awaken- 
 ing me to a sense of my error, and of disclosing the 
 truth in its purity to my perception. 
 
 All this, however, did not take place at once ; and 
 though, as I have said, my enthusiastic anticipations 
 disappeared, and a thick cloud overspread my spirit, 
 there came as yet no thought of rebellion against the 
 control of my superiors. I resolved to perform the 
 duties allotted me, and submit patiently to the conse- 
 quences of my own rashness, until, as I still vainly 
 hoped, I should be permitted to depart in peace. Not 
 the remotest idea of escape was then cherished, and it 
 was not till circumstances occurred, the recollection of 
 which even now causes an involuntary shudder, that I 
 was rendered desperate, and determined to brave ev- 
 ery consequence, and even death itself, sooner than re- 
 main incarcerated in a prison such as this. 
 
102 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 POOR JULIA. 
 
 I HAVE said that disease and death are "busy actors 
 among the inmates of St. Joseph's. Consumption, that 
 dread yet insidious foe of the young and innocent, 
 steahng, Hke the tiger of the jungles, with noiseless 
 step and remorseless purpose on its unsuspecting vic- 
 tim, and fastening its deadly grasp ere the approach 
 be suspected, makes sad ravages here. Worn out 
 with incessant toil, and with an unremitting observ- 
 ance of the oppressive routine of useless forms ; sub- 
 ject, also, to frequent exposures to changes of temper- 
 ature, not only in passing over the porches to and from 
 the academy, but also from a frequent lack of clothing, 
 and sleeping in cold cells without sufficient covering, to 
 say nothing of the effects of sudden prostration of the 
 body upon the cold floor at four o'clock every morning, 
 it is no wonder that the sisters, and especially those 
 of them who are most conscientious in the discharge 
 of their laborious duties, should often fall a prey to 
 this fell destroyer. 
 
 But a short time after my admission to the sister- 
 hood, I entered the novitiate one morning at an earlier 
 hour than usual, and saw a sister sitting before a ta- 
 ble with her head resting upon her hands, and violently 
 
POOR JULIA. 103 
 
 weeping. No one being present, I went up to her, and 
 kneeling at her side, asked affectionately why she wept 
 so bitterly. She answered that the cause of her sor- 
 row could not be revealed ; that she would fain speak 
 to me without reserve, but could not do so ; and add- 
 ed, " Sister, I was for many years a boarder here, and 
 received my education from the sisterhood ; but I did 
 not dream of what a religious life is. I can not tell 
 you how I have been deceived. I do not care to live." 
 Hearing steps in the adjoining corridor, we separated 
 for fear of being observed, and at her request I left by 
 a side door. 
 
 This young lady was the daughter of a wealthy 
 Southerner, who had placed her at an early age in the 
 academy, where she had remained several years, ac- 
 quiring all those accomplishments that were suited to 
 fit her for the sphere of society in which she was ex- 
 pecting to move. Having completed her studies, and 
 spent a couple of years at home, she urged her father 
 to permit her to revisit with him the peaceful vale 
 where she had passed so many happy days of her 
 childhood. As he intended to take her younger sisters 
 to the same institution for their education, he consent- 
 ed that this eldest daughter should accompany them, 
 and ymake a short stay at the institution. Her pur- 
 pose in this request was to enter the sisterhood, should 
 opportunity present itself; but this design was, of 
 course, concealed from her father, who would have op- 
 posed it at once. Upon arriving at St. Joseph's, the 
 daughter spent much time in the company of those 
 who, no doubt, had persuaded her to embrace this 
 resolution, and on the eve of the father's departure it 
 
104 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 was for tlie first time made known to liim. Upon 
 hearing of lier determination, he became greatly dis- 
 pleased, and demanded that she should be called to 
 speak with him, but he was told that he could not see 
 her, as she had gone over to the house occupied by the 
 sisterhood. There her beautiful long hair was severed 
 from her head, and sent to her father as a parting gift, 
 and the white cap of the postulant was put on. A 
 few weeks elapsed ; her health began to fail, and soon 
 after becoming a novice she was so unwell as fre- 
 quently to be sent to the infirmary. Often, Avhen com- 
 ing v/ith. her from our duties in tlie academy, have I 
 seen her cling to the railing of the porches for support, 
 while the tears were streaming from her eyes. 
 
 Though unable at first to draw from her the cause 
 of her distress, at length, one evening, as I urged, her 
 to confide in me, she took from her pocket a tiny stock- 
 ing, and said, with much emotion, "This is the only 
 relic I have of my little baby brother." She had 
 brought him with her to the institution, as she could 
 not bear the thought of parting with him at home. 
 "It was a bitter trial, sister," she continued, "when 
 my mother died, a year before I entered the communi- 
 ty ; but it is harder yet for me to give up all hope of 
 ever seeing my little brother again." 
 
 A few days after this conversation I missed her 
 from the novitiate, and learned that she had been sent 
 to the infirmary. I asked permission of the mistress 
 of novices to visit her, scarcely expecting, however, 
 that I should be allowed to do so. To my surprise, 
 leave was granted for a short interview. I found the 
 sister in bed, supported by pillows, her face flushed 
 
POOR JULIA. 
 
 105 
 
 with fever, and evidently in deep distress. No one 
 being near us at the moment, I took her slender hand, 
 thin almost to transparency, and asked if she were 
 better. "No, my dear sister," she replied; " I am 
 worse ; I am dying ;" and she inquired whether I too 
 were sick and had come for medicine. '| Do not take 
 a cold, sister, for it is always fatal lierer 
 
 I could remain but a short time, and when I left, 
 promised to seek a speedy opportunity of visiting her 
 again. A week or two passed, during which I made 
 many mquiries concerning her health, but could learn 
 nothing. When again allowed to see her, I was alarm- 
 ed at the change a few days had wrought. She was 
 then but the shadow of her former self, and could 
 scarcely speak above a whisper. Since her first ill- 
 ness she had refused to take any nourishment, or any 
 thing that was thought calculated to afford rehef. 
 She would wipe the blood from her lips, and, smiling 
 sadly, say to me, " I shall soon be gone, and my poor 
 father will not know of my death." 
 
 One evening, as I was passing tlirough the infirma- 
 ry, carrying a message from the mistress of novices, 
 she called me, and though it was a breach of the rules, 
 I went to her bedside. She requested me to hand 
 her her knitting. I refused to do so, as she was scarce- 
 ly able, from extreme debility, to raise her hands. Said 
 she, " Sister, did I say my work? mine? What is 
 mine ?" Then making an effort to rise from her bed, 
 she fell back fainting on her pillow. When conscious- 
 ness returned, she burst into a flood of tears, crying, 
 " My poor father ! my mother !" 
 
 She was ill two months, during which time she did 
 E 2 
 
106 MISS buis'kley's book. 
 
 not rise from her bed. She would often say to the 
 infirmarian, " Sister, what is the matter with me ? 
 Please to tell me." The evening of her death she had 
 several convulsions, and after recovering, asked where 
 she had been. She then said to one of the officers at 
 her bedside that she had seen her mother, who had 
 come for her, and she could stay no longer. The of- 
 ficer, supposing that she alluded to the Mother Supe- 
 rior, was about to send in haste for her. "No," ex- 
 claimed the poor sister, " I mean my own dear moth- 
 er." The words had scarcely passed her lips when 
 she expired, without having received the last sacra- 
 ment or made her vows. 
 
 She was laid out in her novice's dress ; her beads 
 and crucifix were laid upon her breast. As usual, a 
 sister watched by the corpse until morning, when mass 
 was said for the repose of her soul. She was placed 
 in a plain wooden coffin, of dark color, and beautiful 
 indeed was this unfortunate girl in death. A white 
 rose had been laid upon her bosom by some member 
 of the community, perhaps by the sister whom I over- 
 heard making the following remark, which showed that 
 she at least was not utterly devoid of feeling: "Yes," 
 she murmured, gazing upon the fair remains, "she 
 came to us a bud ; now she has gone, a rose in perfect 
 bloom." 
 
 Her coffin we covered with a black pall and bore to 
 the chapel, where, as I have said, mass was sung for 
 her repose. Beside the corpse six lighted candles were 
 placed. The altar and paintings were shrouded in 
 mourning. After mass, while the chapel bell was 
 tolling, six novices carried her to the grave-yard near 
 
POOR JULIA. 107 
 
 by, and tlie community followed two by two in the 
 usual manner. Tims tlie once admired, accomplislied, 
 and beloved Julia was committed to her final rest. 
 
 During her iUness, her sisters, who were in the acad- 
 emy, were permitted to see her but once, a few mo- 
 ments before her death, when she asked to see them; 
 nor were they permitted even to write to their father 
 of her iUness. He knew nothing of it until subse- 
 quent to her decease, but not long after he sent for his 
 two daughters from the academy. He was a Roman 
 Catholic. 
 
108 MISS Buckley's book. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 SISTEE SEEAPHIA. 
 
 As I have stated, the novices at St. Joseph's have 
 occasion frequently to remain at night with those who 
 are ill. It is also their duty to carry the coffin of the 
 dead, and watch through the night at its side. This 
 they sometimes do quite alone in the chapel. 
 
 The former of these offices I have many a time per- 
 formed, among the sick and dying in the infirmary. 
 I was for some time an assistant in that department 
 of the institution, having been put on duty after a very 
 severe illness, and as soon as I was sufficiently strong 
 to walk from one bed to another. 
 
 One night, during that illness, hearing a strange 
 noise in a neighboring passage, I arose, and went to 
 the door of the infirmary. It was dark. I walked on 
 a few steps, when I fainted, and fell to the floor. I 
 know not how long I remained unconscious. Upon 
 my recovery, it was some time before I could find the 
 door, and when I did so, I ascertained that the lamp, 
 which burns through the night, hanging from the cen- 
 tre of the room, had gone out. It was with difficulty 
 that I reached my bed, which I accomplished by feel- 
 ing on the floor for a register near it. I remained ill 
 
SISTER SEEAPHIA. 109 
 
 for many days, and much of tlie time miconscious of 
 all that passed around me. 
 
 On a bed opposite to mine lay a young sister, who 
 had the consumption, and was pronounced incurable. 
 The second winter after her admission she had taken 
 a severe cold, which received no attention. At length 
 she was sent to the infirmary, but there found no relief. 
 
 When, after my recovery, I was placed on duty in 
 the infirmary, I took particular care of this sister. A 
 short time before her death, she said to me, as I was 
 arranging her pillows, " Sister, you have been so very 
 kind to me, that I wish to see you after I die ; and if 
 Almighty God will permit, I shall come back to you, 
 and tell you of the unknown world." I told her that 
 I hoped she might do so. I prepared her to receive 
 the last sacrament, arranging the table, and placing 
 upon it the candles and crucifix. She received the 
 extreme unction, made her vows, and expired. 
 
 The day subsequent to Sister Seraphia's death, I re- 
 ceived a message from the mistress of novices direct- 
 ing me to keep watch alone in a small chapel on one 
 side of the sanctuary in the church. Entering that 
 chapel, I was startled at the sight of a coffin covered 
 with a black pall. At once I imagined that it was 
 the corpse of the young lady who had died on the pre- 
 ceding day. I seated myself by the coffin, and in per- 
 fect silence began my lonely vigil. My thoughts 
 could not but recur to the circumstances of her de- 
 cease — to her exclamations in the conscious approach 
 of death, when she cried out, "I am going I I am go- 
 ing!" and called on the names of the saints to help 
 her in that extremity. I remembered also, as I sat 
 
liO MIS8 BUNKLEY's book. 
 
 keeping solitary watch by the side of the dead, that 
 strange promise which she had made me ; and my 
 mind, ah'eady growing superstitious under the influ- 
 ence of constant meditation upon supernatural occur- 
 rences, was now uneasy at the slightest sound. I had 
 been thus engaged for about an hour, when suddenly 
 the folding doors between the chapel and the sanctu- 
 ary, which had been locked, burst violently open, with 
 so loud a noise that I uttered a scream, and rushing 
 to the door, held one side, while the other, striking 
 the table as it flew open, overturned it, with the can- 
 dle and the crucifix. Then, seizing both leaves of the 
 door, I held them till the sacristan, who had doubt- 
 less heard my scream, if she did not hear the noise 
 made by the doors, came in. She asked me, in a 
 whisper, what was the matter. I told her I was great- 
 ly alarmed, but did not explain the particulars. She 
 closed the doors, relocked them, and left me. I then 
 arranged the table and crucifix, relighted the candle, 
 and seated myself once more by the side of the corpse. 
 I fully expected every moment to sec her rise from the 
 coffin. As she had promised to revisit me, now, I 
 thought, was the moment ; and, possessed with this 
 idea, I placed my hands across her breast, and called 
 her several times by name. I should not have been 
 surprised if she had answered me, nor, indeed, at any 
 thing that might have happened ; for, during my stay 
 in the infirmary, I witnessed scenes and heard sounds 
 for which I was unable to account. Soon another sis- 
 ter came to relieve me ; and, as I was about to leave, 
 I said to her, " Should you hear or see any thing, 
 don't be alarmed, sister." She asked me if I had been 
 
SISTEE SEEAPHIA. HI 
 
 frightened ; I made no reply ; and she then could not 
 be persuaded to remain. I staid therefore alone until 
 the morning, but heard nothing else to disturb the 
 still repose of death. 
 
 . • 
 
112 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MYSTERIOUS SOUNDS. 
 
 I HAVE said tliat many things occurred during my 
 stay at St. Joseph's that seemed strange at the time, 
 and, however easily to be explained as machinations 
 of miracle-working priestcraft, caused much alarm and 
 excitement among the community where they were en- 
 acted. This will scarcely seem matter of surprise 
 when it is considered what an atmosphere of supersti- 
 tion and what a world of imaginary fears surround the 
 poor inmates of a convent. 
 
 One of the older sisters, having died, was committed 
 to the grave with the usual ceremonies, and the mem- 
 bers of the community retired from the spot, leaving 
 the sexton to complete the interment. When he had 
 commenced to fill up the grave with earth, a loud and 
 distinct rapping was heard to proceed apparently from 
 the interior of the coffin. The sexton was surprised, 
 but thought his ears deceived him, when, the sounds 
 continuing, he became greatly terrified, dropped his 
 spade, and ran in haste for the priest. It was only 
 after much solicitation that the latter would consent to 
 accompany the sexton to the grave, not believing his 
 story ; but finally he was persuaded to do so, in order, 
 as he said, to convince the frightened man of his folly. 
 
MYSTERIOUS SOUNDS. 113 
 
 On arriving at the place of burial, the sounds Avere still 
 heard, and, by command of the now apparently startled 
 priest, the coffin was taken out and opened, and the 
 cornet raised from the face of the sleeper to see if any 
 signs of life remained. But she lay in the stillness of 
 death, and the rapping had ceased. The coffin being 
 again committed to the grave, the sounds were re- 
 sumed, more loudly than before, and then continued 
 to be heard, fainter and fainter, till smothered beneath 
 the weight of earth, as the priest hastily directed the 
 sexton to fill up the grave. 
 
 Around the walls of the cell where this sister died, 
 knocks were repeatedly heard. A sister who wa-s iU, 
 and who slept there, told me she could not rest for the 
 loud rapping that occurred, and begged me to get her 
 a lamp to burii at night ; but lights are not allowed in 
 the cells of the institution, and no one, with the excep- 
 tion of a few who have special charge, is permitted to 
 possess a candle or a match at any time.* 
 
 * Miracles have been rife at the institution of St. Joseph's. '' On 
 the 10th of June, 1820," soon after the death of Mother Seton, the 
 founder of the establishment, " one of the sisters, who had been re- 
 duced by an accumulation of diseases to the very verge of the grave, 
 was suddenly restored to health, immediately after receiving the holy 
 communion. For thirty-six days she had not been able to retain the 
 least particle of food on her stomach ; and whenever she attempted to 
 take any nourishment, it was ejected with such violent sufferings as to 
 create the apprehension of immediate death. The physicians having 
 exhausted all the resources of their art, and the case having been pro- 
 nounced desperate, she was advised by Mr. Dubois to make a novena, 
 or nine days' devotion, in honor of the holy name of Jesus, in union 
 with Prince Hohenlohe, who, on a previous occasion, had announced that 
 on the tenth of each month he would pray for the intentions of those 
 living out of Europe. On the last day of the novena she received the 
 blessed sacrament at the hands of the Reverend Superior, and all her 
 
114 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 GEADES IN THE SISTERHOOD. 
 
 It is time that I should endeavor to explain the 
 meaning of the several terms that have been here used 
 in designation of. the several grades that exist in the 
 sisterhood at St^ Joseph's ; those, namely, of Postu- 
 lant^ Novice^ or Seminary Sister, and Professed Sis- 
 ter, The explanation will exact of my reader some 
 little patience and attention. I shall, however, make 
 it as plain and brief as possible. 
 
 A Postulant is one on probation in the communi- 
 ty. She wears in general a plain black dress with a 
 cape, and on the head a white cap, concealing a part 
 of her face. The period of postulancy is seldom pro- 
 tracted beyond the space of three months. It may be 
 less than this, according as the Superior shall determ- 
 ine. I myself took the habit before the expiration of 
 that period. The postulants are not all retained in 
 the institution ; many are sent away within a few days 
 after their arrivaL But, though they may be turned 
 off, they can not leave of their own accord. This de- 
 pends upon the will of the Superior alone, their own 
 will being renounced at their entrance. 
 
 morbid symptoms instantly disappeared. On the 10th of August, an- 
 other case of disease, but of a much more aggravated character, was 
 also suddenly cured by performing a similar novena in union with 
 Prince Hohenlohe." — Life of Mrs. Seton, p. 444. 
 
GRADES IN THE SISTERHOOD. 115 
 
 The rules and regulations of the sisterhood are not 
 fully made known to a postulant until the period of 
 her retreat. The purpose of this retreat, indeed, is 
 chiefly to acquaint the postulant with the nature of 
 the three vows — those of poverty, chastity, and obe- 
 dience — and the obligation she then assumes is ex- 
 pressed to her in language somewhat as follows: " You 
 do now bind yourself to keep forever these vows," etc. 
 No response is required, but in silence, total, abject 
 silence, all is to be listened to with the most thor- 
 ough acquiescence. This retreat lasts from five to 
 eight days. The time is spent in silent prayer and 
 meditation, nor is the postulant allowed to utter a sol- 
 itary word during this period. At its close the " hab- 
 it" is received. The postulant then becomes a Novice, 
 or " Seminary Sister." Such she continues to be un- 
 til the expiration of five years, when she " takes the 
 vows." These vows I believe to be none other than 
 those communicated in the retreat of the postulancy. 
 These once assumed, she becomes a Professed Sister. 
 
 The '-''holy habit ^^^ which is worn by the professed 
 sisters, is given to the novices whenever the Superior 
 may please to grant it. I had been measured for my 
 own shortly before my escape ; this, probably, was 
 owing to the fact of my employment in the academy, 
 and my subordinate charge of the novices in the no- 
 vitiate at "adoration," and in the refectory. 
 
 The " novitiate-room'"' is occupied by the postulants 
 and novices, the former being seated on benches in 
 the centre, and the latter in seats along the walls, 
 facing the postulants. 
 
 At the termination of the five years when ther " vows 
 
116 
 
 are taken," tlic novice docs not gain access to the com- 
 miinitj-room among the "j^rofessed;" although she is 
 then a professed sister, she is still called a novice. 
 A farther probation is required before admission to 
 that room. Three years at least, amounting, witli 
 those already spent in the novitiate, to eight, and some- 
 times even to ten, must yet elapse before these sisters, 
 now called "novices professed," can become occupants 
 of that higher sanctuary called the coinmunity-rooin. 
 
 Thus it will be perceived that there are in what is 
 termed the novitiate-room three classes of sisters — pos- 
 tulants, novices not professed, and novices professed ; 
 the last, and some of the second class, wearing the 
 holy habit. The term sister is applicable to all the 
 grades in the community ; and when we speak of the 
 community generally, we mean the entire body or sis- 
 terhood. 
 
 The three to five years that are spent in the novi- 
 tiate before admission to the community-room^ besides 
 the five years above mentioned, constitute, doubtless, 
 a sort of probation, during which it may be ascertained 
 whether the sister be qualified by natural capacities, 
 or by acquirements of education, for- the duties of a 
 " sister of charity," or whether she be sufficiently re- 
 liable to be intrusted with the secrets of this higher 
 grade before she can be sent abroad into the world on 
 a mission. This is particularly requisite in the case 
 of those who are designed for teachers, and for " sis- 
 ter-servants" to take charge of the mission houses, or 
 to perform other duties that demand more or less abil- 
 ity. Such a probation is not required, however, of 
 those sisters who are ignorant or of homely appear- 
 
GEADES IN THE SISTERHOOD. 117 
 
 ancc. These are often sent out at an earlier period to 
 fill subordinate places, as servants in mission-houses, 
 and for other stations. 
 
 It will be seen, then, that in the comiminity-room 
 none are admitted as inmates until they have spent at 
 least eight years in the institution. This is the rule, 
 and no exceptions are, to my knowledge, allowed. 
 There may be other vows beyond those which were 
 communicated to me, and much also concerning the 
 vows I have named ; the latter, doubtless, is the fact. 
 These vows are more strictly to be kept by the novices 
 than by the "professed" in the community-room. 
 
 I have noticed that each professed sister, as well 
 as each of those who intend to assume the vows, when 
 approaching the time of that assumption, carries in her 
 pocket a small black book, tied with black tape, which 
 is attached to it at the pointed end of a lappet of some 
 black material, extending beyond one cover, and fold- 
 ing over it like a pocket-book. Should this book fall, 
 or be left by accident lying in any place, its contents 
 would thus be concealed unless the tape were unfast- 
 ened. I always supposed, from the care taken to keep 
 this book out of view, that it contained something of 
 an improper nature relative to the vows assumed, a sup- 
 position which was engendered by reading in the books 
 of the conferences. The sisters generally read this 
 book before confession. 
 
 I am aware that after the first five years the sisters 
 are required to renev:) their vows yearly, on a certain 
 fixed day, and in words they do make the vows from 
 year to year, but in heart they bind themselves for- 
 ever. KX these appointed periods of renewal, the sis- 
 
118 MliiS BUNKLEYS 130UK. 
 
 ters respond to their vows in an audible tone of voice. 
 This is done at high mass, just before communion, and 
 with the remembrance that those who perform the act 
 have no longer any will of their own. The rule de- 
 clares that they can not leave the institution during 
 this interval of renewal, nor during the course of the 
 year. And the vows must be thus renewed yearly, 
 on the day set apart for the purpose. Before entering 
 St. Joseph's, I was told that I could leave at any mo- 
 ment at my pleasure. I was assured that, not only 
 before the expiration of the five years of novitiate, but 
 even after that period, I should only be bound to re- 
 main for a year at a time, being free to renew my 
 vows at the end of each period or not, as I might 
 choose. This I found to be all fraud and deception. 
 
COSTUME OF THE SISTEES. 119 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 COSTUME OF THE SISTEES. 
 
 It may be well here to describe, in a few words, the 
 costume of the sisterhood, before farther explanations 
 respecting the vows. The dress of a novice consists 
 of a black gown, a dark blue apron, with a boddice 
 covering part of a small white shawl, falling gracefully 
 over the shoulders, and not concealing the form. On 
 the head is worn a closely-fitting cap, made of white 
 muslin, covering the ears and concealing the hair, 
 which has been cut short. Over this cap is worn a 
 white " bonnet," the " bobs" of which fall over the 
 shoulders to the waist behind. Over the " bonnet"* 
 again is the black "capot," a kind of silk veil that 
 hangs over the shoulders, extending nearly to the feet. 
 This dress is also called the sister's habit, or the sem- 
 inary dress. 
 
 The "holy habit," or dress worn by the older sis- 
 ters, consists of a gray cloth gown, an apron of the 
 same material, loose hanging sleeves, and beneath it 
 a white linen sleeve that fastens around the wrist. 
 Over this is drawn in winter a close worsted sleeve. 
 Around the neck is worn a broad linen collar, falling 
 nearly to the waist in front, where the ends overlap 
 each other slightly. The head is shaved close, and is 
 
 * Pronounced bonne. 
 
120 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 covered with a closely-fitting cap called the toiiquoir. 
 Over this is worn the " cornet," which is a broad piece 
 of linen, fashioned into a species of bonnet, and drawn 
 to a point above the face ; it projects in front over the 
 forehead about six inches. The sides, or "wings," 
 droop to the shoulders, but do not touch them. The 
 sisters often say, " These are the wings that will carry 
 us to heaven." 
 
 Large heavy beads, with a crucifix attached, are 
 worn at the left side, and constitute a part of the dress. 
 These are to be distinguished from the chaplet beads,* 
 which, when not carried in the pocket, are worn on the 
 right side. Some of the sisters possess, attached to 
 the chaplet, a small crucifix, said to be made of the 
 wood of the tree under which St. Vincent was in the 
 habit of sitting. The holy habit, when put on or 
 taken off, is always reverentially kissed. The costume 
 at first adopted by.l\Irs. Seton for the institution of St. 
 Joseph's is thus particularly described in her life : "A 
 black dress witli a short cape, similar to a costume 
 that she had observed among the religious in Italy. 
 Tier head-dress was a neat white muslin cap, with a 
 crimped border, and a black crape band around the 
 head, fastened under the chin." — P. 253. 
 
 The slioes worn by the sisters are of the coarsest 
 kind. Speaking of them, I may mention, as an illus- 
 tration of the petty annoyances which are designedly 
 practiced upon the younger sisters, for their sjpiritual 
 advantage no doubt, the following incident. Shortly 
 
 after my entrance as a postulant. Sister J. P met 
 
 me in the corridor, and, looking down at my gaiter- 
 
 - Chapclct., French ; rosary. 
 
COSTL'ME OF THE SI6TEKS. 121 
 
 boots, she said to nie, ^' You must not wear such shoes 
 as those; come with me.'' I followed her to a room 
 on the ground floor, partly paved with bricks, used for 
 bathing, and also as a shoe depository. Having seat- 
 ed me on a small bench, the sister said, " Put out youi- 
 foot here ;*' and then, for a long time, looked for a pair 
 of shoes to lit me. They were all too large; and as 
 I expressed my dissatisfaction, she said, " It's no mat- 
 ter ; you don't want your feet to look small ; you are 
 not ' in the world' now;" and so saying, she took the 
 smallest pair she could find, and placed them on my 
 feet. These shoes, like all the rest in the room, were 
 made of leather, with a strap on each side of the in- 
 step, and tied with a leathern string. The soles were 
 about half an inch thick. Once a week we blacked 
 our own shoes in the same room. A few days after 
 this, the same sister met me limping, and asked me 
 what was the matter. I told her that my feet were 
 chafed by the slipping of the shoes up and down when 
 I walked, and by the binding or cord around the top. 
 She then went with me into the refectory, and cut the 
 binding, which somewhat relieved me. It was long- 
 before I could accustom myself to the use of these 
 shoes. . A few weeks before I left, I had a new pair 
 given me, having worn the former tlnrough on one side. 
 That pair was then given in my presence to a postu- 
 lant ; whether they were mended or not afterward, I 
 can not say. The Lady Superior wears morocco 
 buskins. 
 
 F 
 
122 MiSfc) bunkley's book* 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE VOW OF POVERTY. 
 
 The first of the vows taken in the institution, name- 
 ly, that of poverty, is of sufficiently plain significance, 
 its purpose being evidently to enrich the establishment 
 by so much property as the members of the community 
 may possess, as well as to derive from their manual labor 
 all their earnings, over and above the amount required 
 for their own support. As members of the commu- 
 nity, they would naturally be more likely to donate 
 their possessions to the institution than otherwise to 
 dispose of them. But, moreover, their vow of pover- 
 ty not only precludes them from retaining this prop- 
 erty within their own hands, but actually places all 
 they possess at the disposal of the Father Superior, 
 as declared by the " Eules," and as stated in the 
 *' Conferences," which are read when the sisters as- 
 sume the habit. 
 
 A sister breaks the vow of poverty should she see 
 upon the floor a pin or a needle, a piece of thread or 
 cotton, or any other trifle, and fail to take care of it. 
 Economy is carried even to parsimoniousness for the 
 advancement of the order. Under this vow, a sister 
 can not wish for any object, even though it be a new 
 habit ; in case that the one she wears has been worn 
 
THE vow OF POVERTY. 123 
 
 threadbare, or is torn or patched, she must wait and 
 be contented till another be given her.* The work 
 from which the note below is taken was often quoted 
 from for our edification. 
 
 When speaking of the habit, shoes, or any other 
 article of apparel, a sister must not say " my habit, 
 my shoes, or my pencil ;" she is not permitted to con- 
 sider herself the owner of any thing, not even of her 
 own person. She must feel that she belongs, soul and 
 body, to the service of the community ; her will per- 
 tains to the Father Superior. The mistress of novices 
 once told me that my body was not my own, but be- 
 
 * "The second degree of poverty," saj-s the Roman CathoUc Text- 
 book for Nuns, "is to deprive yourself of whatever is superfluous, for 
 the smallest superfluity will prevent a perfect union of the soul with 
 God. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi went so far as to strip her little 
 altar of all its ornaments except the crucifix. St. Theresa relates of 
 herseff that, knowing God to be most jealous of religious poverty, she 
 could not ' recollect' herself in prayer so long as she retained any thing 
 which she thought to be superfluous. If in your convent there is not 
 a perfect community of property, endeavor at least to imitate the pov- 
 erty practiced by the most exemplary and exact among your compan- 
 ions, as well in dress as in food and furniture. But you will perhaps 
 say that whatever you possess is retained with the leave of the Supe- 
 rior. Permission to keep superfluities may save you from the punish- 
 ments inflicted on ^proprietors,^ but will not secure to you the merit 
 of perfect poverty. Again, you will perhaps say that you have no at- 
 tachment to what you keep ; but whether you have an attachment to 
 it or not, the possession of what is not necessary will always prevent 
 you from attaining the perfection of poverty. You may imagine that 
 a certain sum of money or a certain amount of property will enable you 
 to relieve the poor or to assist your companions, but I repeat that it 
 is the nun who has nothing to give, and not the religious who has the 
 means of distributing alms, that edifies the Church. 
 
 " Above all, seek to be poor in money." — St. Alphonsus Liguori. 
 ^^Thc Nun Sanctified ;''' translated and published/or the use of English 
 Nuns and Postulants. 8vo. Dublin, 1848. 
 
124: MISS liUNKLEl's BOOK. 
 
 longed to the community. The community is called 
 " our mother ;" and every sister is bound to love and 
 cherish it as a daughter. 
 
 Some of the sisters have constant hemorrhages from 
 the lungs, and such are required to carry, wrapped in 
 a pocket-handkerchief, a small square bottle, which is 
 kept corked. This is used by all who raise blood 
 even occasionally ; for, should they use their handker- 
 chiefs to wipe the blood from their mouths, it would be 
 an infraction of the vow of poverty, as it would tend 
 to wear them out, and also cause a waste of soap and 
 a loss of time in washing them. The handkerchiefs 
 used by the vow-sisters in the community-room are 
 about thirty inches square ; they are of fine linen, im- 
 ported from France in the piece, and are cut so as to 
 form a square according to the width of the piece. 
 The novices, however, use cotton handkerchiefs. . 
 
 The vow of poverty prohibits a sister from using any 
 thing to gratify the senses, such as perfume ; or to 
 wear any ornament as such, or to partake of any lux- 
 uries, such as cake, preserves, custard, or whatever 
 pleases the palate. Should any such article be offer- 
 ed, it must be refused. It is not allowable to desire 
 to eat any thing but the most common food, and that 
 only when given. A sister breaks her vow of poverty 
 when she gets hungry and desires to eat between 
 meals. At the table she must eat what is set before 
 her or go without eating, and she is taught to take 
 food only with a view to strengthen the body for the 
 performance of duties, and to take no pleasure in it. 
 
 She may not accept the most trifling present from 
 any one without permission of the Superior or the 
 
THE VOW OF POYEKTY. 125 
 
 mistress of novices, nor can she give away any object 
 without first obtaining permission. It is not allowed 
 her to receive from a boarder even a flower, though it 
 be presented by a pupil under her own tuition. 
 
 It is a mortal sin for a sister to use perfume, and 
 the use of looking-glasses is entirely prohibited ; not 
 even the boarders are permitted to use them. They 
 would sometimes keep a small piece concealed, and I 
 have known some of them to bury their perfume-bot- 
 tles in the play-ground, because it was a forbidden ar- 
 ticle. 
 
 One day, as I passed a boarder who had been ar- 
 ranging her hair, she said to me, in a playful manner, 
 " Sister, what is this on my hair?" I stooped my 
 head, and, smelling the perfume, smiled, but said noth- 
 ing. An old sister, coming along at the time, observed 
 the movement, and said, lifting up her hands in holy 
 horror,. "Why, sister, why did you not practice morti- 
 fication?" It will be remembered that to touch or no- 
 tice any person, even a boarder, in the way of a pleas- 
 ing attention, or for any other purpose than the per- 
 formance of the "duties" assigned, is a mortal sin. 
 The person of a sister is considered sacred and holy^ 
 and this impression is to be made and kept in the 
 minds of the boarders. 
 
 A few words in relation to our conduct toward the 
 boarders of the academy may not be out of place here. 
 
 As a young novice, looking so sanctimonious, so 
 sad and dejected, I was often regarded by the mis- 
 chievous girls of the academy with doubt and incre- 
 dulity as to my fitness for the life of a convent, and 
 frequently they would say to me, " Sister, what did 
 
126 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 you come here for? Sister, you ought to be in the 
 world ; you can not be happy here ; you will certain- 
 ly die if you stay here ; I believe you are dying Avith 
 the consumption ; you look like a saint, sister, but 
 you are too young to be here ; this is not the place 
 for you, "etc. Yet, though such kindly-meant remarks 
 might be made to me by the boarders, it was never 
 safe to communicate with them or to corroborate their 
 surmises, lest it should reach the ear of the Superior, 
 and bring upon me the infliction of penances as well as 
 more strict confinement and more onerous " duties." 
 Had I given to any one of them a hint of dissatisfac- 
 tion, she might have repeated it in anotlier class-room, 
 or at least have allowed some allusion to escape, upon 
 which I would have been immediately arraigned. The 
 necessity of such strict surveilla^nce over those sisters 
 who have duties in the academy will at once appear. 
 Any such intimation of dissatisfied feeling might alarm 
 some boarder who was seriously thinking of entering 
 the community; hence none but those whose exem- 
 plary conduct recommended them to the officers as re- 
 liable in this particular were permitted to teach the 
 boarders. 
 
 To stop in the corridor for the purpose of looking at 
 or smelling a flower, whose fresh bloom and delicate 
 odor might occasionally tempt to a momentary indul- 
 gence of innocent enjoyment — this would be a loss of 
 time, and thus would amount to a breach of the vow 
 of poverty. Not an instant must be wasted in any 
 sort of pleasurable occupation. Secular music is nev- 
 er allowed in the community. It is ioor}<\ or iDorship 
 — " duties" of some kind or other, and that continue 
 
THE VOW OF POVERTY. 127 
 
 ally. When lying upon the bed at night, every wake- 
 ful moment must be employed in meditations on the 
 subject assigned before retiring, in the recitation of 
 prayers, or in "making aspirations," that is, uttering 
 some ejaculatory expression, such as " Sweet Jesus ! 
 Sweet Mother ! Holy St. Joseph, pray for me ! My 
 blessed Mother ! Holy Virgin I ]\Iary my Mother !" 
 etc. 
 
 Even during sickness, a sister is not permitted to 
 have or to desire any article, such as ice, that might 
 be grateful to the taste, and add to her comfort while 
 the fever is upon her. Of this I will" relate a single 
 instance. It is that of the sick sister in the infirmary, 
 by whose appearance I had been particularly struck 
 during my postulancy, and who had subsequently been 
 sent away from the institution. I now saw her again. 
 She had been to Baltimore for the amputation of her 
 arm, and while absent, prayers had been said for her, 
 that she might survive the operation. She had now 
 returned, the arm having been taken off below the el- 
 bow. I saw her in the infirmary, where I was also, 
 ill. After my recovery I was put there on duty. 
 Among others I attended her, dressing her arm, chang- 
 ing her clothes, and administering her medicine. 
 
 She was placed in a small room adjoining the main 
 apartment, and was the only patient there, although 
 the infirmary was not at that time full. It was the 
 room that I have elsewhere mentioned as used for the 
 purpose of a " dead room," bodies being laid out there 
 previous to the funeral service in the chapel and the 
 interment. At this period I slept in the infirmary. 
 One night I was awoke by a furious storm that moan- 
 
128 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ed and whistled round the buikling. Hearing steps in 
 the passage near the infirmary door, I rose, and went 
 to ascertain the cause. There is no door between the 
 infirmary and the small room before alluded to, but 
 the doors of both rooms open upon one passage, as be- 
 fore related. I saw a figure in white leaning against 
 the wall. It was the poor sister, who had come out 
 into the passage. She appeared exceedingly agitated 
 and alarmed, and entreated me to accompany her to 
 her room, stating that she had been so startled by ex- 
 traordinary sounds that she should certainly die with 
 terror. Supposing that the storm had thus frightened 
 her, I went and remained with her till it was over ; 
 but she could not be pacified. She afterward declared 
 that these noises had been heard before the storm, 
 and were still repeated nightly ; and as evening ap- 
 proached, she seemed in an agony of distress, beseech- 
 ing me to procure a light for her. The room was, I 
 think, the same with that in which had died the 7'eli- 
 gieuse from whose coffin the sound of rapping appeared 
 to proceed. 
 
 In assisting one day to change lier clothes, I was 
 surprised to observe a large swelling on her right side. 
 I asked her the cause of it. She told me that she had 
 been in the institution about eight months, wlien she 
 was sent from the refectory one evening for some 
 plates. She was bringing an armful from the kitchen, 
 and was crossing the porch, covered at that time with 
 ice and snow, when she stumbled and fell, her side 
 striking across a tub which stood in her way, and thus 
 the swelling had been occasioned. She had been sent 
 to the infirmary, but nothing was done for her side — 
 
THE YOW OF POVERTY. 129 
 
 no application whatever having been made to it. Her 
 health had been bad ever since, and she had been re- 
 peatedly sent to the infirmary. I touched the lump, 
 and it appeared to me like a projecting portion of bone. 
 I continued to attend her for some weeks, and about 
 a fortnight after I had left the infirmary she died. She 
 was not allowed a light at night, though more than 
 once she pleaded for it. She asked for ice to put in 
 the water she drank, and was refused. I made the 
 same request in her behalf, but could not obtain it. 
 She solicited some little delicacies, such as a lemon 
 and an apple, but they were denied her. No sick per- 
 son is permitted to ask for any thing ; I never dared 
 do so when ill. The very things desired were gener- 
 ally the last to be gTanted. 
 
 This sister had a cough, and was, as I supposed, in 
 the consumption. Her arm was never entirely healed. 
 She was a native of Switzerland, and spoke broken En- 
 glish. She told me she had come to this country with 
 her sister and her sister's husband from France. They 
 placed her at St. Joseph's, and left her there ; she had 
 never seen or heard from them since. I inferred at 
 the time that, in all probability, she had been wealthy, 
 or had been brought there for some WTong motive, in- 
 stead of being left at the Mother House in Paris ; and 
 she often expressed the wish that she had been so left, 
 instead of being brought to this country. Some mys- 
 tery was connected with her case. I frequently saiv 
 her weeping ; she would refuse medicine, and say she 
 did not wish to live. I helped to lay her body in the 
 coffin ; I watched by the side of it, and assisted two 
 other novices in carrying it to the chapel door and 
 
 F2 
 
130 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 placing it upon the bier. Under the weight of the 
 burden in so doing, I was almost bent to the ground, 
 and thouo-ht I should have fainted with the effort. 
 
 o 
 
 This sister's name was Neomesia; her age I should 
 judge to have been about twenty to twenty-three 
 years. 
 
vows OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE. 131 
 
 CHAPTER XXVT. 
 
 vows OF CnASTITY AND OBEDIENCE. 
 
 The other two vows, or obligations of Chastity and 
 Obedience, when fully explained in their relations 
 with the peculiar ideas inculcated by the priests con- 
 cerning their breach and observance, will doubtless 
 prove novel and startling to the unsophisticated deni- 
 zens of "the world" without, to whom Jesuitical casu- 
 istry and doctrine are unknown pursuits of study. 
 These vows will be treated in connection. 
 
 A sister or religieuse breaks the vow of chastity 
 by looking a man or woman, and even a "sister," in 
 the face, unless required by duty.* She must not 
 
 * St. Alphonsus Liguori, one of the most eminent saints of the Ro- 
 man Catholic Church in modern times, in his work entitled " The Nun 
 Sanctified," thus dilates on the " sanctification of the eyes :" 
 
 " A deliberate glance at a person of a different sex often enkindles 
 an infernal spark which consumes the soul. The first dart which 
 wounds and frequently robs chaste, souls of life finds admission through 
 the eyes. St. Bernard, after being a novice for a year, could not tell 
 whether his cell was vaulted. In consequence of never raising his 
 eyes from Ihe ground, he never knew that there were but three win- 
 dows in the church of the monastery in which he spent his novitiate. 
 The saints were particularly cautious not to look at persons of a differ- 
 ent sex. St. Hugh, bishop, when compelled to speak with women, 
 iiever looked at them in the face. St. Clare would never fix her eyes 
 on the face of a man ; she was greatly afflicted because, when raising 
 her eyes at the elevation to see the consecrated Host, she once invol- 
 
132 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 raise her eyes to a sister, nor when speaking to or ad- 
 dressed by the Father Superior, her confessor, or any 
 
 untarily saw the countenance of the priest. St. Lewis Gonzaga never 
 looked his own mother in the face. It is related of St. Arsenius that 
 a noble lady went to visit him in the desert to beg of him to recom- 
 mend her to God. When the saint perceived that his visitor was a 
 woman, he turned away from her. She then said to him, ' Arsenius, 
 since you will neither see nor hear me, at least remember me in your 
 prayers.' 'No,' replied the saint, 'but I will beg of God to make me 
 forget you, and never more to think of you.' . 
 
 " From these examples," proceeds the saint, "may be seen the fol- 
 ly and temerity of some religious, who, though they have not the sanc- 
 tity of a St. Clare, still gaze around from the terrace, in the parlor, and 
 in the church, upon every object that presents itself, even on persons 
 of a different sex ; and notwithstanding their unguarded looks, they 
 expect to be free from temptations and from the danger of sin. For 
 having once looked deliberately at a woman who was gathering ears 
 of corn, the Abbot Pastor was tormented for forty years by tempta- 
 tions against chastity. St. Gregory states that the temptation, to con- 
 quer which St. Benedict rolled himself in thorns, arose from one incau- 
 tious glance at a female. St. Jerome, though living in a cave at Beth- 
 lehem in continual prayer and macerations of the flesh, was terribly 
 molested by the remembrance of ladies whom he had long before seen 
 in Rome. Why should not similar molestations be the lot of the re- 
 ligious who willfully and without reserve fixes her eyes on persons of 
 
 a different sex % Father Manareo, when taking leave of St. 
 
 Ignatius for a distant place, looked steadfastly in his face ; for this look 
 he was corrected by the saint. From the conduct of St. Ignatius on 
 this occasion, we learn that it was not becoming in religious to fix their 
 eyes on the countenance of a person even of the same sex, particular- 
 ly if the person is young. But I do not see how looks at a young per- 
 son of a different se-x can be excused from the guilt of a venial fault, 
 or even from mortal sin, when there is proximate danger of criminal 
 consent. 
 
 " Except in looking at such objects (sacred images, etc.), a religious 
 should in general keep the eyes cast down, and particularly in places 
 where they may fall upon dangerous objects. In conversing with 
 men, she should never roll the eyes about to look at them, and much 
 less fo look at them a second time. 
 
 " St. Francis of Assisium once said to his companion that he v/as 
 
vows OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE. 133 
 
 Other priest. She must not suffer her thoughts to 
 dwell upon any individual of the other sex. She 
 must not touch a sister's hand, nor her habit, nor al- 
 low herself to be touched by another. Persons "in 
 the world" she must neither look at nor touch, nor may 
 she permit them to touch her hand or her habit. If 
 allowed to see a father or a brother, she must not take 
 his hand. Sisters may not see one another with their 
 heads uncovered. A religieuse must renounce all cu- 
 riosity, never look around her, nor through a window, 
 nor toward a door when it is opened, to see who enters. 
 She must walk through the cloisters and corridors with 
 downcast eyes, and hands folded in her sleeves in front 
 of her breast, passing and repassing the sisters with- 
 out a word or a sign of recognition. 
 
 Should a sister be seen conversing with a boarder, 
 she would be reported to the Superior, severely repri- 
 
 going out to preach. After walking through the town with his eyes 
 fixed on the ground, he returned to the convent. His companion ask- 
 ed him when he would preach the sermon. ' We have,' replied the 
 saint, ' by the modesty of our looks, given an excellent instruction to 
 all who saw us.' It is related of St. Lewis Gonzaga that, when he 
 walked through Rome, the students would stand in the streets to ob- 
 serve and admire his great modesty." 
 
 How unlike the real quality, we may add, is this sham modesty that 
 says, Come and see how modest we are ! 
 
 " To be faithful to her spouse," says St. Basil, " a virgin must be 
 immaculate in her tongue by the delicacy of her language, and by ab- 
 stinence as much as possible from conversations with men ; she must be 
 immaculate in the ears by shunning, like death itself, all worldly dis- 
 courses ; immaculate in her eyes by the modesty of her looks, always 
 restrained so as never to fix them on the face of a man," etc. — St. 
 Basil, dc Vera Virg. 
 
 Injunctions of this character were frequently repeated to us by the 
 priests and mistress of novices for our instruction. 
 
134 
 
 manded, and assigned a penance. Often have I veil- 
 ed, by a powerful effort, my unliappiness from the 
 boarders, but they could not help observing and mark- 
 ing at times the paleness of my countenance, which 
 bore traces of the agony that shook at times my very 
 soul. Yet I durst not appear otherwise than calm and 
 collected, nor say one word about the cause of my un- 
 happiness, nor even raise my eyes, while walking- 
 through the academy. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, I would venture to answer the 
 voice of some gentle girl, who would speak to me in 
 passing, and whose sunny smile would cheer my sad 
 and lonely heart, but from the clasp of whose hand 
 I would be forced to recoil as from a sei-pent's touch. 
 I was narrowly watched, and frequently reported as 
 guilty of " impropriety," and many a reprimand have I 
 received for speaking on such an occasion, or for suffer- 
 ing my hand to be taken, or my waist encircled by the 
 arm of a pupil, an offense which would be reported by 
 spies of the community, who are ever on the alert. 
 Indeed^ the rule requires that any such transgression 
 be avowed in confession, and that penance be solicited 
 in expiation of it. 
 
 But in regard to the observance of these and all 
 other rules, it must be borne in mind that, should the 
 Superior at any time command the contrary, the sis- 
 ter must OBEY. Should a priest, and particularly a 
 priest of the Order of St. Lazare, take her hand, with 
 whatever intention, she may not withdraw it. TAe 
 vow (9/* OBEDIENCE here has su2:)reinacy over the vovj 
 of chastity. 
 
 Should her thoughts go out into the world, should 
 
YOWS OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE. 135 
 
 memory call up a friend of the other sex, should the 
 mind overleap prescribed limits, especially with refer- 
 ence to a priest, she must make known that thought 
 at the confessional. Yet if the Superior, her confess- 
 or, or any other Lazarist, should direct her thoughts 
 to such topics, she would be commendable in so doing, 
 for she would prove her obedience. 
 
 In the books of the " Conferences," so called, which 
 arc occasionally read to the community, particular di- 
 rections are given by the founder concerning the vows, 
 rules, and reejulations of the sisterhood. These books 
 are kept locked in a mahogany box, and are only taken 
 out to be read to the community during annual re- 
 treat. When reading these " Conferences," as trans- 
 lated from the French original, I have frequently been 
 made to blush at what I was reading. In one of these 
 books the sisters are told not to fall in love with a 
 priest ; but should they do so, to tell him of it, and ob- 
 tain his advice. Should a sister on a mission chance 
 to entertain such feelings toward a priest, she is in- 
 structed at once to inform the Superior, and ask for a 
 change of place. Sometimes this request is granted. 
 
 And here I would solicit the earnest and candid at- 
 tention of the reader to the infamous craft exercised in 
 these regulations. A young girl, thoughtlessly be- 
 trayed into an infraction of the rules, such as that just 
 mentioned, discloses her error as required. The priest 
 thus informed can eitlier take advantage of her con- 
 fession or not, as he may feel inclined, or as his judg- 
 ment of the character of the sister may determine. 
 Sometimes policy will induce him to express a holy 
 horror at the offense, with a view to the exalting of 
 
136 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 his own superior sanctity, and this especially if he 
 should entertain an aversion for the penitent, or should 
 he deem her an unsuitable subject for his purposes. 
 On the other hand, should his own evil heart suggest 
 to him the moral destruction of this sister, how great 
 the advantage he possesses for its accomplishment, in 
 view of this doctrine of passive and meritorious obe- 
 dience. 
 
 In a word, the sisters are taught that their vow of 
 OBEDIENCE is supreme ; that the expressed will of the 
 Superior must be regarded as the voice of God, and 
 that in case the voiu of chastity he violated by those 
 exei'cising authoynty over thein, no sin can he imjputed 
 to themselves^ because they are doing right hy main- 
 taining inviolate the void of obedience.* 
 
 * If the testimony of personal observation on this subject needs to 
 be confirmed, it will only be requisite to quote a few words from the 
 highest authorities. " The principal and most efficacious means of 
 practicing the obedience due to superiors," says St. Alphonsus Li- 
 guori, " and of rendering it meritorious before God, is to consider that, 
 in obeying theni, wc obey God himself, and that by despising their 
 commands we despise the authority of our divine Master, who has 
 said of superiors, ' He that heareth you, heareth me.' When, then, a 
 religious receives a precept from her prelate, superior, or confessor, 
 she should immediately execute it, not only to please men, but prin- 
 cipally to please God, whose will is made known to her by their com- 
 mands. In obeying their directions, she is more certain of doing the 
 will of God than if an angel came down from heaven to manifest his 
 will to her. 
 
 " It may be added that there is more certainty of doing the will 
 of God by obedience to superiors, than by obedience to Jesus Christ, 
 should he appear in person and give his commands. Because, should 
 Jesus Christ appear to a religious, she would not be certain whether 
 it was he that spoke or an evil spirit, who, under the appearance of 
 the Redeemer, wished to deceive her. ... In a word, the only way 
 by which a religious can become a saint, and be saved, is to observk 
 
vows OF CHAS'IlTY AND OBEDIENCE. 137 
 
 HER RULE ; FOR HER THERE IS NO OTHER WAY THAT LEADS TO SALVA- 
 TION !" 
 
 Awful blasphemy ! Yet Jesus said, " I am the way; ho man com- 
 eth to the Father but by me." 
 
 " The fourth and last degree of perfect obedience," observes this 
 saint elsewhere, " is to obey with simplicity. ... St. Mary Magdalene 
 de Pazzi says that ^perfect obedience requires a soul without a will, and 
 a will without an intellect.' .... To regard as good ivhatercr superiors 
 command is the blind obedience so much praised by the saints, and is 
 the duty of every religious To try the obedience of their sub- 
 jects, superiors sometimes impose commands that are inexpedient, and 
 even absurd. St. Francis commanded his disciples to plant cabbages 
 with their roots uppermost. He obUged Brother ?klatthew to continue 
 turning round till he fell to the ground." 
 
 Copious directions are given to nuns by St. Alphonsus as to the ne- 
 cessity of blindly following the confessor. " Obey him, then," he says, 
 " not as man, but as God, and yoic shall never err. In the beginning 
 of his conversion, St. Ignatius of Loyola was so violently assailed by 
 scruples, and so encumbered with darkness, that he found no peace. 
 But because he had true faith in the word of God {he that hcareth you 
 heareth me), he said, with great confidence, ' Lord, show me the way 
 in which I ought to walk, and, though you should give me a dog for 
 my guide, I will faithfully follow him.' " 
 
 But lest it be supposed that any exercise of judgment be allowed the 
 nun as to what is divine guidance and what is not, St. Alphonsus 
 takes care to add : " To nuns who begin to censure the decisions of 
 their confessors, we ought to say what the learned Monsignior Sperelli 
 wrote to a religious who had accused him of heresy because he had 
 said that the sins which she had confessed were not sins. ' Tell me,' 
 said the learned bishop to her, ' in what university have you studied 
 theology, that you know better than your confessor how to decide on 
 sinl Ah ! go to spin, and do not give ear to such folUes.' " 
 
 Such are the perils of a loose morality — should we not rather say 
 of a gross immorality] — to which a young girl is exposed, in our own 
 Christian land, who gives herself to the guidance of corrupt and cor- 
 rupting priests. The voice of conscience, that monitor of God's own 
 appointment in e^-ery human bosom, is silenced by the vile utterance 
 of a sinful man. The " more sure word of prophecy," which God has 
 put into our hands as all-sufficient for doctrine, for reproof, for correc- 
 tion, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God might be 
 perfect, thoroughly furnished unto every good work, is laid aside for 
 the authority of the confessional and the lying wonders of tradition. 
 
138 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 MORALS AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 
 
 As the result of these pernicious and utterly demor- 
 alizing doctrines, a lamentable state of things, I grieve 
 to say, existed among a portion of the community at 
 St. Joseph's. It was some time — so little suspicion 
 of the truth was entertained — before I understood and 
 appreciated the symptoms of the evil that raged around 
 me. When, at length, the light dawned upon my 
 mind, it was accompanied by a shock as of electricity, 
 that paralyzed me for the moment. I almost doubted 
 the evidence of my senses ; but with the reaction came 
 the strong resolution to leave at all hazards the pre- 
 cincts of such an establishment ; a resolution only 
 hastened in its accomplishment by subsequent events. 
 
 And here let me add — for I would not be so misun- 
 derstood — that I have no intention to include the 
 whole sisterhood in one sweeping charge of immoral- 
 ity. Far from it. Many are unquestionably pure in 
 their feelings and sincere in their desires to serve God, 
 however mistaken and ill founded the views which 
 they have learned to entertain. Many would be glad 
 to be freed from their bonds, and, like a liberated bird, 
 sing rejoicingly at their release ; but others are infat- 
 uated with their lot, and no inducement could be of- 
 fered that would tempt them to leave it. 
 
MORALS AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 139 
 
 Infractions of moral duty and departures from rec- 
 titude are the legitimate consequences of the system 
 from which they spring, and whatever errors may be 
 committed by the sisters are justly chargeable to the 
 reverend guides and directors who inculcate such mis- 
 chievous tenets.* 
 
 * That the Church of Rome knows well the danger rising from the 
 confessional, and the law of blind obedience, to priest and penitent 
 both, is clear from her instructions on the subject addressed to confess- 
 ors. Thus Dens's work on Moral Theology, the text-book at Maynooth 
 and at other Roman Catholic seminaries, has a clause on just causes 
 for permitting feelings of a sensual nature. And here it is distinctly 
 stated that just causes of this sort are the hearing of confessions ; the 
 reading of cases of conscience drawn up for a confessor ; necessary or 
 useful attendance on an invalid. " The eficct of a just cause is such," 
 he proceeds to say, "that any thing from which such sentiments arise 
 may be not only lawfully begun, but also lawfully continued ; and so 
 the confessor, receiving those sentiments from the hearing of confes- 
 sions, ought not, on that account, to abstain from hearing them, but has 
 a just cause for persevering ; provided, however, that they always dis- 
 please him, and there arise not therefrom the proximate danger of con- 
 sent." And the theologian proceeds to mention cases in which con- 
 fessors, in the performance of their office, were accustomed to fall into 
 sin as often as two and three times in a month ; adding, that it is the 
 duty of the confessor, in such a case, notwithstanding, to persevere in 
 the discharge of his calling ! See Deiis, tom. i., p. 299, 300, Coyne's 
 Dublin edition, 1832. 
 
 But more than this : St. Thomas Aquinas, " the Angelic Doctor," 
 states as a thesis, that " a ' religious,' violating the three primary arti- 
 cles of his rule, viz., poverty, chastity, and obedience, sins mortally." 
 This thesis, however, is not laid down to be maintained, but to be dis- 
 proved, and St. Thomas proceeds so to do : 
 
 " The state of a ' religious' is a safe state. 
 
 *' But a ' religious' is exposed to many temptations to break his rules, 
 and if to break his rules were mortal sin, then the state of a * relig- 
 ious' would be dangerous instead of safe. 
 
 "Therefore it is not mortal sin for a 'religious' to transgress his 
 rules!" — St. Thomas Aquinas, Secunda Secundae, Quaest. clxxxvi., 
 art. 9. 
 
140 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 The power conferred upon the fathers by the rite of 
 confession affords them great facilities to accomplish 
 their purposes. The highest importance is given to 
 a strict and punctual attendance at the confessional, 
 which may truly be denominated the throne of the, 
 Koman Catholic ecclesiastic; for there, armed with 
 the assumed authority of God, in whose stead he offi- 
 ciates on earth to the suppliant slaves prostrate be- 
 fore him, he deals the terrible anathema of the Church 
 to the disobedient and refractory, dispenses his " ab- 
 solution" to the faithful and submissive, and awards 
 the "penance" to be observed in expiation for sin. 
 Seated at the confessional, he is empowered, by vir- 
 tue of his self-arrogated position, to propound queries 
 which, from the lips of others, would be deemed fla- 
 grant insults. Kneeling there, the young maiden an- 
 swers questions calculated to eradicate every feeling of 
 modesty, woman's highest charm, and lays bare to the 
 inquisitive search of her " spiritual director" every se- 
 cret thought, every incipient emotion, every impulse of 
 her being. How easy, then, for an evil-disposed con- 
 fessor stealthily to infuse into the innocent and trust- 
 ing heart, taught to consider blind obedience a vir- 
 tue, thoughts, whose grow^th, cherished by his daily 
 care, shall soon fill it with a diseased vegetation. If 
 any distrust betray itself— if any hesitation appear to 
 the answering of these artfully-framed inquiries, the 
 objector is readily quieted by an assurance that it is 
 the confessor's duty, for her soul's sake, to propound 
 these queries ; that he is the authorized medium of 
 communication between her soul and Heaven; that 
 he occupies the place of the Almighty in reference to 
 
MORALS AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 141 
 
 her spiritual wants and requirements, and must be so 
 regarded if she wishes to avoid purgatorial iires and 
 secure future felicity. Is it, then, a matter of wonder, 
 that those brought up within the pale o-f this Church, 
 and whose every thought and feeling from childhood 
 to maturity has been watched and directed by such a 
 " spiritual guide,*' should yield themselves entirely to 
 his control, and even see no danger in their abject sub- 
 missiveness, nor evil purpose in his exercise of unlim- 
 ited power ? 
 
 But if "in the world," as it is technically termed, 
 the confessional may be such a source of perilous and 
 demoralizing influence to the youthful mind, and so po- 
 tent an agency for the subserviency of guilty designs, 
 it may easily be conceived that in a religious commu- 
 nity, whose members are secluded from public obser- 
 vation, and given over, bodily and spiritually, to the 
 charge of priests, its control must be more absolute, 
 and more unscrupulously exercised.* Shut up and 
 
 " This inevitable result is eloquently set forth by the able author of 
 Mornings with the Jesuits at Rome. " In these nunneries," he says, 
 speaking of the convents of Tuscany, " there are sometimes thirty, 
 sometin^es forty, sometimes fifty, and in many even one hundred nuns. 
 And these nunneries have almost always convents near them, more or 
 less large, for those monks who are to be the confessors of those nuns. 
 And living, as these nuns always do, in a state of seclusion and dull- 
 ness ; living, as they do, a life of hopelessness and monotony, without 
 the interests of mothers, for they have no children; without the inter- 
 ests of children, for they have no parents ; without the interests of sis- 
 ters, for they have no brothers ; without the interests of wives, for they 
 have no husbands, they are thrown upon their own confessors for so- 
 ciety. And the visits of the monks from the adjoining convents break 
 the tedium of their lives ; break in and while away their hours of idle- 
 ness, brin'T to them the gossip of the neighborhood, and reveal to them 
 the news °of the outer world. And the result is, that from the rising 
 
142 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 deprived of intercourse or communication, even hy let- 
 ter, with parents, relations, and friends, and taught by 
 the invariable law of human instinct to seek direction 
 and sympathy from other minds, the inmates of these 
 institutions submit implicitly to the guidance of their 
 confessor, and regard his injunctions and admonitions 
 as "oracles divine." To him they resort in every 
 trifling difficulty ; to him they go with every petty 
 trouble ; and accustomed to view him as a wise ar- 
 biter and an infallible monitor, no limit, at least, is 
 j)laced to their confidence and obedience until they be- 
 come the pitiable victims of their black-robed and 
 black-hearted betrayers. 
 
 My recollections of my novitiate at St. Joseph's will 
 ever be associated with a feeling of contempt and ab- 
 horrence for those men who use their advantage of rank 
 and position to the basest ends, and with deep thank- 
 fulness for my own escape from their insidious snares. 
 It was a contemplation of the peril to whicli I was ex- 
 posed that first suggested the idea of escape, at any 
 risk, from the institution. I could have borne toil, 
 privation, and bodily maltreatment as the conse- 
 quences of my own rashness and ill-advised imj)etu- 
 osity, but the future wore too dark and terrible an as- 
 
 to the setting of the sun, the visits of these monkish confessors are the 
 objects looked for in the morning, and remembered in the evening. 
 Now it is only in human nature to suppose that, under such circum- 
 stances, attachments may spring up between the younger nuns and 
 the younger monks. It is no unkindness, it is no scandal to say it — it 
 is only what nature seems to dictate. The real unkindness, the real 
 scandal is that the Church of Rome interposes a law, and forbids the 
 consecrating of these attachments by the bonds of holy wedlock." — 
 Rev. Mr. HoBART Seymour, in a Lecture on " Convents or Nunneries,'^ 
 at Bath, En.'c, June 7tL 1852. 
 
MORALS AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 14B 
 
 pect, that I sliould resign myself with quietness to its 
 liorrors. Although the conversations and the acts 
 of individual members of the community, the secret 
 mysteries of the confessional, and other circumstances 
 besides, were ample evidence to my own judgment of 
 the alarming position I occupied, yet, as it may be 
 contended by those interested in concealing the truth 
 that my mental vision was distorted, and that my 
 prejudices were too strong to admit of a calm, dispas- 
 sionate induction from what I saw and heard, I feel 
 most reluctantly compelled to state an incident con- 
 cerning which there can be no misconception. 
 
 A priest, who had been engaged in exercising his 
 pastoral functions at St. Joseph's, was about to leave 
 the institution, and, as is customary, the sisters were 
 directed to enter the room where he was stationed, and 
 ask a blessing at his hand previous to his departure. 
 When my turn came, I went in, with downcast eyes 
 and clasped hands, as required, and knelt to receive 
 the expected benediction. But instead of the press- 
 ure of his hand upon my head, I felt the impression of 
 a kiss upon my forehead. Startled and confused by a 
 salutation so unexpected and inappropriate, I stagger- 
 ed to my feet, and ejaculated, almost unconsciously, 
 the words, "Oh! Father!" But before I could re- 
 cover my composure, seizing my wrist with his left 
 hand, and encircling my waist with his right arm, he 
 drew me toward him, and imprinted several kisses on 
 my face before I was able to break from his revolting 
 embrace. Yet I was compelled, from prudential fears 
 of the consequences, to be silent respecting this insult- 
 ing treatment. What could I do ? to ^hom should I 
 
144 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 apply for redress and protection ? If I had complain- 
 ed to the mistress of novices or to the Mother Superi- 
 or of the outrage to which I had been subjected, I 
 should have beenjdenounced as a base calumniator of 
 the ' ' holy father^ " and punished for the offense. There 
 was nothing left but to wait in silence for some other 
 means of redress. 
 
 '''I must quit this 2^lcice P These words were now 
 continually in my mind. But how ? was a question 
 difficult to be answered. I could not communicate 
 with my family through the authorities of the institu- 
 tion.- This privilege had been denied me before, and 
 I had suffered on account of my expressed desire to 
 do so. Having experienced the evil results of the 
 failure of this first attempt, I feared to make a second 
 effort, lest worse should follow, and a stricter surveil- 
 lance be kept over me. I could not procure the trans- 
 mission of a letter by means of the boarders, even had 
 I been enabled to write one without detection, for all 
 the letters they send home are examined and read. 
 This method of communication had been attempted 
 by others, but the plans were discovered and the of- 
 fending sisters punished. A secret escape was the 
 sole alternative, and this I resolved, if possible, to ac- 
 complish. I was fully aware of the difficulties in the 
 w^ay, and the fearful issue of a failure ; but this thought 
 only nerved me for the trial, and led me to use every 
 exertion that secresy and caution could suggest to in- 
 sure success. .Having formed the determination, my 
 ■first endeavor was to banish all traces of nervousness 
 and anxiety from my features, and compose them into 
 
MOEALS AT ST. josErn's. 145 
 
 an expression of calmness and resignation, that no 
 mistrust of my intention might be entertained. This 
 effected, I patiently awaited a favorable opportunity to 
 execute my design. 
 
 a 
 
146 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXYIII. 
 
 RELATIONS OF THE LAZARIST PEIESTS TO THE SISTER- 
 HOOD. 
 
 In the books of the " Conferences," to which I have 
 already referred, the founder directs that a priest shall 
 not be permitted to enter the apartments of the com- 
 munity unless accompanied by a sister. The devil, 
 he remarks, is always at work, and even angels have 
 fallen ; and yet the novices are accustomed to sleep 
 in cells with curtains instead of doors ! Farther, it is 
 forbidden that a sister should see a priest alone in a 
 parlor ; there must always be two. Nor is it allowed 
 that she should visit a priest alone ; yet she may re- 
 main at the confessional for any length of time alone 
 with her confessor — nay, she may see him in his own 
 room in case of indisposition. In fact, the priests do 
 often enter the rooms of the sisters, and remain there 
 for a considerable time ; nor is any one permitted to 
 open the door (for the rooms of the vowed sisters have 
 doors) or enter the room during their stay. 
 
 When the Father Superior enters the room of the 
 Lady Superior, should a sister be present at the time, 
 it is her duty to withdraw at once ; nor is any one al- 
 lowed to enter while he remains. 
 
 A sister never enters the room of the Father Supe- 
 
RELATIONS OF THE LAZAEIST PRIESTS, ETC. 147 
 
 rior so long as there is another sister in his room. 
 There is one who attends to his door, and informs the 
 applicant whether he be engaged. When a sister is 
 particularly anxious to see him, she writes her name 
 upon a slate, and is sent for at his option. 
 
 Sisters are also advised, in the " Conferences," not 
 to attend persons of their own sex when solicited to 
 do so in certain cases of sickness while on their mis- 
 sions "in the world," lest thej might have bad 
 thoughts. 
 
 One day, while on duty in the room of a professed 
 sister, I heard groans proceeding from an apartment 
 nearly opposite, and noticed the infirmarian passing 
 up and down before the room. I was then command- 
 ed to close the door opening into the passage, in order 
 to prevent the sound from reaching a neighboring cor- 
 ridor, which led to the building occupied by the com- 
 munity. Having done so, I returned to the duty in 
 which I was engaged. 
 
 After a few minutes I was called by the infirmarian 
 to the medicine-room. She said to me, "Be quick, 
 and pour out ten drops from that vial," pointing to one 
 in the medicine-case. In my agitation and alarm, in- 
 stead of dropping the liquid, I poured it out with a 
 trembling hand — I knew not how much, perhaps a 
 tea-spoonful. With this I was sent to the sister's 
 room, and administered it as directed. The sister was 
 propped up with pillows, extending from the shoulder 
 downward. She was deadly pale, with dark circles 
 around the eyes, as I have seen persons appear after 
 convulsions. Her feet were resting against the foot 
 of the bed, as if for support. The infirmarian soon 
 
148 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 followed me into the room, and I saw no other person 
 there. I retired at once, and resumed my duty with 
 the sick sister in the opposite room. A short time 
 after, I heard a priest's voice in the apartment in ques- 
 tion, but did not distinguish the conversation. The 
 groans increased until they became shrieks, at inter- 
 vals of about ten minutes, and then more frequent, un- 
 til almost continuous, when they ceased altogether. 
 
 This happened in the course of an afternoon, includ- 
 ing a period of about four hours. I left the sister's 
 room opposite about three hours and a half subsequent 
 to my hearing the first groan, and when in the infir- 
 mary below could plainly hear the shrieks described. 
 
 I had never seen this sister before, except two or 
 three times within a month previous to this occurrence, 
 when I had noticed her accidentally in the same room 
 as I passed the door. On those occasions she was 
 sitting in a rocking-chair, dressed in a loose wrapper. 
 After this I saw her occasionally, at first in bed, and 
 later in a chair. Shortly after, m^- duties in the in- 
 firmary ceased, having continued only some seven 
 weeks, and I saw no more of her. This took place 
 about three months before I left the institution ; after 
 this I visited the infirmary but occasionally, when sent 
 on transient duties. 
 
 Shrinking as I do most painfully from the state- 
 ment of any thing that may seem to throw a shade 
 upon the perfect sanctity of those retreats, where I 
 myself long imagined the very embodiment of excel- 
 lence to dwell, the task I have conscientiously under- 
 taken compels me to withhold nothing that shall ac- 
 quaint my countrymen witli the reality of those dan- 
 
RELATIONS OF THE LAZAEIST PRIESTS, ETC. 149 
 
 gers to which their daughters may be exposed within 
 these guarded precincts. It has been my duty to de- 
 clare, for their warning and determent, some part at 
 least of that which I have seen and heard as a personal 
 witness. Yet I can not bring myself to recount in de- 
 tail the instances of undue familiarity which have fall- 
 en under my own notice, and the evidences of it that 
 have forced themselves upon my own conviction. I 
 hasten to close what it has been necessary to state on 
 this subject. 
 
 When I first visited the institution, before entering 
 the community, I had in my possession a letter which 
 I had been told to deliver at once upon my arrival into 
 the hands of the priest. Accordingly, it being about 
 nine o'clock in the evening, I asked to see him. The 
 sister who was present, raising her hands and eyes to 
 heaven in holy horror, exclaimed, "A priest does not 
 remain here at this hour of night — never!" 
 
 After my entrance into the community, as I was 
 one day walking upon the corridor, I saw a room ad- 
 joining the priest's room, through a window which 
 looked out upon the corridor. In that room I saw a 
 bed. And I know that a priest once slept there, for 
 I heard it said that it was too cold for him to come so 
 early in the morning to say first mass. I have also 
 heard priests walking through the institution at night. 
 I am convinced, from these and other considerations, 
 that priests do sleep there. 
 
 I was invited one evening to go with some six or 
 eight vowed sisters to a place called the Grotto. This 
 is a spot surrounded by lattice-work, in the centre of 
 which stands a statue of the Virgin. There are seats 
 
150 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 around it, and a delicious spring of water gushes fortli 
 near Tby. Soon after we entered, an Italian Lazarist, 
 or jn-iest of the corresponding institution of St. La- 
 zare,* came into our midst and took a seat. The sisters 
 clustered around him, kneeling, and conversing freely 
 v/ith him. Looking up earnestly into his face, they 
 would exclaim, "O father!" with a tone almost of 
 adoration. I know of no words to express the intens- 
 ity of feeling thus manifested, beaming from every 
 countenance, and exhibited in their actions ; fascina- 
 tion does not seem strong enough to convey the idea. 
 Had the Savior himself been present in person before 
 them, they could hardly have shown more reverence 
 and love. Every soul appeared to gaze upon him with 
 its most ardent affection. 
 
 * The " Catholic Ahnanac" for 1855, in a list of the religious insti- 
 tutions of the archdiocese of Baltimore, illustrates very forcibly and 
 pithily, in the following extracts, the connection between these two 
 establishments. We quote verbatim : 
 
 " St. Joseph's Sisterhood, Emmettsburg, Md. 
 
 "This is the Mother-House of the Sisters of Charity in the United 
 States. 
 
 " Very Rev. F. Burlando, Ecclesiastical Superior. 
 Rev. H. Gandolfo, Chaplain. 
 
 Sr. M. Etienne Hall, Mother Superior^ 
 
 " Congregation of the Mission, Emmettsburg, Md. 
 " Very Rev. Francis Burlando, C. M. 
 
 Rev. Hippolytus Gandolfo, CM." 
 
MONTHLY AND ANNUAL RETKEAT. 151 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MONTHLY AND ANNUAL RETEEAT. 
 
 On a particular Sunday of every niontli there is ob- 
 served at St. Joseph's a " monthly retreat'''' That 
 day is spent in prayer and meditation, in spiritual 
 reading, in saying the litanies of the Holy Ghost and 
 the blessed Virgin, in "preparation for death," and 
 other religious exercises, terminating with a "repeti- 
 tion of the meditations" made in the course of the day. 
 
 These meditations are divided into three periods. 
 The "repetition" of them consists in kneeling at the 
 centre of the room before the assembled sisterhood, 
 and repeating the thoughts that have occupied the 
 mind during each period given to meditation through- 
 out the day, all of which is rehearsed for the edifica- 
 tion of the community. 
 
 Those gifted with a ready flow of language of course 
 make beautiful "repetitions," as they can easily fab- 
 ricate them for the occasion ; but others not so en- 
 dowed will naturally blunder through the performance 
 in such a manner as often to excite the risible sensa- 
 tions of their hearers. All aHke, however, conclude 
 with the following formula : "I will place my resolu- 
 tions in the sacred heart of Jesus," or " of Mary ;" "I 
 will practice some virtue, and the resolutions I have 
 made for future conduct." Then kissing the floor, the 
 
152 
 
 sister returns to lier seat. No one is allowed to speak 
 during the whole day, save as called upon in this ex- 
 ercise. 
 
 The "preparation for deatli," a formulary read aloud 
 to the community, is calculated to produce emotions 
 of intense grief, anxiety, and distress, amounting al- 
 most to derangement. I have seen sisters weep and 
 tremble, and have heard them groan as if in the deep- 
 est agony of mind. These demonstrations are consid- 
 ered highly commendable, and are particularly encour- 
 aged. My own feehngs were never thus manifested, 
 for the reason that I felt as though I could welcome 
 death with all its bitterness. It had no fears for me, 
 and especially since my mother's death I have had 
 little desire to live. 
 
 These readings commence as follows : " Let me die, 
 O my God! let me die! Let my body be eaten by 
 worms, in punishment for my pride," etc., etc. 
 
 On the days which are thus occupied by special ob- 
 servances, the regular work and " duties" of the estab- 
 lishment must be dispatched with great speed, to al- 
 low time for these unusual engagements ; and if not 
 accomplished in due season, they must be finished 
 after night prayers. 
 
 The Lady Superior does not go into this retreat. 
 It is made by the novices in the novitiate-room, and 
 by the professed in the community-room. No one 
 can leave the room on these occasions for any purpose 
 whatsoever. 
 
 The monthly exercises which I have here described, 
 attended as they are with such evidences of great de- 
 pression of spirits, and exhausting as they do the phys- 
 
MONTHLY AND ANNUAL EETEEAT. 153 
 
 ical energies, arc not the only seasons when these ef- 
 fects are apparent. In the daily meditation similar 
 scenes not unfrequently occur. Upon one occasion, 
 during meditation in the chapel, a sister, overcome by 
 her feelings, fell to the floor, and, striking against a 
 settee, cut her face in a shocking manner, so that she 
 was at once taken to the infirmary. Fainting and 
 falling to the floor are no uncommon events during the 
 meditation-hour. When a fast-day happens upon the 
 day of the monthly retreat, the exercises prove espe- 
 cially exhausting. 
 
 The "ANNUAL eetreat" is a period lasting from 
 eight to ten days, and spent in silent prayer and med- 
 itation in the chapel, during which time not a word is 
 spoken. Several priests are in constant attendance 
 to hear confessions. 
 
 The " meditations" during this retreat are very ex- 
 citing. Frequently will the sisters break forth into 
 screams ; often, faint and worn out with prayer, vigils, 
 and penances, many of them become ill, and are sent 
 to the infirmary. One of these meditations, the sub- 
 ject of which was " a sister in hell," seemed sufficient 
 of itself to cause insanity. It was awful in the ex- 
 treme. It represented a sister who had broken her 
 holy rules and vows, as asked by the Lord after death 
 for her habit, when she would scream and say, "Give 
 me back my holy habit!" but would be thrown into 
 hell to howl and rave with the devils. 
 
 During this annual retreat the Superior gives " con- 
 ferences" in the chapel, consisting of discourses or lec- 
 tures on such topics as the three vows — Poverty, 
 ■ Chastity, and Obedience ; and the three virtueis which 
 G* 
 
154 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 are to be practiced in connection witli tliese — Humil- 
 ity, Charity, and Simplicity. 
 
 A general confession is made in the course of this 
 annual retreat. On this occasion the sisters have the 
 choice of their confessors, for there are several Lazar- 
 ist priests who are invited to the institution for that 
 purpose. Sometimes the sisters will remain at the 
 confessional for two hours, and leave it weeping. I 
 have seen them enter the confessional much agitated ; 
 often they will lean against the wall for support. 
 
 During one of these retreats, which happened while 
 I was in the institution, I was, of course, obliged to 
 resort with the rest to confession. I went into a lit- 
 tle chapel on one side of the " sanctuary," entered the 
 confessional, and knelt before the lattice-work. The 
 priest drew the curtain that covered it on the opposite 
 side ; then, walking to the window, raised the curtain, 
 so that the light shone directly in my face ; and seat- 
 ing himself at the confessional, with his head resting 
 on his hand, and close to the bars, said, " Sister, draw 
 aside your veil, that I may see Avhether your counte- 
 nance betokens sorrow for your sins." I complied re- 
 luctantly, and commenced the Gonfiteor — "I confess," 
 etc. 
 
 When I had repeated this, he asked me how old I 
 was ; how long I had been in the institution ; why I 
 entered it ; if I was in love with any one when I en- 
 tered ; if I loved any one then, and whether it was a 
 person in the world, or one consecrated to God. Of 
 course I was unprepared for questions of this nature, 
 and, instead of answering them, said, "Father, I am 
 ready for confession." He then remarked, "When I 
 
MONTHLY AND ANNUAL EETREAT. 155 
 
 entered the conimimitj (that of St. Lazarc), 1 thought 
 I had done much for God, but now I lind that I have 
 done nothing." He proceeded to counsel me to un- 
 itate the example of St. Theresa. " You must perse- 
 vere," he added, " in the service of God ; it is a blessed 
 thing for a young person early to devote herself to the 
 service of God, and enter such an institution." He 
 bade me open my heart to him, and tell him every 
 thought and feeling. I should state that this priest 
 was about twenty-three or four years of age. 
 
 This conversation continued for a length of time, and 
 I became exceedingly fatigued in my kneeling posture. 
 I mentioned this to the priest, begging that he would 
 defer my confession till some other time. Had I not 
 done so, I know not how long he would have kept me 
 in the confessional. When I had promised him to 
 come again on the following morning, he permitted me 
 to leave, telling me that in the mean time I must think 
 of him and pray for him. I saw this priest but once 
 again as he was passing through the institution. One 
 evening, shortly after this incident, I met a " vowed 
 sister" walking upon the corridor. She inquired of 
 me, "Have you been to confession? and to whom?" 
 I told her; and she then asked, "Did he put many 
 questions to you ?" I replied that he did. The next 
 day I observed that she went to confession to this 
 priest, and no doubt she was highly pleased, for she 
 remained in the confessional three hours. Probably 
 she wished to go to a person who would address to 
 her such questions as she would take satisfaction in 
 answering. This sister was a French person, and one 
 whom I had often noticed in the corridor conversing 
 
156 MISS BL^NKLEYS BOOK. 
 
 with the priests ; she also frequently visited their apart- 
 ment. I have many times seen her and others walk- 
 ing in the passage on the ground floor, as the priests 
 passed to and from their room. Repeatedly have I 
 observed the vowed sisters with the priests, walking 
 up and down this passage, talking and laughing with 
 them, and retiring with them to then- room. Some- 
 times, when the door chanced to open, I have seen one 
 of them in a kneeling posture before the priest, and 
 talking with him. 
 
 Sometimes one or two priests and several sisters 
 take supper together in the community-room, and. I 
 have overheard them talking and laughing in a very 
 loud tone. On one occasion I was asked by a pro- 
 fessed sister to visit with her the house for the Laza- 
 rists in Emmettsburg, but I was not permitted to go 
 near that place. 
 
 The sisters frequently went to St. Lazare. This 
 building belongs to the institution, and is about a mile 
 distant. During vacation several of the sisters spend 
 their time there. They have a very beautiful chapel 
 in the house, where they perform their devotions. 
 Novices are not permitted to visit here, but the priests 
 are allowed this privilege. I visited the place three 
 times in my occasional carriage-drives, and once break- 
 fasted there. I have never heard that any other nov- 
 ice did so. 
 
 In addition to the lectui'es given by the Superior 
 in the chapel, conferences are also read at these annual 
 retreats by a sister who stands at a table. In the re- 
 treat which I attended about three months before my 
 escape, the Father Superior, during one of these con- 
 
MONTHLY AND ANNUAL RETREAT. 157 
 
 ferences, took occasion to expatiate on the troubles 
 that threatened the Church, remarking that there were 
 enemies who were endeavoring to destroy its servants ; 
 that the Pope was fearful that the avowed opponents 
 of the Church were about to make a determined effort 
 to break down its power and destroy its institutions. 
 He appeared extremely solicitous about this danger, 
 and requested the prayers of the sisters that the Church 
 might be protected from these anticipated efforts. I 
 did not then comprehend his meaning, for he seemed 
 to refer to a special movement of which I knew noth- 
 ing ; but, since my departure from St. Joseph's, I have 
 concluded that he made allusion to the American move- 
 ment, which I have learned was at that time rapidly 
 growing and gaining strength throughout our country. 
 Nor do I imagine that any other sister understood the 
 allusion, as we were never permitted to see a newspa- 
 per, except occasionally one lying on the Lady Supe- 
 rior's table, which it was not allowed to read or touch. 
 I have, however, seen the Lady Superior attentively 
 reading newspapers. 
 
 At the close of the annual retreat, the sisters are in- 
 vited to. come to the Lady Superior's room, where she 
 presents them each with a picture ; to some she gives 
 more than one, and sometimes a "Litany" in French 
 or English. From the Lady Superior's room they re- 
 pair to the Father Superior, before whom they kneel, 
 and obtain his blessing. He questions them as to the 
 manner in which they have passed the retreat, their 
 feelings, etc., and encoui*ages them to keep more strict- 
 ly their holy vows and rules. Sometimes, too, he pre- 
 sents some of them with a picture, a rosary, a medal, 
 or other small gift. 
 
158 MISS bunio^ey's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM. 
 
 It was very shortly after the annual retreat, the 
 nature of which I have now explained, that a letter 
 was one day received by the Mother Superior from a 
 young lady, whose parents resided in Virginia. As 
 she had been a particular acquaintance of mine, I was 
 summoned to the Superior's presence, and the letter 
 was handed to me. It had already been opened and 
 read, doubtless by the Superior, whose practice it was 
 to do so whenever a letter was sent to any member 
 of the institution. After reading the contents, which 
 were addressed to me, inquiring how I liked the life 
 of the sisterhood ; if I was happy ; what were the du- 
 ties ; whether I thought the writer competent to per- 
 form them ; and expressing a desire to enter a relig- 
 ious house, the Superior put certain questions to me 
 respecting this young lady. She asked me if her fa- 
 ther and mother were living, how many children they 
 had, if they were wealthy, if she was accomplished and 
 pretty, etc. These interrogatories being answered to 
 her satisfaction, she directed me to sit down and wiite 
 in reply, " Come and see." " Tell her," she added, 
 " that I invite her to visit the institution ; say that 
 you are happy and contented ;" in short, she dictated 
 a letter which I wrote, and handed to her on the spot. 
 
ANOTHER VICTIM. lo9 
 
 Three or four weeks elapsed, and I was again sent 
 for to come to the Superiors room. I observed on 
 entering that there was a lady present ; but, not being 
 allowed to raise my eyes to her countenance, could not 
 distinguish her particularly. The Superior said to me 
 as I advanced, " Sister, do you know this young 
 lady ?" I raised my eyes, and behold it was my friend. 
 Very coldly and calmly I replied, "Yes, mother," 
 Upon this my friend sprang toward me with outstretch- 
 ed arms. I drew back, my hands clasped upon my 
 breast, according to the rules. The Superior meantime 
 closely watching me, I did not allow my friend to touch 
 me, but looked at her calmly, as though it were no sur- 
 prise or delight for me to behold her again. In all 
 this concealment and repression of feeling we were 
 trained; and they who best perform their part, and 
 exhibit least emotion, are most highly commended, 
 while such as are unable to govern the natural out- 
 bursts of affection are required to do penance. 
 
 My friend, evidently grieved and w^ounded at this 
 cold reception, after a short pause, asked me how I 
 liked the religious life, and whether I was happy. 
 The Superior, too, put similar questions ; to all of 
 which I dared make no other reply than that I was 
 delighted with the mode of life ; that the duties were 
 easy, and such as she could readily perform ; and that 
 I was perfectly happy. After this the Superior told 
 me to leave, and I accordingly retired to my duties. 
 
 The next day, at recreation-hour, I was permitted 
 to go and see my friend, accompanied by an elder sis- 
 ter, and I then learned the state of her mind. She 
 was in raptures with the place ; and after some con- 
 
160 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 versation with lier, I was sent for by the Superior to 
 report these expressions of her feelings. After supper 
 I again saw her, and we had another conversation in 
 company with an elder sister ; and, as I had been in- 
 structed, I endeavored to increase her interest in the 
 institution. 
 
 On the following day she went into a " religious re- 
 treat." Two days subsequent, while on my way with 
 the community to chapel, in my place in the rank, or 
 order of procession, I was sent for by the Lady Supe- 
 rior. Somewhat alarmed, I hurried to her room, and 
 was ordered to have the dinner of the young lady 
 taken to her apartment. I was told to give directions 
 for a "nice dinner," as, for some reason which I did 
 not learn, the young lady had not dined. I waited 
 on her at table, and, though she pressed me to partake, 
 I durst not do so, as it is against the rules to eat with 
 a person of " the world." There was, besides, an offi- 
 cer sitting in the apartment adjoining, with the door 
 partly open : this door had a glass sash, and the offi- 
 cer was doubtless placed there for the purpose of watch- 
 ing me. The dinner was not such as we ordinarily 
 partook of, but of a tempting character, such as we 
 never saw in the refectory. 
 
 Dinner over, I reported to the Superior what had 
 been said by my friend at the table; among other re- 
 marks, that she " had come prepared to enter the com- 
 munity," which seemed greatly to gratify the Supe- 
 rior; and that "the only tie that now bound her to 
 the world was her affisction for her parents, and par- 
 ticularly for her father ; but this difficulty she intend- 
 ed to settle by ascertaining from the priest her true 
 
ANOTHEE VICTIM. 161 
 
 vocation." This news greatly pleased the Lady Supe- 
 rior ; and it was arranged that my friend should visit 
 the priest — the Father Superior — that same afternoon. 
 I was appointed to accompany her to the presence of 
 the father, who was duly informed of this conversa- 
 tion ; and when she made her appearance in his room, 
 he seemed delighted to see her. He took her hand as 
 I passed, and said, pointing to me, "You see we never 
 shake hands with a sister." 
 
 I staid a few moments in the room, until, at a sig- 
 nal from the priest, I left, having first obtained his 
 blessing. I went to the novitiate, and there watched 
 the door leading to the priest's room to see my friend 
 come out. I did so, not by order from the Superior, 
 but from my own anxiety to know whether, after this 
 interview, she would still remain determined to enter 
 the house, and with but a faint hope that she might 
 not be prevailed upon to do so. From that interview^ 
 however, she went directly to her own room. During 
 recreation after supper, I was sent to visit her with an 
 ejder sister, being directed to conduct her over the 
 beautiful grounds of the Superior to a fine grove of 
 trees, in the midst of which there is a mound covered 
 with shrubbery. Upon this mound stands a very 
 large cross, surrounded by symbols of the passion — 
 the serpent, the ladder, the hammer, the sponge, the 
 spear, the crown of thorns, the scourge, etc. This 
 last was painted to represent blood upon it. At the 
 foot of the cross there was a statue of the Virgin Mary, 
 upon which the sisters, when permitted to walk over 
 the grounds, sometimes put wreaths of flowers, and be- 
 fore which they make their orisons. The stillness and 
 
162 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 seclusion of the spot, the perfume of flowers, the balmy 
 atmosphere, the solemn and holy calm, gave to this 
 place the charm of an earthly paradise. It is called 
 " Otir Lady of the Fields ;" and hither the priests fre- 
 quently resort to sit in quiet, decorating the statue, or 
 employing themselves as they please. 
 
 On the next evening I was again called to the Lady 
 Superior's room. My friend was there, clothed in a 
 black dress, with the officers of the institution stand- 
 ing around her. The Superior commanded me to lead 
 her to the novitiate and introduce her to the mistress 
 of novices, whom she had not yet seen. It is usually 
 the duty of an officer to take a postulant into the no- 
 vitiate, but an exception was made in this instance. 
 My friend was much agitated. I left her with the 
 mistress of novices, to whom I communicated my er- 
 rand. 
 
 Her first duties were in the refectory. Often have 
 I seen her carrying plates and other crockery on a large 
 " round" — a circular piece of wood with a handle — to 
 and from the basement-room below. Once I saw her 
 crying with the great exertion required in this duty, 
 and the pain it occasioned her. 
 
 After this I frequently saw her in tears, and some- 
 times going in that condition to the Father Superior's 
 room. I noticed that she looked delicate, and wonder- 
 fully changed in appearance. She used to be called 
 upon to read aloud on successive days, for a week at a 
 time, during dinner and supper, out of the Lives of the 
 Saints, the Roman Martyrology, and other books — a 
 duty which the mistress of novices, who never enter- 
 tained any special regard for me, desired me to per- 
 
ANOTHER VICTIM. 163 
 
 form, but the Superior would not indulge lier in this 
 wish. At other times, and in addition to this duty, 
 she was obliged to wait upon the table. Once she 
 was sent to the infirmary in consequence of a cold 
 taken from sleeping in the dormitory without sufficient 
 covering in winter, and when I left she was again 
 there. 
 
164 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 TOKENS OF SISTEELY EEGAED. 
 
 It will be readily imagined tliat the unnatural state 
 of tilings prevailing under tlie conventual system is 
 calculated rather to promote than j)i^event the rising 
 of those petty jealousies and dislikes which must be 
 incidental to such an association. Without the strong 
 ties of kindred or friendship to bind them one to an- 
 other, it is not likely that the poor prisoners of a con- 
 vent will spend in perfect harmony the tedious hours 
 and years of their compulsory seclusion. A single in- 
 cident may let the reader into the realities of that rela- 
 tionship which Rome pretends to constitute among the 
 unhappy inmates of a nunnery, and which she desig- 
 nates by the deceptive name of " sisterhood." 
 
 Having been sent one evening to work in the board- 
 ers' refectory, instead of that of the sisterhood, while 
 standing near one of the tables at which the boarders 
 were seated, I took up a basket and carried it to the 
 scullery for some bread. Scarcely had I entered the 
 room and handed the basket to the sister who had 
 charge of the department, when I felt myself seized 
 by the arm, and, looking round, saw the angry counte- 
 nance of the sister who presided at the boarders' table. 
 She asked me, in a passionate tone, by whose authority 
 
TOKENS OF SISTERLY EEGAED. 1G5 
 
 I had taken that basket for bread, and whether I had 
 been appointed waiter by the Superior. I answered 
 no, and that I would not have taken the basket had 
 she not ordered mc, the night before, to do so when she 
 had said that bread was wanting upon the table. 
 
 The sister told nie that I had no authority of the 
 kind, and that she would report me to the Superior, 
 and have me brought before " the council." I replied 
 that I was not conscious of having done wrong ; but 
 she followed me into the porch, talking in a lou^d and 
 angry tone. I dreaded the " sacred council," and went 
 at once to the novitiate, and told the mistress of nov- 
 ices what had just occurred. She answered me that I 
 had "many a cross to bear." 
 
 That evening, while on the way to my cell, I no- 
 ticed in one of the cloisters a sister leaning against 
 the wall. She beckoned me to her, and then made a 
 motion for me to follow her. I soon found it was the 
 sister who had ill-treated me in the refectory. I be- 
 came alarmed, as she was leading me to a balcony be- 
 yond the cells. I whispered that I must go to my 
 cell — that I would be missed. By this time we had 
 reached the balcony. She insisted that I should wait, 
 closing, at the same time, the door after us. Just 
 then, hearing a noise near by, as if some one was 
 crossing the porch to the infirmary, we walked on a 
 few steps to escape observation. The sister then fell 
 on her knees, asking my forgiveness for having abused 
 me, and begging me not to speak of what had occurred 
 should I have an' interview with the Superior priest. 
 I would here state that, in those intervievv^s, a sister is 
 questioned as to any difficulties she may have had 
 
166 Mis« bunkley's book. 
 
 with others in the communitj. I promised secresy, 
 and went to my cell. 
 
 Wearied and exhausted with my duties in the acad- 
 emy, besides my evening work, an irresistible oppres- 
 sion of soul weighing down my powers of mind and 
 body, I tried in vain to sleep. I thought of my ill 
 health, caused by the laborious exercises I had to per- 
 form, and the sufferings and sorrows I had undergone 
 since my reception in the community. I looked out 
 upon the future : it appeared to stretch before me, even 
 into eternity, a drear path on which no beam of sun- 
 light would fall to cheer, and in which no voice of kin- 
 dred love would breathe its music of consolation to my 
 heart. I sighed for my home. In desolation of spirit, 
 I mourned for its remembered love. But the fearful 
 consciousness came to me that I was severed eternal- 
 ly from all that made life dear. At length I arose, 
 dressed, and groped my way along the cloister leading 
 to the choir, and from thence down the narrow flight 
 of stairs into the chapeL It was dark, save for the few 
 rays that streamed from the solitary light which burned 
 dimly in the sanctuary. Kneeling before the altar, I 
 fastened my eyes upon the crucifix above it. Long 
 and earnestly I gazed, but the feelings that filled my 
 soul were too deep to find repose in the contemplation 
 of any material object. I bowed my head upon the 
 railing, and wept. Ere long, the image of Him who had 
 suffered arose to my view ; the pure and holy Savior 
 of the world, w^hose mild, benignant eyes, in their pity- 
 ing tenderness, penetrated to the depths of my wretch- 
 ed heart, and shed a blessed hope upon its gloom. 
 I prayed — prayed earnestly, and from the heart ; my 
 
TOKENS OF SISTERLY REaAIlD. 167 
 
 desires flowed from its inmost depths. "With stream- 
 ing eyes and unutterable groans, I asked Him, the Sav- 
 ior of the world, to deliver me from this prison, this den 
 of cruelty and hypocrisy. I believe it to be the only 
 time I j)rayed from my heart while in the institution. 
 
 With this outburst of emotion, this pouring forth of 
 my grief to God in spirit and in truth, I found relief, 
 and became composed and calm. 
 
 I know not how long I had been keeeling, when I 
 was startled by deep-drawn sighs and sobs, proceed- 
 ing from the direction of the *' seven dolors" altar,* 
 which is at one side of the chapel door, under the 
 choir. Fearing observation, I arose, and hastening 
 down one side of the chapel, reached the stairs leading 
 to the choir. As I entered the choir, I saw a dark 
 figure glide past me, and go into a small passage be- 
 hind the organ. Probably this person was in search 
 of the poor heart-broken creature whom I had left 
 weeping so bitterly at the foot of the "seven dolors" 
 altar. Fortunately I escaped notice, and, softly clos- 
 ing the door behind me, reached my cell just before 
 the bell rang for morning prayers in the chapel. 
 
 * An altar, that is, dedicated to the *' seven sorrows" of the Virgin 
 Mary — " septem dolores " 
 
168 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIL 
 
 CRUELTIES INFLICTED. 
 
 So far as my own observation and experience can 
 attest, nothing is more mistaken than the notion which 
 has led so many to the cloisters, namely, that the holy 
 and religious life of the mm, or, as at St. Joseph's, of 
 the Sister of Charity, delivers her from the liability 
 to fall into the grosser passions of the world, such as 
 envy, malice, hatred, jealousy, anger, passionate love, 
 etc. These evil susceptibilities of human frailty exist 
 in their fullest perfection and development among the 
 inmates of the convent. 
 
 The even rule of justice is not more rigorously car- 
 ried out there than among men in general, nor do the 
 heavenly dictates of pure charity ahvays animate and 
 control the Superiors of that "house of charity," but 
 partiality, favoritism, prejudice, and cruelty exhibit 
 their baleful influence throughout the community. Of 
 this, if it were necessary, numerous instances might be 
 recounted — acts so oppressive and severe that I verily 
 believe they were performed with the purpose of de- 
 stroying the health, as well as of cowing the spirit. 
 If in this suspicion I do WTong to the perpetrators of 
 those acts, God, who alone reads the heart, and knows 
 what my sufferings have been, w^ill, I trust, forgive me. 
 
CRUELTIES INFLICTED. 169 
 
 It would be natural to expect that a system of fa- 
 voritism would extensively prevail within the walls of 
 such an institution, not only as regards the Mother 
 Superior, who dispenses her indulgence and partiality 
 among those upon whom she can rely, or whom she 
 wishes to attach to herself, but also with respect to 
 the priests and certain members of the community. 
 Jealousy also exerts a potent sway throughout the 
 sisterhood. It is no rare thing to witness the features 
 of a beautiful girl convulsed and distorted with passion 
 when she passes a rival, who exults for a season in the 
 triumph she has achieved, but who, poor deluded vic- 
 tim ! soon is brought to experience like sensations of 
 anger and thirst for revenge upon her own desertion for 
 more attractive objects of priestly favor and desire. 
 
 Here I shall mention occurrences as they come up 
 to my remembrance, with a view to illustrate the pow- 
 er and disposition of those who exercise authority in 
 the institution to annoy and oppress such individuals 
 as may have displeased them. 
 
 The intensity of these passions can be only aug- 
 mented by the necessity of keeping them pent up and 
 disguised from perception and discovery, or by their 
 uncontrolled violence among those whose rank elevates 
 them above the need of disguise. When occasionally 
 permitted to manifest themselves at a fitting opportu- 
 nity, they burst forth in redoubled vehemence. I my- 
 self have frequently been made the subject of these 
 exhibitions. Eegarded from the outset with jealousy 
 as ''thQj?et Josephine," I was visited with every an- 
 noyance that could be devised by certain individuals 
 in the community. At one time, on the pretense that 
 II 
 
iVO MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 I liad knelt and kissed the floor too near the door in 
 the novitiate, I was reported by a sister to the mistress 
 of novices, who made me do penance by kneeling be- 
 fore the altar until permission should be given me to 
 leave, and I was kept in that painful posture nearly 
 three hours. Another time, as I was passing by the 
 side of another sister through a doorway, she thrust 
 me violently against the jamb, pressing with her whole 
 strength upon me, and with such force as to break my 
 beads to pieces, the crucifix and other pieces falling to 
 the floor, scattered in every direction. In a third in- 
 stance, I found myself watched and persecuted with- 
 out intermission by a sister who had charge of the 
 sewing. She would consequently assign to me the 
 worst and most difficult work she could find, telling 
 me to perform it in a certain way ; then, when done, 
 she would say it was wrong, and order me to pick it 
 out and do it over in some other way. This accom- 
 plished, she would finally report me for doing it im- 
 properly, and tell falsehoods to substantiate the accu- 
 sation. 
 
 One morning, a slip of paper, containing the names 
 of those who had been called upon to make the "rep- 
 etition" of their meditations, was found upon the table, 
 torn across the middle. A sister came to me and said, 
 "You tore that piece of paper; you had no right to 
 do so ; I will report you." I denied the charge, know- 
 ing nothing of the deed, and not having been near the 
 table. She insisted on criminating me, and reported 
 me accordingly. 
 
 Going up stairs one evening to my cell, I discover- 
 ed something like a heap of clothes lying on one of tlic 
 
CEUELTIES INFLICTED. 171 
 
 broad steps ; I heard, also, moans and lamentations. 
 Tliere was but one lamp burning very dimly in the 
 cloister, and putting out my foot to ascertain what the 
 object before me was, I discovered it to be sister J. 
 ^- — -^ ^^ ^^^(^<^ memory. Giving her no very gentle 
 kick by way of retaliation, I passed on to my cell. 
 She was indeed ill, as I afterward learned, and needed 
 commiseration ; but the feeling was one which had not 
 obtained much cultivation in my breast since entering 
 the institution, where it was very seldom exercised by 
 others. 
 
 About a quarter after nine o'clock one very cold 
 evening, the mistress of novices came to me in a state 
 of unusual excitement, and said, " Sister Josephine, I 
 want you to go to the chapel, and see if all the doors 
 are closed, and if every thing is right there, and if 
 nothing is missing about the altar." To do this, I 
 would have to grope my way through a dark passage^ 
 m the basement to the stairs leading up to the chapel. 
 Somewhat terrified at the thought of performing this 
 errand alone, I obeyed nevertheless. On reaching the 
 lobby that led into the church, I found the inner door 
 open. I walked slowly to the door, and looked into 
 the church, when I heard a noise like the sullen growl 
 of a dog, and a ratthng as of a chain ; and by the dim 
 light of the lamp before the altar, I saw a dark form 
 before the altar of the " seven dolors." I ventured to 
 approach, and found it was a member of the commu- 
 nity ; who, I knew not then, nor have I since learned ; 
 but it was one whom I have seen at other times. She 
 was old and decrepit, and nearly blind, and used to 
 go, about that hour of the night, to pray in the chapel 
 
172 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 and say lier rosary. She always carried her books 
 with her, wrapped in a yellow pocket-handkerchief, 
 though she could not see to read. 
 
 Not observing any thing else of an unusual charac- 
 ter in the chapel, I turned to go out, groping my way 
 back. I closed the door after nie, and reached the 
 brick corridor. When near the statue of St. Vincent, 
 by a light in the novitiate I could see the mistress of 
 novices coming out of that room, and approaching the 
 spot where I stood. Though I saw her, she could not 
 see me. At once I determined to frighten her, in re- 
 turn for sending me upon that errand. She was walk- 
 ing very lightly, as though in fear of something. I 
 stationed myself on one side of the statue, and, as she 
 drew near me, rushed out against her, and crowded 
 her ao-ainst the stone wall on the outer side. She ut- 
 
 o 
 
 tered a cry of terror, and I fled rapidly down the cor- 
 ridor, and thence to my cell. 
 
 Although the mistress of novices seemed to enter- 
 tain an aversion for me, yet the Mother Superior treat- 
 ed me at times in a very different manner, showing me 
 marked favor, and this may have instigated the hatred 
 manifested toward me by the former. 
 
 I was several times sent for by the Lady Superior 
 to accompany her as -a companion in her drives. On 
 these occasions she had an attendant in the carriage 
 and a colored driver on the box. Once or twice we 
 passed through the town of Emmettsburg, but I was 
 not privileged to look out of the carriage, which was a 
 close one, and was directed to keep my eyes cast down. 
 The impossibility of an escape at such times will be 
 apparent. The town of Emmettsburg is chiefly Eo- 
 
CRUELTIES INFLICTED. 173 
 
 man Catholic ; many of its inhabitants are dependent 
 on the institution for support. The Lady Superior is 
 a great favorite among them. She did not stop any 
 where to make visits on these occasions. An attempt 
 to leave the carriage would not only have proved use- 
 less at the time, but would have subjected me to se- 
 vere punishment, and exposed me to closer confine- 
 ment. We wore, in driving out, the habit usually 
 worn by the community. My place was at the Supe- 
 rior's side on the back seat, the front seat being occu- 
 pied by the other sister or attendant accompanying us. 
 We- entered the carriage from the Superior's room, 
 near which it had been driven up to an inner gate 
 situated in a wall between two buildings; through 
 this gate we passed into the carriage, and there we 
 left it on our return. I was never permitted to leave 
 the Superior's side during this time. 
 
 For these marks of favor bestowed by the Lady 
 Superior I have noticed that the jealousy of some was 
 awakened, as also when a medal of the Virgin Mary, 
 called the " medal of the immaculate conception," was 
 presented to me by a priest. This medal was placed 
 upon my beads, and thus worn in sight ; and the sis- 
 ters would say, as I passed them, " The Superior's 
 pet ; the priests' pet ; I know where that came from," 
 etc. They would take hold of the medal and exam- 
 ine the inscription, which read as follows, in French : 
 "O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us, who have 
 recourse to thee." 
 
 This medal, I may state, was the second of the kind 
 presented in the institution. It was made, I think, of 
 gilded brass. The first one was given to a novice 
 
174 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 who had been converted to the Catholic persuasion, 
 and was older than myself in that faith. Many of the 
 sisters showed evident signs of jealousy toward her, 
 which I observed the more, perhaps, from being on 
 the alert Avlien placed in the same category, and made 
 the object of similar remarks, looks, and actions, small 
 in themselves, but indicative of spiteful feeling. 
 
 Several of the vowed sisters wear a medal of St. 
 Dominic, the virtues of which are said to shield the 
 wearer from sickness, peril, and other injuries. It is 
 worn as a charm to secure this protection. The in- 
 scription is in four letters, with a cross, the meaning 
 of which I did not know, nor did any of the sisters 
 within my knowledge. These medals were given by 
 the Superior as tokens of regard. 
 
TRIAL OF MY YOCATION. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XXXin. 
 
 TEIAL OF MY VOCATION. 
 
 It was about two months previous to my escape 
 from the institution, when, entering the corridor one 
 day on my way to the chapel, I observed a spy who 
 had been placed there to watch those who were going 
 thither. As I approached, she rushed toward me, and 
 pinching me by the arm, she said, hissing through her 
 closed teeth, " Didn't you hear the bell ?" Though it 
 was silence-hour, I answered her, " Yes, I heard the 
 bell." This ofFense was reported, and I was punished 
 for it. I supposed the sister to be jealous of me, but 
 for what cause I knew not. 
 
 At another time — it was on Sunday, at the close 
 of the silence-hour, and the bell was ringing for ves- 
 pers — an act of cruelty was perpetrated toward me, 
 which likewise I have been unable to account for. 
 The sisters had formed the rank to proceed to chapel, 
 and I was in the rear. The mistress of novices came 
 forward, and struck me upon the forehead with her 
 clenched fist. I looked with amazement into her face, 
 but durst not speak, as it was a season of strict si- 
 lence. She bade me keep my eyes down, at the same 
 time repeating the blow ; then catching hold of the 
 ends of my black silk " capot," which were tied loose- 
 
176 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 Ij under my chin, slie drew tliem so tightly around 
 my throat as for a moment to deprive me of breath. 
 I struggled to get free, hut recent illness had rendered 
 me very weak. I then fell on my knees before her, 
 and uttered a loud scream, for I began to fear she 
 would take my life. Tliere was no one to help me. 
 The last novice who had passed through the door, in 
 the rank, did not dare to turn and see what had occa- 
 sioned the scream. 
 
 When I could speak I begged her to spare my life, 
 and asked what I had done to merit such treatment. 
 She answered not a word, but dragged me across the 
 novitiate to the passage beyond, loosening and draw- 
 ing alternately -the ends of my "capot." As soon as 
 she released her grasp I arose, but was forced to cling 
 to the raiHng of the stairs for support. 
 
 She then said to me, ''J did not tJmik you icould 
 talce it so ivell.^^ I begged her again to tell me what 
 I had done, but she did not reply. I told her that I 
 would go to the priest's room, and see the Superior 
 about it ; when she rushed toward me again, and tak- 
 ing me by the arm, shook me violently, saying, " Go 
 if you dare, and I will follow you." She then order- 
 ed me to the chapel, where all the community had by 
 this time assembled for prayers. 
 
 Trembling and weeping, I obeyed ; and after serv- 
 ice I spoke to the ]\Iother Superior, but could obtain 
 no satisfaction from her. Shortly after, I saw the Su- 
 perior, and told him my trouble. Patting me on the 
 head, he said, " I must not mind it ; it was only a 
 trial of my vocation — a trial sent from God ; T should 
 like the life after a while ;" and thus, while he endeav- 
 
TRIAL OP MY VOCATION. 177 
 
 ored to soothe my wounded feelings, he justified the 
 act. 
 
 I have said that I had reason from the first to re- 
 gard mysehf as an object of peculiar hatred on the part 
 of the mistress of novices, and I may here remark that 
 she was of foreign birth, very astute in her perceptions, 
 keen, shrewd, and penetrating, and had doubtless dis- 
 cerned, or tliought she discerned, in my character a 
 trait of firmness amounting to obstinacy, which would 
 develop itself whenever I should be convinced of the 
 duplicity practiced in that institution, and therefore I 
 would never be a reliable " Sister of Charity." 
 
 The Lady Superior, a perfect lady in her deport- 
 ment, and possessed of a powerful intellect and a pro- 
 found knowledge of the human heart, mild, bland, and, 
 withal, very discriminating, I have reason to believe 
 had not so read my character, but persuaded herself 
 that I would yet become a willing and perfectly obe- 
 dient " daughter of St.Yincent." 
 H2 
 
178 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXiy. 
 
 HUMILITY. 
 
 I WAS ordered one day by an officer of tlie institu- 
 tion to scrub some stains from tlie floor of the porch, 
 where grease had been accidentally spilled by a sister. 
 The day was intensely cold, and at first I was in- 
 clined to refuse ; but the order being reiterated in an 
 authoritative tone, I dared not do so. Frequently 
 have I seen the blood oozing from the chapped hands 
 of those engaged in laborious duties under similar cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 It was in consequence of such a want of "humil- 
 ity"* on my part that the mistress of novices once re- 
 marked to me she wished I had been in the commu- 
 nity during the life of Sister Daserai, who had died a 
 short time before my entrance, and whose grave was 
 yet fresh in the cemetery. This person was a native 
 of France, the daughter of a marquis, and is said to 
 have been very beautiful, of a noble and commanding 
 appearance. She was dressed, on her arrival, in black, 
 having been but a short time a widow. Though per- 
 
 * How strikingly is this false sentiment rebuked in those prophetic 
 words of the apostle, where he condemns those things ^'ivhich have 
 indeed a show of wisdom in will-ivorship, and humility, and neglecting 
 of the body ; not in any honor, to the satisfying of the flesh." — Col., 
 ii., 23. 
 
HIBIILITY. 179 
 
 suaded to enter St. Joseph's, she would not at first 
 comply with the rules of the community, which were 
 not strictly enforced by the officers in her case, owing 
 to the high station she had occupied in society, and 
 her great wealth. She could not hear the idea of 
 drinking out of a tin cup, or -of washing her hands in 
 a tin basin, and positively refused to do so. Her 
 arms, from unaccustomed exposure, having become 
 rough, she would often endeavor to hide them with 
 her hands and sleeves. 
 
 The Superior, seeing that this sister lacked "hu- 
 mility," determined to set about humbling her pride. 
 She was assigned the most laborious work in the house. 
 In exchange for the silk dress she wore on entering, 
 a coarse, patched habit was given her. Soon, finding 
 that her will was held in subjection, and that she must 
 renounce it entirely, she became convinced "that Al- 
 mighty God would be pleased with her spirit of humil- 
 ity," and no longer refused to comply with the wishes 
 of her superiors. 
 
 Her duties were increased daily, and were performed 
 to a gTcater extent even than required. She would 
 scrub the floor until the blood streamed from her 
 hands, and would say to a sister who chanced to be 
 passing by, " See the blood streaming fi'om my hands 
 — it is all for our Lord." Her mind was in such a 
 state that she believed every untoward event to hap- 
 pen by the will of God. Should a fly alight on the 
 bread, or the molasses, or the soup she was eating, 
 she would not brush it away, but would eat it, because 
 she thought such to be God's will. While at her du- 
 ties she was constantly saying her prayers, making 
 
180 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 aspirations, fasting, etc. " She lost lier health," said 
 the mistress of novices to me, "because the Lord 
 loved her, and wished to take her to himself." 
 
 Often would she rise at midnight to pray, and pass 
 the entire night at her devotions. If a member of the 
 community spoke to her, she would utter no reply. 
 When taken ill and sent to the infirmary, she refused 
 to take the medicine given her, and requested to be 
 put on duty there. Work was assigned her, which 
 was faithfully performed, as the mistress of novices 
 said, "in a spirit of mortification and penance." 
 
 Soon after entering the infirmary, on account of the 
 heavy work she performed, as well as the prayers and 
 penances she continued to observe, she was compelled, 
 in an almost dying condition, to take to her bed. 
 There, however, she would not recline upon her pil- 
 low, but, supported in a sitting posture, would pass 
 her time in sewing and knitting, until she became too 
 weak to hold the needles in her tremulous and almost 
 transparent hands. 
 
 Here, as the mistress of novices narrated these facts 
 to me, I remarked, " She must have had the consump- 
 tion, mother." 
 
 "Yes, my child," replied she, in her blandest tones, 
 and gazing into my face ; " 'tis a part of our vocation." 
 
 During her illness in the infirmary she would often 
 decline taking any nourishment, and when she con- 
 sented to do so, she ate the food with a number of 
 flies that had alighted upon it. "This she did for 
 mortification," said my informant. She would lie 
 awake all night, making such aspirations as these: 
 " Sweet Jesus ! Holy Mother ! Holy St. Joseph ! pray 
 
HUMILITY. 181 
 
 for me." " I wish you could have seen her," said the 
 mistress of novices, "when she died. Her large black 
 eyes were fixed upon the crucifix, and she requested 
 us to light the candles upon the table at the foot of 
 her bed, on which the crucifix stood. O sister ! she 
 was a living saint, and at her death was admitted at 
 once into the presence of our Lord and blessed Moth- 
 er; she melted away like a print of butter!" 
 Such was the example I was desired to imitate. 
 
182 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 SELF-MO KT IF I CATION. 
 
 The foregoing narrative will serve to exemplify tlie 
 nature of the subjects to whicli our contemplations in 
 tlie community were habitually drawn as worthy to 
 be admired and followed. I may now mention some 
 few of the historical models whose characters we were 
 accustomed to study with peculiar veneration. 
 
 The life of St. Theresa, founder of the Order of re- 
 formed Carmelites, was often rehearsed for our special 
 edification. She was a Carmelite nun, a native of 
 Spain, and undertook to revive the former austerities 
 of the community to which she belonged. Her his- 
 tory, written in French, was in the library, and was 
 frequently read. This order is the most strict of all 
 except the Trappist. There is but one Carmelite nun- 
 nery in this country — that, namely, which is located 
 in Aisquith Street, Baltimore. I have already given 
 some account of its severe discipline. 
 
 A favorite theme of narration at St. Joseph's was 
 the life of the Princess Louise, daughter of Louis XI Y. 
 of France, who became a Carmelite nun in her father's 
 palace. 
 
 By the aid of a maid-servant and a nun who were 
 in her confidence, she made her profession, and hav- 
 
SELF-MORTIFICATION. 183 
 
 ing procured the tunic worn by. tlie sisters, she wore 
 it in order to accustom herself to its use. After this 
 she obtained the hair shirt, and wore it also under her 
 princely robes, without the knowledge of her royal 
 parent. She had an utter dislike to the odor of tal- 
 low ; but, as the Carmelites use tallow candles, she 
 caused her servant to procure some, and every night 
 would burn one- — at first for a short time, as the smell 
 sickened her ; and thus she accustomed herself to it. 
 In a very small room near her own she had placed an 
 iron bedstead, with a hard mattress, and, before re- 
 tiring to her own apartment, she would recline for a 
 while on this Carmelite bed, until so used to it that 
 she could there pass the whole night. Thus it was 
 that she practiced mortification of the flesh. She aft- 
 erward entered the nunnery, and it is related that on 
 one occasion she was sent to scour the pots and ket- 
 tles in the kitchen. She was robed in a brocade, " cou- 
 leur de rose," and this dress has been preserved, to 
 show that even a princess could perform menial offices. 
 Not knowing how to do such work, she ignorantly 
 cleaned the outside of the vessel ; but, when told that 
 it was the inside that should be cleaned, she cheerfully 
 scoured that also. 
 
 These instances of humility on the part of a prin- 
 cess were held up for our instruction ; and my own 
 feelings, in view of such relations, were at times deep- 
 ly exercised, as I was urged to emulate this spirit of 
 so-called humility and mortification of the flesh. 
 
184 MISS bunkley's book, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYI. 
 
 INSANITY AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 
 
 Sister John Patientia, as she was called, was a 
 person considerably past the period of youth, and 
 somewhat faded in aspect, hut still retaining the traces 
 of extraordinary beauty. She would often break the 
 rules of the institution, but would receive no punish- 
 ment for the offense. She would sometimes speak in 
 time of silence, and try to make the novices laugh. 
 Entering the novitiate with a mischievous glance 
 around her, she would utter some humorous remark, 
 provoking almost irresistible mirth. 
 
 If, as the wise man says, there be " a time to laugh," 
 it is assuredly not during any portion of a novice's life. 
 The rules forbid any approach to merriment ; a seri- 
 ous face is continually to be worn, and any thing like 
 levity would be severely punished. 
 
 This alone, it might be supposed, would of itself 
 impair the health of an individual endowed by nature 
 with a lively and cheerful disposition. But, as I am 
 not qualified to judge of this effect, I simply state the 
 fact, and leave physiologists to determine. 
 
 Sister Patientia was very talented and highly edu- 
 cated. She spoke several languages fluently, and had 
 formerly been a teacher in the academy. Her duties 
 
INSANITY AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 185 
 
 at present were to attend to the corridor, or outer 
 gallery; sweeping the brick floor, brushing the win- 
 dows, and removing the dust from the leaves of the 
 plants ; scrubbing the platform and steps, and wash- 
 ing the windows. It was her duty also to ring the 
 great bell of the cloisters for the devotions of the com- 
 munity. This is the sister who had charge of the shoe- 
 room, and of whom I have elsewhere spoken. 
 
 Sometimes, as the sisters were passing her in the 
 corridor, she would rest her chin on her broom, look 
 facetiously at them, making faces, and stationing her- 
 self in their way to obstruct their progress. She did 
 not take her meals with the community, but break- 
 fasted at about ten, and dined at four. Her portion 
 would be placed upon the corner of the table, near the 
 door. She would remove the plate that covered it, 
 and then perform her devotions before the crucifix in 
 a manner calculated to excite merriment, making the 
 sign of the cross with a rapid jerk. Then, looking 
 significantly upon her food, she would go away and 
 leave it untouched; or, perhaps, taking a mouthful, 
 make a grimace, mutter to herself, and walk hastily 
 away through the corridor. I seized an opportunity 
 one day to ask her why she did not take her meals 
 more regularly. She replied, " One should take more 
 care of the soul than of the body ;" and her tone and 
 manner were so ludicrous that I could not help laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 Sometimes, on meeting the Superior in the corridor, 
 she would kneel down, and kiss the hem of her habit 
 with an air of the most devout worship. One day 
 she took me with her to her cell, and commenced to 
 
186 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 give me a short liistoiy of her early life ; of the wealth 
 of her family ; how she entered the institution, leaving 
 home without her parents' knowledge or consent ; how 
 she came to tliis country, etc. Fearing lest I should 
 overstay my time, I attempted to leave. " Wait a 
 little," she replied, "till I tell you how much I have 
 suffered and am suffering now." Pointing to her bed, 
 she said, " I have not rested on that bed for years, 
 but am forced to remain in a sitting posture all night, 
 on account of a large ulcer on my side, and a difficulty 
 in breathing that will not suffer me to lie down." 
 
 There Avas another sister in the house who was also 
 said to be insane, yet was allowed to go about the 
 house, and to attend mass and confession. I remem- 
 ber meeting her once on the corridor, when she came 
 rushing toward me, and, shaking her clenched fist, 
 shrieked, "Novice! get out of my way ! " I jumped 
 over an oleander box to avoid her, in great alarm. 
 
 The reader Avill not be surprised to hear that there 
 are insane inmates of these institutions. There is an 
 apartment for the insane which I have never entered. 
 I have occasionally seen insane persons come rushing 
 out of a door at the foot of a stairway leading to that 
 apartment, muttering and talking wildly. The un- 
 natural life they lead is, perhaps, the life of all others 
 most calculated to produce such effects. 
 
 Infirmity of body and insanity of mind I consider 
 the natural resjilts of convent life. 
 
187 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYIL 
 
 ORDER OF "SISTERS OF CHARITY." 
 
 The institution of St. Joseph's is not one of th6se 
 establishments denominated " close convents," in 
 which the nuns, having once assumed the veil, are 
 perpetually immured. Its ostensible purpose is the 
 education and training of its inmates for deeds of char- 
 ity and mercy. These persons, having received the' 
 requisite instruction and discipline, are, lohen they can 
 he trusted^ dispatched to various stations, with the ob- 
 ject of exercising their functions and of attracting no- 
 tice to the order to which they belong. They consti- 
 tute a striking feature in the Roman Catholic Church, 
 and offer a continual and living text of laudation to 
 the priests, who point to them and to their "labors 
 of love" as beneficent fruits and appropriate illustra- 
 tions of the holy character of their religion.* There 
 
 * In so far as this order claims to be a voluntary association of 
 women for charitable purposes, under the title of Sisters of Charity, it 
 is no original creation of the Roman Catholic Church, but has actually 
 been borrowed from Protestantism. Among the Waldenses, the " Bo- 
 hemian Brothers," and the Moravians, there is a record of the exist- 
 ence of " deaconesses," as they were termed in the primitive age, as 
 early as 1457 ; but it was in the sixteenth century that Robert von 
 der Mark, Prince of Sedan in the Netherlands, founded the institution 
 of Protestant ''Demoiselles de Charitc" as he called them, and to this 
 institution he granted the revenues of suppressed monasteries. The 
 
188 MISS BUNKLEY'S BOOK. 
 
 are forty-one niission-liouses attached to the order 
 in the United States, numbering ahont five hundred 
 
 office so founded received a formal ecclesiastical recognition in 1568, 
 from the General Synod of the Reformed Church of the Lower Rhine 
 and the Netherlands. It was not until 1633, or sixty-five years later, 
 that Vincent de Paul established his order of Sisters of Charity. There 
 are now institutions bearing the title of houses of Protestant Sisters 
 of Charity, or Deaconesses, at Paris, Strasburg, Echallens, Berlin, 
 Utrecht, Stockholm, and Kaiserwerth. There is also one at Pittsburg 
 in our own country. Acting as nurses to the sick, teachers of reform- 
 atory schools, guardians of females released from prison, visitors of 
 the poor, and in other spheres of usefulness, these excellent women 
 are hound by no vow or obligation of obedience, but serve God with 
 the freedom and voluntary earnestness of intelligent Christians. They 
 number now many hundreds, of whom several are engaged at the 
 present moment in caring for the wounded and dying of the allied 
 armies before Sebastopol. The institution of Kaiserwerth, on the 
 Rhine, under the direction of the Reverend Pastor Fliedner and his 
 excellent wife, has sent forth no fewer than one hundred and eighty 
 of these deaconesses to different parts of the world. Its hospital con- 
 tains one hundred and twenty patients, its training institution for 
 deaconesses seventy-seven probationers ; the entire household, with 
 orphan asylum, infant school, etc., numbering three hundred and 
 ninety inmates. But while we cite these facts to show that the idea 
 of such charitable enterprises is not peculiar to Romanism, we would 
 not lay any great stress upon such developments of Christian charity, 
 remembering that the glory of our Protestantism resides not in a multi- 
 tude of formal organizations for the professed relief of human miseries, 
 but consists rather in those numberless, quiet, and unobtrusive channels 
 of individual beneficence which in Protestant countries now, as in the 
 primitive days of Christianity, carry material succor and spiritual con- 
 solation to the abodes of the destitute and friendless. And while, 
 thanks to the healthful tendencies of a pure religion, which elevates 
 the masses in mental capacity, and social comfort, and political well- 
 being, there is far from the same amount of physical distress to call 
 for alleviation in Protestant lands as in those where Romanism has 
 combined with civil despotism for ages past to crush the intellect and 
 degrade the life of the masses, we do not covet, in any sense, the 
 help of these conventual systems and establishments, which under- 
 take, by a mechanism controlling individual wills under a stern law of 
 
ORDER OF "SISTERS OF CHARITY." 189 
 
 members, including those at the central institution. 
 These are scattered in various cities and towns of the 
 country. Where there are but two sisters in a city 
 or town, they have their mission-house, their chapel, 
 and their separate confessional, at which the priest 
 on the station is always a frequent visitor. Wlien 
 their services are not too constantly in requisition, 
 they generally open a school, at which the children of 
 the poor are taught free of charge, and by which means 
 many proselytes are won to the Roman Catholic faith. 
 These communities are all under the control of the 
 Superior of St. Joseph's, w^hich is the " mother-house," 
 as it is styled, in this country. But this mother- 
 house is coimected with the house in Paris, which 
 is the centre of the whole order throughout the world, 
 comprising some five hundred and fifty-three estab- 
 lishments, with nearly nine tliousand members. This 
 is according to the best statistics I can obtain ; but in 
 the institution of St. Joseph's I was informed there 
 was a much larger number. 
 
 The fact that sisters are sent from the mother-house 
 to the different towns and cities throughout the coun- 
 try to exercise their vocation as nurses for the sick, 
 has been enlarged upon to refute and ridicule the idea 
 of any restraint or coercion to prevent members from 
 leaving the institution ; but this assertion must be re- 
 ceived with a considerable degree of allowance. It 
 should be recollected that the sisters who are thus sent 
 abroad go forth to establish new communities (" mis- 
 obedience to authority, the performance of those offices of mercy, 
 which, to be truly Christian, must be the dictates of a free and cheer- 
 ful piety. 
 
190 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 sions" they are called) subordinate to tlie principal one, 
 where the same rules are observed as at head-quarters. 
 On these missions only the trustworthy — those, name- 
 ly, upon whom the Superior can implicitly rely — are 
 sent. But a little reflection will convince the reader 
 that, even if so disposed, it would be a difficult thing 
 for a sister to escape from her bonds. A constant su- 
 pervision is kept by the priest and the sister-servant 
 on the station, who would instantly report any refrac- 
 tory symptoms, and she would be recalled. In a 
 strange place, too, far from her friends, it would require 
 a strong resolution to desert her charge, and appeal to 
 the public, especially when she knows that the entire 
 Catholic population would combine to discredit her 
 statement and destroy her character. Few would dare 
 to contend with such considerations as these. By far 
 the greater number would prefer to endure evils with 
 which they were familiar rather than encounter un- 
 known trials in a new position. 
 
 The number of inmates at St. Joseph's, including 
 postulants, seminary sisters or novices, and professed 
 sisters, is about one hundred and forty — often more, but 
 seldom less. This number, of course, does not compre- 
 hend the boarders in the academy, of whom there are 
 sometimes as many as one hundred and fifty. From 
 this mother-house, members are transferred, at the 
 option of the Superior, to the con-esponding institu- 
 tions in different parts of the United States — even to 
 California, and also to France. This removal is in or- 
 der to supply vacancies occasioned by sickness or death 
 in the subordinate communities, and sometimes to es- 
 tablish communities in places where their existence 
 
ORDER OF "SISTERS OF CHARITY." 191 
 
 may be deemed politic or necessary, as the means of 
 increasing the influence of the Church in such locali- 
 ties. 
 
 The Sisters of Charity have for years constituted a 
 theme of enthusiastic praise and commendation, even 
 on the part of many Protestants. Their purity, their 
 self-devotion, their self-denial, their courage in exposure 
 to disease while ministering to the wants of the sick 
 and dying, in crowded hospitals, whose fetid atmos- 
 phere is full of peril, have been lauded to the skies. 
 Turgid eulogies of their gentleness and beauty, their • 
 tender ministrations, the soft touch of their white 
 hands, and the sympathetic tear called forth by the 
 sufferings of their patients, have been so often the sub- 
 ject of newspaper paragTaphs and sentimentalities of 
 novels, that public sentiment has been warmly en- 
 listed in their advocacy and defense. But it may be 
 asked, in all candor, is there any need of the show and 
 parade with which the good deeds of these sisters are ex- 
 posed to the views of the world ? Are they the only be- 
 ings who tend the bed of sickness, or assuage the pangs 
 of disease ? Are those only to be regarded as acts of 
 Christian benevolence which are accomplished by drill- 
 ed and disciplined cohorts, who, like the soldiers of an 
 army, resign themselves to the government of a single 
 will, and mechanically or slavishly obey it ? Is this 
 method so infinitely superior to that of the numerous 
 Protestant associations throughout the length and 
 breadth of our land, and the far more numerous indi- 
 vidual missionaries of mercy, who not only tend the 
 sick in the hospitals, but, far more, who search out the 
 poor, the widow, the fatherless, and let in the liglit of 
 
192 
 
 charity upon tlieir comfortless abodes ? who instruct 
 the ignorant, comfort the desponding, and reclaim the 
 fallen, and this of their own free, heaven-inspired 
 choice and uncontrolled purpose, and without regard 
 to sectarian limits, but rather extending to all, of ev- 
 ery name and nation, an equal share of generous re- 
 lief? Tlie appropriation of all these high-toned pane- 
 gyrics to a vowed community of Eoman Cathohcs, 
 whose main design is avowedly to proselyte by means 
 of their various enterprises of benevolence, reflects an 
 indirect slander upon the charity of Protestants, as 
 though their less ostentatious course were actuated" by 
 inferior motives. 
 
 I entertained formerly the same extravagant ideas 
 of the pure and unselfish life of this order, but expe- 
 rience and observation have dispelled the illusion. 
 The fact is, that the whole system of popery is one of 
 proselytism, toward the fulfillment of which every in- 
 strument is brought to bear; and the Order of " Sis- 
 ters of Charity" forms not the least efficient part of the 
 forces employed by Komanism, certainly not the least 
 influential of the appliances by which the doctrines of 
 popery are infused into the breasts of the credulous 
 and unwary. 
 
 The community of St. Joseph's is under the direc- 
 tion of two superiors — the "Mother Superior," and a 
 priest of the Order of St. Lazare. It would be an 
 anomaly in Eomanism for an institution to exist with- 
 out the participation of the "holy fathers" in its gov- 
 ernment. The Lazarists have a " house" at Emmetts- 
 burg, and pay frequent visits to St. Joseph's to hear 
 confessions and for other purposes. They are styled 
 
ORDER OF ** SISTERS OF CHARITY." 193 
 
 in the community the "sons," as the sisterhood are 
 the " daughters" of charity, regarding each other as 
 brethren and sisters of one great family. The two or- 
 ders are thus nearly allied, and operate in association. 
 They are governed by the same religious authorities, 
 the ecclesiastical superior of the one being the director 
 of the other, and both having the same chief confessor. 
 They affect a community of interests, and mutually ex- 
 tol each others' merits, and commend the piety, devo- 
 tedness, and purity of each others' lives. One of these 
 priests is always at the institution, where he is regard- 
 ed with the utmost reverence and affection, and his 
 counsels are appreciated as the commands of Deity. 
 
 I 
 
194 MISS BUNKLEYS BOOK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYIII. 
 
 THE ACADEMY. 
 
 Connected with St. Joseph's there is a school for 
 the instruction of young ladies, at which the most ac- 
 complished and reliable of the sisterhood are teachers. 
 The academy is a separate building, but attached to 
 the other edifices by covered porches, and the pupils 
 have their distinct refectory and sleeping apartments, 
 which are presided over by sisters appointed for the 
 purpose, and denominated " angels," as before stated. 
 
 This school is managed with consummate dexterity 
 and ability; so much so, that, with few exceptions, 
 the scholars become ardently attached to their teach- 
 ers, and are warm advocates of the interests of the 
 community. This is no matter for wonder, as they 
 see only the bright side of the picture, and have not 
 the most remote conception of the privations, the in- 
 trigues, and the horrors within. They behold an as- 
 semblage of pious recluses, who have parted with all 
 the vanities of the world, and are preparing themselves, 
 by patient and meek self-denial, to assuage the suffer- 
 ings of their fellow-creatures on earth, and render 
 themselves meet for heaven. So fair is the hght, so 
 attractive the coloring of this poetic scene, that many, 
 having passed through their educational course in the 
 
THE ACADEMY. 195 
 
 academy, return to tlie institution, and enter upon 
 their novitiate, discovering too late their mistake, and 
 the terrible reality of the life before them. 
 
 Both the Jesuits and the " Sisters of Charity" are 
 adepts in teaching the young, having reduced the prac- 
 tice, by long experience and study, to a system almost 
 perfect. They know especially how to blend strict- 
 ness and discipline with kindness and indulgence, by 
 observing the characters and dispositions of those un- 
 der their charge. The pupils arc taught well, accord- 
 ing to the capacity of each, that their parents may be 
 satisfied with their progress and attainments, and may 
 speak in approving terms of the institution. At the 
 same time, every exertion is made to win the affec- 
 tions and secure the confidence of the scholars, that 
 they may stamp their young and impressible minds 
 with the doctrines of the Eoman Catholic Church, and, 
 if possible, allure them within the pale of the commu- 
 nity. Earely do these . attempts prove unsuccessful, 
 at least in creating a strong prepossession toward 
 those doctrines ; and the ideas implanted at the school 
 become deep-rooted and fruitful, unless checked in their 
 growth by the watchful care of parents and friends, 
 even this proving often unavailing. 
 
 At St. Joseph's all the pupils, or boarders, as they 
 are called, are required to attend mass once a day, 
 and to go through all the genuflexions and other forms 
 usual at that service. They do not, however, witness 
 those other religious exercises of the community, in 
 which devotion is made a pretext for the infliction of 
 torture ; they hear nothing of the rigid penances en- 
 joined for the slightest and most unintentional infrac- 
 
196 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tion of the rules ; tliej are ignorant of tlie unjust favor- 
 itism and tlie flagrant partialities exercised by those 
 in power. All is fairy-land to them. And should a 
 charge be made to this effect in the presence of a grad- 
 uate of the academy, by a sufferer from these prac- 
 tices, she would be denounced, as I have been, as a 
 fabricator of falsehoods, and a calumniator of the holy 
 sisterhood. 
 
 The extent to which the affections of the boarders 
 are gained, both by the Lazarist priests attached to 
 the institution and by the teachers of the academy, in- 
 cluding the j\Iother Superior, is scarcely credible. I 
 have known instances in which boarders have refused 
 to go home with their parents ; and one in particular, 
 in which a father visited his daughter at St. Joseph's, 
 when she manifested the most complete indifference to 
 his attentions, and even showed repugnance at his ca- 
 resses, weeping bitterly when told of his intention to 
 take her home, and angrily deshing to be left, even 
 when appealed to in the name of her mother. More 
 than once have I seen, with the blood tingling in my 
 veins, and the flush of indignation on my cheek, a 
 young girl of fifteen or sixteen reposing her head on 
 the breast of a young "Lazarist" as they walked to- 
 gether, his arm thrown over her shoulder. This, no 
 doubt, was innocent on her part, at least. She re- 
 garded him in the light of a father ; but what perni- 
 cious consequences might ensue from this familiarity ! 
 And was he performing the office of a holy guide ? 
 
 And yet Protestant parents will send their children 
 to be educated at Eoman Catholic institutions, delud- 
 ing themselves with the idle and silly notion that no 
 
THE ACADEMY. 197 
 
 effort will be made to indoctrinate them with popish 
 errors. Ave they not aware that this religion is one 
 of exclusive pretensions, and that, believing all with- 
 out its pale doomed to sure perdition, its members, if 
 sincere, are bound to use every effort for the conver- 
 sion of heretics, and their rescue from destruction? 
 If ignorant of this, their ignorance is unpardonable, 
 for it is the result of sheer indifference, or disinclina- 
 tion to inform themselves on the subject ; and thus to 
 hazard the temporal and eternal welfare of their most 
 precious jewels in slothful disregard of this all-import- 
 ant issue is a crime beyond excuse. The whole para- 
 phernalia of popery, from its enthroned vice-god at 
 Rome, to its humblest lay-member cringing at the feet 
 of his priest, is perpetually engaged in the business of 
 making proselytes : the clergy, to swell the ranks and 
 augment the influence of their fraternity ; and the lai- 
 ty, aside from all other motives, because they believe 
 that in so doing they are saving souls. Schools and 
 colleges afford the widest scope and the readiest means 
 of realizing these ends ; and hence the great number 
 of these institutions that have sprung up of late, in 
 every section of the land, attached to Jesuitical com- 
 munities and convents, where the craft of man and the 
 gentle persuasion of woman unite in bending the ten- 
 der character of youth, that the matured tree may de- 
 velop in accordance with popish distortion and dis- 
 ease.* 
 
 * While the influences brought to bear at these institutions upon the 
 pupils are generally such as to attract- their affection, and render them 
 contented, there are cases in which a sterner course is followed, and 
 in such cases the oppression is evidently irremediable. Coercive 
 means, as well as those of a persuasive character, can be used, in the 
 
198 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 When will American parents learn wisdom ? If 
 they consider it indispensable that their children be 
 sent from home for their education, are there not hund- 
 reds of Protestant schools, where every branch of 
 knowledge is taught by intelligent and experienced 
 teachers ; where every elegant -accomplishment can be 
 acquired, and all valuable instruction obtained? At 
 all events, let not the susceptible mind and heart of a 
 young girl be intrusted to the charge of Catholic nuns 
 and their clerical directors. Let not the precious ob- 
 
 academy as- in the sisterhood, to accomplish the work of bending the 
 will and the faculties to the purposes of Rome, inquiries have often 
 been addressed to me with reference to the opportunities of novices 
 for sending messages to their friends by means of the boarders. All 
 such modes of communication are precluded by the watchful care of 
 those in charge. The directress has the perusal of all letters written 
 by the boarders or sent to them. Protestant parents should under- 
 stand that their children are not allowed to correspond with them in an 
 unrestrained manner. Small, however, as the chances of any commu- 
 nication with friends may be in the academy, I feel assured that if any 
 suspicion of my discontent had been entertained, I should not have 
 been permitted to enter the academy for the purposes of teaching. 
 
 I may here mention the case of a child under my instruction at the 
 academy — a case which I am confident is only one among many : 
 Josephine Picuabia (such, I think, was the name) had been placed at 
 St. Joseph's by her parents, who were from Cuba, at a very early age. 
 She would frequently come to her lessons in tears, and, resting her 
 head on my bosom, would give vent to her sorrow, after exclaiming, 
 " Oh, sister, you are the only one that is kind to me !" She complained 
 of severe treatment; that she was whipped and beaten, and was in 
 terror of her life, yet could not inform her parents, as the directress 
 would not let her write home. 
 
 This child first became attached to me more particularly because my 
 name was the same with her own. I always treated her kindly, and 
 sympathized deeply with her distress. We were frequently left alone 
 in our music-room, and I had occasion to hear her grievances as I en- 
 deavored to soothe her into composure for her lessons. 
 
THE ACADEMY. 199 
 
 jects of parental solicitude and love— the Cornelian 
 jewels of American homes— be placed where their lus- 
 tre will be tarnished and their value lost ; when, in 
 this Protestant land, so many institutions have been 
 founded where the youthful mind may be properly 
 trained, and the gem, skillfully polished, may be re- 
 turned to adorn society and the world. 
 
200 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 NUNNERIES AND SCHOOLS. 
 
 It is proper that some explanation be given at this 
 point with reference to one of the objects of these Eo- 
 man Catholic institutions of learning, as it is one not 
 generaUj understood by the Protestant public. 
 
 Schools are first opened in connection with a new 
 enterprise of the Sisters of Charity, at their mission- 
 houses, for the reception of children belonging to the 
 poorer classes. This course at once establishes the 
 reputation of the order for benevolence and charity, 
 and serves to ingratiate that part of the population, 
 who do not fail to speak in terms of eulogy respecting 
 their amiable and disinterested benefactors. The sis- 
 ters have among them teachers highly competent to 
 give instruction in all the branches of female educa- 
 tion, even for the highest departments. Such teach- 
 ers can always be procured from the older and well- 
 established houses of the community, and that without 
 cost, save their maintenance merely. Very soon they 
 add "pay-scholars" to the number of their pupils ; and, 
 as the school becomes better known, the proportion of 
 such scholars augments, while the number of those 
 who are taught gratuitously diminishes. At length 
 there are none at all of the latter class, and then the 
 
NUNNEEIES AND SCHOOLS. 201 
 
 institution assumes the cliaracter of a select scliool. 
 Even though the prices of tuition may not greatly in- 
 crease, a selection will be made from the more wealthy 
 families, and such as will best suit the purposes and 
 designs of the managers. Next it becomes a board- 
 ing-school ; the prices arc advanced ; and in the course 
 of time a more strict discrimination is made in the re- 
 ception of pupils. The number is more and more 
 limited, until, a sufficient amount having been realized 
 from the proceeds of instruction, tlie object is attained, 
 and the school is abandoned altogether. 
 
 Collections are often made among the scholars to 
 add to the funds of the institution. At St. Joseph's 
 this was frequently done for some special purpose, as, 
 for instance, to beautify the grounds of mission-houses. 
 
 At the Visitation Convent in Baltimore, on the cor- 
 ner of Park and Centre Streets, the sisters had for- 
 merly a very extensive school, with a large number of 
 boarders. When I visited that convent prior to my 
 entrance at St. Joseph's, I was informed that the num- 
 ber of boarders w^as then limited to sixteen, and that 
 the school would soon be discontinued. I was also 
 told that a sufficient amount had been acquired for the 
 purchase of Mount de Sales, a beautifal and most val- 
 uable property, which cost over a million of dollars, and 
 is now, I learn, the residence of Father Deluol, the 
 Superior General of the order of Jesuits. The car- 
 riage of that institution was to have been sent for me 
 to visit Mount de Sales in company with a priest, but 
 I did not remain in Baltimore long enough to avail 
 myself of the opportunity. At the Carmelite nunnery 
 there was formerly a school, but not, I believe, a board- 
 
 12 
 
202 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ing-school, tliat institution being more strict and pri- 
 vate than others. The school is now given up alto- 
 gether ; so, at least, I was informed at St. Joseph's. 
 
 While on the subject of the accumulation of money 
 in these Roman Catholic convents, I may advert to 
 the fact that there is at St. Joseph's a treasurer^ who 
 occupies a small apartment adjoining the stationery- 
 room, and in which she sleeps at night. I have often 
 been sent to that room, and have there observed an 
 iron chest, in which I have seen a quantity of gold 
 coin and jewelry. Many of the statues are decorated 
 with valuable ornaments, such as diamond-rings, neck- 
 laces, gold crosses, etc. These are presents from vis- 
 itors and other friends. I knew one sister who wrote 
 to her parents for certain gold and silver articles of 
 great value, which she designed as presents for one of 
 the statues of the Virgin Mary. If the sisters indi- 
 vidually are poor, in accordance with their vow of pov- 
 erty, the community as a whole is wealthy, and the 
 Superiors exercise entire control over that wealth. 
 They have also an immense farm connected with the 
 establishment. 
 
FOUNDERS OF THE INSTITUTION. 203 
 
 CHAPTEE XL. 
 
 FOUNDERS OF THE INSTITUTION. 
 
 The " Conferences" have frequently been mention- 
 ed in these pages, and in connection with them the 
 "rules" laid down by the founder of the community. 
 These rules, which are contained in small books kept 
 under lock and key, have been handed down from St. 
 Vincent de Paul, who communicated them to the sis- 
 terhood. 
 
 A large and finely-executed portrait of this saint, 
 who was also the founder of the congregation of mis- 
 sions known as the Order of St. Lazare, hangs in the 
 chapel at St. Joseph's. He is there 4^resented as 
 holding a foundling in his arms, while at his side a 
 sister is seen taking another infant out of a basket. 
 
 The lives of St. Vincent de Paul and St. Francis de 
 Sales were frequently given us to read, as well as that 
 of Mother Seton, who originated the institution at Em- 
 mettsburg. Mrs. Seton had been a Protestant lady, 
 the daughter of an eminent physician in New York, 
 and the wife of a merchant of high character, a mem- 
 ber of the Protestant Episcopal Church. In 1803 she 
 accompanied her husband to Italy for the benefit of 
 his health ; he, however, expired shortly after reach- 
 ing Naples, and she was at once received into the fam- 
 
204 MISS blinkley's book. 
 
 ily of an Italian gentleman who had long been in com- 
 mercial correspondence Avith her husband. This gen- 
 tleman, a zealous Roman Catholic, undertook the con- 
 version of Mrs. Seton to his own faith. His influence 
 over her mind continued after her return to America, 
 and in 1805 she joined the Church of Rome, and was 
 rebaptized in St. Peter's, New York. 
 
 Being in a great measure deserted by her relations, 
 and obliged to resort to teaching for support, Mrs. Se- 
 ton removed shortly after her conversion to Baltimore, 
 where she opened a school, with the hope that, in pro- 
 cess of time, it might grow into " a society whose 
 members would be specially consecrated to God" — 
 that is to say, into a convent. She was joined by her 
 sister-in-law, and by a ]\Iiss Conway, of Philadelphia ; 
 and soon after this was invited by the priests of Bal- 
 timore to commence a " religious" establishment, for 
 the foundation of which a legacy of eight thousand 
 dollars had recently been left. 
 
 The vicinity of Emmettsburg having been selected 
 for the location of the projected sisterhood, a piece of 
 land south of the village was bought. At that time 
 the only tenement on the farm was a small stone 
 building, forming part of what is now used as the 
 wash-house of the institution. It stands at a short 
 distance from the main edifice, and is called the cradle 
 of St. Joseph's. 
 
 Mrs. Seton now assumed for herself and those who 
 joined her the title of " Sisters of St. Joseph," placing 
 themselves " under the protecting care of St. Joseph, 
 the faithful guardian of the Son of God upon earth." 
 In their new residence — a small house containing only 
 
FOUNDERS OF THE INSTITUTION. 205 
 
 one stoiy and an attic, witli two rooms on eacli floor — 
 sixteen persons were soon crowded together. They 
 were often reduced to the poorest fare, such as " car- 
 rot-coffee, salt pork, and buttermilk." Thus they " la- 
 bored at the work of their sanctification." " Conse- 
 quent upon this style of living to persons mostly 
 reared in luxury, the sisterhood was for several months 
 an infirmary." Miss Harriet Seton was the first vic- 
 tim. She was shortly followed by her sister Cecilia. 
 Mrs. Seton's eldest daughter, Anna, soon after sicken- 
 ed and died of consumption. Her death was proba- 
 bly induced by acts of violent mortification, which the 
 biographer characterizes as "heroic." " I half re- 
 proached her," said her mother, "for her little care of 
 her health : rising at the first bell, ever being on the 
 watch to ring it the moment the clock struck ; wash- 
 ing at the pump in the severest weather ; often eating 
 in the refectory what sickened her stomach." 
 
 The next who fell under this course of life was a 
 Miss Murphy. " On one occasion she was directed to 
 put her feet in warm water ; which the sister infirm a- 
 rian having brought, she put her feet into it, and imme- 
 diately withdrew them, observing that the water was 
 too hot ; but her attendant insisting that it w^as not 
 too warm, she returned her feet into the vessel, and 
 kept them there as long as she was required, although 
 it caused her intense pain, and produced an inflamma- 
 tion, from which she suffered for a long time after." 
 By such "assiduous practices of the virtues of her 
 state," we are told, " she soon became ripe for heaven." 
 
 In July, 1813, the society was regularly organized, 
 eighteen individuals taking upon themselves the vows 
 
206 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 of "poverty, chastity, and obedience." Meantime, 
 large additions were made, and continued to be made, 
 to the buildings and conveniences of the establishment. 
 The asylum, in which about fifty orphans, as near as 
 I can judge, are now kept, was the next building erect- 
 ed. It was at first occupied by the community. A 
 marble tablet in the wall of a room in this building 
 marks the spot where the bed of Mother Seton stood, 
 and where she died. 
 
 Although at this early period the natural fruits of 
 the system were produced in the suffering, sickness, 
 and death of the inmates, carrying out the idea which, 
 as I have already had occasion to observe, is still in- 
 culcated — that " consumption is a part of the vocation 
 of the sisters" — yet it seems that the system failed 
 then, as it does now, of producing that superior sanc- 
 tity of life and character which are perpetually claim- 
 ed as its result. So much may at least be inferred 
 from the following extract from an address of Mrs. Se- 
 ton, who was now called the IMother Superior, to her 
 sisters in profession: "How is it," she asks, "that 
 many of us keep the rule as to the letter of it, and 
 also look pious enough ? There is no want of good 
 will, nor idleness indulged ; and in a house where it 
 would seem so easy to become saints, you would say. 
 What is the matter ? Why are we not saints ? Why 
 is there so little progress in perfection ? Or, rather, 
 why are so many tepid^ heavy ^ discouraged^ and going 
 along MORE LIKE SLAVES IN A WORK-HOUSE than chil- 
 dren in their own homes, and the house of their Fa- 
 ther ?" The answer would seem easy for any one at 
 all acquainted with the spirit of Gospel obedience : 
 
FOUNDERS OF THE INSTITUTION. 207 
 
 Because the position, and the relations, and the occu- 
 pations pertaining to this unnatural mode of life are 
 such as Heaven has not chosen to ordain and bless for 
 the religious development and sanctification of human 
 
 souls. 
 
 One morning, meeting after mass a young sister 
 who had been absent from the service, Mother Seton 
 looked her steadfastly in the face, and asked, "Why 
 did you not come to our Lord for a recompense this 
 morning ?" " Tilother,'' answered the sister, " I felt a 
 little weak, and took a cup of coffee before mass." 
 "Ah! my dear child!" said Mother Seton, "how 
 could you sell your God for a miserable cup of cof- 
 fee?" Nothing, it has been well said, weakens the 
 moral sense more than hair-breadth distinctions and 
 minute observances. i\Iother Seton's life for a series 
 of years was full of these. She rivaled the Hindoos 
 in self-mortification. She would deny herself fine 
 writing paper, and for pens she used the stumps of 
 quills abandoned by her pupils. 
 
 Another death soon succeeded in the institution : it 
 was that of the :\Iother Superior's second daughter, a 
 lovely girl in her fourteenth year. In her last mo- 
 ments she cried to her confessor, "Father, is there any 
 harm to hope that I shall go to heaven as soon as I 
 am dead ?" He replied, not if that hope was grounded 
 on her own merits. " What merits," she cried, " can 
 such a child as I have?" So little comfort can the 
 contemplation of our own good works afford in the 
 dying hour I Again she exclaimed, " I hope that my 
 sufferings will be accepted as my penance without go- 
 ing to Purgatory. Oh! hoio I icould like to go to 
 heaven. /" 
 
208 MISS bunkley'.s book. 
 
 In 1816 two more of the sisters died; one, only 
 twenty-one years of age, brought np in luxury in the 
 West Indies, and w^hose delicate hands often "bled from 
 exposure during the winter in performing the work al- 
 lotted to her. The following year witnessed the death 
 of four more of the sisters, and the next year three 
 more. How the austerities which hastened the deaths 
 of so many young persons affected the health of the 
 Mother Superior herself, may be inferred from the fol- 
 lowing confession, in a letter of hers to the Eev. M. 
 Brute: " Eules, prudence, subjection, opinions, etc., 
 are dreadful walls to a burning soul wild as mine. 
 For me, I am like a fiery horse I had when a girl, 
 whom they tried to break by making him drag a heavy 
 cart ; and the poor beast was so humbled that he could 
 never more be inspired by whips or caresses, and 
 w^asted to a skeleton till he died ! " Mrs. Seton's death 
 occurred in 1820. 
 
THE FEAST OF CORPUS CHRISTI. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XLL 
 
 THE FEAST OF CORPUS CHRISTI. 
 
 Before reaching the closing circumstances of my 
 stay at St. Joseph's, I may pause to describe the cere- 
 monies performed at that institution in commemora- 
 tion of a festival of peculiar solemnity which was cel- 
 ebrated during my residence there. It was the day 
 of Corpus Christi, or the Feast of the Blessed Sacra- 
 ment, termed, according to the tenets of the Boman 
 Catholic Church, the Body of Christ. 
 
 On the morning of that day the sisterhood assem- 
 bled in the community-room and novitiate, and, at the 
 sound of the bell, formed themselves in the "rank," 
 and walked in procession to the chapel. Each sister 
 held in one hand her chaplet beads, and in the other a 
 candle taken from a box near the door as she went 
 out. During this space of time all were engaged in 
 saying, in a low tone, the "Ave Maria." 
 
 Arriving in the chapel, after the usual ceremony of 
 kissing the back of the seats before them, a chant was 
 commenced by the choir ; and the Superior, attended 
 by two other Lazarists, entered the sanctuary, clothed 
 in rich and costly vestments. The altar had been 
 splendidly decorated for the occasion, and the statue 
 of the Virgin wreathed with flowers. The Host was 
 
210 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 then for a moment elevated and exposed to view ; then 
 it was veiled from sight with a covering, on which was 
 inscribed, in Latin, "Behold the Lamb of God." 
 
 After the saying of a few prayers, one of the priests 
 took the sacrament and advanced to the railing which 
 separates the sanctuary from the chapel. There he 
 was joined by the others in attendance. Several al- 
 tar-boys raised above the heads of the priests a mag- 
 nificent canopy. The choir again commenced a sol- 
 emn chant. The sacristan then advanced from the 
 sacristy, and lighted the candle held by- that one of 
 the sisters who sat at the end of the nearest bench. 
 The next sister then lighted her candle by means of 
 her neighbor's, and so on, until the whole number had 
 done likewise, and all the candles were lighted in the 
 hands of the kneeling sisters. 
 
 This completed, the priests, carrying the Host, with 
 the canopy elevated above them, marched slowly down 
 the aisle, while every head was bowed in silent adora- 
 tion. When they had reached the door, a rap was 
 given by the Mother Superior, upon which the whole 
 assemblage, after kissing the seats as usual, rose and 
 walked in procession, each sister with her lighted can- 
 dle, the choir accompanying them and chanting, in 
 which the priests joined. 
 
 The procession crossed the Superior's garden and 
 the adjacent grounds to a small and beautiful chapel,* 
 which the priests entered, placing the sacrament upon 
 the altar while the " Benediction" was sung. During 
 
 * This is a small chapel in the boarders' play-grounds, called the 
 Chapel of Sister Bernardine, it being built by her when she was di- 
 rectress in the academy by donations obtained from the scholars. 
 
THE FEAST OF COEPUS CHRISTI. 211 
 
 this period the sisters knelt upon the ground, kissing 
 the earth as they knelt and before they rose. The 
 sacrament was then taken from this chapel, and the 
 procession moved on to that of St. Joseph, which is 
 situated in another part of the grounds, called " The 
 Sisters' Garden," or the community-ground. " Bene- 
 diction" was sung here also, and the same form was 
 observed as before, both in and out of the chapel. 
 Then the sacrament was carried through the commu- 
 nity-room and the novitiate, a path being formed in 
 one of the rooms, bordered with rose-leaves and ever- 
 greens, through which the procession walked. 
 
 ilfter crossing the corridor and entering the chapel 
 of the institution, the ceremonies were there ended 
 v/ith a benediction. The lights were extinguished, 
 and, after the usual form of kissing the seats in front 
 of each, and repeating a few prayers, the community 
 once more arranged themselves in the rank and pro- 
 ceeded to their respective rooms. 
 
 The boarders of the institution followed in the rear 
 of the procession of sisters throughout the whole of 
 these imposing ceremonies. 
 
212 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 A SECOND LETTEE FROM HOME. 
 
 A SECOND letter was at lengtli received at the insti- 
 tution on the — th of September, 1854, from my rela- 
 tives, and upon its receipt I was ordered to appear be- 
 fore the mistress of novices. Kneeling at her feet, I 
 listened to the letter as she read it aloud. It was 
 from my sister. She stated that she would come for 
 me in a few days, and that I must return home with 
 her. 
 
 This information excited greatly the displeasure of 
 the mistress of novices. Having finished its perusal, 
 she seized me with a tight grasp by the arm, saying, 
 "Do you think you will ever return home?" I an- 
 swered that I did not know, and began to tremble vi- 
 olently, as well with agitation as with dread, such is 
 the awe that an official inspires at the institution. 
 This enraged her. She struck me upon the forehead, 
 and, roughly thrusting me from her, she ordered me 
 to go and kneel before the altar of St. Joseph at one 
 end of the room, and repeat some prayers as a penance. 
 
 I obeyed mechanically, but no prayer, no tears 
 came to relieve my feelings ; cold and almost stupe- 
 fied, I remained motionless as the statue before which 
 
A SECOND LETTER FROM HOME. 213 
 
 I was bent. An hour and more passed ere I was 
 roused from, my stupor ; but a stormy conflict was 
 raging w^ithin my breast. The agonizing conscious- 
 ness had a second time with terrible force come upon 
 me that I was eternally severed from all that made 
 life dear. 
 
 The bell rang for meditation in the chapel, and this 
 call I must obey. Had it been some other kind of 
 punishment that was allotted me, this would have 
 given variation to my employment, and relieved the 
 fatigue ; but the signal only called me to renew the 
 exhausting effort of maintaining for a long time the 
 same painful posture. I rose, took my place in the 
 rank, and repaired to the chapel, where another hour 
 was spent on my knees in prayer and meditation, as 
 far as bodily constraint and mental distress would per- 
 mit the exercise of thought. 
 
 A week elapsed, and on Sunday I asked permission 
 to reply to the letter received from my friends. As it 
 was a day usually appropriated in part to the writing 
 of letters — which, however, must be written after high 
 mass, and submitted to the inspection of the Mother 
 Superior, by whom they are forwarded at her pleasure 
 — I had some hope of obtaining my request. But per- 
 mission was denied me, with an assurance that it 
 would be but a loss of time, and useless for me to do 
 so. I was ordered to the refectory for the purpose of 
 cleaning knives and forks. I had been but a short 
 time engaged in this employment, when the "reli- 
 gieuse" who had charge of this department suddenly 
 rushed toward me, and seizing the knife I was clean- 
 ing, drew it through my hand, commencing an angry 
 
214 M18S bunkley's book. 
 
 rebuke for some pretended fault, and threatening to 
 report me. This unprovoked cruelty so startled me, 
 already enfeebled as I was by severe labor and pro- 
 tracted fatigue, that I fell in a spasm on the floor, 
 striking my head against a bench. A young novice, 
 who had seen me fall, dragged me into the passage, 
 supported my head, and sent another to report to an 
 officer my situation. Before the officer came I had re- 
 vived, and was proceeding down the corridor, aided 
 by two sisters, when I met her. She conveyed me to 
 the infirmary, asking me, at the same time, what was 
 the matter. Fearing to tell her, I remained silent ; 
 but as she insisted on an answer, I related to her the 
 occurrence. She made no reply, and did not seem to 
 entertain much sympathy for me. She left me on a 
 bed in the infirmary, but soon after returned, and made 
 me get up and go back to my work in the refectory. 
 
 I ought to say that a sister must obtain permission 
 to write on the Saturday preceding ; should she fail 
 to do this, it is not allowed her to ask the privilege. 
 But often, when this is done, the request is refused, 
 and the petitioner is told that it would be " a loss of 
 time." I have more than once received this answer. 
 All letters written by the sisters are given to the mis- 
 tress of novices for her perusal. Many of them never 
 reach their destination, being destroyed by her on the 
 spot. Others are sent to the Superior's room, but the 
 writers never know what becomes of them. I have 
 seen the mistress of novices engaged in reading and 
 tearing to pieces letters which have been sent to the 
 novitiate, but were never destined to reach those who 
 perhaps were anxiously awaiting their arrival at home. 
 
A SECOND LETTER FROM HOME. 215 
 
 Many a time have I seen sisters kneeling before the 
 mistress of novices, the tears streaming from their 
 eyes as they Hstened to letters read by her, but which 
 they were not permitted to hold in their own hands, 
 nor look at, to trace the beloved characters of a moth- 
 er's or a sister's writing. 
 
216 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIII. 
 
 MORTALITY AXD DEATH AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 
 
 It is on all hands acknowledged that the life of 
 monastic and conventual establishments is most un- 
 favorable to bodily health. Those even who are chief- 
 ly interested in upholding these institutions make no 
 attempt to conceal the fact. On the contrary, I have 
 shown, and of this farther evidence will be given here- 
 after, that from the very outset the system adopted at 
 St. Joseph's has been disastrous and fatal in the ex- 
 treme, so far as sickness, disease, and death are ev- 
 idences of its workings. In the second year after the 
 foundation of the society, which commenced with only 
 eighteen members, three of them died; in 1816, two 
 more ; the following year, four ; and the next, three. 
 I have already testified that, within the ten months of 
 my sojourn at St. Joseph's, no fewer than fourteen 
 deaths, to my personal knowledge, occurred. Nor does 
 the Mother Superior, in her remarkable letter written 
 after my escape, controvert this point ; she maintains 
 only that this excessive mortality is the result of the 
 pious and charitable exertions to which the sisters de- 
 vote themselves in attending hospitals and minister- 
 ing to the sick. I leave it for an impartial judgment 
 to decide whether it may not much more rationally be 
 
MORTALITY AND DEATH AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 217 
 
 ascribed to. the exhausting and depressing effects of 
 unremitted and laborious servile " duties" and devo- 
 tional exercises, the forms and attitudes of which re- 
 semble rather the varieties of torture than the emploj- 
 ments of Christian meditation and worship. I leave 
 it for a candid discrimination to say whether such be 
 not the inevitable result of protracted and reiterated 
 vigils, of exposure to a damp and chilly atmosphere, 
 of mental excitement fed by superstitious fears and ap- 
 prehensions, of unnatural severment from all the at- 
 tachments of life, and seclusion under perpetual re- 
 straints. 
 
 I myself, while a member of the community, was 
 often sick, worn down and utterly prostrated by the 
 services daily and uninterruptedly required of me. 
 Even while engaged in performing the duties, compar- 
 atively lighter, which were enjoined upon me as a 
 teacher in the academy, it would frequently happen 
 that the lassitude of body and mind became almost 
 insupportable. In addition to instructing a class of 
 pupils in the French language, and teaching others in 
 music, I was required to perform a similar task for 
 such of the novices as evinced any talent for vocal or 
 instrumental music, in order that the vacancies occur- 
 ring from time to time in the choir might be appropri- 
 ately supplied. I have often sat for hours, without a 
 moment's intermission or rest, at the piano, and after 
 that have been occupied at work in the refectoiy or 
 other departments. 
 
 If illness and a shattered constitution — the ordinary 
 and necessary results of such a system* — had been 
 
 * The Rev. M. Hobart Seymour, a distinguished clergyman of the 
 
 K 
 
218 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tlie only suiFering brought upon me hy the endurance 
 of these inflictions, I might still be an inmate of St. 
 Joseph's — an unwilling inmate, doubtless, since I had 
 become thoroughly convinced of my own mistake in 
 entering that institution. But this alone would not 
 have proved sufficient to impel me to the desperate 
 venture of an attempt to escape from its walls. I call 
 it a desperate venture, because the failure to accomplish 
 my object would have been attended with the most 
 bitter consequences. But other apprehensions were 
 combined with those of bodily suffering to impel me 
 in this effort to flee from a place the atmosphere of 
 which was dangerous and contaminating. 
 
 I entered the institution of St. Joseph's under the 
 complacent impression and belief tliat among the " Sis- 
 English Church, stated in a lecture some time since, that a gentle- 
 man, high in official position at Rome, who had been a visitor with the 
 Cardinal Vicar in the various nunneries of that city, gave him the fol- 
 lowing facts from his own positive knowledge. He remarked that, 
 " entering these nunneries at the early age of sixteen or eighteen, for 
 a few years the nuns seemed sufficiently happy ; but that afterward, 
 having discovered the extent of the step they had taken, some of them 
 pined, and drooped, and withered, and died ; while others, struggling 
 against it for a time, in the end gave way to despair, and died of mad- 
 ness. He stated that, of his own experience, the majority of these 
 young nuns died deranged before twenty-five years of age !" — 
 Lecture at Bath, England, June 7th, 1852. 
 
 In the concluding portion of this volume we shall have occasion to 
 give the statement of an unimpeachable witness, the excellent Dr. De 
 Sanctis, now a minister of the Waldensian Church in Piedmont, but for- 
 merly a Roman Catholic priest of distinction, curate of the Magdalene 
 at Rome, and confessor at a number of convents in that city. In a 
 communication made expressly for the present work, he gives it as the 
 result of personal observation, that " a very large proportion of the nuns 
 die in their youth ; and a great part of the rest drag a miserable exist- 
 ence in continual disease and suffering." 
 
MORTALITT AND DEATH AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 219 
 
 ters of Charity" I should iind an entire devotedness, 
 a pure and unselfish dedication to the service of the 
 Almighty. I had heard and read so much of their pi- 
 ous lives, their earnest efforts to comfort the afflicted, 
 relieve the sick, and console the dying, that I enter- 
 tained the most exalted ideas of their Christian perfec- 
 tion. During the short time of my visit as a visitor, 
 my limited observation, together with the assurances 
 of the Superior, confirmed these favorable sentiments, 
 and I became a member of the community, prepared, 
 under circumstances the most propitious, to look upon 
 every thing with an admiring eye. Gradually this il- 
 lusion was dissipated. The rose tint gave place to 
 the sombre hue of the reality ; my golden anticipa- 
 tions one by one were falsified ; and the ardent enthu- 
 siasm with which I entered, from fever heat cooled 
 down to zero. 
 
 I had no doubt that the great number of individu- 
 als in the sisterhood were perfectly sincere and con- 
 scientious in the practice of their devotions and the 
 discharge of their duties. But among these, so much 
 superstition, weakness, and folly prevailed as to ex- 
 cite contempt, or at least pity. The idolatrous wor- 
 ship of the Virgin Mary was carried to such a pitch 
 as could not fail to shock a mind that retained any 
 vestige of scriptural belief and conviction.* The re- 
 
 * The impulse that has been given of late years by the Romish 
 priesthood to what they call "the devotion to Mary," aas carried that 
 worship to an excess and exaggeration almost inconceivable. Con- 
 nected with this increase of a blasphemous homage is an endeavor to 
 represent the Virgin Mary as, in a peculiar sense, the Deity of xcom- 
 en, and, of course, especially of nuns. Thus the famous M. de Ge- 
 noude, one of the most eminent ecclesiastics of the Romish Church in 
 
220 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 spect paid to pictures and images, tliougli designed, ac- 
 cording to the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Chm-ch, 
 
 France, has expressed this tendency in these remarkable words : 
 '' Mary was the repairer of Eve's offense, even as our Lord was the 
 repairer of the offense of Adam /" (" Marie fut la reparatrice de la faute 
 d'Eve, comme Notre-Seigneur fut Ic reparateur de la faute d'Adam." — 
 — Tableau historique du premier siccle de VEglise.) Another writer, 
 M. Oswald, professor of theology in the Roman Catholic vSeminary of 
 Paderborn, in Germany, makes the following more full statement of 
 the same idea : " Mary was not a human creature like ourselves ; she 
 was The Woman, as Christ was The Man. The work of redemption 
 revolves upon two names — Jesus Christ, the God-Man, and Mary, the 
 Viro-in-Mother of God. For this reason we are disposed to erect by the 
 side of Christology a Manalogy, of lohich this should be the creed : I be- 
 lieve in Mary, born without sin, and exempt from faults throughout her 
 entire Ufe ; the Virgin-Mother of the Lord by the grace of God, and at 
 the same time by her own free consent ; co-operating, although in 
 dependence upon her divine Son, in the act of redemption ; perform- 
 ing therein a part without which the work of Jesus Christ would not 
 be complete ; the dispenser, in the Church, of certain graces which, 
 though ultimately owing to the merits of Jesus Christ, are found nev- 
 ertheless in a certain causal dependence upon her active participation 
 in the redemption of man. She occupies this place in the quality of 
 spiritual mother of the human kind, and as special representative of her 
 sex in the xcork of reparation ^ — {Marialogic dogmatique, 1850, p. 1, 2.) 
 But there is a deeper abyss of absurdity and blasphemy to which 
 these worshipers of the Virgin Mary descend. " We assert," says M. 
 Oswald, " that Mary is co-present in the Eucharist ; this is an inevita- 
 ble consequence of our Marianic theory, and we do not shrink from 
 any of its consequences. If iMary, as Mother of God, took a real part 
 in our redemption, this part, in order that it might not be lost, must 
 have been bequeathed to the Church by its Founder, and must be trans- 
 mitted in the Eucharist. It is needless to add, that, in accordance with 
 the eucharistic doctrine of the Church, this presence of Mary in the Eu- 
 charist is veritable and real, not simply ideal or figurative. Women re- 
 ceive more in the Eucharist than do men. They receive, in addition to 
 the grace of Jesus Christ, which is common to all, a supplement of 3Ia- 
 rianic grace /" — {Marialogie, etc., p. 176, foil.) 
 
 As a single specimen of the nature of the supplications addressed to 
 the Virgin Mary wliich are piit in the mouths of the multitudes under 
 
MOKTALITr AND DEATH AT ST. JOSEPH'S. 221 
 
 to serve for the simple direction of the mind to a devout 
 contemplation of their subjects, is here practiced in a 
 manner that savors of the grossest idolatry. To give 
 a soHtary instance : I have spoken of the statue of St. 
 Vincent, the founder of the order, which stands in the 
 Superior's garden, where sometimes we were permit- 
 ted to work. This iigure is held in special estimation. 
 No one passed it without a lowly obeisance, and I have 
 often heard it addressed as a living being. Many of 
 the sisters would approach it timidly, with hands 
 clasped in the attitude of prayer, and, after a profound 
 salutation, exclaim, in beseeching tones, '^ Pray for 
 me, father r 
 
 The old or "professed sisters," whose physical con- 
 stitution has enabled them to pass through the ordeal 
 of years, are treated with much more leniency, and 
 lead an easier life than the novices. Many of those 
 who are rather advanced in age occupy their OAvn 
 rooms, where they are served by the younger sisters, 
 and are not compelled strictly to attend to all the serv- 
 ices. In the community -room they sometimes have 
 "parties," with music and refreshments, to which the 
 priests are invited.* On such occasions, some of the 
 younger sisters are admitted, or allowed a share in the 
 
 the spiritual care of the Romish priests, we give the following extract 
 of a prayer which is in use at Rome, and is accompanied by the prom- 
 ise of " an indulgence of one hundred years, granted by the supreme 
 pontiffs Gregory XV. and Clement XII." It begins thus : " O purest 
 and most immaculate ever- Virgin Mary ! Daughter of the Everlasting 
 Father, Mother of the Everlasting Son, Spouse of the Holy Ghost! 
 August and living Temple of the Most Holy Trinity ! Jewel of purity, 
 spotless mirror," etc., etc. 
 
 * At Rome they act comedies and tragedies in the convents. Seo 
 De Sanctis' letter appended to this work. 
 
222 iii;<^ blMvley's book. 
 
 delicacies provided, altliougli, for the most part, it is 
 their duty to prepare them. Of occurrences in the 
 community-room I can, however, give no minute par- 
 ticukrs from personal observation, as the "seminary 
 sisters" arc not allowed to enter that apartment imless 
 summoned to the presence of the Superior, or sent 
 thither with a message ; but enough is known outside 
 to excite sorrow and disgust. 
 
NO BIBLE. 223 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIV. 
 
 NO BIBLE. 
 
 It is well known to every one at all conversant with 
 ecclesiastical history that the perusal of the Scriptures 
 by the laity has at all times been discouraged, and on 
 repeated occasions forbidden by the Eoman Catholic 
 hierarchy.* When charged with this criminal with- 
 
 * This fact, plain and obvious as it is to the reader of history, tells 
 with such power upon the unscriptural character of the Romish sys- 
 tem, that the priests can only meet it with an audacious denial. In 
 this country, especially, they do not hesitate to say that the Church 
 of Rome gives full liberty to read the Bible and encourages its use, for- 
 bidding only the perusal of a Protestant translation. The means of 
 answering so barefaced a falsehood are not always at hand in a pop- 
 ular discussion, and thus they often succeed in producing the desired 
 impression upon the minds of the uninformed. We shall give here in 
 brief a few statements illustrative of the treatment that the Bible has 
 received at the hands of the supreme pontiffs of that Church, to say 
 nothing of the Bible-burnings and confiscations that occur so frequent- 
 ly in our own day in Roman Catholic countries, where no attempt is 
 made to conceal the enmity of Romanism for the word of God. 
 
 The Council of Trent — to go no farther back — declared its anathema 
 against any one who should read the Bible without a license from his 
 bishop or inquisitor, that license to be founded on a certificate from 
 his confessor that he is in no danger of receiving injury from so doing. 
 
 Pope Pius VII., in 1816, denounces in a special bull the Bible Soci- 
 ety, and expresses himself " shocked" by the circulation of the Scrip- 
 tures, which he characterizes as a "most crafty device, by which the 
 very foundations of religion are undermined;" a "pestilence," which 
 
224 MISS BUNK ley's book. 
 
 holding of God's word from men, it is sometimes al- 
 leged, by way of excuse, tliat in former times the igno- 
 rance of the people was an obstacle to the right under- 
 standing of the precepts and doctrines of the Bible, and 
 also that the scarcity and high price of copies of the 
 Scriptures prevented their circulation. This apology 
 may be readily admitted with reference to that period 
 of which the assertion is true ; but it should be ob- 
 served that even in the present enlightened age, no en- 
 couragement is held out in countries where Romanism 
 predominates for the examination of that holy book, 
 
 it behooves him " to remedy and aboHsh ;" " a defilement of the faith, 
 eminently dangerous to souls." He congratulates the primate to 
 whom his letter is addressed on the zeal he had shown " to detect and 
 overthrow the impious machinations of these innovators ;" and repre- 
 sents it as an episcopal duty to expose "the wickedness of their nefa- 
 rious scheme," and openly to publish that " the Bible printed by here- 
 tics is to be numbered among other prohibited books, conformably to 
 the rules of the Index ; for it is evident from experience that the Holy 
 Scriptures, wheyi circulated in the vulgar tongue, have, through the te- 
 merity of men, produced more harm than benefit.'''' 
 
 The same pope issued in 1819 a bull on the subject of the circula- 
 tion of the Scriptures in the Irish schools. He speaks of this as a 
 *' sowing of tares," and that the children are thereby infected with the 
 '■^ fatal poison of depraved doctrines ;" and exhorts the Irish bishops to 
 endeavor to prevent the wheat from being " choked by the tares." 
 
 In 1824, Pope Leo XH. published an encyclical letter, in which he 
 adverts to a certain society, vulgarly called the Bible Society, as spread- 
 ing itself throughout the whole world, and goes on to term, the Protest- 
 ant Bible the " Gospel of the Devil." 
 
 The late Pope Gregory XVI., in his encyclical letter, after referring 
 to the decree of the Council of Trent already mentioned, ratifies that 
 and all similar enactments of the Church in these terms : " Moreover, 
 we confirm and renew the decrees recited above, delivered in former 
 times by apostolic authority, against the publication, distribution, read- 
 ing, and possessing of books of the Holy Scriptures translated into the 
 vulgar tongue.^'' 
 
NO BIBLE. 225 
 
 nor is even the erroneous translation of it wliicli lias 
 been sanctioned by the authorities of tlie Church of 
 Rome freely circulated for popular perusal. But in 
 the United States no such predominancy enables the 
 priesthood to expel the Scriptures from publicity, and 
 here, accordingly, the charge is indignantly denied, and 
 the assertion is exultingly made that the Bible is kept 
 at all the Catholic book-stores, and all Catholics are at 
 liberty to purchase and read it. Without entering 
 upon a discussion of this statement, I will only appeal 
 to Catholics themselves to answer truly whether their 
 priests or confessors are in the habit of recommending 
 the habitual study of the Scriptures to them individu- 
 ally. The fact that no such reference or direction is 
 habitually made by the priesthood to the oracles of 
 God sufficiently proves their indifference, if not their 
 hostility to it. 
 
 During the whole period of my connection with the 
 Church of Bome, no such instruction or counsel was 
 given me by my spiritual director ; and while a resi- 
 dent at St. Joseph's I never saio a Bihle^ and I had 
 frequent access to the library. ]\Iy own testimony 
 would certainly go to confirm the general statement, 
 the correctness of which is corroborated by the entire 
 policy of Bomanism, to subject the people to the con- 
 trol of the clergy. Apprehensive lest the frequent and 
 unrestrained study of the sacred Scriptures would 
 prove a serious antagonism to their efforts for enslav- 
 ing the mind, the priests carefully abstain from en- 
 couraging their dissemination wherever they do not 
 dare to oppose it openly. Another consideration 
 doubtless acts upon them. Some of the peculiar dog- 
 K2 
 
226 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 mas of Homanism, such as that of Purgatory and that 
 respecting indulgences, are effectual means of augment- 
 ing the revenues of the Church ; and these subjects 
 of belief are so flimsily supported even by their own 
 interpretation of Scripture, that they would be reject- 
 ed if examined by every intelligent student of the holy 
 volume. 
 
 The books permitted and recommended for reading 
 at St. Joseph's are the "Lives of the Saints," extracts 
 from the " Roman Martyrology" and the " Confer- 
 ences." These last are a compilation of rules and 
 regulations to be observed by the Order of Sisters 
 of Charity, as prepared by their founder, St. Vincent. 
 They contain much matter not suitable for edification, 
 nor calculated to promote purity of thought. 
 
A DKEAM OF FEEEDOM. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XLY, 
 
 A DREAM OF FEEEDOM. 
 
 In a former part of this narrative I have made al- 
 lusion to the careful prevention of confidential inter- 
 course between members of the community. The reg- 
 ulations enjoining silence, except at a certain hour, are 
 strictly enforced ; and even at that period conversation 
 is allowed only on permitted subjects and in the pres- 
 ence of superiors. For two sisters to engage in pri- 
 vate interchange of thought "would be an offense which, 
 if known, w^ould unavoidably be visited with severe 
 punishment. The want of some sympathizing friend 
 to whom I might unburden my feelings and suffer- 
 ings, or to whom, in turn, I might afford consola- 
 tion and support, was bitterly felt. Outward signs of 
 the mental conflict must imperatively be suppressed. 
 When almost overwhelmed with sensations of utter 
 desolation, I was forced to veil, by a powerful effort, 
 my wretchedness. The death-like pallor of the coun- 
 tenance, and often the traces of tears that could not be 
 restrained, would perhaps betray the agony of soul. 
 But I must be calm and collected in manner, and 
 breathe no syllable that might express my misery. 
 Every native impulse of the heart, every prompting 
 of affection, every thought of sympathy and kindness, 
 
228 
 
 must be subdued and silenced : such, it is thought, 
 is the duty of all who would render themselves worthy 
 to wear the "holy habit." 
 
 Often have I gazed from my window upon the pic- 
 turesque grounds that environed my prison. How 
 green and beautiful the trees, their slender branches 
 bending in the vesper breeze ! The rose of lovely tint, 
 and the many flowers embosomed in the long waving 
 grass — I could not enjoy their sweetness ; not even 
 was it lawful for me to inhale at will their delicious 
 perfume, wafted by the breeze that fanned my cheek, 
 once glowing with health and animation, but now 
 marked with the traces of suffering and sorrow. 
 
 Ever and anon my listless gaze would wander over 
 the distant landscape. Before me were the mountains, 
 in all their majestic beauty, the western sun, as it 
 set, pouring a -flood of golden light upon the dense foli- 
 age that covered their summits ; and then, as a caged 
 bird dashing against the bars of its prison-house with 
 strong desire to gain its native wild-wood, even so did 
 I yearn to escape from the walls that surrounded me, 
 to roam free and unfettered over those mountain sides, 
 reveling in those sunbeams, or quietly resting in the 
 shade of those towering trees. But I must banish 
 these thoughts — repel the wish to gaze upon and enjoy 
 the beauties of nature. What have I to do with 
 earth ? What to me is that world which I have re- 
 nounced forever ? For me the interest of natural life 
 is irrevocably closed, and now, by devoting my exist- 
 ence to the service of God in the holy seclusion of the 
 cloister, I shall purchase heaven ! By a life of pover- 
 ty, suffering, prayer, and penance, win the smile of 
 
A DREAM OF FREEDOM. 229 
 
 tlie holy Virgin and lier divine Son ! Yes, I will wel- 
 come those pains and miseries to save my soul, though 
 they destroy my body. But can not heaven be gain- 
 ed without such a sacrifice ? The way is dark and 
 difficult. What now is left me? a lonely heart, a 
 weary life, a disappointed hope. O God ! teach my 
 spirit to be resigned to Thy most holy will. 
 
 Scenes of other days now pass in rapid review he- 
 fore me. Alas ! that memory should add its pangs, 
 recalling years that have forever fled, hours that I 
 would fain forget, moments of thrilling rapture, from 
 whose fond contemplation my vows debar me now. 
 
 Scenes of more recent date, with all their blighting 
 woe, come to agonize my heart, yet bleeding with for- 
 mer reflections : a mother's loss, never to be made 
 up, never to be alleviated by the consolations of pa- 
 ternal and sisterly affection ; expostulations and gen- 
 tle warnings disregarded, under the infatuation of a 
 deceived and misguided zeal. Well is it now that 
 little time is allowed for such remembrances. Let me 
 return to the care and weariness of my bondage, and 
 forget the past. 
 
230 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 CHAPTER XLYL 
 
 MY ESCAPE. 
 
 Conscious that I was a guarded prisoner at St. Jo- 
 seph's, I now determined, in secresy if possible, to es- 
 cape. But could I hope to leave the institution un- 
 discovered during the day ? It was impossible, since 
 no one is suffered even to enter or leave a room with- 
 out express command or obtained permission, and spies 
 are known to be placed in all parts of the building, 
 though individually recognizable as such by none but 
 the Superior. 
 
 Considerable time had elapsed since the forming of 
 this resolution without the offering of any special fa- 
 cility to realize the scheme. Finally, I determined to 
 delay no longer, but make an attempt at once. At 
 first I was at a loss what course to decide upon when 
 once I should be outside the walls of the institution. 
 The town of Emmettsburg was but a quarter of a mile 
 distant, and I could easily reach it ; but I knew that 
 a large proportion of the inhabitants were Catholics, 
 and that I should run the risk of being discovered and 
 sent back to the community. The " house" of the 
 Lazarists was also located there, between which and 
 St. Joseph's there was constant communication, and 
 the probability of an encounter on the road with some 
 
'MY ESCAPE. 231 
 
 member of tlie order occurred to my mind. In view 
 of these considerations, I decided that it would be more 
 prudent to proceed to Frederick City. I resolved, ac- 
 cordingly, to seek egress from the building about two 
 liours after midnight, in order that I might catch the 
 stage from Emmettsburg to that place, which passed 
 at about four o'clock in the morning. This resolution 
 was taken on the evening preceding my departure, 
 while sitting at the window of my cell for a few min- 
 utes before the ringing (5f the bell for evening prayers. 
 I had been detained from supper until late, in conse- 
 quence of having been appointed to take charge of the 
 music-rooms (a duty ordinarily discharged by a vowed 
 sister) while the sisterhood were at their meal, and 
 when I arrived at the refectory nearly every one had 
 left. I took advantage of the opportunity and secured 
 a knife, which I concealed about my person, with the 
 full determination to use it, if my strength should per- 
 mit, in self-defense, should I be stopped or overtaken 
 on the road ; for I was now desperate, and the bare 
 idea of failure filled me with terror. 
 
 While seated at the window revolving my plan, as 
 my head rested against the casement, and the chill 
 night air blew in upon me (though for this I cared not, 
 being familiar with suffering and exposure to cold), I 
 was startled from my meditations by the deep tolling 
 of the convent bell calling to prayers. Hastily com- 
 posing my features, and effacing the traces of tears 
 from my countenance, I rose to obey its summons for 
 the last time, as I fondly hoped. While crossing the 
 corridor on my way to the novitiate, I was accosted 
 by an old sister, who delivered to me an order with 
 
232 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 which she had been intnisted, requiring that I should 
 sweep out all the music-rooms at an early hour in the 
 morning. I showed her my hand, which I carried in 
 a sling, the thumb having been opened to the bone 
 but a few days before to cure a whitlow, and told her 
 that I should hardly be able to perform the duty. 
 Saying that the order was imperative, she left me, and 
 I proceeded to the chapel, not, it may be presumed, 
 with any purpose of sweeping out the music-rooms 
 the next morning ; instead of which, I hoped to be 
 breathing the fresh air of heaven, and exulting in the 
 sense of freedom and dehverance from the horrors of a 
 "living death." 
 
 ■ About an hour passed by after the conclusion of the 
 evening devotions, and all the sisters had retired to 
 their cells. Suffering exceedingly from thirst, I re- 
 solved, though it was contrary to the rules for a nov- 
 ice to drink after the ringing of the silence-bell, to pro- 
 cure a draught of water, and at the same time to see 
 whether the key of a door leading from a passage 
 across the porch to the infirmary was in the lock. I 
 accomplished my purpose without discovery, but the 
 key had been removed. Keturning to my cell, I lay 
 down on my bed to obtain some rest before the ap- 
 pointed hour ; but I was too anxious to sleep, and 
 trembled and shivered upon my couch until the cry of 
 the watchman, who has charge of the establishment at 
 night, announced that it was two o'clock. A few min- 
 utes after I arose, put on my habit, placing the beads 
 in my pocket, lest they should rattle as I walked along, 
 and then waited for the watchman's cry of "three 
 o'clock." Upon hearing that signal I left my cell, do- 
 
MY ESCArE. 
 
 233 
 
 ino- so for the first time witliout making my bed, and 
 groped my way through the darkness down the stairs 
 and along the cloisters, all the while attentively hsten- 
 ing to detect any noise. All was silent save the shght 
 sound of my footsteps on the paved floor. Descend- 
 ing a narrow flight of stairs, I proceeded along a dark 
 passage, at the extremity of which there were other 
 steps leading to the chapel. I preferred to attempt 
 my escape in this part of the huilding for the reason 
 that there was no inclosure immediately outside of it. 
 Having gained the chapel door, I was forced to pause 
 and rest for a few moments to gain composure ; for I 
 was trembling violently, and almost suffocated by the 
 impetuous and convulsive throbbings of my heart. 
 There was no time to be lost, however ; so, taking cour- 
 age, I ran across the chapel, and, guided by a faint 
 gleam of moonlight through the crevices, climbed up to 
 a window, opened it, and leaped to the pavement be- 
 low. I looked around and listened, but no living ob- 
 ject was visible, and no sound broke the stillness. 
 The watchman at the building had gone in, but there 
 was another stationed at the gate, whose vigilance I 
 would have to elude. I could not stop, however, to 
 reflect, but fled rapidly down the avenue. When about 
 halfway, I heard a slight noise, and approaching near- 
 er, perceived, to my dismay, that the watchman had 
 raised the window of his room, and was leaning from 
 it, as though suspicious of something wrong. My 
 heart sank within me, and for a moment I was literal- 
 ly paralyzed with fear. But I soon succeeded in con- 
 cealing myself behind a tree, and remained there for 
 some time, anxiously awaiting the Avithdrawal of the 
 
234 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 watchman from his post of observation. There was 
 another mode of egress from the grounds, by a path 
 through the grave-yard, where from my station I could 
 see the v»'hite crosses gleaming in the. moonlight. But 
 this would take me in a direction opposite to that which 
 I intended to follow ; and fearing lest I might become 
 confused and lose my way, I resolved to wait where I 
 was. 
 
 Another grievous disappointment was in store for 
 me. While at my hiding-place, the stage for Freder- 
 ick City, in which I had trusted to obtain a seat, pass- 
 ed by, and with it aU my sanguine anticipations van- 
 ished, and for an instant despair took possession of my 
 faculties. I became partly reassured, however, when 
 I joyfully observed that the watchman, as if satisfied 
 by the passing of the stage, had closed the window 
 and retired. I quickly passed through the gate into 
 the road, feeling that my object was at least half ac- 
 complished, the chief obstacle being already sur- 
 mounted. 
 
 I had walked but a short distance in the direction 
 taken by the stage when, approaching a bridge which 
 I was obliged to cross, I saw in the shadow the figure 
 of a man. At this sight my courage again faltered, 
 for I felt assured that, should he prove a Catholic, and 
 suspect from my garb wlio I was, he would attempt to 
 carry me back by force ; but drawing my shawl closely 
 around me, to conceal as much as possible my "habit," 
 I pulled my dark bonnet fartlier over my face, and 
 grasping the knife as firmly as my wounded hand 
 would /allow, I walked boldly past without being ac- 
 costed. About a mile and a half farther on, hearing 
 
MY ESCAPE. 235 
 
 the voices of ci party of men who were coming toward 
 me, I entered a gate that opened on the road, and 
 knelt behind the inclosure till they had gone by. I 
 was on the point of again proceeding upon my w\ay, 
 after waiting some minutes to make sure that the road 
 was clear, when sounds of fighting and cries of " mur- 
 der" from a house near by caused me to shrink back 
 in alarm to my hiding-place. There I remained until 
 I heard the Angelus ring at St. Joseph's. I knew 
 then that it was six o'clock ; and conscious that I had 
 no time to lose, I re-entered the road and prosecuted 
 my journey with as much speed as my tired limbs 
 could effect. 
 
 I had walked a considerable distance, and began to 
 experience great fatigue, when, seeing a woman near 
 a house on the road-side, I ventured to address her, 
 asking " how far it was to Frederick City." " Twen- 
 ty-two miles," w^as her answer. I inquired if I could 
 obtain a conveyance thither. Without deigning a re- 
 ply to my question, she asked me where I came from, 
 and on my telUng her "from Emmettsburg," advised 
 me in a peremptory tone to " go back, and start from 
 there." Then turning to a young man who came out 
 of the house, she whispered to him for a few moments, 
 when he immediately started in the direction of the 
 institution. 
 
 Convinced from her conduct that the w^oman was 
 a Catholic, and entertained some suspicion of my being 
 a fugitive from the sisterhood ; confident, too, that she 
 had dispatched the young man to give information 
 concerning me, I turned away, and continued my jour- 
 ney. But I was now afraid to proceed on the main 
 
236 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 road, lest I should be overtaken, ^nd more afraid to 
 leave it, lest I should lose my way. After crossing a 
 creek — Owning's Creek I think it is called — I arrived 
 about nine o'clock at a small village, which a sign-post 
 informed me was Creagerstown. I had walked a dis- 
 tance of ten miles. On inquiring for the principal 
 house of entertainment in the place, I was directed to 
 Stevens's Hotel, the proprietor of which, at that time, 
 with a noble kindness and generous hospitality that 
 acted like a soothing balm upon my wounded spirit, 
 and for which I shall ever be grateful, accorded me the 
 shelter of his house, and assured me of the protection 
 of his arm until the arrival of my father, to whom I in- 
 stantly wrote, informing him of the circumstances of 
 my escape. 
 
 None but those . who have felt, after some over- 
 whelming sorrow that threatened to obscure every fu- 
 ture prospect, the first cheering rays of hope breaking 
 through the clouds — none but those who, deprived of 
 all sympathy and protection, exposed to evil designs 
 and unscrupulous schemes against their peace and pu- 
 rity, without a glimpse of succor and deliverance, have 
 suddenly been rescued from their perilous condition 
 and restored to safety, can adequately appreciate the 
 exultant joy and happiness that thrilled every nerve 
 of my system when convinced that I had gained shel- 
 ter and defense among those whose hearts beat in sym- 
 pathy with my afflictions and my fears. To many 
 noble-hearted citizens of Creagerstown will memory 
 often recur with gratitude for their exertions in behalf 
 of a friendless, and, to them, unknown girl. 
 
 As I afterward learned, and at the time conjectured. 
 
MY ESCAPE. 237 
 
 the young man sent off by the woman whom I ad- 
 dressed on the road did go to St. Joseph's with the 
 information, but, owing to my disguise, he did not 
 know that I was a member of the community, and told 
 the Superior that a boarder had escaped. It was not 
 class-day, but the bell was rung, and the scholars were 
 assembled. None being missed, it was supposed that 
 the messenger had been mistaken. Thus the knowl- 
 edge of my absence was delayed for a time ; and to 
 this delay I am perhaps indebted for the fact that I 
 was not overtaken and forced back. 
 
 So soon, however, as my escape became known, per- 
 sons were sent in search of me in different du'cctions ; 
 and my place of refuge was discovered by the overseer 
 of the farm, who had gone to Frederick City, suspect- 
 ing that I had perhaps sought admission at the con- 
 vent there, which is a " visitation" convent, and does 
 not stand in very amicable relations with St. Joseph's ; 
 but, hearing no tidings of me there, he came to Crea- 
 gerstown. He requested an interview with me, and 
 stated that the Mother Superior was greatly disturbed 
 at the step I had taken, and promised that if I would 
 return quietly, and without causing an excitement, she 
 would send me home. He added that she was fear- 
 ful lest, if the circumstances should become known, 
 the institution would be injured. My answer to this 
 plausible message may readily be surmised. After 
 the departure of the overseer, the Superior, being in- 
 formed where I was, dispatched two "officers" of the 
 community to Creagerstown. On their arrival they 
 endeavored to force their way to my room, but I re- 
 fused to see them ; for the habit of obedience to their 
 
238 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 mandates had become so strong, that I actually dread- 
 ed the iiitluence of their presence, and trembled at the 
 thought of an interview with those of whom I had so 
 long stood in awe, and to whose wishes and commands 
 submission had become, as it were, a second nature. 
 The landlord of the hotel took part in my anxiety to 
 avoid this meeting. I was locked up in a room on 
 the second story of the house, the window-shutters of 
 which were closed and fastened during the whole time 
 of the "sisters' stay. I was in a state of the utmost 
 alarm lest they should reach me. I heard the alter- 
 cation going on below, and feared that, after all, I 
 should be delivered up. So much had my spirit be- 
 come subject to the control of these sister-officers of 
 St. Joseph's. But, being unable to obtain access to 
 me, they wrote notes, which were thrust under the door, 
 and a receipt, which I signed, for the articles of my 
 own property which had been brought me. I sent 
 them every thing about my person that they demand- 
 ed — my " capot," community-book or formulary, etc., 
 etc. I had not felt such alarm at any moment during 
 my escape as during the time that these sisters re- 
 mained in the house. 
 
AN INCIDENT AFTER ESCAPE. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 AN INCIDENT AFTER ESCAPE. 
 
 A SHORT time previous to my departure, one of the 
 boarders had left the academy. She had always ap- 
 peared much attached to me ; and when, on my way 
 home from Creagerstown with my father, we stopped 
 at a hotel in Frederick City, she immediately came 
 upon hearing of our arrival, and, rushing to my arms, 
 embraced me with a cry of delight, "Oh! sister, I am 
 so glad to see you away from that institution ! " She 
 did not leave me until we entered the cars for Balti- 
 more. Her congratulations were abundant, and she 
 repeatedly assured me, while we were together in Fred- 
 erick, that, had she known of my desire to escape, her 
 carriage would have been at my disposal. 
 
 After my return home I received a letter from this 
 young lady which I did not answer. Its tenor was 
 such as to satisfy me that already her mind had been 
 biased against me, so little dependence can be placed 
 upon the candid judgment of any one, even a postu- 
 lant ox boarder, who is under the influence of the Su- 
 perior of St. Joseph's. 
 
 It is worthy of notice, however accounted for, that 
 in every case of the flight of a young girl from the 
 walls of a Roman Catholic convent or community, 
 
240 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 wliicli she may have "been induced by pkiusihle but 
 deceitful representations to enter, she is at once re- 
 garded as an outcast and denounced as a disgrace to 
 religion by the whole papal society. On this subject 
 the remarks of a recent writer are so pertinent that I 
 can not express myself better than in his words: 
 "Her early associates will upbraid her, her own pa- 
 rents [if they be Koman Catholic] will cast her oiF, 
 and tlie papal community in which she lives will avoid 
 her as if infected w^ith leprosy. In papal countries 
 she will scarcely be able to get food to keep her from 
 starvation, if they do not rally around her and drive 
 her back to prison, and penance, and punishment. 
 
 "Why is this? Is it not very plain that the in- 
 structions of the priests to their people are of such a 
 kind that they train them to believe that if a nun es- 
 capes, no matter for what cause, she is disobedient to 
 the priest, and will certainly be damned ; and though 
 it may appear cruel to treat her so harshly, yet, in the 
 end, if they succeed in compelling her to go back to 
 the convent, the cruelty to the escaped nun will be 
 considered meritorious for their and her salvation ? 
 
 " To make ample provision for retaining them in 
 these prisons, the priests teach that there is no sin 
 which can be committed while in the convent that will 
 bear comparison with that of leaving off the convent 
 life and being married. Having gotten this idea in 
 the minds of their people of this dreadful sin of escap- 
 ing from the convent, the people never pretend to im- 
 agine for what cause or under what circumstances the 
 individual has escaped. 
 
 " Now I will admit that one half, two thirds — nay, 
 
AN INCIDENT AFTER ESCAPE. 241 
 
 that all the nuns enter willingly, but really ignorant 
 of what is before them. Tell me of what immorality 
 or crime they are guilty when, on finding the convent 
 to be not what they supposed and were taught that it 
 was, they desire to leave, and on finding themselves 
 imprisoned, venture on an escape ?"* 
 
 There can be little doubt that the consideration of 
 these consequences upon such a step frightens many 
 a novice, and many a professed " religieiise'^ too, from 
 the attempt to liberate herself from the durance in 
 which she is held and the evils to Avhich she is ex- 
 posed. Whenever the courage of a poor recluse is 
 summoned to so desperate an effort, the entire Catho- 
 lic community seem actuated by one mind and pur- 
 pose to denounce and persecute her. The case is pre- 
 judged before she can utter a syllable in her own de- 
 fense. The assertions of those from whose thraldom 
 she has escaped to those to whom she has fled, and 
 whose interest it must be to conceal and misconstrue, 
 are imphcitly and blindly believed, while no credit is 
 given to her own declarations. A malignant pleasure 
 seems to be found in holding her up as an object for 
 public scorn, in blasting the character and prospects 
 of an innocent girl, simply because, shuddering and re- 
 volting at the fate to which she was doomed, she could 
 not remain a willing or a passive victim. Nay, even 
 some Protestants— to their shame be it spoken— from 
 motives of personal regard, or from interested consid- 
 erations, do not hesitate to lend their free voices to this 
 combination of priests, superiors, and a bigoted laity, 
 
 * Priests' Prisons for Women, in Twelve Letters. By Andrew B. 
 Cross. Baltimore, 1854. 
 
 L 
 
242 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 in their unpardonable Avork of malice and iincharita- 
 bleness. 
 
 As a matter of course, I have not escaped such an 
 ordeal. As soon as my departure from St. Joseph's 
 became known, these efforts were commenced, and 
 they have been continued, in various forms, up to the 
 present time. Having in the preceding narrative told, 
 with all candor, the incidents and motives . of my en- 
 tering the institution, my experience while residing 
 there, and the reasons that compelled me to leave it 
 by stealth, I shall now have to narrate a series of in- 
 jurious and groundless attacks, brought upon me by 
 that step. 
 
PRIEST o'donnell. 243 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 PRIEST o'donnell. 
 
 The first onset was made by a meddlesome priest, 
 residing many hundred miles from the locality, who 
 could not resist the tempting opportunity afforded him 
 40 display his zeal in behalf of this cherished system 
 of the Eomish clergy. The following is a copy of his 
 published letter on the subject : 
 
 — " Portland, November 25th, 1854. 
 
 " Mr. Editor : 
 
 "Dear Sir, — My attention has been directed this 
 morning to an extract in your paper from a dispatch 
 from Baltimore. It is not my wish to censure you 
 for the paragraph. Probably you had the pleasure to 
 read it for the first time in this morning's edition. I 
 have no other expression for the writer than that of 
 sympathy ; for the man who knowingly circulates false 
 rumors to gratify the marvelous appetite is in much 
 need of public sympathy. Such rumors, however, are 
 easily removed in the locality where they originated, 
 but not so abroad. 
 
 " The statements are easily made and readily be- 
 lieved ; an impression is forthwith made in accordance 
 with the statement, most generally of prejudice and 
 hostility against the calumniated, and there is evident- 
 
244 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ly no manifest desire to suppress the falsehood and cir- 
 culate the truth. The paper which receives the credit 
 of announcing the singular accident, phenomenon, or 
 marvelous escape, sometimes retracts and makes the 
 amende honorable^ while other papers, equally respon- 
 sible to the public, ignore the refutation. I hope, 
 therefore, that my present intention shall not be mis- 
 construed or regarded in an unfriendly spirit, and that 
 the explanation, if satisfactory, will benefit the jour- 
 nals who hold guardianship over Catholics and their 
 doctrine. 
 
 "The statement of a young lady nun is radically 
 false. A knowledge of the rules which govern the 
 house of the Sisters of Charity enables me to make 
 this unqualified statement. 
 
 "The house of the Sisters of Charity is known as 
 St. Joseph's, near Emmcttsburg (not Emmettsbay). 
 There is generally a number of persons demanding ad- 
 mission. In order to secure a reception, they must 
 produce letters from responsible persons, vouching to 
 their good character, etc. They must bring sufficient 
 means to enable them to return home if the society 
 thinks them unfit, either in physical or mental qualifi- 
 cations, to discharge the hard, and, in many cases, re- 
 pulsive duties of the order. They spend the first two 
 years as postulants, take no vows, and are perfectly 
 free to leave the institution at any moment. There is 
 no necessity for scaling walls, crossing fields, and es- 
 caping during the stillness of the night. In a word, 
 any Catholic subject is perfectly free, as far as phys- 
 ical force is concerned, to follow the dictates of her 
 own will. 
 
PRIEST O'dONNELL. 240 
 
 "The case witli scliolars is quite different. They 
 are placed under the care of the Sisters of Charity by 
 their parents, to whom the sisters are accountable. 
 The rules of the institution arc read by all the schol- 
 ars, and all who enter must abide by the rules. The 
 young ladies arc not permitted to leave the ground or 
 fixed bound, to make visits, to receive or send letters 
 from the institution without examination ; in a word, 
 they are constantly under the eye of their teachers. 
 Hence they have no claim on the institution other than 
 an education, an equivalent for their pension. At the 
 end of the school term they can go home, to a friend's, 
 to spend the vacation, or remain and pay their board 
 during the vacation, and are confined to the rules pre- 
 scribed by the parents. 
 
 "It sometimes happens that a young miss is sent by 
 parents to have her removed from a particular circle 
 of society. A romantic, novel-reading girl soon be- 
 comes restless under school restriction. A love-en- 
 gagement or some romantic adventure will urge her to 
 invent means to escape the care and vigilance of her 
 teachers. Her object is soon accomplished; the sis- 
 ters are in trouble for the truant girl and her disap- 
 pomted parents ; the papers enjoy a holiday on the 
 first intimation of a hairbreadth escape of a nun from 
 a Catholic convent, and the gratified public sleep 
 soundly, well satisfied that, at least in this happy re- 
 public, liberty of conscience w^ill be proclaimed by the 
 press, and enthroned in the hearts of the people. 
 
 " I hope, Mr. Editor, you will not consider any word 
 of the within -personal. I assure you it is not so in- 
 tended. My aim is not bo much to teach in your pa- 
 
246 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 per, or in any other, but simply to state facts which 
 are known to me, and seemingly unknown to you and 
 others. J. O'Donnell." 
 
 Any formal reply to this effusion is entirely unnec- 
 essary. The reverend writer is evidently a " swift 
 witness," and would, if called upon, perhaps, be will- 
 ing to swear to any thing to protect the interests of 
 "Mother Church." He pronounces '''the statement 
 of a young lady nui-C^ to be '■^ radically false, '^'' gyqxi 
 before she had made a statement, and says he is ena- 
 bled to do so "from a knowledge of the rules which 
 govern the house of the Sisters of Charity." If such 
 evidence as this were allowed, where would there be 
 found protection for any subject of a system of gov- 
 ernment and discipline ? "Does the existence of a set 
 of rules always and necessarily imj^ly their observance, 
 and especially in a community whose religion incul- 
 cates the doctrine that "the end sanctifies the means?" 
 Why, this is the very question at issue. If the regu- 
 lations, as published, were carried out, there would, of 
 course, be no necessity for an escape. A child can see 
 this as v/ell as the Eev. J. O'Donnell. His letter is 
 unworthy of consideration ; but the Mother Superior 
 of St. Joseph's has also published an epistle, which is 
 so ingeniously v/orded, and carries such an air of truth- 
 fulness, that it is well calculated to deceive. 
 
THE MOTHER SUPERIOR'S LETTER. 247 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE MOTHER SUPERIOR'S LETTER. 
 
 TO THE EDITOR OF " THE CITIZEN." 
 
 *' St. Joseph's, near Emmettsburg, December l.st, 1854. 
 " Sir, — ^As numerous misrepresentations have ap- 
 peared in the public prints in relation to Miss Jose- 
 phine Bunkley's connection with and departure from 
 our institution, I have, from a sense of duty, though 
 with very great reluctance, concluded to communicate 
 to you for publication the following statement of facts, 
 exhibiting the exact truth of the matter. 
 
 "About two years ago, Miss BunT^ley, of her own 
 accord, came here, and made a spiritual retreat, that 
 is, spent some days in meditation and prayer. She 
 then expressed an ardent desire to become a Sister of 
 Charity— a member of our society. As she was yet 
 young, and a convert to the Catholic faith, she was 
 required to take time for mature consideration, and 
 was not received. One year after this she again ap- 
 plied by letter to be admitted as a candidate, and was 
 authorized to come here on trial. She accordingly 
 entered tlie novitiate, as others always do, to try her 
 vocation, perfectly free to leave us at any hour or on 
 any day she might please to select, and with the ex- 
 press and often-repeated assurance given her by us, 
 
248 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tliat she would do wrong to stay with us unless she 
 did so freely, and from the conviction that she was do- 
 ing the will of God and seeking her own happiness by 
 remaining. 
 
 "During the ten months that she was with us she 
 not only appeared happy, but constantly professed to 
 be so, and thus continued to express herself up to the 
 very eve of her departure. Every one who knows any 
 thing of us at all, knows that she had only to say the 
 word, and she could have left us without difficulty and 
 in a becoming manner at any time she pleased. Many 
 novices have left us after trying their vocation here, 
 who can testify how readily and cheerfully they were 
 aided by us in departing. Many who wished to stay 
 have been induced by us to go when we were satisfied 
 that they were not called by Providence to the hard- 
 ships and sacrifices of a religious life. 
 
 " The statement put forth that letters written to 
 Miss Bunkley by her father and others of her family 
 were withheld from her, or retui-ned to the writers, is 
 altogetlier untrue ; they were invariably delivered to 
 her. Her letters to her family or friends were always 
 sent as addressed. On one occasion only, w^hen, after 
 her many professions of her desire to spend her life as 
 a Sister of Charity, she spoke in a letter to her father 
 of spending six months at St. Joseph's, I asked her 
 meaning, and she replied that ' she did not loish her 
 father to hioio of her intention to become a sister, 
 though he suspected iV I then told her 'not to de- 
 ceive her father ; tliat God would not bless her under- 
 taking if she did ;' and I advised her to write the let- 
 ter over again. She did so, and the letter was sent. 
 
THE MOTHER SUPERIOR'S LETTER. 249 
 
 I can not now remember whether she took the first 
 letter back, or left it with me to be destroyed. This, 
 I presume, is the incident which has been perverted 
 into a charge against us that we destroyed lier letters 
 to her father, written to inform him of her unhappiness 
 at St. Joseph's and desire to leave. 
 
 " Miss 13. 's extraordinary mode of leaving our house 
 was as unnecessary as it was surprising. She could 
 have left at any hour of the day, and by the front 
 door. Tliere was no occasion to leave at night or 
 through a window ; for, though the doors, as of every 
 private dwelling, are locked to keep out intruders, the 
 keys are never removed from them. She had no rea- 
 son to hide behind a tree, as no one observed her go- 
 ing, and no one would have stopped her even if she 
 had been noticed. I should think it is almost super- 
 fluous to add that she was not pursued after her de- 
 parture became known. Miss B. left here on Thurs- 
 day morning, the 9th ultimo, before day. On the 
 morning after, I wrote by mail to her father, at Nor- 
 folk, informing him of her departure. On the follow- 
 ing Saturday, the overseer of our farm went to Crea- 
 gerstown, and brouglit back a note from her asking for 
 Jier trunk, clothes, two watches, and the money which 
 she had on deposit with our treasurer, amounting to 
 $2 62^. Xo one, in the mean time, liad gone after her. 
 No one asked her to com.e back. It was only on the 
 Monday of the next week that two of our sisters went 
 to Creagerstown, and, without seeing her, delivered 
 tlie above-named articles and obtained her written ac- 
 knowledgment of their receipt. 
 
 " There are two other inaccuracies, asserted or im- 
 L 2 
 
250 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 plied, in the various statements, in this county and 
 elsewhere, in regard to this ajBfair, which I may as well 
 now notice, once and for all. 
 
 "It is utterly untrue that Miss B. was in any man- 
 ner solicited or persuaded to enter our community ; on 
 the contrary, she was put off for a year w^hen she ap- 
 plied, and was afterward admitted only on trial at her 
 own earnest solicitation. It is equally untrue that 
 her trunk, clothing, jewelry, etc., were demanded of 
 her when ehe first entered the institution. They were 
 subject to her order on any day she miglit clioose to 
 leave us. It is also untrue that she ever expressed 
 to me the desire to return home, neither have I heard 
 at any time from any one of our sisters that she ever 
 expressed such a desire to her. It is likewise untrue 
 that she ever, w^ith our knowledge, wrote, or desired to 
 w^rite, to that effect to her father or any one else ; and 
 it is the purest fiction that she was ever commanded 
 to take her seat and write to her father or to any oth- 
 er person under our dictation. Every sister and nov- 
 ice, here or elsewhere, attached to our community, is 
 not only free to leave us, hut is urged hy us to go 
 whenever she may think it her duty to do so, and it is 
 well known to the public tliat, even wdien the novice 
 becomes a sister, she takes her vows hut for a single 
 yem\ and at its close is free to renew them or not, as 
 she may judge proper. Those who have chosen to 
 avail themselves of this alternative have never been 
 impeded or molested in the exercise of their free will, 
 but, on the contrary, pen, ink, and paper to write to 
 their friends, the public coach, and money to pay the 
 fare, are always at the disposal of any one inclined to 
 
THE MOTHER superior's LETTER. 251 
 
 withdraw. The members of our society are indeed 
 told that, if they desire to he of our number, they 
 must keep our rules, and in that sense give up their 
 own will, but whoever wills to leave is as free as air. 
 
 "Miss B.'s clandestine departure may throw a ro- 
 mantic coloring around the matter, but it can in no 
 way reflect discreditably upon this institution, nor 
 make a case contrary to plain facts. I have been in- 
 formed that Miss B. herself, during her stay in Crea- 
 gerstown, bore testimony to the truth of more than I 
 have said here respecting her kind treatment and-free- 
 dom from duress or restriction while she resided at 
 St. Joseph's. 
 
 "One word upon the general question. Our sisters 
 have fathers and brothers. We invite them to come and 
 examine if they find their sisters and daughters anxious 
 to leave, or in the least degree unhappy on account of 
 the state of life which they have adopted. Fathers 
 and brothers, relations of every degree, and friends, 
 do come, have always been in the habit of coming. 
 They have free access to their friends who are mem- 
 bers of our community. Is it not strange, then, that 
 such a system as has been charged against us could 
 exist for a year or a month ? A large number of our 
 community are scattered over the whole United States, 
 are constantly traveling from city to city in public con- 
 veyances, and are regularly doing duty as nurses and 
 attendants in the public hospitals and asylums of the 
 country. Can it be believed that they are unable to find 
 means of escape, or of communicating v/itli their friends 
 at home ? ]\Ioreover, in our school here we have nu- 
 merous Protestant young ladies who are in daily in- 
 
252 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tercourse with the sisters. These young ladies are 
 constantlj visited by their parents and friends, and go 
 home to spend their vacations. They certainly could 
 Ibe made the medium of communication between any 
 sister and her friends, if there were such occasion for 
 it as has been represented by our assailants. The 
 fact that no such instance has ever occurred is suffi- 
 cient proof that it has never been necessary. 
 
 "Finally, it has been stated that sisters have died 
 here 'by inches' — wasting in slow despair. This 
 most charitable assertion is intended to create in the 
 public mind the suspicion or belief that they were the 
 victims of a cruel imprisonment. I have already dis- 
 posed of this calumny, but I will be excused for add- 
 ing that it is indeed inost true that several sisters have 
 died here during the last and preceding years, and it 
 is quite probable that others will follow them. Con- 
 sumption, slow and rapid, brought on by their ardu- 
 ous labors and nightly watchings at the death-beds of 
 poor men and women, of every clime and of every 
 creed, in the hospitals of the country, has indeed car- 
 ried off many Sisters of Charity, and will no doubt 
 continue to do its work of death. They go from this 
 their home in the fullness of health, on their missions 
 of mercy, and wlien they return it is sometimes only 
 to die. If this is matter of reproach, we have no re- 
 ply to make. If this provokes the taunt of the assail- 
 ant and feeds the uncharitable, we have only to sub- 
 mit in patience and humility, as far as our weak na- 
 ture may enable us, in feeble imitation of the example 
 of our divine Master, the Lord Jesus. 
 
 " S. M. Etienne Hall, I\L S. of St. Joseph's." 
 
REPLY TO THE MOTHER SUPERIOR'S I.ETTER. 253 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 REPLY TO THE MOTHER SUPERIOR'S LETTER. 
 
 The foregoing letter, of wliicli it was said, on its 
 first appearance, that " tlic public will discern in this 
 production the mind and Jesuitical craft of the priestly 
 polemic rather than the gushing sentiment of woman's 
 charity," makes a direct issue of veracity between the 
 !^Iother Superior and myself. As to some of the dis- 
 crepancies involved in our respective statements, the 
 public must decide on the bare assertion of each ; but 
 on the principal question — the right of voluntary de- 
 parture — to which all the rest are subordinate, I hope 
 to be able to satisfy every unprejudiced mind that this 
 right is a "myth"' — a mere abstraction purposed to 
 deceive — a promise to be kept or denied, a,s may be 
 deemed expedient and politic. 
 
 Though, in the preceding pages, I have narrated 
 candidly and fairly the circumstances and impressions 
 connected with my residence at St. Joseph's, I can not, 
 perhaps, reasonably expect a stranger to place greater 
 confidence in my assertions, if unsupported, than in 
 those of the Superior. Hence, before I proceed, let 
 me invite the impartial attention of my readers to what 
 may be styled the " presumptive evidence" of the case. 
 
 Let it be remembered that the community of" Sis- 
 
254 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ters of Charity" is one of the most attractive and effi- 
 cient institutions in the Roman Catholic Church, do- 
 ing more than any other to engage the interest and 
 approval of those outside of her limits, and make prose- 
 lytes to her communion. It has already become a very 
 powerful organization. In this country alone, besides 
 the ]\Iother-House, it embraces forty-one "missions," 
 which have their centre at Emmettsburg, but are 
 disseminated over the broad extent of these United 
 States. Under the superintendence of these insti- 
 tutions tliere are eigliteen female orphan asylums, 
 twenty-six schools, and several hospitals, in wdiich six 
 thousand patients are attended in the year. This or- 
 ganization is controlled by the priests ; and by its 
 ostentatious charities, and its assumed virtues, and 
 through the instrumentality of its numerous schools, 
 it exerts a vast influence. From their mode of life, 
 the secresy of their endeavors to promote the interests 
 of their Church, and their devotion to the work of ed- 
 ucation, the Sisters of Charity have not inappropriate- 
 ly been termed the " Female Jesuits." When the im- 
 portance and power of this community are duly esti- 
 mated, it will be clearly seen how momentous an ob- 
 ject it becomes at all hazards to preserve its reputa- 
 tion unsullied ; and wlien, moreover, it is remember- 
 ed that the doctrine of " mental reservation" is taught 
 and justified by the Jesuits and other orders in the 
 Papal Churcli — a doctrine which permits and recom- 
 mends the utterance of a falsehood to promote the in- 
 terests of "religion" — the presumption, to say the 
 least, of a strong inducement to enforce obedience by 
 the exercise of a power which lies in the hands of 
 
KEPLY TO THE MOTHER SUPEKIOr'S LETTER. 255 
 
 tliosc interested in the accomplishment of that design 
 is plainly made out.* 
 
 * The vows taken by the Sisters of Charity are of the same nature 
 with those assumed in the various orders of nuns. The distinction is 
 with regard to the period during which these vows continue binding. 
 In the monastic orders it is for Hfe ; in the sisterhood for a stated 
 term ; but, as the preceding narrative has showai, the renewal of these 
 vows at the expiration of that term is performed while in the institu- 
 tion, and as a matter of course ; and the duty of obedience is in force 
 to require the immediate resumption of tlie obUgations just expired. 
 There is no interval of emancipation ; so that the difference between 
 this community and that of a "close convent" is simply nominal, or 
 consists in a formal and periodical repetition of the solemn promises 
 made at the outset. 
 
 But, apart from this consideration, it will be borne in mind that the 
 vows themselves, pledging the individual to poverty, chastity, and obe- 
 dience, are identically the same, whether taken for a longer or a short- 
 er time. The obligation of a strict, blind, absolute, unhesitating obe- 
 dience to an arbitrary authority weighs upon the Sister of Charity just 
 as heavily as upon the recluse of a nunnery. And what is the degree 
 of freedom for the exercise of a choice of continued servitude afforded 
 to the inmates of convents in our own day and among our own peo- 
 ple ! We shall not simply take the attestation of all intelligent ob- 
 servers, who know that bolts, and bars, and gratings, and high walls 
 are the invariable and essential characteristics of those institutions, 
 wherever they exist in our towns and cities ; we shall not content 
 ourselves with recalling the numerous, and notorious, and well-authen- 
 ticated cases of escape, whether attempted or accomplished, from these 
 hicrh walls, and bolted doors, and grated windows of the nunneries of 
 America and England ; we shall quote the clear, distinct, unanswer- 
 able words of a Roman Catholic author, a saint canonized only a few 
 years since, the founder of a religious order, whose work, entitled The 
 Nun Sanctified, is the text-book of convents— whose entire writings, 
 according to a recent Roman Catholic author, were more than twenty 
 times rigorously discussed by the sacred congregation of rites, which 
 decreed that not one word in them had been found worthy of censure ; 
 and we shall quote from an edition published at Dublin in the year 
 1S48, for the use of Enghsh nuns and postulants. Hear, then, what 
 St. Alpiionsus Liguori says of the ''freedom'" of those under relig- 
 ious vows : 
 
256 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 On the other hand, I would ask, in the name of 
 charity and sound reason, can any plausible motive be 
 
 " It is true that even in the cloisters there are some .... who do 
 not hve as reUgious ought to Hve. To be a good reUgious and to be con- 
 tent are one and the same thing I have been accustomed to say 
 
 that a religious in her convent enjoys a foretaste of paradise, or suf- 
 fers AN ANTICIPATION OF HELL. To cudure the pains of hell is to be 
 separated from God ; to be forced against the inclinations of na- 
 ture to do the will of others ; to be distnisted, despised, reproved, and 
 CHASTISED by those icitli lohom %ve live ; to be shut up in a place cf 
 confinement from WHICH IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO ESCAPE ; in a word, it 
 is to be in continual torture, without a 'moment's peace V 
 
 Elsewhere the language of this saint is, if possible, even more ex- 
 plicit. Under the head of " Vvliat ought a person to do loho finds that 
 she has become a nun against her inclination ?" he says — not, as the 
 Mother Superior of St. Joseph's would have us understand, that in such 
 a case the sister may open the door of her convent and go forth— but, 
 
 " Perhaps you will tell me you can never have peace, because you 
 find that you have entered religion [/. c, become a nun] to please your 
 parents, and against your own will. I answer thus : If at the time of 
 your profession you had not a vocation, I would not have advised you 
 to make the vows of a religious, but / xcould have advised you to sus- 
 pc7id your resolution of going back to the world, and casting yourself 
 into the many dangers of perdition which are found in the world. I 
 now see you placed in the house of God, and made (either voluntarily 
 or unwillingly) the spouse of Jesus Christ. For my part, I can not 
 pity you more than I could pity a person who had been transported 
 (even against his will) from a place infected with pestilence and sur- 
 rounded by enemies, to a healthful country, to be placed there for life, 
 secure against every foe. 
 
 " I add, grant that what you say is true : now that you are professed 
 in a convent, and that it is impossible for you to leave it, tell me, 
 what do you wish to do1 If you have entered religion [i. e., become 
 a nun] against your inclination, you must now remain with cheerful- 
 ness. If you abandon yourself to melancholy, you must lead a life of 
 misery, and will expose yourself to great danger of suffering a hell here 
 and another hereafter. You must then make a virtue of necessity ; and 
 if the devil has brought you into religion [i. e., a nunnery] for your de- 
 struction, let it be your care to avail yourself of your holy state for your 
 salvation, and to become a saint. Give yourself up to God from the 
 
EEPLY TO THE MOTHER SUPERIOIVS LETTER. 257 
 
 assigned why I should escape from the mstitution at 
 a risk of detection and punishment, and travel ten 
 
 heart, and I assure you that by so doing you shall become more con- 
 tent than all the princesses and queens of this world. Being asked his 
 opinion regarding a person who had become a nun against her will, St. 
 Francis de Sales answered : ' It is true that this child, if she had not 
 been obliged by her parents, would not have left the world ; but this 
 is of little importance, provided she knows that the force employed by 
 her parents is more useful to her than the permission to follow her 
 own will. For now she can say. If I had not lost such liberty, I should 
 have lost true liberty.' The saint meant to say, that, had she not been 
 compelled by her parents to become a nun, her liberty, which would 
 have induced her to remain in the world, would have robbed her of the 
 true liberty of the children of God, which consists in freedom from the 
 chains and dangers of this world." — P. 26, 549-551. 
 
 Here, then, is the Mother Superior of St. Joseph's directly at issue, 
 not only with Liguori, but with the friend of the founder of her own 
 order, the holy Francis de Sales ! Perhaps, however, the statements are 
 reconcilable. The Mother Superior is speaking to a Protestant world, 
 outside the walls. To them she says. Don't believe these stories 
 about forced seclusion, and all that ; there is perfect liberty here ; who- 
 ever wills to leave is as free as air. But to the poor prisoners inside 
 she would doubtless agree with the saint in reasoning, You must make 
 a virtue of necessity ; it is impossible for you to leave I 
 
 With reo-ard to those members of the sisterhood who, having finish- 
 ed their probation, are sent out into the world ojn their errands of pros- 
 elytism in hospitals and private houses, there is no one that ques- 
 tions their voluntary adherence to the ordfer whose interests they are 
 servino- ; nor does any one doubt that there are, in the mother-house 
 itself, a large proportion, if not a majority of members, whose choice 
 it is, from whatever motive, to remain in their position. But will 
 this liberty, granted to some, be alleged in proof that others, who 
 are confessedly under restraint, are also in the exercise of their free 
 choice 1 Does this invalidate the testimony of numerous and unim- 
 peachable witnesses, who, having fled in fear and trembling from op- 
 pression and imprisonment, assert, and declare w^hat they have both 
 seen and heard for themselves 1 Let an unprejudiced public decide. 
 
 For what purpose, we would ask and reiterate, are such precautions 
 taken against the escape of persons immured in these convents and 
 other religious houses 1 What signify these tremendous vows, this 
 
258 MISS bunkley'>s book. 
 
 miles on an unknown road, exposed to danger and 
 insult, if I enjoyed the privilege of departure at free 
 choice ? Until such a rational motive be adduced, is 
 there not a fair presumption, at least, that I have 
 spoken the truth ? 
 
 surrender of will, these gratings and bars, these prison-like inclosuresl 
 If there is freedom, why these semblances of restraint 1 Why oppose 
 the just demand of a people jealous, for themselves and their daughters, 
 of that sacred right of personal liberty for all guiltless of crime, in the 
 purchase of which their fathers poured out their life's blood 1 Why 
 refuse to " bring the prisoners out from the prison ;" they that are 
 " snared and hid in prison-houses ;" that are there " for a prey, and 
 none delivereth ; for a spoil, and none saith. Restore 1" 
 
 As for the facilities enjoyed by parents and relatives in communi- 
 cating with the inmates of religious institutions, we shall examine this 
 point at large in another chapter. 
 
OTHER FUGITIVES FROM ST. JOSEPH'S. 259 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 OTHER FUGITIVES FROM ST. JOSEPH'S. 
 
 The Mother Superior, in lier letter, endea\ors to 
 make it appear that no effort was made after my es- 
 cape to recapture me, and very adroitly suppresses cer- 
 tain facts in order to leave this impression. I shall 
 attempt to show how much truth there is in this state- 
 ment, and account for the fact that the pursuit was not 
 successful. 
 
 I have already said that it was not a "class-day" 
 when I escaped. By this I mean that the teachers or 
 class-sisters were not required to he on duty in the 
 academy upon that day, which was Thursday— a day 
 of recreation for the boarders. I had chosen this day 
 as the most suitable, to avoid an early discovery. If 
 missed at the novitiate in the morning, it would be 
 supposed that I was in the infirmary ; and, on the con- 
 trary,- if missed in the infirmary, it would be presumed 
 that I was in the novitiate. Such, doubtless, was the 
 case ; for, as I afterward learned, my absence was not 
 detected until just before night prayers. 
 
 Now, on the supposition that the overseer was sent 
 the next morning to the convent at Frederick in search 
 of me — a distance of twenty-two miles — it is evident 
 that he could not Ttell have returned to St. Joseph's, 
 
260 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 stopping hy tlie way at Crcagerstown, before Saturday. 
 On liis way through Creagerstown, in going, he in- 
 quired if I was at the hotel, and was answxred in the 
 neo-ative. On his return, he again stopped to make in- 
 quiry, insisting that I must be there, and demanding 
 to see me. The proprietor brought the message to me, 
 and I consented to an interview. This was, I think, 
 on Saturday afternoon ; and I should add that the man 
 was intoxicated. Yet the ^lother Superior says that 
 " no one, in the mean time, had gone after" me, and 
 again, that "no one asked [me] to come back." It is 
 clear, under these circumstances, that the two sisters 
 Avho came on the following ]\Ionday could not possibly 
 liave done so earlier, as they would not have come on 
 Sunday, and were not made aware of my locality until 
 the Saturday evening subsequent to my escape. 
 
 It will be seen, from what I have stated elsewhere, 
 tliat some postulants are sent away from the institu- 
 tion, and this for obvious reasons — the lack of requi- 
 sites, as wealth or expectation of property, talent 
 above mediocrity, beauty, education, accomplishments, 
 or the possession of some traits of character which 
 render them unht for the purposes of the community. 
 Of such, and such only, can it be said with truth that 
 they are " urged to go.''^ 
 
 ■The JMother Superior states that "every sister or 
 novice here or elsewhere attached to our community is 
 not only free to leave us, but is urged by us to go 
 whenever she may think it her duty to do so." If 
 this be true, it is scarcely credible that a single in- 
 mate, for the sake of mere notoriety, should confront 
 the danger and shame of a steal^iy departure rather 
 
OTHER ^L'l;lTl^•ES FKOM ST. JOSEPH'S. 261 
 
 than make a peaceful and permitted egress from the 
 institution. But the case is not a solitary one. There 
 are a sufficient number of cases to prove, beyond the 
 doubt of the unbiased, that restraint is exercised in 
 the matter. 
 
 In the month of June, 1853, a novice who had es- 
 caped from St. Joseph's was pursued and caught on 
 the farm of ]\Ir. John Dorsey, four miles south of Em- 
 mettsburg, on the main road leading to Frederick City. 
 Her pursuers were two " sisters," who traveled in a 
 carriage. When the poor fugitive recognized them, 
 she left the road and endeavored to escape through a 
 field of wheat ; but, leaping from the vehicle, the sis- 
 ters overtook her, and, seizing her by the arms, led her 
 to the carriage, placed her in it, and drove back to the 
 institution. This much, which can be proved in a 
 court of justice, is all tliat is known of the occurrence. 
 What was the destiny of this unhappy girl is a mys- 
 tery probably never to be solved. 
 
 The following letter concerning the escape of anoth- 
 er novice speaks for itself. The writer is an intelli- 
 gent Presbyterian clergyman of high character in Em- 
 mettsburg. The communication was made to a friend 
 who made inquiry relative to the circumstance. 
 
 *' Emmettsburg, February 21, 1853. 
 
 "Deae Sir, — The questions you ask with respect 
 to the young lady who eloped from St. Joseph's and 
 came to my house I answer thus : 
 
 " She called herself Helen O'Here, O'Here being 
 the name of her mother's present husband. Her true 
 name, she said, was Grier. She was a novice, and had 
 
262 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 been raised at Albany, New York. If not born in 
 Ireland, she was of Irish extraction. She was at my 
 house for two or three weeks. She left St. Joseph's, 
 not abjuring the Catholic faith, but because at the 
 institution she was oppressed with unusual labor, and 
 had, as she said, no time for devotion, the priest often 
 assuring her and her co-operatives that this labor, hon- 
 estly performed, would be as acceptable as their pray- 
 ers. She entered as a novice, under the impression 
 that this place was, indeed, the centre of holy influ- 
 ences, and that nowhere else could she serve her Maker 
 with such entire self-consecration ; but (as she said) 
 
 SHE FOUND NOTHING LIKE EELIGION THEEE. I asked 
 
 her but few questions, but she spoke with much free- 
 dom, and sometimes, I thought, with intemperate ar- 
 dor. I heard her assert that 'if continuing to be a 
 " Sister of Charity" would certainly take her to heav- 
 en, she would not consent,' so decided was her disgust 
 with what she had seen and passed through. 
 
 " She was accompanied on her return to Albany by 
 Mr. J., who resides in the State of Vermont, and who 
 kindly took charge of her. Dr. x\. and Mr. D. G. ad- 
 vanced the necessary funds, the amount of which was 
 shortly returned. 
 
 ^r * * * * * 
 
 " She never said she was not a Catholic, and she is 
 at this time with her mother in Albany. 
 
 " Very possibly, all these statements she may, un- 
 der certain influences, say are false. 
 
 "E. S. Geier. 
 "Rev. G. W. A." 
 
OTHER FUGITIVES FEOM ST. JOSEPH'S. 263 
 
 Tlie reader will note the peculiar features of the case 
 here stated. Helen O'Here was evidently brought up 
 in the Koman Catholic Church, and was averse to di- 
 vulge the true reasons for her escape. The causes al- 
 leged by her are not sufficient to account for the strong 
 and decided expressions of disgust and aversion utter- 
 ed by her in reference to the institution. 
 
 I might confidently rest my case here, the chief as- 
 sertion of the ^lother Superior having been clearly dis- 
 proved — that, namely, of the entire liberty of all the 
 inmates of the institution to depart at pleasure. Lit- 
 tle reliance can be placed upon the assertions connect- 
 ed with such an utter distortion of facts ; but I desire 
 to notice a few additional passages in the letter, and 
 shall consider them in as brief a manner as possible. 
 
264 MlfcJS BUNKLEr'S BOOK. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 REPLY CONTINUED. 
 
 " DuEiNG the ten months that she was with us, she 
 hot only appeared happj, "but constantly professed to 
 be so, and thus continued to express herself up to the 
 very eve of her departure." 
 
 The motives that compelled me to conceal my dis- 
 content and sorrow while a member of the community 
 1 have already stated. The slightest murmur of dis- 
 satisfaction or complaint was sure to be visited with 
 punishment. This I had learned by experience as 
 well as observation, and hence my silence, my dissim- 
 ulation, if any choose to call it so. The situation was 
 a trying one, and the views and feelings peculiar to it 
 should not be harshly judged by one who has never 
 been placed in the same position of distress and ap- 
 prehension. One thought alone might influence to 
 such a concealment, and that is the fear of being trans- 
 ferred at any time to a distant and strange locality, 
 when all hope of relief would be given up. With this 
 anxiety weighing upon her mind, and the superadded 
 dread of present punishment, who can blame a timid 
 and unprotected woman for dissembling her true state 
 of mind ? 
 
 With respect to the account given of my letter to 
 
REPLY CONTINUED. 265 
 
 my friends, it will be perceived that the only material 
 difference between that and my own statement lies in 
 the motive alleged, l^licfact that a letter was writ- 
 ten by me to my father, announcing my intention to 
 spend only six months at the institution — that it was 
 read by the Superior and disapproved of, and that the 
 writing of another letter was procured, is admitted ; 
 but this fact is distorted by the extraordinary asser- 
 tion that I wished to deceive ony father. Is this to 
 be believed ? Why should I wish to practice this de- 
 ception. Far from it. I was chiefly anxious to con- 
 fess my error, to tell him of my sad disappointment, 
 to acquaint him with my change of views. 
 
 But if, as the Superior states, letters from members 
 of the community are always sent as addressed, and 
 "pen, ink, and paper to write to their friends are al- 
 ways at the disposal of any one inclined to withdraw," 
 how came it that she read this letter of mine f Why 
 was it not forwarded without examination f 
 
 I might thus continue to examine, seriatim, the sev- 
 eral statements composing this ingenious document, 
 but I can not think this necessary. At all events, 
 having, in the 2:)receding pages, told my unvarnished 
 story, I can do no more than reiterate. Let me only 
 add, that this "freedom to depart at will" is a mere 
 fiction for the uninitiated. It is well known who can 
 be trusted and who must be watched. Su2:)pose, how- 
 ever, that such a rule exists, to the effect that all who 
 wish to do so are at liberty to depart. It may be 
 doubted whether many would leave the institution 
 even openly and by daylight, without means, friends, 
 or a knowledge of the locality, and throw themselves 
 
 M 
 
266 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 upon strangers, with the certainty, too, that their char- 
 acter would be assailed. But suppose that one should 
 summon the resolution to make the attempt. Pre- 
 texts and means would most unquestionably be found 
 speedily enough to detain her. Those, on the other 
 hand, who have no desire to leave^ would, if asked, 
 promptly reply that "they could go home if they 
 chose." But let them grow discontented and try it I 
 They would find it a promise made only to the ear. 
 
ANONYMOUJS ATTACKS. 267 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 ANONYMOUS ATTACKS. 
 
 In addition to the letters which I have thus noticed, 
 there have been made various allegations and insin- 
 uations of a baser kind. Some of these are ridicu- 
 lous, involving my mental sanity, etc. ; others, more 
 malignant, accusing me of willful falsehood and decep- 
 tion. Those who know me can decide upon these 
 charges. Vulgar and threatening letters,* from sources 
 unknown, have also reached me, the contents of which 
 were of a nature to provoke only contempt and dis- 
 gust. That the public may judge of these effusions, 
 I subjoin copies of two, written, evidently, in a dis- 
 guised hand, and by the same person, whom I suppose 
 to be a priest, whose signature, however, can not be 
 made out. Both are post-marked Baltimore, one bear- 
 ing date January 23d, and the other March 16th, but 
 the inside contains neither place nor date. 
 
 *' Miss Bunkley, — It is announced in the ' Fred- 
 erick Examiner,' and copied into the Baltimore papers 
 of this morning, that you are engaged in writing a 
 work for publication regarding your disgraceful con- 
 duct at St. Joseph's, Emmettsburg. 
 
 " Ag it appears to be your intention to gain a little 
 
268 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 notoriety, your situation is any thing but an {im)e7i- 
 viable one. The notorious Maria Monk, who publish- 
 ed, a few years since, 'Awful Disclosures,' and was 
 backed by a host of idle vagabonds — Protestant preach- 
 ers (who are now, we learn, engaged in the same 
 dirty work with you at Norfolk), was confined in the 
 New York City Prison, where she had been sent as a 
 common vagabond, thief, and open prostitute, and died 
 there. The public, having been humbugged so often 
 by such lying tales, will not soon again encourage any 
 similar work. Do you understand that ! ! I And you 
 may inform the Protestant preachers, who are now gull- 
 ing you, that their eiforts will be all in vain. Come, 
 now, no lies ; give us the truth, and give us the names 
 and residences of the editors all over the Union that 
 have made offers unprecedented for a narrative of your 
 life. Ha I you are caught in your own trap, eh ! Oh 
 shame ! shame ! ! shame ! ! ! When your work ap- 
 pears, I will give you and your fellow co-laborers such 
 a basting through the public press as will make you 
 shed almost tears of blood, as I know something about 
 you. So look out ! publish the work, now, if you dare. 
 Send this to the editor of that vile sheet, the Frederick 
 Examiner. Your very obedient servant." 
 
 So much for No. 1, whose threatened excoriation 
 and denunciation of the "Protestant preachers," the 
 "Frederick Examiner," and my humble self, judging 
 from the above classic and scathing epistle, are doubt- 
 less tremblingly anticipated by all the objects of the 
 writer's wrath. No. 2 is still more refined, delectable, 
 and overwhelming. 
 
ANONYMOUS ATTACKS. 201) 
 
 " Miss Bunkley, — I inclose you a letter, publish- 
 ed in last Saturday's 'Catholic Mirror,' for your in- 
 formation, and in order that you may know what a 
 very pretty notoriety you may have obtained through- 
 out the land — another ' Maria Monk' — a new author- 
 ess of ' Awful Developments' — ' Two Years in a Con- 
 vent.' How much money have you received from the 
 many and numerous letters you have received from 
 editors and publishers in every part of the Union ! ! ! 
 Bah ! when you do utter falsehoods, you know how to 
 utter a good one. Bah ! you common ass ! all you 
 want is that animal's long ears, his tail, and hoofs, to 
 make a complete ass of yourself. You put out a 
 work ! ! That you are unable to do. The miserable 
 wretches of preachers who have been with you may 
 indeed publish a second edition of ' Maria Monk,' who 
 died in New York City Prison in September, 1839, 
 where she had been confined as a common prostitute, 
 a common drunkard, and a common thief. Why did 
 not those preachers fly to her aid, to rescue her from 
 so vile an end ? This is the miserable end of all who 
 attack the Church founded and established by Jesus 
 Christ, and, as He says, ' the gates of hell shall never 
 prevail' Oh ! when your death-bed scene comes, how 
 will your tune be altered. ' You shall call upon me,' 
 says our Lord, ' and you shall not find me, and you 
 shall die in your sins.' I have been waiting a long 
 time now for your work ; come, come, let the public 
 have it. But I can assure you, I stand ready to put 
 the dissecting-knife over it in a manner you little 
 dream of — so now beware ! Yours, etc." 
 
270 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 Accompanying this precious effusion was a docu- 
 ment from the Catholic Mirror^ purporting to be a 
 letter from a personage who signs himself *' J. J. E. 
 N.," and speaking of my escape from St. Joseph's. It 
 contains little else than a repetition of what the Moth- 
 er Superior had said before. The initials appended to 
 this article I recognized as those of a Catholic priest, 
 named Norman, who has an elderly sister at the insti- 
 tution, and whose visits, of course, are eagerly wel- 
 comed. I recollect perfectly the circumstances of a 
 visit made by him during my stay at St. Joseph's, and 
 the pains taken to render it agreeable. The article, 
 however, contains no intimation that its author was a 
 priest — one of a class whose interests and purposes 
 are well subserved by lavishing praises on these insti- 
 tutions, these " priests' prisons for women," as they 
 have been not inaptly styled by an eloquent and fear- 
 less writer. 
 
THE author's design. 271 
 
 CHAPTEE LIV. 
 
 THE author's design. 
 
 The public mind lias begun to appreciate, with some 
 degree of correctness, the evil influence of monastic es- 
 tablishments, and those of a kindred character. It 
 has, at least, commenced to perceive the anomaly of 
 such a system of personal restraint and forced obedi- 
 ence in a land of free institutions and liberal princi- 
 ples. Jesuitism, in its worst phase, is now the con- 
 servative power of the Roman Catholic Church, com- 
 pelled, in self-preservation, a second time to appeal to 
 the order of Loyola for aid and defense. The United 
 States teem with these intriguing priests, as well as 
 with their confederates, the '' Jesuits of the short 
 robe," or lay Jesuits, among whom even women are 
 numbered. Convents and religious communities, such 
 as those of the " Sisters of Charity" and the " Sisters 
 of Mercy," are among their chief instrumentalities to 
 promote the ends of the papacy. The most strenuous 
 efforts are made, in every variety of mode, to augment 
 the numbers and swell the resources of these institu- 
 tions, and hence the alacrity and energy with which 
 so many protectors rush to their vindication when it is 
 threatened to reveal the truth concerning them. Nor 
 is it always the case that exertions to secure fresh vie- 
 
272 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tims are confined to the use of persuasion and advice, 
 but physical assistance can be tendered to convey 
 those whom circumstances might prevent from follow- 
 ing the desired course to the place of confinement. 
 There is a married lady residing in the vicinity of St. 
 Joseph's who has been known to take young girls, in 
 the absence of their parents, without the consent of 
 their natural protectors, and despite their known wish- 
 es, and remove them to that institution and to the 
 convent in Frederick. I have in my possession the 
 names of the parties, and can, if necessary, give proof 
 of the occurrences. 
 
 If, by my simple narration of facts, I shall succeed 
 in communicating a salutary caution to enthusiastic 
 and innocent girls, who, by devout and blissful pic- 
 tures of a "religious" state, artfully presented to their 
 minds, may have been led to entertain the thought of 
 becoming members of a convent, or an institution of 
 similar nature, I shall have reached my utmost aim. 
 For such I entertain the warmest sympathy, and the 
 kindest appreciation of their motives and desires. But 
 I would, God helping me, preserve them, if it be pos- 
 sible, from suffering, sorrow, and, it may be, moral 
 death. He who reads the heart knows the purity of 
 my intention and the truth of my declarations. 
 
INTERVIEWS WITH MY CONFESSOK. 273 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 INTERVIEWS WITH MY CONFESSOR. 
 
 I HAVE only, in conclusion, to relate one of the at- 
 tempts made to bring me back within the possession 
 of my enemies, and into the pale of the Church of 
 Rome. To do this understandingly, reference must 
 be made to the period of my entrance upon convent 
 life. 
 
 When on my way to St. Joseph's, to enter as a pos- 
 tulant at that institution, I wrote to my confessor, 
 
 the Rev. , of Norfolk, and acquainted him with 
 
 the determination at which I had arrived, contrary, 
 however, to his own advice. My letter was mailed at 
 a small town between Baltimore and Emmettsburg. I 
 do not know that he ever received it. As I have else- 
 where stated, I saw him at the institution. He was 
 not of the Order of Lazarists, and had often recom- 
 mended me not to go to St. Joseph's. 
 
 Some months, however, subsequent to my entrance, 
 his sister was placed there as a boarder. It was not 
 long before her health began to fail. I frequently saw 
 her in tears, and at times, when passing her, endeavor- 
 ed to learn the cause of her distress. I noticed that 
 she was not treated with kindness by the community, 
 and on one occasion, when meeting her in the passage 
 M2 
 
274 
 
 to the infirmary, whither she had been sent, she told 
 me of her unhappiness, of her desire to return, and how 
 she wished lier brother might know how miserable she 
 was. Saying this, she burst into tears. A few weeks 
 passed, and I missed her from the academy entirely. 
 I learned that she had been again sent to the infirmary. 
 
 One day, passing by the library, I saw some one 
 sitting just behind the door, and, conjecturing that it 
 might be this young lady, I entered the room. I was 
 struck with her pale and emaciated appearance ; and 
 she, too, remarked how altered I was. She thought 
 I must be unhappy, and said I should have taken her 
 brother's advice not to enter the institution. I dared 
 not, however, confide my real feelings to her. I had 
 often heard unkind remarks made respecting this young 
 person by the directress and others of the academy. 
 
 Her brother, hearing of her ill health, came to St. 
 Joseph's. I saw him, but had no opportunity of con- 
 versing with him without risk of being reported. Aft- 
 er his departure she grew worse, and was sent to the 
 Baltimore infirmary. The directors and officers of the 
 community were much displeased because her brother 
 had not taken her away when he came, and I over- 
 heard one of them say that it was a piece of imposi- 
 tion, etc. 
 
 This priest visited me twice at my father's house, 
 the first time shortly after my escape. This call was 
 quite unexpected to me. I was seated, in company 
 with a young lady, in the parlor, at the piano, when 
 
 the Rev. was announced. I was both surprised 
 
 and alarmed. He entered, and, advancing toward me, 
 extended his hand, remarking, "I am happy to see 
 
INTERVIEWS WITH IVIY CONFESSOR. 275 
 
 you at home, Josephine." I answered hastily, "Are 
 you really glad to see me at home ?" "I am," he re- 
 peated. I told him that I regretted he had thought 
 it necessary to call, as my father would be much dis- 
 pleased to meet him or hear of his visit. He then 
 stated his object, which was to induce me to go to the 
 church to confession and to attend mass, I told 
 him it was impossible ; that I would never again en- 
 ter that Church ; and, indeed, that there was a report 
 in circulation to the effect that if I should attempt to 
 enter it, I would be put out for scandalizing it. He 
 begged me to fear nothing of the sort ; and assured me 
 that if any person should dare to touch me for such a 
 purpose, he would announce his displeasure from the 
 altar. He left, urging me to come to church, insist- 
 ing that he could not go without my promise, and as- 
 suring me that he would still continue to regard me 
 as a membei of his flock. 
 
 In the course of this conversation I told him of the 
 treatment his sister had received at the institution, 
 and that I thought it would be well to send for her at 
 the Baltimore infirmary, as I knew she would be hap- 
 pier away from it. 
 
 On his second visit, two or three weeks after this 
 interview, I was alone. He remained half an hour. 
 He told me that he had come, thinking I was in trouble 
 in consequence of the Lady Superior's letter. He had 
 read it that very day, and considered it quite uncalled 
 for; he was sorry it had been written. As I had 
 made no charges against the institution publicly, there 
 could be no occasion for writing and publishing that 
 document. He again urged me to come to confession 
 
276 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 and to attend mass. I answered that I had no wish 
 to do so, but that, even if I desired it, my father would 
 never permit me to enter his door again. He was 
 aware, I said, how strong had been his opposition 
 from the outset, and now it would be much stronger 
 than ever. I expressed the fear tliat my father would 
 be greatly displeased should he come home and find 
 him there. 
 
 During these remarks, when I refused to attend 
 mass, assigning, among other reasons, that my father 
 would not consent to my doing so, he exclaimed, 
 "Come, then — come with me noio ; I will protect 
 you; I have a home for you; come with me!" It 
 was in the evening, just before twilight. I trembled 
 with agitation ; my former attachments and predilec- 
 tions for the Roman Catholic Church rushed upon me 
 with such force that I feared for my own steadfastness 
 and my safety. I did not reply for some time : a con- 
 flict raged within my breast ; but an earnest desire to 
 do my duty toward God and my conscience prevail- 
 ed. I hesitated, and reflected for a few moments, un- 
 til my composure was regained and my former de- 
 termination resumed. I then said, faintly, "I can 
 not — I can not." He rose from his seat, leaned 
 against the mantle, and seemed overwhelmed with dis- 
 appointment. He repeated, " I can not leave without 
 your promise to return to the Church." I told him 
 that could never be, and desired that he would not 
 come again. Then, laying his hand upon my arm, he 
 said, " Josephine, have I lost you ? Josephine, have 
 I lost you ? Have I lost a lamb from my fold ? Am 
 I no more to be your coiifessor ?" As I made no re- 
 
INTERVIEWS WITH MY CONFESSOR. 277 
 
 ply, he continued, " I am at least your friend, as I 
 have ever been ; and when you are alone in the world, 
 I will be your friend, no matter what may happen. 
 Josephine, mark these words : Don't utter a syllable 
 of what I have said to you, either to a Catholic or to 
 a Protestant." He finally made me promise that I 
 would reflect upon all that he had said, and write him 
 a letter ; and assured me that, should I request it, he 
 would not come again. As he was going toward the 
 door, he turned to me, saying, "How can I leave you 
 without your promise to come back to the Church ?" 
 Then, reluctantly bidding me good evening, he with- 
 drew. 
 
 I went to my room in a state of excitement impos- 
 sible to describe, and that evening penned a letter with 
 a view to prevent another visit, being greatly intimi- 
 dated by what had passed. Indeed, I feared that, had 
 he come again, I should have been lost. 
 
 In this letter, the details of which I can not now 
 accurately recall, I think I intimated to him that I re- 
 tained yet some attachment for the Roman Catholic 
 Church, and hoped once more, at some future time, to 
 kneel before the altar where I had passed so many 
 hours in silent but ecstatic contemplation. This let- 
 ter produced the desired effect. He did not call again. 
 
 The first visit of the priest soon became known in 
 the neighborhood, and a report was circulated, as I be- 
 lieve by himself, that I had sent my sister for him. 
 This was untrue ; I had no wish to see him, nor to be 
 urged to enter the Church again, although there yet 
 lingered in my mind something of those sentiments 
 which had been assiduously cultivated for years by 
 
278 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 priestly influence, and had not been completely dissi- 
 pated even by those circumstances so calculated to re- 
 move them through which I had just passed. 
 
 Other attempts liave been made to allure me back, 
 and repeated threats have been made to take me back 
 by force, but of these I shall not speak more fully. In 
 my own mind there remains no doubt of a deliberate 
 pui-pose to injure me, as well as to throw discredit 
 upon my testimony with regard to the institution of 
 St. Josephs. 
 
INSPECTION OF CONVENTS. 279 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 I. INSPECTION OF CONVENTS. 
 
 In the year 1852, a movement was commenced in 
 Great Britain for the purpose of petitioning the legis- 
 lative body of that country to provide in some man- 
 ner for the placing of convents, and other institutions 
 of similar character, under legal inspection and control. 
 This object will be more fully gathered from the fol- 
 lowing document, circulated in England, and signed 
 by many thousand women, for presentation to Parlia- 
 ment : 
 
 " Your petitioners are deeply sensible of the bless- 
 ings of civil and religious liberty enjoyed by the peo- 
 ple of this country ; but they regret to observe that 
 from one class of their fellow-subjects these blessings 
 are in a great measure withheld, in consequence of the 
 existence of the conventual system — a system alto- 
 gether opposed to the pure and benevolent character 
 of the Gospel, and under which young and inexperi- 
 enced females are immured in nunneries ; denied the 
 privilege of free intercourse with their relatives and 
 friends ; deprived of the profitable and wholesome dis- 
 cipline of social life, and exposed to concealed dangers ; 
 from which unnatural restraint, if they should repent 
 of vows taken in ignorance or rashness, escape is al- 
 
280 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 most impossible. Your petitioners therefore entreat 
 your honorable House to pass such a measure as may 
 effectually open these establishments to regular inspec- 
 tion, so that no person may be received into, or de- 
 tained in, or dismissed from them without the knowl- 
 edge of the proper authorities." 
 
 It is not a little remarkable that a proposition of 
 this nature should have excited among the Roman 
 Catholics of Great Britain, under the instigation, 
 doubtless, of their priests, a storm of opposition and 
 abuse. Those who are conscious of the integrity of 
 their motives and the rectitude of their course do 
 not ordinarily shrink from an examination of either. 
 It might reasonably be imagined that a system so con- 
 tinually lauded to the skies as the perfection of purity 
 and sanctity on earth, could well afford to court the 
 scrutiny of the public. Deeds of light do not require 
 the darkness or the shade. An effort, however, to open 
 the nunneries of England to a legal inspection, for the 
 prevention of possible oppression or restraint, instead 
 of being hailed as a measure which would infallibly 
 add lustre to the virtues and attractions of those es- 
 tablishments, was denounced with every epithet of in- 
 dignation and horror. It was characterized as "the 
 gTOSsest of insults ;" " cowardly and wanton ;" "a most 
 unmanly attempt to deprive these sisters of a security 
 which even the meanest slaves have insured to them." 
 
 It is difficult to see how the appointment of such a 
 committee of inspection, constituted as was proposed, 
 of an equal number of Roman Catholics and Protest- 
 ants, could be regarded by intelligent laymen as in it- 
 self so dreadful, and worthy of reprobation. But, on 
 
INSPECTION OF CONVENTS. 281 
 
 the other hand, it is more easy to perceive the motive 
 which may have actuated the priesthood of Rome in 
 making every imaginable effort to defeat the project. 
 
 The proposed measure involved no infringement of 
 the privilege of assuming religious vows, or living in 
 rcHaious communities. "If," as an able writer has 
 well said, " ladies choose to dress themselves in a mo- 
 nastic fashion — black, white, and gray — with rosaries 
 and crucifixes, it may all seem to us extremely silly, 
 but we have no right to interfere, and any interference 
 would be an infringement of their civil and religious 
 rio^its. If ladies choose to live in lonely houses, with 
 ladies like themselves, and altogether secluded from 
 men, it may be a self-inflicted penance, very foolish in 
 
 our eyes, but we have no right to interfere 
 
 But if it be found that young girls of sixteen years of 
 
 age are entrapped into these establishments before they 
 
 are capable of forming a judgment upon the importance 
 
 of such a step ; if young persons are allured into these 
 
 establishments with the view of obtaining power over 
 
 every right and property to w^hich they may afterward 
 
 become entitled, and then are not permitted to leave 
 
 them when they desire to depart from them ; and when 
 
 they change their religious opinions, and desire to 
 
 withdraw, are not permitted to withdraw ; then, I say, 
 
 we are justified in interfering, not, indeed, interfering 
 
 against ladies, but interfering in order that those ladies 
 
 may enjoy the free exercise of their civil and religious 
 
 liberties. And in asking that nunneries be subjected 
 
 to visitation on the part either of her majesty's justices 
 
 of the peace, or on the part of Royal Commissioners 
 
 appointed for the occasion, all we ask is that there 
 
282 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 may be secured to every person in these establisli- 
 ments free ingress and free egress ; in other words, 
 that they shall enjoy, iii their full extent, their civil 
 liberty and their religious freedom,'''' 
 
 II. UNWILLINa NUNS. 
 
 But would Protestant readers know by what strong 
 arguments and illustrations the opponents of this pro- 
 posed examination vindicate the restraint of the con- 
 vent ? Let them hear the language of " The Catholic 
 Institute" of Great Britain, in a pamphlet issued on 
 this subject. 
 
 " Under our free government, are we not ourselves 
 living in perpetual restraint ? Is not our liberty cur- 
 tailed and limited by many prohibitions and laws? 
 Are not our soldiers hound by an irrevocable engage- 
 ment as soon as they ai^e enlisted, by which single act — 
 almost always done from want, or in a frolic, or in a 
 state of intoxication — are they not subject to a disci- 
 pline a thousand times more severe than that of the 
 most rigid religious orders ? Are they not, in truth, 
 merely passive instruments in the hands of their com- 
 manding officers ? Are not their diet, their sleep, their 
 dress, even their motions, under continual restrictions ? 
 -WiUing or unwilling, are they not doomed to go wher- 
 ever they are sent, even to the extremities of the world, 
 and to the most unwholesome climates, to fight the bat- 
 tles of their country, with scarcely a hope of seeing their 
 friends again in their native land ? Is not marriage 
 among us subject to restrictive laws ? When con- 
 tracted as the law directs, is it not indissoluble ? And 
 is not the unfortunate young person who has been sac- 
 
UNWILLING NUNS. 283 
 
 rificed to the avarice and ambition of lier unnatural 
 parents, or lias been the melancholy victim of her own 
 blindness, condemned to pass her days beneath the 
 yoke which she can never more shake off? To bring 
 the question nearer home — by the sole fact of our be- 
 ino- born in England, are we not deprived of what ap- 
 pears to be an essential part of liberty, the liberty of 
 disposing of ourselves as we think best, and of choos- 
 ing the climate and the form of government wdiich we 
 judge to be the most conducive to our happiness? 
 From the single fact, in which we never concurred in 
 the beginning, nor which we ever subsequently ap- 
 proved of, have we not contracted with our native 
 country an engagement so irrevocable that it can never 
 be dissolved by any act of our own ?'"* 
 
 We need add nothing to this line ot argument. 
 Monastic imprisonment is justifiable, in the view of its 
 own advocates, by the same pretext as the enlistment 
 of soldiers under a drunken oath, or the miserable 
 bondage of a wife " sacrificed to the avarice and ambi- 
 tion of unnatural parents.'' The condition of the nun 
 is and ought to be as hopeless, as wretched, as despe- 
 rate as these. 
 
 There are, then, tmwilling nuns ; this is acknowl- 
 edged, as indeed it were useless to deny it ; and their 
 confinement, in opposition to their own choice and de- 
 sire, is justified. A^'ay, as we have seen, this unwill- 
 ingness is considered something so frequent and so 
 much to be expected, that, in the books furnished and 
 approved for the special edification of the sisters, there 
 
 ♦ "Nuns and Monastic Institutes," a tract "published under the 
 superintendence of the Catholic Institute of Great Britain." 
 
284 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 are express exhortations addressed to persons in this 
 predicament. We have akeady cited some of these 
 passages. The great Saint Alphonsiis Liguori pleads 
 very tenderly with these poor wretches of nuns who 
 are imprisoned against their will. He urges them to 
 " MAKE A VIRTUE OF NECESSITY." " Grant," he adds, 
 condescending to argue with the unfortunate defense- 
 less one, " gTant that what you state is true ; now 
 that you are professed in a convent, and that it is im- 
 possible FOR YOU TO LEAVE IT, tell me, what do you 
 wish to do ? If you have entered religion against 
 your inclination, you must now remain w^ith cheerful- 
 ness. If you abandon yourself to melancholy, you 
 must lead a life of misery, and will expose yourself to 
 great danger of suifering a hell here and another here- 
 after. You tnust, then, make a virtue of necessity.^''* 
 Well may an eloquent writer exclaim, "To what 
 paltry shifts and quibbles will not Roman Catholic 
 writers resort to disguise the cruelty of this practice ! 
 Nuns are described as superhuman beings, as angels 
 on earth, without a thought or wish beyond the walls 
 of their convents. The effects of habit, of religious 
 fear, of decorum, which prevented many of the French 
 nuns from casting off the veil at a period when the 
 Revolutionary storm had struck awe into every breast, 
 are construed into a proof of the unvariableness of 
 purpose which follows the religious profession. Are 
 nuns, indeed, so invariably happy ? Why, then, are 
 they insulted hy their spiritual rulers by keeping them 
 
 * The True Spouse of Jesus Christ, or, the Nun Sanctified by the 
 Virtues of her State. Translated from the Italian by a Catholic Cler- 
 gyman. 8vo. Dublin : Duffy, 1848, p. 551. 
 
UNWILLING NUNS. 285 
 
 under the very guards and precautions which magis- 
 trates employ to secure external good behavior among 
 the femcde inmates of pHsons and penitentiaries f 
 Would the nuns continue during their lives under the 
 same privations were they at liberty to resume the 
 laical state ? TF/^y, then^ are they hound fast icith 
 auful votes ? Why are they not allowed to offer up, 
 day by day, the free-will offering of their souls and 
 bodies ? 
 
 " The reluctant nuns, you say, 2,x^feiD. Vain, un- 
 feeling sophistry ! First prove that vows are recom- 
 mended on divine authority ; that Christ has author- 
 ized the use of force and compulsion to ratify them 
 when they are made, and then you may stop your ears 
 against the complaints of a feio sufferers. But can 
 millions of submissive, or even willing recluses, atone 
 for the despair of those feio f You reckon in indefi- 
 nite numbers those that in France did not avail them- 
 selves of the Revolutionary laws. You should rather 
 inquire how many who, before the Revolution, appear- 
 ed perfectly contented in their cloistral slavery, over- 
 came their religious fear, and fled to the arms of a hus- 
 band as soon as they could do it with impunity. Two 
 hundred and ten nuns vjere secularized in Spain dur- 
 ing the short-lived reign of the Cortes. Were these 
 helpless beings happy in their former durance ? What 
 an appalling number of less fortunate victims might 
 not be made out by averaging in the same proportion 
 the millions of females who, since the establishment 
 of convents, have surrendered their liberty into the 
 hands of Rome!"* 
 
 * Blanco White's " Practical and Internal Evidence against Catho- 
 
286 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 III. COERCION THE LAW OP THE CONVENT. 
 
 To satisfy himself that restraint is contemplated by 
 the monastic system, let the reader turn for a moment 
 to the ritual for the assumption of the veil in convents, 
 and examine the tenor of the curse there pronounced. 
 
 " By the authority of Almighty God and his holy 
 apostles Peter and Paul, we solemnly forbid, under 
 pain of anathema, that any one draw away these pres- 
 ent virgins, or holy nuns, from the divine service to 
 which they have devoted themselves under the banner 
 of chastity ; or that any one purloin their goods, or 
 hinder their possessing them unmolested ; but if any 
 one shall dare to attempt such a thing, let him be ac- 
 cursed at home and abroad ; accursed in the city and 
 in the field ; accursed in waking and sleeping ; ac- 
 cursed in eating and drinking; accursed in walking 
 and sitting ; cursed in his flesh and his bones ; and 
 from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head let 
 him have no soundness. Come upon him the male- 
 diction which, by Closes in the Law, the Lord hath 
 laid on the sons of iniquity. Be his name blotted out 
 from the book of the living, and not be written with 
 the righteous. His portion and inheritance be with 
 Cain the fratricide, with Dathan and Abiram, with An- 
 anias and Sapphira, with Simon the sorcerer, and with 
 
 licism." 1826, p. 138. Of this writer, who had been a Roman Cath- 
 olic priest for many years, Dr. Newman, the distinguished pervert from 
 Oxford, says, while dissenting strongly from Mr. White's opinions, 
 " I have the fullest confidence in his word when he witnesses to facts, 
 and facts which he knew." He describes him as a person "whose 
 honor you may depend on ;" " a man you can trust." — Lectures on 
 the Present Condition of Cathohcs in England. London, 1851. 
 
COERCION THE LAW OF THE CONVENT. 287 
 
 Judas the traitor, and with those who have said to 
 God, ' Depart from us, we desire not the knowledge 
 of thy ways.' Let him perish in the day of judgment, 
 and let everlasting fire devour him, with the devil and 
 his angels, unless he make restitution and come to 
 amendment. Fiat. Fiat. So be it. So be it." 
 
 This is not the voice of the Christian minister, gen- 
 tly encouraging a devout soul to engage upon a course 
 of willing obedience, to be spontaneously and joyfully 
 persevered in unto the end. It imposes on tlie con- 
 science an awful weight from the outset. It is design- 
 ed to remain a fearful monument of that one act by 
 which, in the truthful language of the Roman Catholic 
 tract we have ah-eady quoted, the poor nun is "bound," 
 like the miserable recruit, "by an in-evocable engage- 
 ment." 
 
 And if, in subsequent years, at the thought of 
 friends, and family, and home ; tired of the dull, 
 weary monotony of the cloister, or, it may be, sick 
 at heart of the priestcraft, the superstition, the vice, 
 which may be secretly practiced within the convent 
 walls ; or, perhaps, having changed her religious sen- 
 timents, she wishes for the free light of the Gospel of 
 Christ, yet, the moment she thinks of these things, 
 the awful malediction, as a ghastly spectre, rises be- 
 fore her, 
 
 '.' Let her perish in the day of judgment, and let 
 everlasting fire devour her, with the devil and his an- 
 gels." 
 
 Or if her father, in after years, desires to bring back 
 his long-lost daughter to his bosom ; or if her mother 
 should sigh over the dangers which she has learned 
 
288 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 are rife within the cloisters ; or if lier brother, brave 
 and generous, makes an effort to secure the freedom of 
 his sister, then the vision of the prelate stands before 
 him, with crosier and mitre, and proclaims the sen- 
 tence, 
 
 "Let him perish in the day of judgment, and let 
 everlasting fire devour him, with the devil and his an- 
 gels." 
 
 Nay, were tlie chief justice of our commonwealth to 
 issue the writ of habeas corpus to bring this young 
 recluse into court before him, or were a committee of 
 inspection appointed by our judiciary to visit the es- 
 tablishment, and invite the prisoner, if such be her 
 choice, to go forth free, the sentence falls upon their 
 heads, 
 
 " Let them perish in the day of judgment, and let 
 everlasting fire devour them, with the devil and his 
 angels."* 
 
 But while the Church, in this imposing service, lays 
 upon the mind of her captive, and on the minds of 
 those who might be induced to procure her freedom, 
 the most forcible restraint that fear and terror can cre- 
 ate, it is no less evident that the practical measures 
 taken for the continuance of this captivity are equally 
 strong to confine and imprison the body. The Coun- 
 cil of Trent enjoins all bishops to enforce the close con- 
 finement of nuns by every means, and even to engage 
 the assistance of the secular arm for that purpose ; en- 
 treats all princes to protect the inclosure of the con- 
 vents ; and threatens w4th instant excommunication 
 all civil magistrates who w^ithhold their aid when the 
 * Reverend M. H. Seymour. 
 
COERCION THE LAW OF THE CONVENT. 289 
 
 bishops call for it. " Let no professed nun," say the 
 fathers of the Council of Trent, " come out of her mon- 
 astery under any pretext whatever, not even for a mo- 
 ment." " If any of the regulars [men and women un- 
 der perpetual vows] pretend that fear or force com- 
 pelled them to enter the cloister, or that the profes- 
 sion took place before the appointed age, let them not 
 be heard, except within five years of their profession. 
 But if they put otf the frock of their own accord, no 
 allegation of such should be heard, but, being com- 
 pelled to return to the convent, they must be pun- 
 ished AS APOSTATES, being, in the mean time, de- 
 prived of all the privileges of their order." 
 
 Such is the law of the Church of Rome concerning 
 all who have fled from the walls of religious houses. 
 It applies fully to every one of those who, in our own 
 day and in our own land, have succeeded in making 
 their escape ; and if the institutions and the public 
 opinion of this country alloAved it, that law would be 
 seen to be pubUcly carried out to the letter among us, 
 as undoubtedly it has been secretly within the pre- 
 cincts of those establishments which, in the midst of 
 our boasted freedom, constitute small despotisms of 
 the deepest oppression. 
 
 In view, therefore, of the fact that by the very tes- 
 timony of the Roman Catholic Church herself, in her 
 popular publications, in her pubhc rites, and in her au- 
 thorized standards of doctrine and discipline, an actu- 
 al restraint is and must be imposed upon the inmates 
 of monastic establishments ; and in view of the con- 
 ceded fact that there are some, if not many, who are 
 thus unwilHngly confined, wc urge the enactment of 
 
290 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 some provision to extend the territory of our American 
 freedom over these institutions ; to apply the precious 
 principles of liberty of thought^ speech, and person to 
 these unhappy "beings ; to proclaim to the reluctant 
 though submissive bondwoman of the convent, if there 
 be but one such in our land, " There is no law to keep 
 you here ; you are free to stay or to go forth ; make 
 your choice without fear of man ; remain, if so you 
 will, but be assured that you need do so no longer 
 than your own fi*ee purpose shall last." 
 
 A few farther considerations will be noticed, how- 
 ever, before we reach the full examination of this point. 
 
 IV. FACILITIES OF COMMUNICATION. 
 
 It has been urged that a sujSScient method of redress 
 for the occasional instances of unwillingness that we 
 have here referred to, is provided by the system, in the 
 free access of parents and relatives to communication 
 with the nun. Such is the argument of the Mother 
 Superior of St. Joseph's in her letter respecting the 
 author of this narrative. Such is the favorite strain 
 of all who attempt to set aside the proofs of oppression 
 and restraint furnished by numerous witnesses. Our 
 nuns and sisters, they say, have fathers and mothers, 
 brothers and friends, who may at any time visit them 
 freely, and can surely be relied upon to ascertain the 
 true state of their feelings, and to procure their de- 
 parture should they themselves desire to leave. 
 
 What, then, is the fact respecting this facility of 
 intercourse? What opportunities have the members 
 of the convent or the sisterhood to acquaint their 
 friends with their views and wkhes? Every one 
 
FACILITIES OF COIklMUNICATION. 291 
 
 knows how it is. The interview, when allowed at all, 
 takes place at an iron grating, where the nun stands 
 like a prisoner behind bars, which present an impass- 
 able barrier. These interviews generally, if not in- 
 variably, take place in the presence of a third person — 
 a nun appointed for the purpose. The sister, taught, 
 as we shall see, to regard these interviews as danger- 
 ous to her spiritual safety, and carefully instructed to 
 avoid all demonstrations of attachment to her former 
 state, and desire to return to the world, and required 
 to express an entire contentment and satisfaction with 
 the "religious" life, can not be supposed to exercise 
 a reasonable choice in the matter, or to make known 
 her interior sentiments under this fourfold restraint 
 of spiritual fear, mechanical obedience, the conscious- 
 ness of being watched, and an actual prevention of free 
 converse by means of the iron barriers that separate 
 her from her friends. But remember that the nun is 
 bound to be in a condition of abject submission to her 
 Superior's will ; that this is the very essence of that 
 sanctity to which she is taught to aspire, an entire 
 sacrifice of moral independence. The idea, that with 
 such discipline and such habits, to say nothing of the 
 dread of penance, whether it consist in flogging,* solita- 
 
 * Under the less harsh name oi^ discipline or flagellation. " This is 
 a species of mortification," says St. Alphonsus Liguori, who died only 
 seventy years ago, " strongly recommended by Francis de Sales, and 
 universally adopted in religious communities of both sexes. All the 
 modern saints, without a single exception, have continually practiced 
 this sort of penance. It is related of St. Lewis of Gonzaga that he 
 often scourged himself unto blood three times in the day ; and at the 
 point of death, not having sufficient strength to use the lash, he be- 
 sought the provincial to have him disciplined from head to foot. Sure- 
 ly, then, it would not be too much for you to take the discipline once in 
 
292 
 
 Yj confinement, or irksome duties, as a determent from 
 infraction of the commands given her, is simply absurd. 
 
 "What progress," asks St. Alphonsus Liguori, "can 
 be expected from the religious who wishes to have her 
 relations near the convent ; who, if she do not see them, 
 is constantly sending letters and messages to request 
 a visit from them ; and who, if they yield not to her 
 entreaties, is disturbed, and complains by frequent let- 
 ters of their absence and neglect ? It is impossible 
 for a nun of this description ever to obtain a close 
 union Avith God. ' "Whoever, ' says St. Gregory, ' wish- 
 es to be truly united to the Father of all, must be sep- 
 arated from relations.' " 
 
 " The nun who leaves her relations in effect and in 
 affection^ shall obtain eternal beatitude in heaven and 
 a hundred-fold on earth ; she will leave a few, and 
 shall find many sisters in religion ; she will abandon 
 a father and a mother, and in return shall have God 
 for her Father, and ]^Iary for her mother. 
 
 "Hence, convinced that detachment from kindred 
 is highly pleasing to God, the saints have sought to 
 be wholly^ removed from their relatives. ' For my 
 part,' says St. Teresa, ' I can not conceive what con- 
 solation a nun can find in her relatives. By attach- 
 ment to them she displeases God, and, without being 
 able to enjoy their amusements, she shares in all their 
 troubles.' 
 
 "How applicable to you, O blessed sister ! is this 
 
 reflection of the saint ! Oh I what an excess of 
 
 folly to imagine that you can not be happy without 
 
 the day, or at least three or four times in the week!" — The True 
 Spouse of Christ, etc., p. 181. 
 
FACILITIES OF COMMUNICATION. 293 
 
 frequently seeing your friends ! Ah ! if yoio heej) aloof 
 from them, what torrents of consolation and happi- 
 ness would your spouse, Jesus, infuse into your soul ! 
 St. ]\Iary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say that an ah- 
 horrence of the grates should be the principal fruit of 
 the communion of religious. And as an evil spirit 
 once said to the venerable sister, ]\Iary Villain, there 
 is certainly no place where the devil does so much in- 
 jury to religious as in the parlor.* Hence St. Mary 
 Magdalene de Pazzi would not even pass through it ; 
 and such was her hatred of it that she could not even 
 bear to hear it mentioned. Whenever she was obhged 
 to go to the parlor, she would begin to weep, and 
 say to her novices, ' ]\Iy dear children, pray to God 
 for me, for I am called to the grate.' 
 
 "But you will say, 'What am I to do? Am I 
 never to see my friends ? When they visit me, must 
 I send them away, and refuse to go to the grate V I 
 do not require so much from you; but if you refused 
 to see them, looulcl you do tvro?ig — would you do what 
 would be inconvenient, or what is never done by re- 
 ligious ?" 
 
 But another injunction is given by the same teach- 
 er in reference to intercourse with relations at the grate, 
 and we have reason to beheve that the rule is dwelt 
 upon with much urgency in the instruction of nuns: 
 "Be careful not to make known to externs the m- 
 ternal concerns of the convent, and particularly ivhat 
 may tend to the discredit of the Superior or the sis- 
 ters.^' 
 
 "Ah!" continues the saint, "what rapid progress 
 * Parlatorium, the room where the grate is. 
 
294 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 in divine love does the religious make who resolves 
 NEVER to go to the grate. When you, O blessed sis- 
 ter ! go to the parlor, be careful at least to conduct 
 yourself like a religious. In your intercourse with 
 seculars, you should not only guard with great care 
 against all affectionate exjpressions^ but should also be 
 very grave and reserved in the parlor. St. Mary Mag- 
 dalene de Pazzi wished her nuns to be as uncultivated 
 as the wild deer — these are her very words. And the 
 venerable sister Hyacinth IMarescotti used to say, ' The 
 courtesy of nuns consists in being discourteous, by cut- 
 ting short all discourses in the parlor.' "* 
 
 So much for the reliance to be placed upon the fa- 
 cilities of intercourse between the " religious" and her 
 relations as a means of redress or escape from restraint. 
 The author of the present narrative has stated how she 
 herself w^as directed and compelled to mislead her 
 friends as to her true sentiments, and to disguise from 
 them all dissatisfaction with her position at the insti- 
 tution. 
 
 V. DESPOTISM OF THE CONVENT. 
 
 There is another consideration, bearing, as we be- 
 lieve, with no slight force upon the propriety of legis- 
 lative action with reference to convents and other es- 
 tablishments of like order. We refer to the extent of 
 power irresponsibly lodged in the hands of the supe- 
 riors of those institutions, and wielded by them with 
 absolute sway over the moral and physical condition 
 of individuals completely abstracted from domestic and 
 legal protection. 
 
 * "The True Spouse," etc, p. 361-366. 
 
DESPOTISM OF 'THE CONVENT. 295 
 
 In these United States — for it is of tliem alone that 
 we at present speak — all women of sound mind born 
 free, who have reached the age of discretion, and have 
 not forfeited by crime their civil rights, are supposed 
 to live under the shelter of laws, and to possess privi- 
 leges of personal self-control. Besides the guardian- 
 ship of natural protectors — their fathers, husbands, 
 and brothers, who are generally those most interest- 
 ed in their well-being — they can at any time invoke 
 the interference of justice, and claim its covenanted 
 defense. Surrounded by relatives, neighbors, and 
 friends, to whom they can instantly appeal against 
 even the possible abuse of authority at home, they 
 are seldom exposed to restraint, hardship, or maltreat- 
 ment for any continued period. Whatever the obli- 
 gations of domestic regard, it is not understood that 
 these involve the relinquishment of personal will with- 
 in reasonable and lawful bounds. This fact, however, 
 is not of universal application ; for while, as a rule, 
 such freedom exists and is guaranteed by law to all 
 American women, there is an exception most signifi- 
 cant and remarkable. AYe have in the United States 
 a considerable number of institutions, containing many 
 hundreds of females, who are under absolute and des- 
 potic control. These establishments are conducted 
 by persons exercising an assumed authority not com- 
 mitted to them by the civil power, but lying beyond 
 its cognizance, dispensing with its sanction, and ac- 
 knowledging no accountability to its courts. They 
 come not under the head of asylums, penitentiaries, or 
 prisons. For those there are particular provisions in 
 our codes ; they arc open to official inspection and 
 
296 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 governed by official appointment, but sucli is not the 
 case here. The subjects of this discipHne, though not 
 culprits or criminals, are adjudged to close seclusion 
 and loss of natural immunities ; like them, they are 
 immured for life or for a stated term, within buildings 
 surrounded by high walls, beyond which they can not 
 proceed without permission ; like them, they are un- 
 der control of superiors, who govern all their actions, 
 though undesignated and unrecognized for such pur- 
 pose by the state. They are not looked upon as ap- 
 prentices or persons held to service according to any 
 knowm law of the land, yet they are bound by solemn 
 vows and obligations to absolute obedience and aban- 
 donment of choice and volition, without hesitancy or 
 reflection. For all the benefit they derive from the 
 liberal institutions of our country, they might as well 
 be situated under the despotisms of the Old World, 
 or in a condition of avowed bondage. 
 
 There is, then, it can scarcely be denied, some 
 ground for the inquiry, What are these establish- 
 ments, that they should exist among us outside of all 
 civil jurisdiction ? What are these nunneries and re- 
 ligious houses, that the daughters of freemen should be 
 pent up within them like outcasts from society and 
 convicts of justice, yet unknown as such to the judges 
 of our courts and the legislators of our states ? What 
 is there so mysterious within those precincts that there 
 the domain of freedom does not extend, that there the 
 light of publicity can not enter, that from thence the 
 voice of appeal to justice can not be heard ? What 
 are these nunneries ? Are they institutions recognized 
 and authorized for the public good by the government 
 
DESPOTISM OF THE CONVENT. 297 
 
 of our land ? Why, then, are they closed to an inspec- 
 tion that may insure against maladministration ? why 
 is not their condition reported to the public for approv- 
 al or censure ? Or are they establishments of a strict- 
 ly private character, such as our schools and associa- 
 tions of benevolence ? Then wherefore should they 
 arrogate to themselves over adults of sound mind, 
 guiltless of crime, a control of will and action utterly 
 incompatible witli the enjoyment of civil freedom ? 
 
 Until, as we apprehend will not soon be the case, 
 there shall be enacted by our Legislatures some spe- 
 cial provision for the existence of institutions where 
 persons of free birth, good fame, and mental sanity 
 may lawfully be confined, restricted in their personal 
 freedom, and subjected to absolute government of will 
 or physical coercion, however they may have been per- 
 suaded to consent at the outset to such a course of dis- 
 cipline—until, we say, some such law shall be added to 
 our codes, the monastic system will continue to be as 
 it is now, illegal. There is at present nothing in our 
 laws to warrant that system. There is nothing that 
 gives to any individual, whether priest or layman, the- 
 privilege of exacting the bounden service of an Ameri- 
 can woman under vow of absolute obedience. There 
 is nothing there that entitles any person, whether Ab- 
 bot or Lady Superior, to deprive women of liberty and 
 restrain them from exit. There is nothing that pro- 
 vides even for such a voluntary act of disfranchise- 
 ment as would be involved in the complete sacrifice 
 of will requu-ed by the rules of the convent. That 
 system is not only opposed to the spirit of republican 
 freedom, it is unknown to our civil polity, and clear- 
 N2 
 
298 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ly hostile to every principle of justice and right that 
 belongs to our age. 
 
 It can not even be urged for the system of monas- 
 tic discipline that it should find countenance in a 
 country where domestic servitude is recognized and 
 made legal. It may not be compared for a moment 
 with that institution. There is no part of our land 
 where laws do not exist for the security of the slave in 
 the enjoyment of life and good treatment. There is 
 no state of this Union where the complete exercise of 
 control over life, health, and virtue is vested in a sin- 
 gle individual so absolutely and without the shadow 
 of responsibility as in the case of the superiors of con- 
 vents. 
 
 The advocates of these religious penitentiaries tell 
 us, for the quieting of all apprehension in the matter, 
 that tlie objects of this discipline are most pure and 
 commendable, that their regulations are such as every 
 one would approve, that the sanctity of its design in- 
 sures the excellence of the system. Such is the ar- 
 gument of Mother Etienne, the Superior of St. Jo- 
 seph's, and a curious one it is. If such a line of de- 
 fense could be set up in all such cases, there would be 
 few criminals found worthy of sentence. Grant that 
 the regulations of a society may be admirable in all 
 respects : does that fact secure their perfect execution ? 
 Does it do away with the necessity for any check upon 
 abuse and injustice under the system so wisely drawn 
 up on paper ? Where is the judge of its actual agree- 
 ment with these avowed regulations ? Where is the 
 court of appeal for any complaint ? What opportunity 
 of redress for particular grievances ? The bishop or 
 
INSTANCES OF ESCAPE. 299 
 
 the Pope, doubtless ; and whenever, thanks to the se- 
 cret workings of Jesuits, clerical and lay, our people 
 shall be prepared to establish the canon law of Kome 
 in this country, then it will be time to acknowledge 
 the sufficiency of such a plea. 
 
 VI. INSTANCES OF ESCAPE. 
 
 Where absolute and arbitrary power resides in any 
 fallible being, the chances of its abuse are unquestion- 
 ably great. Where restraint is imposed upon the free- 
 dom of a considerable number of persons, it is quite 
 probable that some, however willing at the outset to 
 submit, may finally become weary of their bondage, 
 and desire release. We have already adduced repeat- 
 ed acknowledgments from Roman Catholic authorities 
 to the effect that there are cases of reluctant and con- 
 strained submission. We have only now to instance 
 some few out of a great number of such, where this 
 oppression has been felt to exceed endurance, and the 
 desperate victim of the cloister has been driven to in- 
 sanity, or to the hazards of an attempt at escape. 
 
 A single fact of this nature might, to an impartial 
 judgment, prove the existence of those evils which we 
 have been delineating. But these occurrences have 
 been irequent and notorious. How many similar at- 
 tempts may have been thwarted and concealed from 
 public knowledge by the vigilance of those interested 
 in their suppression, we can only estimate from the 
 frequency of such as have proved successful. 
 
 On the 18th of August, 1839, a nun by the name 
 of Olivia Neal, formerly of Charles county, Maryland, 
 but who had been for nineteen years a prisoner, under 
 
300 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tlie appellation of " Sister Isabella," at the Carmelite 
 nunnery in Aisquith Street, Baltimore, succeeded in 
 escaping from that institution. After being repulsed 
 by several families, she was received and protected by 
 a worthy citizen living a few doors from the convent. 
 Efforts were immediately made by the confessor of 
 the convent and others to have access to the fugitive 
 and convey her back. The rumor of this fact having 
 spread in the city, an immense crowd gathered around 
 the house, and signified their determination to prevent 
 the abduction. The mayor and other gentlemen hav- 
 ing come to the spot, she was taken to a place of 
 safety. 
 
 This nun stated to all who questioned her that she 
 had entered the convent at a very early age ; that she 
 liad long desired to escape ; that on one occasion be- 
 fore she had gotten out, and was met and carried back 
 by the priest. She demanded, in a most earnest and 
 touching manner, the protection of the people. 
 
 The assertion was at once made by the authorities 
 of the convent that Olivia Neal, or " Sister Isabella," 
 was out of her right mind. This plea is invariably 
 set up in similar cases. A physician was induced to 
 state that she was a "perfect maniac;" and five oth- 
 ers united in the conflicting statement that she was a 
 ^^monomaniac^^'' OY at least afflicted with a ^^ general 
 feebleness of intellect.'''' Hundreds, however, of the 
 most respectable citizens of Baltimore concurred in 
 declaring that Miss Neal gave every indication of san- 
 ity, correct judgment, and resolute will. 
 
 The Eeverend Robert J. Breckinridge, D.D., a dis- 
 tinguished and most estimable clergyman of the Pres^ 
 
INSTANCES OF ESCAPE. 301 
 
 Ibjtciian Cliurcli, was at that time a resident of Balti- 
 more, and was requested to have an interview with 
 this escaped nun. He thus relates it : " zVs we en- 
 tered the room, he [a friend] said to her, ' This is Mr. 
 B.,' naming us. Her reply went to our heart. She 
 extended her hands toward us, and, repeating our 
 name, said, almost convulsively, ' I claim your protec- 
 tion r We told her we had come to her for no other 
 purpose. 
 
 " A rapid conversation, in which several took part, 
 immediately ensued, from which Ave learned, in sub- 
 stance, that her name was Olivia Neal, originally from 
 Charles county, Maryland, but now called ' Sister Is- 
 abella ;' that she had been put into the convent very 
 young, and been in it nineteen years ; that she had 
 been lo?igf anxiously trying to get out, and had once 
 succeeded in making her escape into the street, w^hen 
 she was met 2indi forcibly carried back, and subjected 
 to severe penances ; that, having again escaped, her 
 anxious desire was for present protection — a desire 
 she repeatedly expressed ; that, however, she wished 
 all to understand that she did not desire to change her 
 religion, but only her condition as cc mm ; that she 
 did not wish any violence offered either to the nuns or 
 priests on her account, against wdiom, indeed, she was 
 not disposed to make any accusations ; that she felt 
 agitated," and unfit for any extended conversation on 
 the subject of her past trials, and asked only for secur- 
 ity, repose, and tranquillity, till she could collect her 
 faculties and decide on her future line of conduct, 
 which was the more necessary, she said, as they hcid 
 told her that her mind iims weah ; and that, having 
 
302 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 no friends in whom she could confide, she was obliged 
 to throw herself on the public for protection. 
 
 " Much more was said, which we do not think it 
 worth while to repeat at present ; but, as a sample of 
 the general style of conversation, we will detail one 
 item more minutely. Slue was asked if a nun had not 
 escaped some months ago. ' Yes ; it was I,' was her 
 reply. ' How happens it that you were back again V 
 ' I was met by a gentleman immediately after getting 
 out, and carried back.' 'Who was that gentleman?' 
 Ko answer. 'Was it priest Gildea ?' 'Yes, sir.' 
 ' What was done to you when you were carried back?' 
 ' There are penances to undergo ; I was subjected to 
 these.' 'Did they whip you?' No answer, but a 
 mournful smile. ' Did they imprison you ?' ' I have 
 said I endured the usual penance.' She was not press- 
 ed farther on this painful subject, being evidently un- 
 willing to speak fully of it."* 
 
 The sequel to this sad story of oppression and suf- 
 fering exhibits the triumph of Romish intrigue over 
 the natural and legal rights of a feeble woman. A 
 distant relative was found who was willing to serve 
 the purposes of priestly craft. He came to Baltimore, 
 obtained ex parte certificates contradictory of each 
 other, insufficient in law or reason, none of which were 
 sworn to, and no cross examination permitted ; on 
 which certificates he took his kinswoman and placed 
 her precisely where she had most earnestly desired 
 never to go again — under the power of the nuns and 
 priests.f Nothing more has been heard of her for 
 
 * Papism in the United States. By Robert J, Breckinridge, D.D., 
 p. 235-245.- . t Papism, etc., p. 265. 
 
INSTANCES OF ESCAPE. 803 
 
 years. ]Miss Bunkley, in the preceding narrative, men- 
 tions having seen in the asylum at jMount Hope a per- 
 son who, as she had reason to believe, was the unhap- 
 py " Sister Isabella." 
 
 The author of this volume has also specified several 
 instances of attempted escape from the institution of 
 St. Joseph at Emmettsburg. That of Helen Grier is 
 authenticated by unimpeachable witnesses. 
 
 Facts like the folloAving have frequently met the 
 eyes of our readers in the public journals : 
 
 "On the night of the 18th of April, 1842, as a pa- 
 trol was going along the narrow street which runs by 
 the side of the convent of the Bon Pasteur, in the 
 town of Ouest, in France, he found a girl lying on the 
 pavement, and screaming from the injury she had re- 
 ceived by a fall in attempting to escape from the con- 
 vent through one of the upper windows by means of 
 a sheet. On being taken to the hospital, it was found 
 that her leg was broken. When able to speak, she 
 said that, on account of a trifling disagreement with 
 some of the nuns, she was put into solitary confine- 
 ment, and allowed only bread and water. Driven to 
 despair, she had contrived to force away the planks 
 by which the window was blinded, and attempted, in 
 the manner described, to reach the ground."* 
 
 "We have before us," says the writer upon whose 
 authority we have stated the above, "an octavo vol- 
 ume of four hundred pages, entitled ' Soeur ]\Iarie, Ben- 
 edictine,' published at Caen in 1846, written by an 
 eminent French advocate, ]\I. Leon Tillard. 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Monnier, whose name * in relig- 
 
 ■♦ * Nuns and Nunneries, p. 216. 
 
304 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ion' was Soeur Marie Joseph, entered a Benedictine 
 convent at Bayeux at the age of twenty-one, in 1823, 
 and, by her superior education and talents, she became 
 of great use to the convent. The other sisters were 
 ignorant and ilHterate, and the new postulant was at 
 once placed in charge of the school. Under her care 
 it greatly throve, and the number of pupils rapidly in- 
 creased. At length she assumed the veil. Several 
 changes took place in the convent, a new Lady Abbess 
 came, and poor Soeur Marie became the object of a 
 long-continued persecution, beginning with things so 
 small as hardly to be perceptible, but which, like the 
 dropping of water on the stone, wore upon the mind 
 of the wretched victim. She was removed from the 
 school, some nuns having joined the establishment 
 who were better educated than those originally there, 
 and, after some time, no one was allowed to speak to 
 her. This was continued year after year. At last 
 matters came to a crisis ; the Superior provoked Sis- 
 ter Marie, drew her into an altercation, and then de- 
 claring that she was inad, had her seized by the gar- 
 dener and others, and locked up in a small cell. The 
 physician of the convent was sent for, and, without 
 having seen the victim, signed a certificate declaring 
 her to be mad. In the dead of the night she was 
 roused from her cell, carried off in a carriage to the 
 Bon Sauveur at Bayeux, and there placed among the 
 insane on the strength of this certificate. The phy- 
 sician of this new asylum, however, soon found that 
 she was perfectly sane, and at length dismissed her at 
 her own earnest entreaty. But where was she to go ? 
 She returned to her old convent, but there they would 
 
LETTER FROM DR. DE SANCTIS. 305 
 
 not receive lier. She appealed to priests and bishops, 
 to nuns and abbesses, but every door was closed 
 against her except the mad-house of the Bon Sauveur. 
 M. Tillard generously took up her cause, and endeav- 
 ored to obtain justice for her. But all in vain. Worn 
 out, harassed, and persecuted, poor Soeur ]\Iarie at 
 length became duly qualified for the Bon Sauveur. 
 Her mind failed her, and she is now within its walls, 
 a harmless lunatic ! "* 
 
 In these facts, strikingly analogous to those con- 
 nected with the case of the unhappy Olivia N^eal, we 
 see more manifestly the design of the tyrannical and 
 merciless autocrat of the convent, working by inces- 
 sant annoyances the mental ruin of the object of her 
 hatred, until at length, successful in destroying the 
 power of thought and will, her victim is reduced to 
 the living death of a maniac. 
 
 VII. LETTER FROM DR. DE SANCTIS. 
 
 We have now to present some extracts from a let- 
 ter addressed to the editor of this work by the dis- 
 tinguished and excellent Dr. De Sanctis, who occu- 
 pied for many years the post of curate of the church 
 of the Maddalena at Rome, was " qualificator" of the 
 Inquisition, censor of the Theological Academy in the 
 Eoman University, and filled other prominent offices 
 of trust in the service of the Church of Home. He 
 was in this capacity commissioned by the Cardinal 
 Yicar to preach and hear confessions in the convents 
 of that city ; and during ten years and more, passed 
 scarcely a day in which he did not exercise these func- 
 
 * Nuns and Nunneries, p. 219-223. 
 
306 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 tions at some one or more of those institutions. Writ- 
 ten by one so competent to speak from personal ob- 
 servation upon the subject of monasticism, and so 
 worthy of trust as an able and faithful minister of the 
 Gospel since his conversion from Roman Catholic er- 
 ror, we are sure that these statements will coinmand 
 the attention of our readers. 
 
 THE CONVENT A PEISON OF DELUSIONS. 
 
 "The convents of Rome may be designated as 
 prisons — horrible prisons of religious delusion. This 
 statement will require some explanation. A young- 
 girl at Rome, who is to any degree interested in re- 
 ligion, if she receives her education at a convent, must 
 absolutely remain there forever, as I shall hereafter 
 explain ; or, if not so educated, must necessarily enter 
 a convent in the end. The Roman Catholic priest 
 knows nothing of conjugal love in its holy and chaste 
 character, and for this very reason he hates it, he de- 
 tests it, often with the utmost sincerity and perfect 
 good faith. The declamations of the priests, whether 
 from the pulpit or the confessional, against this love, 
 are of a nature to make one shudder. These men are 
 truly to be pitied : ignorant as they are of the pure, the 
 legitimate affection of the married state, and knowing 
 only of a sensual and bestial passion, they have reason 
 to declaim against such love. The young girl who 
 blindly follows the path of piety, blindly believes the 
 priest ; for want of experience, she can not distinguish 
 the innocent from the guilty affection ; and when she 
 feels the first impulses of that love which would lead 
 her to become a wife and a mother, she confesses to 
 
LETTER FROM DE. DE SANCTIS. 307 
 
 the priest as a grave offense those sentiments which 
 pertain to the normal state in which God has framed 
 her being. And the confessor, most generally from 
 ignorance, and with honest persuasion, augments this 
 uneasiness, declaring that this impulse is a tempta- 
 tion of the devil in order to eradicate the love of 
 Christ. He intimates that there is no better method 
 of overcoming such temptation than to fly from a world 
 which is but a troubled sea, and to withdraw into the 
 haven of security, to wit, the convent. And here he 
 commences to adduce before the kindled imagination 
 of his charge all those mystic incidents, examples, 
 histories, and revelations, of which the legendary lit- 
 erature of asceticism is full, thus inflaming the mind 
 of the young penitent, and convincing her that there 
 is no harbor of safety for her soul other than the state 
 of a recluse. All that she sees in the world without 
 becomes to her an object of aversion. The persons 
 most endeared by natural aflection — father, mother, 
 brothers — become odious, and she longs for the moment 
 when she may inclose herself within those sacred walls, 
 where alone she now hopes to find peace and salva- 
 tion. The world is represented to her as a wild and 
 corrupt stream, flowing with impetuous current before 
 her, while the convent, overlooking it, ofters the only 
 secure retreat. Her father, her brother, her sisters are 
 being carried away by the river ; for her there is safe- 
 ty only there. The dream lasts a while after she has 
 entered, and then it disappears ; tlie abode of peace is 
 transformed into a perpetual prison, where a life pays 
 for the religious delusion of a day. 
 
 "Many young girls are drawn to the convents in 
 
308 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 this manner, but there are others, and perhaps these 
 constitute a majority, who are attracted in a different 
 way. Many, to whom nature has denied those exter- 
 nal graces and charms which captivate the regard of 
 men, finding themselves neglected, and conscious of an 
 irresistible need of loving some object, seek to be loved, 
 as they say, by our Lord Jesus Christ. ' Tlie heart 
 of Jesus' is the chosen devotion of such. It is after 
 this fashion that the ' heart of Jesus' is represented at 
 Rome. Our Lord is depicted as a young man of mar- 
 velous beauty, who, with a heart shining with love, 
 seen transparent in his breast, invites with the most 
 winning look. The young girl who has not met with 
 a response in the regard of men, enthusiastically be- 
 gins to cherish an affection for this picture and object. 
 The priests know well how to encourage such a tend- 
 ency ; they place in her hands the lives of St. Teresa 
 and other visionaries, who relate their intercourse with 
 a heavenly spouse, and already she hopes that a like 
 experience will be hers. Another need that she feels 
 is that of making some human heart the depository 
 of her thoughts and emotions, and for want of a lover 
 she chooses as a confidant her confessor. With him 
 she spends whole hours of every day in secret collo- 
 quies^ and, supposing the confessor to be a saint, ac- 
 cording to the Romish idea, the unavoidable result of 
 all this is that she will go into a convent. The dream 
 after a while is scattered, and there remains the sad 
 reality of a perpetual prison as the fruit of a religious 
 delusion. 
 
 " There is a third class of young persons, who, be- 
 ing educated from childhood in the nunnery, remain 
 
LETTER FROM DR. DE SANCTIS. 309 
 
 there, and "become nuns without knowmg why, and 
 give up with alacrity a world which they have never 
 seen. By what arts and wiles they are drawn into 
 this course I shall relate elsewhere, when I come to 
 speak of the education given in convents. 
 
 MORALITY OF THE CONVENTS IN ROME. 
 
 " Such is, for the most part, the method by which 
 the convents of Rome are peopled. I must now say 
 a few words respecting the morality of those institu- 
 tions. 
 
 " That there have occurred some flagrant abuses of 
 this nature, and more especially in convents where 
 the education of the young is prosecuted, can not be 
 denied. Two fearful examples have taken place with- 
 in my own recollection, the general publicity of which 
 created a painful excitement. The one occurred at 
 the Convent of ' San Dionisio alle quattro Fontane,' 
 an establishment of nuns affiliated with the Jesuits, 
 in which the confessor pursued a most infamous course 
 in relation to a large number of young persons under 
 the care of that institution. The other case was that 
 of the ' Conservatorio della Divina Providenza,' where 
 the confessor seduced no fewer than sixteen of the 
 most beautiful persons educated in that convent. * * 
 * * As a general thing, however, the convent (so far 
 as Rome is concerned) is neither, on the one hand, a 
 terrestrial paradise inhabited by angels, nor, on the 
 other hand, is it generally a place of open and shame- 
 less crime. 
 
 "An event of no unfrequent occurrence in the con- 
 vent is the * spiritual assistance' of the sick. When 
 
310 MISS JBLNKLEir's BOOK. 
 
 a nun is dangerously ill, the confessor, director, or an- 
 other priest spends the night at the institution. Often 
 it will happen that, in a case of sickness, fifteen or six- 
 teen successive nights are thus spent. This has hap- 
 pened more than once to myself. In the convent there 
 are generally two well-furnished rooms for such a con- 
 tingency : the one is a small parlor, conveniently ar- 
 ranged, where the confessor eats ; the other a "bed-room, 
 where, also, nothing is omitted for his comfort. The 
 supper of the reverend father confessor is no ordinary 
 one ; it consists of all the niceties of food that are to 
 be procured. While the holy man is at his meal, sev- 
 eral nuns will be standing around him, urging him to 
 eat this and drink that. Supper over, the father goes 
 to see the patient, sprinkles her with holy water, and 
 then retires to his bed. The doors are left open, in 
 order that he may readily be called should the invalid 
 grow worse. I can not say that all precautions are 
 taken in such cases, nor that disorders fail to occur, 
 and that with sufficient frequency. I can only state 
 matters as I know them to exist. 
 
 "And here I may incidentally mention a fact that 
 will surprise the good Christian people of America, al- 
 though at Rome it appears quite natural. In Carnival,* 
 the inmates of all the convents are permitted the mas- 
 querade. The monks who act as confessors send their 
 habits to their respective nuns, who put them on, and 
 enact a thousand ridiculous scenes. Any one can un- 
 derstand the indecency, and, to speak more clearly, the 
 
 * A period of five or six days preceding Lent, during which, in Ro- 
 man Catholic countries, every species of merriment and buffoonery is 
 tolerated. 
 
LETTEK FKOM DK. DE SANCTIS. 311 
 
 immorality of such procedures ; but this is nothing : 
 on the contrary, it seems so natural that a nun who 
 should fail to join in these amusements would be re- 
 garded as over-scrupulous even by her cofifessor him- 
 self. In convents devoted to education, there are, be- 
 sides these, theatrical performances, and comedies are 
 recited. To these representations are admitted the 
 confessors, priests, monks, and the relatives of the 
 nuns and pupils. On such occasions you would see 
 some one of these, young guis ornamented with mus- 
 taches, declaiming the part of an officer, and dressed 
 in uniform, while another would take the character of 
 a lover, etc., etc. In convents where superior sancti- 
 ty is affected, profanations still greater are committed. 
 There are given dramatic entertainments called sacred, 
 and these are nothing less than Scripture facts set 
 forth in comedy. There you would see a young girl 
 assuming the part of Moses, another that of Aaron, 
 thus turning into ridicule those holy characters, and 
 casting contempt upon the word of God itself. I once 
 saw at one of these places a young person who repre- 
 sented an angel, while another filled the role of the 
 devil. Between them they concocted a dialogue so lu- 
 dicrous that every body was exploding with laughter. 
 
 HEALTH IN THE CONVENTS OF ROME. 
 
 " In order to make what I have to say respecting 
 these institutions more clear, let me divide them into 
 two classes : the one consisting of those where the in- 
 mates have no other occupation besides prayer, the 
 other in which they are employed in giving instruction 
 to the young. 
 
312 
 
 " With regard to the former class, we must again 
 distinguish those convents where the rigor of discipline 
 is carried to such an excess of fanaticism as to tread 
 under foot tlie most sacred laws of nature ; and here I 
 do not speak of individual excesses of fanaticism, but 
 of abuses belonging to the community itself, aj^proved 
 and sanctioned by the Superiors of the institution. 
 
 " There is at Home, in the ' E-egione de' Monti,' in 
 a spot almost unknown to the world, a convent enti- 
 tled that of the ' Vive Sejpolte^ (' hurled alive') ;* and 
 the miserable inmates are really in the condition ex- 
 pressed by their name. Once admitted within those 
 walls, it may be said of them, 
 
 " ' Leave hope behind, all ye who enter here.' 
 
 "They are indeed buried alive. They come to 
 confession, but a double grating, the one at a consid- 
 erable distance from the other, an iron plate punc- 
 tured with small holes between the confessor and the 
 penitent, through which the voice can scarcely pass, 
 and a black cloth fastened upon this plate to intercept 
 even the rays of light — su.ch is the mode in which the 
 confession takes place. When these nuns commune, 
 they present themselves at a small window, about half 
 the size of the countenance ; and there, with a thick 
 woolen cloth over the face, suffering only the tongue 
 to be seen, they receive the element from the hand of 
 the priest. In case of sickness, they are led into a 
 room called the infirmary, and there the physician pre- 
 scribes for his patient through an aperture in the wall. 
 If he wishes to feel the pulse or draw blood, the arm 
 
 * More properly, '■'■ Bdigiosc Franccscanc dcttc 'Vive Scpolte.^^^ 
 
LETTEli FllOM DR. DE SANCTIS. 313 
 
 of the invalid must be extended to liim througli the 
 aperture. 
 
 The physician of this convent related to me these 
 facts as I was visiting the institution, and stated that 
 many of the nuns had died in consequence of these 
 impediments to a proper medical attendance. He told 
 me that on one occasion, indignant at this suicidal 
 course, he went to Cardinal Patrizi, the patron of this 
 convent, who replied to his complaint that there was 
 no need of interference, these persons being, not sui- 
 cides, but victims of holy modesty. 
 
 " When the nun enters this establishment, she is, 
 I have said, ' huricd alive.'' She must henceforth 
 know nothing of her relatives. Once in the year it is 
 allowed that relatives of the first degree present them- 
 selves at the monastery, and speak in the hearing of 
 the recluse ; they may not, however, see the counte- 
 nance of their daughter or sister. When a near rela- 
 tive of a nun dies, the ^lother Superior, on the even- 
 ing after that event, says at prayers, ' ^ly sisters, let 
 U.S pray for the soul of the father, or mother, or brother 
 of one of our number, who died yesterday or to-day ;' 
 and it is not permitted that any one know who it is 
 that has died : hence each imagines that it may be her 
 own father, mother, or brother ; and in this uncertainty 
 she is left, in order that she may, with more fervor, 
 from day to day, pray for the deceased. Such is the 
 abuse that fanaticism makes of religion ! But things 
 of this sort are not generally known or believed, and 
 for this reason I state and affirm the facts. If you 
 should pubhsh them, do so with my name, as I am 
 willing to be responsible for them. 
 
 o 
 
314 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 " When a youtli, I resided in the neighborhood of 
 this convent, and I remember that one day tlie Pope, 
 Leo XII., made an unexpected visit to the institution. 
 It excited much curiosity in the quarter to know the 
 occasion of this visit, which was as follows : A woman 
 had an only daughter who had taken the veil in that 
 convent. Left a widow, she came often to the insti- 
 tution, and with a mother's tears besought that she 
 might be allowed, if not to see, at least to hear the 
 voice of her daughter. What request more just and 
 more sacred from a mother? But what is there of 
 sacredness and justice that fanaticism does not cor- 
 rupt? The daughter sent word by the confessor to 
 her mother that if she did not cease to importune her, 
 she would refuse to speak to her even on the day 
 when she would be allowed to do so. That day at 
 length arrived; the widowed mother was the first to 
 present herself at the door of the convent, and she 
 was told that she could not see her daughter. In de- 
 spair, she asked Why ? No answer. Was she sick ? 
 No reply. Was she dead ? Not a word. The mis- 
 erable mother conjectured that her daughter was dead. 
 She ran to the Superiors to obtain at least the privilege 
 of seeing her corpse, but their hearts were of iron. 
 She went to the Pope : a mother's tears touched the 
 breast of Leo XII., and he promised her that on the 
 following morning he would be at the convent and as- 
 certain the fact. He did so, as I have said, unex- 
 pectedly to all. Those doors, which were accustomed 
 to open only for the admittance of a fresh victim, open- 
 ed that day to the head of the Church of Eome. See- 
 ing the wretched mt^ther who was the occasion of this 
 
LETTER FROM DR. DE SANCTIS. 315 
 
 visit, he called Ler to liim, and ordered her to follow 
 him into the nunnery. The daughter, who, by an ex- 
 cess of barbarous fanaticism, thought to please Heav- 
 en by a violation of the holiest laws of nature, con- 
 cealed herself upon hearing that her mother had, enter- 
 ed the convent. The Pope called together in a hall 
 the entire sisterhood, and commanded them to lift the 
 veils from their faces. The mother's heart throbbed 
 with vehemence ; she looked anxiously from face to 
 face once and again, but her daughter was not there. 
 She believed now that she was dead, and, with a pierc- 
 ing cry, fell down in a swoon. While she was reviv- 
 ing, the Pope peremptorily asked the Mother Superior 
 whether the daughter was dead or alive. She replied, 
 at length, that she was yet living, but having vowed 
 to God that she would eradicate every carnal affection 
 from her breast, she was unwilling even to see her 
 mother again. It was not until the Pope ordered her 
 appearance, in virtue of the obedience due to him, and 
 upon pain of mortal sin, that the nun came forth. This 
 outrage upon human nature, which might have result- 
 ed in parricide, is denominated in the vocabulary of 
 monasticism '-virtue in heroic degree."* 
 
 "Besides the convent of the 'Vive Sejyolte' there 
 are at Eome other institutions of a similar cast ; for 
 example, that of the Capuchin nuns of San Urbano, 
 those of JMonte Cavallo, the Tercsians of San Giuseppe 
 a Capo le case, those of San Eligio in Trastevere, and 
 so forth. Numbers of these poor ^^Tetches every year 
 commit suicide through a false Spirit of penitence. 
 They go witliout necessary food ; they wear haircloth 
 when nature demands restoratives ; they refuse them- 
 
316 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 selves remedies which would arrest disease, and this 
 from a false modesty which forbids the communicating 
 of their ailments to the physician. Many have I 
 known to die of such procedure. You will call these 
 nuns poor victims of delusion ; the world will call 
 them mad ; but, in the dictionary of the convent, they 
 are termed * holy martyrs of sacred modesty,'' 
 
 "I will not relate to you all the minutiae of the con- 
 vent life ; it would take a volume instead of a letter 
 to do so. Imagine what must be an establishment 
 where fifty or sixty women live, as it were, in a pris- 
 on — women brought together without knowledge of 
 one another, gnawing the curb of an imprisonment 
 which they affect to make appear voluntary, and which 
 they seek to persuade themselves is such — and you 
 will perceive what must be the nature of their life. * * 
 * * Suicide by means of the rope or poison is not a 
 very frequent occurrence in nunneries at Eome, but a 
 species of suicide little known to the world is most fre- 
 quent there : I mean that which proceeds from impru- 
 dent penances, the injurious repression of innocent af- 
 fections, the persistent effort to contradict and thwart 
 nature in every possible mode, the refusal, from false 
 modesty, to make known, for medical advice, whatever 
 maladies may occur— these and other reasons suffice 
 to account for the fact that a very considerable propor- 
 tion of nuns perish in youth, and so many others drag 
 through years an existence of continued ailments and 
 infirmities. * * * 
 
LETTER FROM DR. DE SANCTIS. 317 
 
 THE NUNS AND THEIR CONFESSORS. 
 
 " There are other convents of ' contemplative life' — 
 such is the appellation given to those where thie prin- 
 cipal occupation is or ought to be prayer — in which 
 matters proceed quite differently from the ' Vive Se- 
 polte.' xit such institutions you would see, from ea,rly 
 in the morning till evening, a string of j)riests and 
 monks going and coming ; these are the confessors of 
 the nuns. To enable you to understand this more 
 clearly, let me say that for each convent there is a 
 confessor, so called. This confessor is a priest, ap- 
 pointed by the bishop and supported by the nunnery, 
 who must always be at the convent for the ' spiritual 
 direction' of its inmates. He is the pastor of the com- 
 munity, and all ought, according to rule, to confess to 
 him. But it is not the practice of nuns to confess to 
 the ordinary confessor. Each one has her own in par- 
 ticular, and some have two or three ; but these partic- 
 ular confessors can not be called by that name ; they 
 are termed ' directors.' Each ' director,' as he reaches 
 the institution, is received by his nun, who, if it be in 
 the morning, regales him with a cup of excellent choc- 
 olate, or, after dinner, with refreshments, of which 
 sweetmeats always form a part. While this holy di- 
 rector is eating, his nun converses with him ; ordina- 
 rily the interview lasts about half an hour ; then they 
 go and shut themselves up in a confessional, where 
 they remain at least an hour. This occurs at least 
 twice a week, and often every day. The conversation 
 is commonly any thing but religious ; it is apt to con- 
 sist chiefly of small-talk and scandal. * * * 
 
318 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 EDUCATION AT CONVENTS. 
 
 " I have promised to speak of those convents which 
 are devoted to education and instruction. Nearly all 
 the nunneries contain some young persons who are in 
 process of education, and are supported there by their 
 relatives for this purpose; but there are convents 
 which have for their principal scope the instruction of 
 youth. For these institutions the description I have 
 given of the others will, in general, answer to the 
 truth ; but it must be added that the young persons 
 receiving their education at the convent do not know 
 all that takes place in the establishment. They live 
 in a particular portion of it, separate from the greater 
 part of the nuns, whom they see only in the choir and 
 at the refectory. They are under the charge of a nun 
 who superintends their education. 
 
 "But wherein does this education consist? Cul- 
 ture of intellect they can not derive from the reading 
 of ascetic books, legendaries, lives of the saints, and 
 particularly from those works w^hich speak of the fe- 
 licities of the monastic life and the horrors of the world. 
 In their tender minds this is the cardinal idea incul- 
 cated, that outside of the cloister it is almost impossi- 
 ble to find salvation. All books save those that speak 
 of these things are absolutely prohibited. Hence ge- 
 ography, history, and all other branches of useful and 
 necessary knowledge are completely banished from 
 these places as worldly studies. 
 
 ^^The culture of the heart is shockingly profaned. 
 Ignoring the life of the family, they learn to detest it. 
 With the pretext that every human relation is profane, 
 
LETTER FEOM DE. DE SANCTIS. 319 
 
 they alienate themselves, under the garb of sanctity, 
 from parental love. They love none but those whom 
 they believe to stand in the place of God — the confess- 
 or foremost of all, and then the mother mistress. 
 Should one of these young persons leave the convent 
 and marry (I relate what I have known in many cases), 
 broils and strifes arise in the domestic circle. vShe re- 
 fuses to obey her husband until the confessor has in- 
 structed her in matrimonial duties, and has command- 
 ed her to obey. Is this always innocence ? I an- 
 swer. Wo, 
 
 " For a young girl educated in a convent to be a 
 good wife and a good mother is a thing most rare. 
 At Rome it is a common saying, ' Do you want a faith- 
 less woman ? ]\Iarry a ghl brought up at a nunnery.' 
 This rule has its exceptions, but be assured they are 
 exceptions ; fifteen years of experience at the confes- 
 sional have taught me this. Such a person can not 
 be a good mother, because, not educated in the fam- 
 ily, she knows nothing of domestic life. She can not 
 be a good housekeeper, because the superintendence 
 of a household is something to her quite new. Few 
 are the husbands who have not speedy cause to repent 
 of marrying a young girl just out of the convent. 
 With regard to work, the nuns teach only how to em- 
 broider church cloths. 
 
 " There is some difference, however, in the case of 
 those convents which are destined more particularly 
 for the education of the young. Of this nature there 
 are at Rome the nunnery of ' Torre di Specchi,' for 
 the high aristocracy ; that of the ' Sacred Heart,' em- 
 bracing all classes of persons ; and that of the ' Ursu- 
 
320 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 lines,' for the middle class. * * * At the ' Sacred 
 Heart,' the instruction given is certainly Letter than 
 at other convents ; but let us examine its character. 
 Geography is taught ; it may, however, be denomi- 
 nated geography applied to Jesuitism. Eespecting ev- 
 ery country and kingdom described, it is explained 
 whether there be Jesuits in it, how much good they 
 have done if there, how much evil has resulted if they 
 have been driven away. History is taught ; with the 
 sole design, however, of convincing that Popery and 
 Jesuitism are the only source of all good, and that 
 where these have not been found, every crime and hor- 
 ror has thriven. Thus the young mind is so thorough- 
 ly imbued with prejudice, that it shudders at the bare 
 mention of Henry the Eighth, Cromwell, or Washing- 
 ton. * * * The religious instruction consists of weak 
 superstitions. She who can best adorn the image of 
 her favorite samt, whom she changes every month, is 
 the most devout. 
 
 NATUEAL AFFECTIONS DESTROYED. 
 
 " That, however, which constitutes the chief object 
 of instruction, and wherein the nuns wonderfully suc- 
 ceed, is the eradication of filial love and respect, to be 
 supplanted by a blind obedience to the priests. And 
 thus it is that they proceed. Two principal motives 
 are brought into play for this purpose — pride and re- 
 ligion. They begin by exalting the freedom of the in- 
 dividual. They say that it is a gift of God, and we 
 must not suffer it to be taken away. A doctrine most 
 true ; but listen to the application. The parents of 
 the young girl propose to lier, for instance, a match. 
 
LETTER FROM DR. DE SANCTIS. 321 
 
 it may be most desirable. The young girl has been 
 taught to look upon this proposal as an attempt upon 
 her individual liberty, and she accordingly declines. 
 Her parents endeavor to persuade her ; they urge that 
 they do not wish to compel her assent, but only rec- 
 ommend what seems for the best. She, however, has 
 learned from the nuns a quantity of stories about 
 young people who have been rendered miserable by 
 acceding to the will of their parents, and she persists 
 in her refusah The parents then are obliged to go to 
 the confessor^ and obtain of him that he will persuade 
 the young girl. The confessor gathers information re- 
 specting the person in question, and if the match suit 
 the Jesuits, the young girl will be persuaded, other- 
 wise her disinclination will increase. vSay what you 
 will of the father and mother being her best friends, 
 the most deserving of confidence — domestic life has 
 become extinguished in the convent ; for its inmate 
 there is no father bu.t the confessor, no mother but the 
 'mistress mother.' 
 
 " But, beside this motive of self-will, that of relio-- 
 ion is brought in to set aside the parental right. This 
 seems incredible ; it is nevertheless a fact. The fa- 
 vorite principle that constitutes the theme of the ex- 
 hortations of the ' mistress mother' is the explanation 
 — I should say, rather, the infamous perversion, of a 
 passage in the Gospel, ' He that loveth father or moth- 
 er more than me, is not worthy of me.' From this 
 text they inculcate upon these youthful minds that 
 when they feel themselves inspired to do or not to do 
 any thing, they are not to listen to their parents, who 
 may command or counsel them against that inspira- 
 2 
 
322 MISS bunklet's book. 
 
 tion, otherwise they would love father or mother more 
 than Jesus Christ, and render themselves unworthy 
 of him. Then, to assure themselves of such inspira- 
 tion, there is but one method — to consult the confess- 
 or. The confessor, being consulted, replies that first 
 of all it is requisite to spend some time in prayer ; lie 
 therefore prescribes a ' noveiicC [nine days' devotion] 
 to the ' Sacred Heart,' or to some favorite saint; mean- 
 while he ascertains the facts of the case. If the re- 
 sult of this inquiry be favorable, and the young girl 
 feels herself inspired to say JSfo, then he shows her 
 that the inspiration is a temptation which must be 
 withstood. If his decision be negative, then the opin- 
 ion of the confessor, harmonizing with the no of the 
 young girl, proves it to be a real inspiration from God. 
 The whole family may go to ruin, it matters not, be- 
 cause ' he that loveth father or mother more than me, 
 is not worthy of me.' 
 
 " With such principles as these, a young person ed- 
 ucated at a convent becomes a bhnd instrument in the 
 hands of the Jesuits. Imagine how good a daughter, 
 wife, and mother she will prove. 
 
 " I have thus given you, dear sir, a rapid sketch of 
 the nunneries of Rome. I can assure you that I have 
 stated only what I have seen and known from close 
 observation, to the truth of which I pledge myself. 
 Believe me your devoted servant and brotlier in Jesus 
 Christ, L. De Sanctis, D.D., 
 
 " Minister of the Holy Gospel. 
 
 "London-, Sept. 20th, 1855;' 
 
REFORMATION OF CONVENTS. 323 
 
 VIII. REFORIVIATION OF CONVENTS. 
 
 If the testimony of individual witnesses, well au- 
 thenticated, be yet deemed insufficient in proof of the 
 abuses incidental to monasticism, we have only to con- 
 clude with a brief review of the legislation that has 
 been found necessary, at almost every period of eccle- 
 siastical history, for the redress of evils that have be- 
 come too flagrant to be concealed. 
 
 Whether by individuals high in office in the Church 
 of Rome, or through the interference of civil rulers, 
 there have been attempted numerous reforms of the 
 monastic orders and checks upon the excessive corrup- 
 tion into which the ascetic system has always shown 
 an inherent proneness to run. 
 
 History tells us that in the Middle Ages luxury 
 and vice grew to such a pitch tliat new rules were at 
 various epochs introduced, for the express purpose of 
 restoring a discipline which had given way to eveiy 
 imaginable irregularity. With this view, the monas- 
 tery of Clugny, in Burgundy, was founded in 910, 
 and a considerable number of monasteries in Spain, 
 Italy, and Germany were reformed on the same model, 
 while other institutions were based upon new schemes 
 aad stricter regulations. These, in turn, acquiring by 
 their special repute for sanctity fresh influence and 
 wealth, became proud and luxurious, and demanded, 
 by their mutual dissensions and jealousies, the fre- 
 quent interposition of successive popes. When the 
 sixteenth century dawned, the condition of these or- 
 ders, for the most part, was not less debased than 
 iu the darkest age preceding. The enormities devel- 
 
324 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 oped by the liglit of tlie Keformation in connection 
 with the monasteries of Germany, Scotland, and Italy, 
 disgusted all enlightened men with the entire system, 
 and amply justified its abolishment in Protestant coun- 
 tries. 
 
 It was not in these alone, however, that the urgency 
 of reform in the monastic organizations became obvi- 
 ous with the spread of intelligence and cultivation 
 throughout the countries of Europe. Statesmen of 
 Roman Catholic governments became convinced that 
 insufferable injuries to the welfare of nations were nec- 
 essarily connected with the unrepressed growth of the 
 so-called "religious" orders. The effect of this sys- 
 tem upon the increase of population, by the encour- 
 agement held out to celibacy ; upon general industry, 
 by the unproductive idleness of those who thus lived 
 on the earnings of others ; upon the general thrift and 
 wealth, by their incessant grasping at the estates of 
 the rich ; and upon public morals, by the crimes noto- 
 riously committed within their walls — all this was ap- 
 parent to the Roman Catholic legislators of the eight- 
 eenth century. In 1781, the houses of some monas- 
 tic orders were wholly abolished by Joseph II. of Aus- 
 tria ; and those which he suffered to remain were lim- 
 ited to a certain number of inmates, and cut off from 
 all communication with any foreign authority.* In 
 1790, the abolition of all religious orders was decreed 
 in France, and the example was soon followed by the 
 
 * To the disgrace of modern civilization, a concordat has just been 
 effected [in the autumn of 1855] between Austria and the Pope, by 
 which the restoration of all these monastic establishments is author- 
 ized, and the control of education committed to the hands of the Jesuits. 
 
REFOEMATION OF CONVENTS. 325 
 
 majority of the Eoman Catholic states of Europe. In 
 our own day, tlie republics of South America have fol- 
 lowed in this career of reform ; and still later, Sardinia 
 and Spain have enacted laws for the suppression of 
 monasteries. In the former kingdom there were near- 
 ly four hundred of these haunts of idleness, containing 
 some forty thousand monks and nuns, and holding 
 more than one half of the real estate of the realm, 
 exempt from taxation I The perseverance of the gov- 
 ernment in effecting this reform has brought upon it 
 the impotent threat of excommunication from the Pope. 
 In Spain, the Cortes have passed, by large majorities, 
 a bill for the sale of a considerable amount of ecclesi- 
 astical property. 
 
 We have room only to signalize, in passing, some 
 of the developments of vice and crime made in the 
 course of these various attempts to redress a system 
 of innate corruption and propensity to perpetual dete- 
 rioration. To go back no farther than 1489, in the 
 reign of Henry YII. of England, a bull was issued by 
 Pope Innocent VIII. for the " reformation of monas- 
 teries." In this decree the pontiff states that he has 
 heard with deep displeasure that many monasteries in 
 England have relapsed from their rules, and that many 
 of their inmates, having put away from themselves the 
 fear of God, and given themselves up to a reprobate 
 mind, lead a lascivious and too dissolute life. The 
 facts by which this declaration is corroborated in the 
 history of English monasteries and nunneries are too 
 revolting for reproduction in our pages. The enor- 
 mous vices that led to the visitation and suppression 
 of these establishments in the succeeding reign of 
 
326 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 Henry YIII. are well known. With regard to Ger- 
 many and France in the preceding period, repeated 
 bulls of popes and decrees of councils have stereotyped 
 the evidence of the fact of a total and general deprava- 
 tion of morals in the conventual houses of men and 
 women throughout those countries. 
 
 As late as the close of the past century, an Italian 
 prelate, Scipione de Ricci, bishop of Pistoja and Prato, 
 undertook the reform of certain flagrant disorders ex- 
 isting in his own diocese. For years this excellent 
 man labored to accomplish the work of expurgation. 
 The irregularities of life which he has depicted in his 
 memoirs as of common occurrence among the Domini- 
 can nuns of Tuscany are positively frightful. Crimes 
 unexampled and unheard of were rife within those se- 
 cret inclosures. The access and intercourse of the 
 monks of the corresponding order was attended with 
 every variety of immoral behavior. But these evils 
 were not of a day's growth. As far back as 1642, 
 petitions were on record, addressed to the then Grand 
 Duke, and signed by the representatives of the people 
 of Pistoja, asking for a prompt remedy of the outrages 
 upon decency and religion notoriously committed at 
 these institutions. These repeated records, says Ric- 
 ci, "showed that the spiritual ruin was beyond de- 
 scription, arising from the familiarity which existed 
 between the monks and the nuns, and from the facil- 
 ity of ingress to the convents which the monks enjoy- 
 ed.'^ They ate and drank with those who were their 
 
 * The reader may for himself compare these statements, and those 
 of Dr. De Sanctis to the same effect, with the intimations contained in 
 Chapter XXVIII. of the preceding narrative. Reason and reflection, 
 
REFORMATION OF CONVENTS. 327 
 
 favorites and the most devoted to tliem, remaining 
 with them tete-a-tete in some cell, and even sleeping 
 
 however involuntarily, can not but pause at this singular adaptation 
 and correspondence of male and female orders in the monastic scheme. 
 The shop-keepers at Rome have for sale a " panorama" of the various 
 fraternities existing in that city. In these colored prints there will be 
 seen, on opposite pages, in their correlative garb, the " Olivetani" 
 Monks and " Ohvetane" Nuns ; the " Agostiniani" and the " Penitenti 
 di S. Agostino ;" the '• Domenicani" and the " Monache di S. Domen- 
 ico ;" the " Carmelitani" and the " Carmelitane ;" the Capuchins, Car- 
 thusians, Franciscans, Trinitarians, etc., etc., male and female, each 
 confronting the other in good fellowship and loving recognition, like 
 lawful man and wife in decent Christian wedlock. It is a general ar- 
 rangement of Romanism, and apparently not without some significance 
 and propriety, to establish in contiguous positions the male and female 
 institutions of those particular orders, who observe the same " rule," 
 and derive their sanction from the same founder. Thus we have the in- 
 stitutions of the Lazarists and Sisters of Charity both at Emmettsburg, 
 Maryland. The brethren are the confessors of the sisterhood. They 
 have the same official head, and are regulated by the same system. 
 " T^e Superior-General of the Congregation of the Mission, or Laza- 
 rists, is ex officio Superior-General of the Daughters of Charity ; and 
 hence their direction is confided, when practicable, to a clergyman who is 
 a Lazarist." These words are not an inference of our own, but the 
 statement of the Rev. Charles I. White, D.D., in his "Life of Mrs. 
 Seton, Foundress and first Superior of the Sisters or Daughters of 
 Charity in the United States of America," published by Dunigan & 
 Brother, New York, 1853 ; page 464, note. Now all this would be 
 well enough, and perfectly unexceptionable and praiseworthy, if it had 
 but the sanction of God's ordinance instituted expressly for the conse- 
 crating of this sort of relationship and mutuality of rule and life. Then 
 it would be legal — then it would be holy ; for " marriage is honorable 
 in all, but'' — "God will judge." 
 
 Nor let it be said that we are conjecturing where there is neither fact 
 nor probability to support. Of the facts, as already in some small part 
 specified, and elsewhere accessible in detail, the reader is competent to 
 judge. Of the prob.vbilities, hear the acknowledgments of the dis- 
 tinguished Roman Cathohc historian, Dr. Lingard : 
 
 " This scheme of monastic polity," says he, " singular as it may now 
 appear, was once adopted in most Catholic countries. Its origin may 
 
328 
 
 in the convent, in a room, indeed, set apart, "but still 
 within the cloisters." Addressing a cardinal, Eicci 
 says farther: "In writing to the Pope, I would not 
 enter into infamous details which would horrify you. 
 Yet what have not these wretched Dominican monks 
 Tbeen guilty of? Provincials, priors, all alike, instead 
 of remedying the disorders committed by the confess- 
 ors, have either allowed or else themselves committed 
 the same iniquities." 
 
 It must he added that all Eicci's efforts to reform 
 the convents of Tuscany were vain. Upheld by his 
 enlightened sovereign, he was thwarted by all around 
 him ; and when that prince was called from the ducal 
 
 be ascribed to the severitj^ with which the founders of rehgious orders 
 have always prohibited eviery species of unnecessary intercourse be- 
 tween their female disciples and persons of the other sex. To prevent 
 it entirely was impracticable. The functions of the sacred ministers 
 had always been the exclusive privilege of the men, and they alone 
 were able to support the fatigues of husbandry and conduct the exten- 
 sive estates which many convents had received from the piety of their 
 benefactors. But it was conceived that the difficulty might be dimin- 
 ished, if it could not be removed; and, with this view, some monastic 
 legislators devised the plan of establishing double monasteries. In the 
 vicinity of the edifice destined to receive the virgins who had dedicated 
 their chastity to God, was erected a building for the residence of a so- 
 ciety of monks or canons, whose duty it was to officiate at the altars 
 and superintend the external economy of the community. The morti- 
 fied and religious life, to which they had bound themselves by the most 
 solemn engagements, was supposed to render them superior to tempta- 
 tion ; and, to remove even the suspicion of evil, they were strictly for- 
 bidden to enter the inclosure of the women except on particular occa- 
 sions, with the permission of the Superior, and in the presence of wit- 
 nesses. But the Abbess retained the supreme control over the monks 
 as well as the nuns : their Prior depended on her choice, and was 
 bound to regulate his conduct by her instructions." — Angh-Saxon 
 Church, vol. i., p. 173. 
 
REFORMATION OF CONVEXTS. 329 
 
 throne of Tuscany to tlic imperial throne of Austria, 
 Eicci was left helpless among his enemies. He was 
 forced to abdicate his see, and, after enduring much 
 persecution and imprisonment, he ended by abjectly 
 humbling himself before the Pope, and signing a full 
 recantation drawn up for him at Eome.* 
 
 One addition to this painful recital, and we close. 
 In our o^yn times, within a year past, a revelation of 
 monastic enormities such as must sicken the very 
 heart, has been laid open to the world. We have be- 
 fore us "The Petition of Ubaldus Borzinsky, of the 
 Order of the Brothers of Mercy, to Pope Pius IX." 
 It has just been made public. The monastery to 
 which Ubaldus Borzinsky belongs is at Prague, in Bo- 
 hemia. In thirty-seven distinct and full specifications, 
 Borzinsky exposes a catalogue of crimes of the deep- 
 est dye, committed to his knowledge and that of the 
 other monks in various monasteries of the Brothers of 
 Mercy in Austria. The petition commences as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 "Holy Father, — As nothing we undertake can 
 prove successful without the assistance of the Most 
 High, I therefore earnestly implore the Holy Spirit 
 to communicate his enlightening influence and gra- 
 cious aid in the matter I now lay before you, which 
 also involves an humble request. 
 
 " The task I have proposed to myself is far from 
 being a pleasant one, as it only exhibits painful events, 
 and is calculated to av/aken very distressing feelings 
 
 * Nuns and Nunneries ; Sketches compiled entirely from Romish 
 authorities. London, 1852. Pages 242-373. 
 
330 
 
 in the mind of your Holiness. But it is necessary, 
 in order that I may have peace in my own mind, 
 through the favor and grace of your Holiness, that I 
 should bring both to your consideration. I have also 
 thought of the maxim, '- De^ grandi e de^ morti^jparla 
 bene o tad [Of the great and of the dead, speak good 
 or else be silent] ; but mindful, Holy Father, that 
 truth should not be concealed when we would appeal 
 to so august and holy a tribunal as yours, I com- 
 mence under the help of the Most High." 
 
 Borzinsky then proceeds to narrate the gross im- 
 moralities of Vitus Hreschich, Prior of the Brothers 
 of ]\Iercy in the monastery of Presburg, in Hungary, 
 and also those of the Prior Sanctus JMartens. The 
 former of these became provincial of the order, and 
 then sold his priorship to the highest bidder. He was 
 succeeded in 1853 by Odilo Eayth, a man of notori- 
 ous dissoluteness. Next follow statements of the 
 seductions, adulteries, and more monstrous and un- 
 natural offenses of priors and brothers, in a large 
 number of houses connected with the order in Hun- 
 gary, Bohemia, Moravia, and at Vienna itself. Much 
 of this statement is unfit for translation. We quote 
 only the concluding item of this shameful account. 
 
 "XXXVII. Paschal Fiala was for twenty years 
 provincial of the order, and acted as his predecessor did 
 and as his successors have done, in selling the prior- 
 ates and higher offices of the convents. * * * This 
 Paschal Fiala kept two ladies in Vienna, the one 
 Madame von Ledwinka, and the other Madame von 
 Sebald, which many of the older brothers yet well re- 
 member. These females divided the greater part of 
 
EEFORMATION OF CONVENTS. 331 
 
 the sale of priorates and other conventual offices be- 
 tween themselves. They lodged in the city of Vien- 
 na, in apartments consisting of four or five rooms, the 
 rent of which Avas 500 or 600 florins per annum. 
 They kept two or three servant-maids ; and all this 
 expense was defrayed from the property of the sick 
 poor. Most of the priors obtain wagon-loads of farm 
 produce, such as butcher's meat, butter, fowls, corn, 
 eggs, dried fruits, and eimers of the most exquisite 
 wines for their own tables, the property of the poor. 
 If any right-minded brother of the order, whose heart 
 bled wdien he saw that the sick poor on this account 
 were badly attended to, and necessarily deprived of 
 part of their allowance, dared to make any remark re- 
 garding the injustice of these proceedings, that man 
 was at once marked for persecution and oppression 
 to the very utmost. * * * 
 
 " Help me, therefore, most Holy Father," concludes 
 Borzinsky, "if this my most humble petition should 
 ever reach your hands. In my soul I look on the 
 matter I have represented — and I could bring much 
 more before your Holiness — with deep affliction, even 
 now in my prison-house. Help me out of the order 
 altogether, most Holy Father, and I will pray for you 
 all my life long. I shall end my life very unhappily 
 unless you may exert your great power to deliver me 
 from the order of which I am a member. 
 
 " Your Holiness orders that our convents be visited, 
 that better conduct may prevail in future. The old 
 forgotten statutes of the order are to be restored to 
 their power, and to be punctually observed. Your 
 intentions, most Holy Father, are the best ; but here, 
 
332 
 
 however, there will he no improvement ; for even 
 those who ohserve not the new rules, nevertheless 
 promise to do all which you, most Holy Father, would 
 have them to observe. * * * 
 
 "I most respectfully kiss your Holiness's apostolic 
 feet, and beg you graciously to regard the petition, 
 which I, with child-like and profound veneration, pre- 
 sent to the notice of your Holiness. 
 
 "(Signed), Ubaldus Boezinsky, 
 
 "/?i the monastery of the Brothers of Mercy at 
 Prague, 
 " Prague, October, 1854." 
 
 How long, we ask, after a perusal of this startling 
 document, will it be before scenes like these shall be 
 acted in our own land V Romanism is advancing with 
 rapid strides among us. A throng of priest-ruled em- 
 igrants presses upon our shores. The institutions of 
 Jesuitism, wliich the old governments and nations of 
 Europe, even the most absolute and the most thor- 
 ough papal, have felt to be an intolerable burden upon 
 their prosperity, are already obtruded on our young 
 and vigorous state. Swarms of foreign priests and 
 nuns are settling down upon our soil, and seducing to 
 their prison-houses the daughters of our people. What 
 may be already occurring in those secret places we do 
 not know, nor can we foretell how soon a shuddering 
 public may hear the voice of exposure, in recitals like 
 those just echoed from distant Austria. Eome dreads 
 nothing so much as exposure. Crime may be borne 
 with so long as it can be hushed; but '' scandal" — 
 the disgrace and shame of notorious guilt — is the ca- 
 
EEFOEilATION OF CONVENTS. 333 
 
 lamif J of all others to be foreclosed. In view of such 
 a policy, we can only prognosticate results from the ex- 
 perience of the past. Shall we heed the voice of warn- 
 ing that comes to us from thence, or shall we hasten 
 to add to the record another example of ruin, spir- 
 itual and temporal, from the overspreading blight of 
 priestcraft and monasticism ? 
 
 In the name of humanity, we caU for the imposition 
 of legal limits to the arbitrary rule of the convent. We 
 ask that liberty be proclaimed to the captives of a se- 
 vere and cruel system. These institutions, existing 
 already among us, but in glaring opposition to the fun- 
 damental theories and principles of a republic ; these 
 institutions, that are but so many organizations of des- 
 potism transplanted to our soil— we ask that liberty 
 of conscience and rights of self-control be extended to 
 their unhappy inmates ; so that, though there be but 
 one among all those victims of delusion that is unwill- 
 ingly detained, she may be sent forth to enjoy the 
 common privileges of the land. We ask that it be 
 made by law impossible for a system of peonage — a 
 system that involves the total surrender of personal 
 will, whether for life or for a stated term to be formal- 
 ly renewed — an act as yet unlegalized — a system of 
 moral suicide and civil death — to continue in force 
 among us. We invoke the concurrence of all, wheth- 
 er Protestants or Catholics, who hold dear the hered- 
 itary rights of freemen, in petitioning our Legislatm'es 
 for the passage of some provision whereby the doors of 
 closed convents and all other institutions where vows 
 of absolute obedience are taken, shall be opened at 
 stated periods for the admittance of commissioners, 
 
334 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 appointed by our legislators or judges, who shall per- 
 sonally inquire of every individual whether she be 
 there of her own choice or by compulsion. The pros- 
 ecution of this just demand is the scope of our desires 
 in sending forth this book. Without the sanction of 
 so worthy a purpose, the labor of its preparation would 
 be but ill repaid in satisfying popular inquiry, however 
 natural and proper. That these pages may arouse 
 some who read them to vigilance and effort against the 
 plots of which they reveal a part, is the sincere prayer 
 of the writer. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 The following description of the institution at Em- 
 mettsburg is taken from the "Life of Mrs. Seton," 
 by the Reverend Charles I. White, D.D.,*" which pro- 
 fesses to give an authentic sketch of the sisterhood 
 from its foundation. It will be read, we think, with 
 interest. 
 
 "Although two spacious edifices had been erected 
 to meet the wants of St. Joseph's sisterhood and acad- 
 emy, the increasing prosperity of the institution ren- 
 dered it necessary to provide additional room. For 
 this purpose, a large building, fifty-seven by sixty-nine 
 feet, and three stories high, was commenced in 1841, 
 connecting w^tli the eastern extremity of the academy, 
 and running at right angles with it in a southern di- 
 rection. It is surmounted with a cupola and belvi- 
 dere, which command one of the most extensive and 
 delightful prospects that can greet the eye. Having 
 mentioned the different buildings appropriated to scho- 
 lastic purposes, we shall briefly state the particular 
 uses of each. The main edifice is distributed into 
 rooms for recitation, the cabinet of natural sciences, 
 the library, dormitories, etc., and in the lowest story 
 are the important aiTangements of the culinary depart- 
 
 * Published by Dunigan & Brother. New York, 1853. 
 
336 MISS bunkley's book. 
 
 ment. Another building in tlie rear contains the re- 
 fectory, infirmary, bathing establishment, and a large 
 hall for drawing, painting, and embroidery. The last- 
 mentioned edihce has three grand divisions : a study- 
 room, a hall for public exhibitions, and one for the ex- 
 ercises of vocal and instrumental music. 
 
 "A few years after its erection, in 1844, another 
 extensive structure was undertaken for the exclusive 
 accommodation of the sisters and novices, and was 
 completed in little more than twelve months, having 
 been occupied in September, 1845. It stands east 
 and west, connecting the academy and the chapel, with 
 lateral projections to the south, inclosing on three sides 
 a court-yard seventy feet by forty in extent. The 
 new residence of the sisters is two hundred and thir- 
 ty-two feet in developed length, and forty in width, 
 with two stories and a roomy attic, and is constructed 
 of brick and cut stone, colored of a light slate or gray. 
 It is a^ter the conventual style of the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries, with embattled parapets ; high- 
 pitched roof, with dormers, surmounted by a belfry 
 thirty feet high; the windows of the second story 
 square, with transom forming a cross ; the lower win- 
 dows mullioned with hood-moulds ; the lateral walls 
 broken by buttresses ; and with porches to the first 
 and second stories, running along the north wall. The 
 building is truly Catholic in its external appearance. 
 .... The interior parts of the edifice are well adapted 
 to their sacred uses. The lower and second stories 
 are severally fourteen feet in height. On the first is 
 a cloister, running around the entire court-yard and 
 communicating with the chapel, and also the public 
 
NOTE. 337 
 
 rooms for tlic use of tlic community, among them the 
 Superior's apartment and chapter-room. The other 
 stories are occupied as dormitories, and for the infirm- 
 ary, refectory, and other purposes." — P. 455-7. 
 
 The chapel of the institution, consecrated in 1841, 
 is thus described: "This beautiful church fronts the 
 western extremity of the academy, at a distance of 
 about seventy feet. The style of its architecture is 
 Tuscan. It is a spacious building, one hundred and 
 twelve feet long, and ninety-one "wide, with a lofty 
 steeple, and embracing at the rear end two wings, one 
 of which serves as a vestry-room, the other for the 
 orphans and strangers who wish to attend the divine 
 service. The body of the church is reserved for the 
 sisters and the young ladies of the academy. The 
 fa9ade is very appropriately set off with a finely-sculp- 
 tured statue of St. Joseph, and bears a Latin inscrip- 
 tion, which states that the edifice, erected at the ex- 
 pense of the Daughters of Charity, was dedicated by 
 them to the glory of God in honor of their chief pa- 
 tron. As you enter the front door, on the left, is a 
 recess, containing an altar commemorative of the seven 
 dolors of the Yirgin ]\Iother, which are exhibited by a 
 well-executed group in composition. This group was 
 presented to the chapel by a pious nobleman of France, 
 to obtain a share in the rich blessings which God so 
 readily grants to his cherished spouses. In the re- 
 cess, on the right, is an altar sacred to St. Philomena, 
 which the piety of former pupils has raised and dec- 
 orated with costly gifts In the spacious chancel 
 
 of the church rises a marble altar, of the purest white, 
 and of matchless elegance ; and, elevated high above 
 
 P 
 
338 
 
 it, in the niche of a canopy constructed of the same 
 rich material as the altar, stands a well-sculptured 
 image of the blessed Virgin, with the child Jesus in 
 her arms. Above the tabernacle, on either side, is 
 seen a cherub in the posture of profound awe and ad- 
 oration before the holy of holies. The interior of the 
 chapel contains, moreover, several paintings of merit." 
 — P. 450-1. "The bell which hangs in the steeple 
 of St. Joseph's church is one of the many articles of 
 this description which were brought to this country 
 from Spain during the ascendency of Espartero." — 
 Note, p. 519. 
 
 THE END. 
 
INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT 
 FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 Boohs Adajpted to Familij, School, Town, District, 
 
 and Sunday-School Libraries, 
 
 By Jacob and John S. C. Abbott. 
 
 Abbotts' Illustrated Histories. 
 
 A Series of A'olumes by Jacob aud Jonx S. C. Abbott, containing 
 severally full accounts of the lives, characters, and exploits of 
 the most distinguished Sovereigns, Potentates, and Rulers that 
 have been chiefly renowned among mankind, in the various ages 
 of the world, from the earliest periods to the present day. 
 
 The Volumes of this Series are printed and bound uniformly, 
 and are adorned with richly illuminated Title-pages and numer- 
 ous Engravings. 16mo, Muslin, 60 cents per Volume; Muslin 
 gilt edges, 75 cents per Volume ; Library Sheep, 75 cents per 
 Volume. The Volumes may be obtained separately. 
 Cyrus the Great. Alfred the Great. 
 
 Darius the Great. William the Conqueror. 
 
 -f-,erxes. Mary Q„een of g^Q^g^ 
 
 Alexander the Great. Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 Romulus. Charles I. 
 
 Hannibal. Charles 11. 
 
 Pyri'^us. Josephine. 
 
 Julius Cfflsar. Maria Antoinette. 
 
 Cleopatra. Madame Roland. 
 
 ^'^^°- Hernando Cortez. 
 
 The narratives are succint and comprehensive, and are strictly faithful to the 
 truth so far as it can now be ascertained. They are written in a very plain and 
 simple style, but are not n'-vemle in their character, nor intended exclusively for 
 oiM""^,"^".- / ^'olumes are sufficiently large to allow each history to comprise 
 all the leadmg fac s m the life of the personage who is the subject of it, and thus 
 to communicate all the mformatiou in respect to liim which is necessary for the 
 purposes of the general reader. ^ 
 
 hiS.^- ^^r^f volumes of the series foUow each other, in the main, in regular 
 lustoncal order and each one continues the general narrative of historv down to 
 the period at which the next volume takes up the story ; so that the whole series 
 will, when completed, present to the reader a connected line of general historv 
 from the present a?c back to the remotest times. Thus the whole series consti- 
 tutes a very complete and valuable treasury of historical knowledge, while yet 
 hf on° ^"''''.'""'^'^5'"^ as it does of a single distinct and entertaining narrative 
 has all the interest, for the reader, of a tale uaixauve, 
 
 ^n^L^ yl \ "°^^o"l.y for family reading, but also for district, town, school, and 
 
 The^;oInml^'?'^T''- ^' 'l'^^ ^" ^°'" te-^t-books in literary seminaries. ' 
 .Jr^ZJ^.^^^^^^^' »^^"^^ h^^'« l^ad a wide circulation in aU parts of the 
 The Dla^rrh. ^''^ ''^° ^""^^'^ '^"'^^^"^ ^--^'""^^^ 1^^^'i"? been already soS 
 hv?he authors in thf' ^""^ \^^ ""?""'.' '" ^^'"^^ '^^ designlias been carried out 
 in all n^rts o^th^.n" f"'^"^^^" "^ ^'^ have been highly commended by the press 
 S exeninr/!irvT"""^;^"'^«™^"y individual parents have spoken of the books 
 fnVamnn/thJ l?^ ^^'^''^'"^''^"^^ '" awakening a taste for instructive read- 
 Th^ h^ ^ ' chddren, and a love for the acquisition of useful knowledge. 
 
 largL^In^^'^S'Sfl'urnti^rstSe?'"^^' ^^^^ ^'^ ^^^°°^ '""'^'''^ «^^--^^ °f ^^^ 
 
 l^SSYS^SSnSSSS.^"^^-^ " many difl^rent f.rnis, and 
 
2 INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 The Little Learner, by Jacob Abbott. 
 
 The " Little Learner" is a series of juvenile books adapted o the earliest age, 
 and designed to assist in the very first development of the mind of a child while un- 
 der its mother's special care The series is comprised in Five Volumes, and is in- 
 tended to constitute a complete manual of instruction for the child during the five 
 or six first years of life. 
 
 LEARNING TO TALK ; or, Entertaining and Instructive Lessons in the use 
 of Language. Illustrated with 170 Engravings. Small 4to, Muslin, 50 cents. 
 This volume is designed to assist the child in its first attempt to acquire the 
 use of language. It consists of a great number of beautiful engravings, with sim- 
 ple explanations to be read to the child by a parent, or older brother or sister, 
 with many explanations of words and lessons in pronunciation interposed. 
 
 LEARNING TO THINK. Consisting of Easy and Entertaining Lessons, de- 
 signed to assist in the first unfolding of the Reflective and Reasoning Powers 
 of Children. Illustrated with 120 Engravings. Small 4to, Muslin, 50 cents. 
 Designed to call out and cultivate the reflective and reasoning powers of tha 
 child, and to exercise and develop the imagination. It contains a great number 
 of beautiful engravings, accompanied by explanations and remarks, and with a 
 great number and variety of questions to be read by the parent or teacher, and 
 answered by the child. 
 
 LEARNING TO READ. Consisting of Easy and Entertaining Lessons, de- 
 signed to assist young Children in studying the Forms of the Letters, and in 
 beginning to Read. Illustrated with 160 Engravings. Small 4to, Muslin, 50 
 cents. 
 
 This volume is intended to amuse and interest the child in the work of learn- 
 ing the forms of the letters, and in beginning to read. Like all the other volumes 
 of the series, it is profusely illustrated wih beautiful engravings. 
 
 LEARNING ABOUT COMMON THINGS; or, Familiar Instructions for Chil- 
 dren in respect to the Objects around them, that attract their Attention, and 
 awaken their Curiosity, in the earliest Years of Life. Illustrated with 120 En- 
 gravings. Small 4to, Muslin, 50 cents. {Shortly.) 
 
 The object of this volume is to communicate useful elementary instruction to 
 the child, in respect to the various objects that come within his observation, and 
 attract his attention in the earliest years of his life. It aims to give a right di- 
 rection to his thoughts on these subjects, and to accustom him to correct and 
 careful habits, both of observation and reflection in respect to them, and to a cor- 
 rect and discriminating use of language in describing what he sees. 
 
 LEARNING ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG. (Nearhj ready.) 
 
 This volume explains those simple and universally admitted principles of moral 
 and religious duty which are applicable to the conduct and character in the earli- 
 est years of life. Its aim is to assist in the development of the dawning con- 
 science of the little learner, and cultivate and enlighten his moral sense. The 
 principles are all presented in a very practical form, and are illustrated with a 
 great variety of examples made real and vivid to the child by means of the engrav- 
 ings. 
 
 Abbott's Kings and Queens. 
 
 Kings and Queens; or, Life in the Palace. Consisting of Tlistor- 
 ical Sketches of Josephine and Maria Louisa, Louh Philippe, 
 Ferdinand of Atistria, Nicholas, Isabella IL, Leopold, Victoria, 
 and Louis Napoleon. By Jonx S. C. Abbott. With numerous 
 Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00; Muslin, gilt edges, $1 25. 
 
 Abbott's Summer in Scotland. 
 
 A Summer in Scotland. By Jacob Abbott. With Engravings. 
 
 12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 
 
 A pleasant and agreeable record of observations made during a summer's resi- 
 dence and travelinp in the land of Bruce and Wallace. 
 
INSTRUCTION AND KNTIiRTAINMENT FOR THE YOUNG. 3 
 
 Harper's Story Books. 
 
 A Montlily Series of Narratives, Biographies, and Tales for the 
 Instruction and Entertainment of the Young. By Jacob Abbott. 
 Embellished with numerous and beautiful Engravings. 
 
 These books are published in monthly Numbers of 160 pages, 
 small quarto. They are very beautifully illustrated, and are 
 printed on line calendered paper. 
 
 The Series may be obtained of Booksellers, Periodical Agents, 
 and Postmasters, or from the Publishers, at Three Dollars a Year, 
 or Twenty-five Cents a Number. Subscriptions may commence 
 with any Number. The Postoge upon " Harper's Story Books," 
 ■which must be paid Quarterly, in advance, is Two Cents. 
 
 The several Numbers are also bound separately in Muslin, and 
 are to be procured in this form at any Booksellers, at Forty Cents 
 per Volume. 
 
 The Numbers are also bound in Quarterly Volumes, Three 
 JNumbers in a Volume, and are sold at $1 00 per Volume. 
 
 The two Periodicals, "Plarper's New Monthly Magazine" and 
 " Harper's Story Books," will be sujjplied to Subscribers at Five 
 Dollars a Year, and will be published on the first day of each 
 Month. ^ 
 
 The successive numbers of the Story Books present a great variety of subjects 
 and of styles of composition, including narratives, dialogues, descriptive essays, 
 histories, and entertaining stories of a character to interest and please the, youth- 
 lul mind, and at the same time to impart information that will be useful in sub- 
 sequent life. Thus they combine the presentation of important and interesting 
 lacts with the inculcation of sound principles in taste, morals, and religion, and 
 thus form a welcome and efficient aid in the work of home education. Though 
 not intended to be of exclusively religious character, they are so far designed to 
 exert a moral and religious influence on the minds of the readers as to lead to 
 their introduction in many instances to Sabbath School Libraries. 
 
 The illustrations of the successive numbers are very numerous, and are exe- 
 cuted in the highest style of modern xylography. 
 
 The following volumes are now ready: 
 
 Vol. I. BRUNO ; or, Lessons of Fidelity, Patience, and Self-denial taught by 
 a Dog. 
 
 WILLIE AND THE MORTGAGE. Showing how much may be ac- 
 complished by a boy. 
 
 THE STRAIT GATE ; or. The Rule of Exclusion from Heaven. 
 
 Vol. n. THE LITTLE LOUVRE ; or. The Boys and Girls' Picture Gallery 
 PRANK ; or. The Philosophy of Tricks and Mischief. 
 EMMA; or The Three Misfortunes of a Belle. 
 
 Vol. III. VIRGINIA ; or, A Little Light on a Very Dark Saying. 
 TIMBOO AND JOLIBA ; or. The Art of being Useful. 
 TIMBOO AND FANNY ; or. The Art of Self-instruction. 
 
 Vol. IV. TILE HARPER ESTABLISHMENT ; or. How the Story Books are 
 Made. 
 FRANKLIN, the Apprentice Boy. 
 
 THE STUDIO ; or, Illustrations of the Theory and Practice of Draw- 
 ing, for Young Artists st Home. 
 
 Vol. V. THE STORY OF ANCIENT HISTORY, from the earliest Periods 
 to the Fall of the Roman Empire. 
 
 THE STORY OF ENGLISH HISTORY, from the earliest Periods to 
 the American Revolution. 
 
 THE STORY OF AMERICAN HISTORY, from the earliest Settle- 
 ment of the Country to the Establishment of the Federal Constitution 
 
 Vol. VI. JOHN TRUE ; or. The Christian Experience of an Honest Boy. 
 ELFRED ; or, the Blind Boy and his Pictures. 
 THE MUSEUM; or. Curiosities Explained. 
 
4 INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 Abbott's Fraiiconia Stories. 
 
 Franconia Stories. By Jacob Abbott. Beautifully bound, en- 
 graved Title-pages, and numerous Illustrations. Complete in 10 
 vols. IGmo, Muslin, 50 cents each. The Volumes may be ob- 
 tained separately. 
 
 Malleville. "Wallace. Mary Erskine. 
 
 Mary Bell. Beechnut. Rodolphus. 
 
 Ellen Linn. Stuyvesant. Caroline. 
 
 Agnes. 
 This charming series of connected stories is complete in ten volumes. Each, 
 volume is an entirely distinct and independent work, having no necessary con- 
 nection of incidents with those that precede or follow it, while yet the characters 
 of the scenes in which the stories are laid are substantially the same in all. 
 They present peaceful pictures of happy domestic life, and are intended not chief- 
 ly to amuse and cntenain the children who shall peruse them, but to furnish them 
 with attractive lessons of moral and intellectual instruction, and to train their 
 hearts to habits of ready and cheerful subordination to duty and law. 
 
 The most attractive tales for children which have been issued from the press 
 for years. — Cincinnati Gazette. 
 
 Abbott's Marco Paul Series. 
 
 Marco Paul's Voyages and Travels in the Pursuit of Knowledge. 
 
 By Jacob Abbott. Beautifully Illustrated. Complete in 6 vols. 
 
 16mo, Mtislin, 60 cents each. The Volumes may be obtained 
 
 separatel}^ 
 
 In jN'ew Vork. In Vermont. 
 
 On the Erie Canal. In Boston. 
 
 In the Forests of Maine. At the Springfield Armory. 
 
 The design of these volumes is not simply to present a narrative of juvenile ad- 
 ventures, but also to communicate, in connection with them, a knowledge of the 
 geography, scenery, and customs of the sections of country over Avhich the young 
 traveler is conducted. Marco Paul makes his journeyings under the guidance of 
 a well-informed tutor, who takes care to give him all the information of which 
 he stands in need. The narrative is rendered still further attractive by the in- 
 troduction of personal incidents which would naturally befall the actors of the 
 story. No American child can read this series without delight and instruction. 
 But it will not be confined to the juvenile library. Presenting a vivid comment- 
 ary on American society, manners, scenery, and institutions^ it has a powerful 
 charm for readers of all ages. 
 
 Abbott's Young Ciiristian Series. 
 
 The Young Christian Series. By Jacob Abbott. Very greatly 
 Improved and Enlarged. With numerous Engravings. Com- 
 plete in 4 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00 each. The Volumes may be 
 obtained separately. 
 
 The Young Christian. The Way to do Good. 
 
 The Corner Stone. Hoaryhead and M'Donner. 
 
 The present edition of Abbott's Young Christian Series is issued in a style of 
 uncommon neatness, and is illustrated with numerous spirited and beautiful en- 
 gravings. It is superfluous to speak of the rare merits of Abbott's writings on the 
 subject of practical religion. Their extensive circulation, not only in our ov,-n 
 country, but in England, Scotland, Ireland, France, Germany, Holland, India, and 
 at various missionary stations throughout the globe, evinces the excellence of 
 their plan, and the felicity with which it has been executed. In unfolding the dif- 
 ferent topics which he takes in hand, Mr. Abbott reasons clearly, concisely, and 
 to the point ; but the severity of the argument is always relieved by a singular 
 variety and beauty of illustration. It is this admirable combination of discussion 
 with incident that invests his writings with an almost equal charm for readers 
 of every diversity of age and culture. 
 
INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE YOUNG. 5 
 
 Abbott's Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 The Ilistor}- of Napoleon Bonapai'te. By John S. C. Abbott- 
 With Maps, Wood-cuts, and Portraits on Steel. 2 vols. 8vo, 
 Muslin, 85 ; Sheep, $5 75 ; Half Calf, $6 ; Full Morocco, $10. 
 This work, which attracted so much attention while making its monthly ap- 
 pearance in Harper's Magazine, is now published, in two royal octavo volumes 
 of a little more than GOO pages each. The volumes are elegantly printed, neatly 
 bound, and contain two hundred and fifty-one exceedingly interesting wood-cuts. 
 More than thirty maps, constructed expressly for the purpose, enable the reader 
 accurately to trace the movements of the Emperor through all his wonderful ca- 
 reer. A steel engraving, as exquisitely cut as any thing of the kind which has 
 ever been executed in this country, embellishes each of the volumes. One repre- 
 sents Napoleon a young man, when in command of the army of Italy. The other 
 represents the Emperor when in the maturity of his years. The accuracy of the 
 likenesses may be relied upon. When we consider the intrinsic interest of the 
 history, the richness and beauty of the illustrations, and the typographical ele- 
 gance of the work, it is not too much to say, that two more attractive volumes 
 have never been is.sued from the American press. 
 
 Mr. Abbott has devoted four years of incessant labor to this work, investigating 
 all the authorities of value in this country and in Europe. He has been enabled 
 to avail himself of the criticisms which the work has elicited. The authorities 
 are given in reference to every statement which an intelligent man might question. 
 The work has been very carefully revised, considerably enlarged by the introduc- 
 tion of authorities, and is now presented to the American public as a truthful rec- 
 ord of the career of Napoleon. 
 
 Abbott's Napoleon at St. Helena ; 
 
 Or, Interesting Anecdotes and Remarkable Conversations of the 
 Emperor during the Five and a Half Years of his Captivity. 
 Collected from the Memorials of Las Casas, O'Meara, Montholon, 
 Antommarchi, and others. By John S. C. Abbott. With Illus- 
 trations. 8vo, Muslin, $2 60 ; Half Calf, $3 00. 
 " The author of this volume performs mainly but the unambitious task of com- 
 pilation. He desires to take the reader to St. Helena, and to introduce him to the 
 humble apartment of the Emperor. He would give him a seat in the arm-chair, 
 by the side of the illustrious suflTerer reclining upon the sofa, or to lead him to ac- 
 company the Emperor in his walk among the blackened rocks, and thus to listen 
 to the glowing utterances of the imperial sage. The literature of our language 
 affords no richer intellectual treat than the conversations of Napoleon. Hitherto 
 widely scattered in many volumes, and buried in the mist of a multiplicity of de- 
 tails of but transient interest, they have been inaccess'ble to the mass of readers. 
 By preseniinif them in one volume, they are within the reach of all who can ap- 
 preciate the eloquence of words and of thought." 
 
 Abbott's Child at Home. 
 
 The Child at Home ; or. The Principles of Filial Duty familiarly 
 Illustrated. By John S. C. Abbott, Author of "The Mother at 
 Home." Beautifully embellished with Wood-cuts. 16rao, Mus- 
 lin, 60 cents. 
 
 Abbott's Mother at Home. 
 
 The Mother at Home ; or, The Principles of Maternal Duty fa- 
 miliary Illustrated. By John S. C. Abbott. With numerous En- 
 gravings. 16mo, Muslin, 60 cents. 
 
 The Teacher. 
 
 Moral Influences Employed in the Instruction and Government 
 of the Young. A New and Revised Edition. By Jacob Abbott. 
 With Engravings. 12mo, Muslin. $1 00. 
 
BUNGENER'S COUNCIL OF TRENT. 
 
 History of tlie Council of Trent. From the French of L. F. Bunge- 
 NER, Author of " The Priest and the Huguenot." Edited, from 
 the Second English Edition, by John M'Clintock, D.D. 12mo, 
 Muslin, $1 00. 
 
 Most persons know that the Council of Trent was a product of the Reforma- 
 tion, but comparatively few, we suspect, know much about its history. Those 
 who wish to know (and it is a matter worth knowing) will find ample means of 
 information in this volume. * * * He (the author) is clear in statement, subtle 
 and consecutive in his logic, and steers as far from dullness as from sourness. — 
 Perthshire Advertiser. 
 
 It is aU that a history should be— perspicuous in language, discriminating in 
 detail, dignified and philosophical in manner, candid and faithful in the narration 
 of facts, and bears evident traces of extensive reading and enlarged information. 
 — Caledonian Meecury. 
 
 This history is invaluable.— CArz'sfmn Advocate. 
 
 Characterized by clearness, truthfulness, and vigor in the narrative, acuteness 
 and terseness in the reasoning, and a spirit of Christian fidelity and charity. — 
 Watchman. 
 
 The work before us is undoubtedly one of the very best that has appeared on 
 the subject. The writer has abundant materials, and has used them with fidelity, 
 impartiality, and talent. His brilliant style radiates in every department of the 
 M^ork. — Philadelphia Eveimig Bulletin. 
 
 A work of permanent interest, which should be well understood by the ministry 
 of our church and country. — Christian Observer. 
 
 It is adapted for popular reading ; while, as a true portraiture of men and things 
 in the Council, it is invaluable to the theologmn.— Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 MEXICO AND ITS RELIGION; 
 
 Or, Incidents of Travel in that Country during Parts of the Years 
 1851-52-53-54, with Historical Notices of Events connected 
 -with Places Visited. By Robert A. "Wilson. Wiih Illustra- 
 tions. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 
 
 This is a record of recent travel in various parts of Mexico, including full sta- 
 tistical details, historical reminiscences and legends, and descriptions of society, 
 manners, and scenery. A large portion is devoted to the influence of the Catholic 
 Church, and relates many piquant narratives in illustration of the subject. The 
 author writes in a lively, graphic, and, sometimes, humorous style. He gives a 
 great deal of valuable information, and his travels can not fail to find numerous 
 readers and prove a most popular volume. 
 
 SEYMOUR'S JESUITS. 
 
 Mornings among the Jesuits at Rome. Being IsTotes of Conversa- 
 tions held with certain Jesuits on the Subject of Religion in the 
 City of Rome. By Rev. M. Hobart Seymour, M.A. 12mo, 
 Mu'slin. '75 cent^ 
 
LOSSING'S PICTORIAL FIELD-BOOK 
 
 Of the Revolutiou ; or, Illustrations, by Pea aud Pencil, of the His- 
 tory, Biography, Scenery, llelics, and Traditions of the War 
 for Independence. 2 vols, Koyal 8vo, Muslin, §;8 00; Sheep, 
 $9 00; Half Calf, $10 00; Full Morocco, 815 00. 
 
 A new and carefully revised edition of this magnificent work is just completed 
 in two imperial octavo volumes of equal size, containing 1500 pages and 1100 en- 
 gravings. As the plan, scope, and beauty of the work were originally developed, 
 eminent literary men, and the leading presses of the United States and Great 
 Britain, pronounced it one of the most valuable historical productions ever issued. 
 
 The preparation of this work occupied the author more than four years, during 
 which he traveled nearly ten thousand miles in order to visit the prominent scenes 
 of revolutionary history, gather up local traditions, and explore records and his- 
 tories. In the use of his pencil he was governed by the determination to withhold 
 nothing of importance or interest. Being himself both artist and writer, he has 
 been able to combine the materials he had collected in both departments into a 
 work possessing perfect unity of purpose and execution. 
 
 The object of the author in arranging his plan was to reproduce the history of 
 the American Revolution in such an attractive manner, as to entice the youth of 
 his country to read the wonderful story, study its philosophy and teachings, and 
 to become familiar with the founders of our Republic and the value of their labors. 
 In this he has been eminently successful ; for the young read the pages of the 
 ' Field-Book" with the same avidity as those of a romance ; while the abundant 
 stores of information, and the careful manner in which it has been arranged and 
 set forth, render it no less attractive to the general reader and the ripe scholar of 
 more mature years. 
 
 Explanatory notes are profusely given upon every page in the volume, and also 
 a brief biographical sketch of every man distinguished in the events of the Revo. 
 iution, the history of whose life is known. 
 
 A Supplement of forty pages contains a history of the Naval Operations of the 
 Revolution ; of the Diplomacy ; of the Confederation and Federal Constitution ; 
 the Prisons and Prison Ships of New York; Lives of the Signers of the Declara- 
 tion of Independence, and other matters of curious interest to the historical student. 
 
 A new and very elaborate analytical index has been prepared, to which we call 
 special attention. It embraces eighty-five closely printed pages, and possesses 
 rare value for every student of our revolutionary history. It is in itself a com- 
 plete synopsis of the history and biography of that period, and will be found ex- 
 ceedingly useful for reference by every reader. 
 
 As a whole, the work contains all the essential facts of the early history of our 
 Republic, which are scattered through scores of volumes often inaccessible to the 
 great mass of readers. The illustrations make the whole subject of the American 
 Revolution so clear to the reader that, on rising from its perusal, he feels thorough- 
 ly acquainted, not only with the history, but with every important locality made 
 memorable by the events of the war for Independence, and it forms a comple;e 
 Guide-Book to the tourist seeking for fields consecrated by patriotism, which lie 
 scattered over our broad land. Nothing has been spared to make it complete, re- 
 liable, and eminently useful to all classes of citizens. Upward of TIIIRTY-FIYE 
 THOUSAND DOLLARS were expended in the publication of the first edition. 
 The exquisite wood-cuts, engraved under the immediate supervision of the author, 
 from his own drawings, in the highest style of the art, required the greatest care 
 in printing. To this end the eflbrts of the publishers have been directed, and we 
 take great pleasure in presenting these volumes as the best specimen of typogra- 
 phy ever issued from the American press. 
 
 The publication of the work having been commenced in numbers before its 
 preparation was completed, the volumes of the first edition were made quite un- 
 equal in size. That defect has been remedied, and the work is now presented in 
 two volumes of equal size, containing about 780 pages each. 
 
WOMAN S RECORD ; 
 
 Or, Sketches of all Distinguished Women from the Creation to the 
 Present Time. Arranged in Four Eras. With Selections from 
 Female Writers of each Era. By Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale. 
 Illustrated Avith 230 engraved Portraits. Second Edition, re- 
 vised and enlarg^ed. Royal 8vo, Muslin, $3 50 ; Sheep, $4 00; 
 Half Calf, $4 25. 
 
 " Many years have been devoted to the preparation of this comprehensive work, 
 wiiich contains complete and accurate sketches of the most distinguished women 
 in all ages, and, in extent and thoroughness, far surpasses every previous bio- 
 graphical collection with a similar aim. Mrs. Hale has ransacked the treasures 
 of history for information in regard to the eminent women whom it commemor- 
 ates ; few, if any, important names are omitted in her volumes, while the living 
 celebrities of the day are portrayed with justness and delicacy. The picture of 
 woman's life, as it has been developed from the times of the earliest traditions to 
 the present date, is here displayed in vivid and impressive colors, and with a 
 living sympathy which could only flow from a feminine pen. A judicious selec- 
 tion from the writings of women who have obtained distinction in the walks of 
 literature is presented, affording an opportunity for comparing the noblest produc- 
 tions of the female mind, and embracing many exquisite gems of fancy and feel- 
 ing. The biographies are illustrated by a series of highly-finished engravings, 
 which form a gallery of portraits of curious interest to the amateur, as well as of 
 great historical value. 
 
 This massive volume furnishes an historical portrait gallery, in which each aga 
 of this world had its appropriate representatives. Mrs. Hale has succeeded ad- 
 mirably in her biographical sketches. — Philadelphia Presbyterian. 
 
 " Woman's Record" is, indeed, a noble study and noble history. The sketches 
 are all carefully and even elegantly written. — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 
 
 What lady, who takes a pride in her sex, would not desire to have this volume 
 on her centre-table 1 and what husband, lover, or brother would leave such a wish 
 ungratified. — Washington Republic. 
 
 This superb monument of Mrs. Hale's indefatigable devotion to her sex is illus- 
 trated by 230 portraits, engraved in that style of excellence that has deservedly 
 placed Lossing at the head of his profession. —Philadelphia Saturday Courier. 
 
 We are pleased with the plan of the " Record," and with the manner in which 
 that plan is carried into execution. The book is a valuable and permanent con- 
 tribution to literature.— iVefw Orleans Baptist Chronicle. , 
 
 This work merits the warmest commendation. — Sun. 
 
 This is a large and beautiful book, and covers the ground marked out by the title 
 more fully and satisfactorily than any other work e.xtant. It is a most valuable 
 work. — Southern Ladies^ Companion. 
 
 Here we have placed before us a book that would do credit to any author or 
 compiler that ever lived, and, to the astonishment of some, produced by the head, 
 heart, and hand of a woman.— iV. Y. Daily Times. 
 
 This is a very curious and very interesting work— a Biographical Dictionary of 
 all Distinguished Females — a work, we believe, quite unique in the history of 
 literature. We have only to say that the work will be found both instructive, 
 amusing, and generally impartial. — London Ladies^ Messenger. 
 
 The comprehensiveness of the work renders it a valuable addition to the library. 
 — London Ladies^ Companion. 
 
 A Female Biographical Dictionary, which this volume really is, will often be 
 consulted as an authority ; and the great extent of Mrs. Hale's information as to 
 the distinguished women of modern times, supplies us witti a number of facts 
 which we knew not Vvhere to procure elsewhere. It is clearly and simply written 
 —London Gardian. 
 
HARPER'S STORY BOOKS. 
 
 A Monthly Series of Narratives, BiOGRAniiEs, and Tales, for the 
 Instructioa and Entertainment of the Young. By Jacob Ab- 
 bott. Embellished with numerous and beautiful Engravings. 
 
 Terms. — Each Number of " Harper's Stor^- Books" will contain 
 160 pages in small quarto form, very beautifully illustrated, and 
 printed on superfine calendered paper. 
 
 The Series may be obtained of Booksellers, Periodical Agents, 
 and Postmasters, or from the Publishers, at Three Dollars a year, 
 or Twenty-five Cents a Number in Paper, or Forty Cents a Num- 
 ber bound in Cloth gilt. Subscriptions may commence with any 
 Number. The Postage upon " Harper's Story Books," which must 
 be paid quarterly in advance, is Two Cents. "Harper's Magazine" 
 and " Harper's Story Books ' will be sent to one Address, for one 
 year, for Five Dollars. 
 
 The Quarterly Volumes, as completed, neatly bound in Cloth gilt, 
 are sold at One Dollar each, and Muslin Covers are furnished to 
 those who wish to have their back Numbers uniformly bound, at 
 Twenty-five Cents each. 
 
 Vol. I. Contains the first three Numbers, "Bruno,'' "Willie," 
 and "Strait Gate." — Vol. II. "The Little Louvre," "Prank," and 
 "Emma." — Vol. Ill "Virginia," "Timboo and Joliba," and "Tim- 
 boo and Fanny."— Vol. IV. "The Harper Establishment," "Frank- 
 lin," and " The Studio." 
 
 They are the best children's books ever published. They wisely avoid the in- 
 troduction or discussion of religious topics, yet are such as Christian parents 
 may unhesitatingly place in their children's hands. The price is marvelously 
 low. Twenty-five cents a number makes it about six pages of print and two ex- 
 cellent engravings for eace cent of the money. The engravings alone, without a 
 line of letter-press, would be cheap at the price. One good thnig these Story Books 
 will certainly accomplish : henceforth inferior authorship and used-up, worn out 
 illustrations can not be palmed off on children. They have samples here of what 
 is best for them, and they are shrewd enough not to put up with any thing of low- 
 er quality. — N. Y. Daily Times. 
 
 We have heard so many fathers and mothers who recognize the pleasant duty 
 of guiding the minds of their children in the paths of knowledge at home, speak 
 in terms of the highest commendation of this series of books for children, that wo 
 feel a desire to see them universally read among children. They constitute the 
 finest series of books for the young that we have seen.— Louisville Courier. 
 
 Who is better qualified than Jacob Abbott to prepare such a work ? He always 
 seems to have an intuitive perception of just what children want— just what will 
 take with them, and so ser^^e as the medium of conveying instruction in the pleas- 
 antest form. He has begun this new scries admirably, and we almost envy the 
 relish with which our children will read it. Now for a suggestion to parents : 
 instead of buying your boy some trumpery toy, give him a year's subscription to 
 this charming monthly. It will cost you three dollars, indeed ; but its excellent 
 moral hints and influence, its useful and entertaining knowledge, are worth all 
 that, and much more. If you think you can not afford it for one child, take it for 
 your childrai's home circle, and let one read it aloud to the others. You'll neve? 
 regret \t.— Christian Inquirer. 
 
INEZ, 
 
 A Tale of the Alamo. 12mo, Muslin, 15 cents. 
 
 We have to recommend the book to pious parents and guardians as written un- 
 der the influence ol' the strictest Protestant principles ; and to introduce it to young 
 ladies in general, as containing some very nice " love," seasoned pleasantly with 
 just enough fighting to make the whole story agreeable. — Leader. 
 
 When the Texans threw off the Mexican yoke and entered into our National 
 Confederacy, no portion of her people felt the change more keenly than her Ro- 
 mish priesthood, and especially the Jesuits. Their counter and insidious duties 
 of social and domestic life is the moral of this story. The lady who wrote it has 
 studied the Romish argument, and has managed it with effect. It is not a book 
 of the " Maria Monk" stamp ; it is a successful refutation and exposure, in popu- 
 lar form, of some of the worst points of the Romish syslem.— Church Review. 
 
 A most inviting story, the interest of which is sustained throughout its narra- 
 tive of stirring events and deep passions. — Mobile Register. 
 
 The descriptions of scenes of carnage, and the alarms and excitements of war 
 are graphic, while the polemics are not so spun out as to be tedious. The por- 
 traiture of the Jesuit padre is any thing but flattering to the Catholic priesthood, 
 while her dissertations upon the doctrines, traditions, practices, and superstitious 
 follies of the Holy Mother Church prove her to be no respecter of its claims to in- 
 fallibility, and no admirer of the disciples of Loyola. — Constitutionalist and Re- 
 public, Ga. 
 
 We have read this work with the liveliest pleasure, and we venture to assert, 
 that no one can take it up without going through with it.— Richmo7i(l Whig. 
 
 LE CURE MANQUE; 
 
 Or, Social and Religious Customs in France. By Eugene de Cour- 
 ciLLOx. 12mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 
 
 The autobiography of a young French peasant who was trained for the Church. 
 Its specific purpose is to give an account of the social and rural life and supersti- 
 tions of the peasants of Normandy, and to show the relations existing between 
 them and their priests. The author also describes, in a very interesting manner, 
 the routine and customs of the French ecclesiastical seminaries. 
 
 "Le Cure Manque is a curious work, for its pictures of French peasant man- 
 ners, its account of village priests, and its quiet but bitter satire on the selfishness 
 of the Romanist country clergy, and the ignorance in which they leave their flocks. 
 The filling up of the story shows remarkable skill, for the easy natural way in 
 which it carries out the authors intention of exhibiting " social and religious cus- 
 toms" in provincial France. — London Spectator. 
 
 The strange stale of society^ with its French and Papal habits which it por- 
 trays, will set new facts before the mind of even-traveled Tea.Aers.— Presbyterian 
 Banner. 
 
 Le Cure Manque (the Unfinished Priest) is a title which very accurately con- 
 veys an idea of what the book is. It lets the public behind the scenes in a remark- 
 able manner, and is one of the most readable books of the season.— .Y.Y. Daihj 
 Times. 
 
 A most agreeable and entertaining narrative, opening to most American readers 
 novel, strange, and (many of them) charming scenes. Though the Church may 
 be a loser (which is doubtful, however), the world has certainly been a gainer by 
 his apostacy from his sacred calling. — Savannah Journal. 
 
 The exposition of the Romish ceremonials, and of the subjecture of the masses 
 of the French people to priestcraft are peculiarly interesting. We quote, " How 
 a mass may be said for a pig, and refused for a Protestant."— .Y. Y. Commereial 
 Advertiser. 
 
DUE DATE 
 
 MAR I 5 
 
 1953 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 HAY^ 
 
 liim 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 11 1K1 1 
 
 n?nil5 
 
 
 
 JUNl 
 
 VJ LUw 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Printed 
 n USA 
 
UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
 0022199519 
 
 952.9 
 B88 
 
 o 
 
 PO 00 
 (T* CO 
 
^r^^^^^m^^^W*w^^^i^^rm^^f^r^^^« ii)PiJ,n|i 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 f^ 
 
 /'iWu" 
 
 '/'Jfr'j'rJr,"' ' 
 
 f^7** 
 
 H 
 
 v^^ 
 
 
 .:;i^..M....i,.,^^^>u...i^n.t.i»..iv.,v.i<,..,:,..,vto^;v.i»,Vga.m^,Vj.