Apparition 1.—On Monday, the 30th of August, 1880, Brother Dunstan went as usual, at 9 o’clock, into the church to take his watch before the blessed Sacrament. He waskneeling about twenty feet from the altar. At the south side of the altar there is a large window, which was not then filled with stained glass, and consequently a bright light shone upon the altar. The brother who left the watch had no communication with the sister who next came in to take her watch. She (Sister Janet) had been a schoolmistress in the neighbourhood for many years, and was now an associate of our Order.The brother had been half an hour at his watch, when he raised his eyes and saw, in front of the tabernacle, a kind of blue mist playing. As he looked at the mist, he thought that his eyes must be affected, and he rubbed them, thinking it was an illusion; but as he still looked, the mist thickened and densified, until he saw the Monstrance, or silver vessel which contained the Host, within the tabernacle glimmering in the mist, outside the massive door of the tabernacle, which was locked. This door is of iron, nearly an inch thick. The key was in my cell, which I had not left that morning because I had been very unwell, and had had a good deal of writing to do.The mist gradually cleared away, and then the sacred vessel containing the Host was plain before the brother’s eyes, and the sunlight in the window flashed upon it. He saw this for half an hour, and, on leaving his watch, still looked upon the vision as he went out.Sister Janet then came in to take her watch, and knelt down, as usual, at the screen in the outer church. When she looked at the altar, she saw the same appearance; but she did not dream of its being supernatural; she imagined only that the blessed Sacrament was exposed for some reason or other; but she was much astonished to find that the Host was exposed without the usual signs of reverenceand devotion which we always render when we have our three expositions in the year.We only have the Host exposed three times a year, and they are very solemn occasions; and we pay our Lord a great deal of honour during those days. On this occasion there was no light burning, there were no flowers, and the sister was consequently much astonished, knowing how particular we are in these matters of detail and reverence. Directly her watch was over at 11 o’clock she went to the monastery porch, rang the bell, and asked to see the brother who had taken the watch before her. When he came to the grating, she said: “Why has the reverend Father left the blessed Sacrament out?”When she had explained precisely what she had seen, and Brother Dunstan knew that the tabernacle had not been opened, he at once came to my cell to tell me what had happened.I suggested that we should go to the church. When we went in, the apparition had disappeared.Apparition 2.—In the evening (of the same day) after vespers, the choir-boys were in the meadow playing. All at once the noise of the game was stopped, and in a very short time one of the boys came running up to my cell, soon followed by others, saying: “Father, we have seen such a beautiful spirit in the meadow.” The eldest boy, who was fifteen years old, said he was certain that what they had seen was the blessed Virgin Mary—quite certain. He said that first of all, as he was waiting for his turn to run in the game, he was looking towards an old ruined hut, where there had been a farm-house, and he saw a bright light over the hedge and the figure of a woman, with hands upraised as if in blessing, and with a veil over her face, coming tohim. He stood still, and was much astonished and alarmed. The figure came almost at right angles to him, and then she passed close enough even for him to see the material of the garments that she wore. The figure passed off at right angles, and stood in a bright light in a bush about fifty feet from the boy. The bush was all illumined with phosphorescent light. The figure passed through the bush, and the light was there for some little time after the form had disappeared. The rest of the boys saw and described the same appearance.I had all the boys in the church, where I spoke solemnly to them, separately, and heard what they had to say. I told them what an unlikely story it was, and that no one would believe them; and I asked them what could have put it into their heads to think such a thing.But they still maintained that what they had said was true.We watched Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday evenings after that.Unfortunately I had to leave Llanthony on the Saturday, being under a promise to take the duty for a clergyman in the diocese of Exeter, where we had a convent at that time; but I left strict orders that the brothers and boys should watch every night at the same time, about eight o’clock, and then write to me, telling of any experience they might have.On Saturday night, Sept. 4th, the boys were out playing as usual, when, all at once, the same bush became illuminated with a very bright light. One boy called out, “The bush is on fire again!”For some time they watched the light; then they ran to the monastery to call out an elder brother.In the meantime a junior brother had come out, hadknelt down in the meadow before the illuminated bush, and had begun to say prayers and hymns. The boys were indignant because he was saying collects and hymns that had no relation to what they considered the vision to be, and they said: “Do not say those prayers, but say a ‘Hail, Mary’; for we are certain it was the blessed Virgin. If we do, our Lord will perhaps let the vision appear again.”While they were discussing, the senior brother came up, and he agreed that they should begin to sing “Ave, Maria.” That instant the figure flashed again, in a cloud of light, in the same place where the first boy had seen it on the Monday.As they sang, the figure sent out rays of light, sometimes appearing behind and sometimes in front of the hedge, and sometimes coming straight towards the illuminated bush. When they said the words in the “Hail, Mary,” “Blessed is the fruit of thy womb—Jesus,” they saw a second figure as of a man, with only a cloth round his loins, appearing in the light, with his hands stretched out.
Apparition 1.—On Monday, the 30th of August, 1880, Brother Dunstan went as usual, at 9 o’clock, into the church to take his watch before the blessed Sacrament. He waskneeling about twenty feet from the altar. At the south side of the altar there is a large window, which was not then filled with stained glass, and consequently a bright light shone upon the altar. The brother who left the watch had no communication with the sister who next came in to take her watch. She (Sister Janet) had been a schoolmistress in the neighbourhood for many years, and was now an associate of our Order.
The brother had been half an hour at his watch, when he raised his eyes and saw, in front of the tabernacle, a kind of blue mist playing. As he looked at the mist, he thought that his eyes must be affected, and he rubbed them, thinking it was an illusion; but as he still looked, the mist thickened and densified, until he saw the Monstrance, or silver vessel which contained the Host, within the tabernacle glimmering in the mist, outside the massive door of the tabernacle, which was locked. This door is of iron, nearly an inch thick. The key was in my cell, which I had not left that morning because I had been very unwell, and had had a good deal of writing to do.
The mist gradually cleared away, and then the sacred vessel containing the Host was plain before the brother’s eyes, and the sunlight in the window flashed upon it. He saw this for half an hour, and, on leaving his watch, still looked upon the vision as he went out.
Sister Janet then came in to take her watch, and knelt down, as usual, at the screen in the outer church. When she looked at the altar, she saw the same appearance; but she did not dream of its being supernatural; she imagined only that the blessed Sacrament was exposed for some reason or other; but she was much astonished to find that the Host was exposed without the usual signs of reverenceand devotion which we always render when we have our three expositions in the year.
We only have the Host exposed three times a year, and they are very solemn occasions; and we pay our Lord a great deal of honour during those days. On this occasion there was no light burning, there were no flowers, and the sister was consequently much astonished, knowing how particular we are in these matters of detail and reverence. Directly her watch was over at 11 o’clock she went to the monastery porch, rang the bell, and asked to see the brother who had taken the watch before her. When he came to the grating, she said: “Why has the reverend Father left the blessed Sacrament out?”
When she had explained precisely what she had seen, and Brother Dunstan knew that the tabernacle had not been opened, he at once came to my cell to tell me what had happened.
I suggested that we should go to the church. When we went in, the apparition had disappeared.
Apparition 2.—In the evening (of the same day) after vespers, the choir-boys were in the meadow playing. All at once the noise of the game was stopped, and in a very short time one of the boys came running up to my cell, soon followed by others, saying: “Father, we have seen such a beautiful spirit in the meadow.” The eldest boy, who was fifteen years old, said he was certain that what they had seen was the blessed Virgin Mary—quite certain. He said that first of all, as he was waiting for his turn to run in the game, he was looking towards an old ruined hut, where there had been a farm-house, and he saw a bright light over the hedge and the figure of a woman, with hands upraised as if in blessing, and with a veil over her face, coming tohim. He stood still, and was much astonished and alarmed. The figure came almost at right angles to him, and then she passed close enough even for him to see the material of the garments that she wore. The figure passed off at right angles, and stood in a bright light in a bush about fifty feet from the boy. The bush was all illumined with phosphorescent light. The figure passed through the bush, and the light was there for some little time after the form had disappeared. The rest of the boys saw and described the same appearance.
I had all the boys in the church, where I spoke solemnly to them, separately, and heard what they had to say. I told them what an unlikely story it was, and that no one would believe them; and I asked them what could have put it into their heads to think such a thing.
But they still maintained that what they had said was true.
We watched Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday evenings after that.
Unfortunately I had to leave Llanthony on the Saturday, being under a promise to take the duty for a clergyman in the diocese of Exeter, where we had a convent at that time; but I left strict orders that the brothers and boys should watch every night at the same time, about eight o’clock, and then write to me, telling of any experience they might have.
On Saturday night, Sept. 4th, the boys were out playing as usual, when, all at once, the same bush became illuminated with a very bright light. One boy called out, “The bush is on fire again!”
For some time they watched the light; then they ran to the monastery to call out an elder brother.
In the meantime a junior brother had come out, hadknelt down in the meadow before the illuminated bush, and had begun to say prayers and hymns. The boys were indignant because he was saying collects and hymns that had no relation to what they considered the vision to be, and they said: “Do not say those prayers, but say a ‘Hail, Mary’; for we are certain it was the blessed Virgin. If we do, our Lord will perhaps let the vision appear again.”
While they were discussing, the senior brother came up, and he agreed that they should begin to sing “Ave, Maria.” That instant the figure flashed again, in a cloud of light, in the same place where the first boy had seen it on the Monday.
As they sang, the figure sent out rays of light, sometimes appearing behind and sometimes in front of the hedge, and sometimes coming straight towards the illuminated bush. When they said the words in the “Hail, Mary,” “Blessed is the fruit of thy womb—Jesus,” they saw a second figure as of a man, with only a cloth round his loins, appearing in the light, with his hands stretched out.
Father Ignatius returned from Devonshire to Llanthony on Tuesday, September the 14th, and on that night, he says, “we watched, but saw nothing.” But, in the words of the oration, Ignatius thus describes the scenes of the following night:
On the 15th of September, between eight and a quarter-past eight, we watched again. It was a very close, muggy evening. There was a heavy Scotch mist descending, and the mountains were looking very dull and the sky leaden.It was so damp that we did not go into the meadow; but Sister Janet, who was not allowed to come to the monastery door where we were standing, went into the meadow.We were in the monastery porch. The boys were standing on the front steps; I was standing on the top step; one brother was at my left, and another brother on my right. Two farmers were behind in the back of the porch; and a gentleman visitor—an undergraduate of Keble College, Oxford, now in Holy Orders—was a little behind me to the right.I suggested that we should sing three “Hail, Mary’s,” in honour of each person of the blessed Trinity. We began a “Hail, Mary” in honour of God the Father.[21]Between the “Hail, Mary’s,” we, all of us, expressed our amazement at some very curious flashings of light, which we saw in all directions in the meadow, like the outlines of figures. That was the impression I had.…I then said, “Let us sing a ‘Hail, Mary,’ in honour of the blessed Virgin herself;” and we began to chant the fourth “Hail, Mary.”Directly we began to do so I saw a great circle of light flash out over the whole heavens, taking in the mountains, the trees, the ruined house, the enclosure, the monastery, the gates and everything; the light flashed upon our feet, upon the steps, and upon the buildings; and from that one great circle of light, small circles bulged out, and, in the centre of the circles, stood a gigantic figure of a human being, with hands uplifted, standing sideways.In the distance this gigantic figure appeared to be aboutsixty feet in height; but as it descended it took the ordinary size of a human being. At the moment it struck me that a dark appearance over the head of the figure was hair, not a veil; but I am convinced from comparing notes with the others, and also from other reasons, that it was a veil which I saw over the head.
On the 15th of September, between eight and a quarter-past eight, we watched again. It was a very close, muggy evening. There was a heavy Scotch mist descending, and the mountains were looking very dull and the sky leaden.It was so damp that we did not go into the meadow; but Sister Janet, who was not allowed to come to the monastery door where we were standing, went into the meadow.
We were in the monastery porch. The boys were standing on the front steps; I was standing on the top step; one brother was at my left, and another brother on my right. Two farmers were behind in the back of the porch; and a gentleman visitor—an undergraduate of Keble College, Oxford, now in Holy Orders—was a little behind me to the right.
I suggested that we should sing three “Hail, Mary’s,” in honour of each person of the blessed Trinity. We began a “Hail, Mary” in honour of God the Father.[21]Between the “Hail, Mary’s,” we, all of us, expressed our amazement at some very curious flashings of light, which we saw in all directions in the meadow, like the outlines of figures. That was the impression I had.…
I then said, “Let us sing a ‘Hail, Mary,’ in honour of the blessed Virgin herself;” and we began to chant the fourth “Hail, Mary.”
Directly we began to do so I saw a great circle of light flash out over the whole heavens, taking in the mountains, the trees, the ruined house, the enclosure, the monastery, the gates and everything; the light flashed upon our feet, upon the steps, and upon the buildings; and from that one great circle of light, small circles bulged out, and, in the centre of the circles, stood a gigantic figure of a human being, with hands uplifted, standing sideways.
In the distance this gigantic figure appeared to be aboutsixty feet in height; but as it descended it took the ordinary size of a human being. At the moment it struck me that a dark appearance over the head of the figure was hair, not a veil; but I am convinced from comparing notes with the others, and also from other reasons, that it was a veil which I saw over the head.
Ignatius, after mentioning that the two brothers, and Sister Janet had seen the same vision (he does not mention whether the farmers saw it), said: “From that time no further visions appeared.”
Two important reasons Ignatius then gave for “our Lord” giving these apparitions.
1. “For the good of the Church of England.”
2. “For the comfort of those in the outer world.”
Father Ignatius, in his oration, gave an account of his sending, a few days after this memorable apparition, to each of his nuns at Slapton, in Devonshire, “pieces of a wild rhubarb leaf, which had stood up dark against the dazzling garments of the apparition, as it appeared in the bush.”[22]
He then went on to describe how a certainnun at Slapton, “a middle-aged lady,” who had been a cripple for thirty-eight years, was healed by applying the said charm to her diseased limb. I will give you his own account of this supposed miracle.
On Tuesday, Sept. 21st, 1880, just seven days after the last apparition had been seen, she was quivering from head to foot with pain. She was going to lie down without lifting her diseased limb with the other limb on the bed, when something told her to use the leaf, which she had put, wrapped up in an envelope, in her pocket. She took the leaf out. She took the rosary and said ten “Hail, Mary’s”; and, at the end of the “Hail, Mary’s,” she took the piece of leaf and laid it upon these painful abscesses. The very instant the piece of withered leaf was laid upon the abscesses they closed up and the discharge ceased; her knee was loosened at the joint, her foot was on the ground, and she was cured instantaneously.The next morning she told and showed the reverend Mother and her sister nuns the miraculous wonder of God’s infinite goodness towards her; and the news quickly spread in the village.The vicar of the parish came to the convent, and the village people rang the village bells, for they were very fond of the nuns; and, in a day or two, there was a service of thanksgiving in the Priory Chapel, for the miracle that God had wrought. There was also an account in the local papers of what had taken place.
On Tuesday, Sept. 21st, 1880, just seven days after the last apparition had been seen, she was quivering from head to foot with pain. She was going to lie down without lifting her diseased limb with the other limb on the bed, when something told her to use the leaf, which she had put, wrapped up in an envelope, in her pocket. She took the leaf out. She took the rosary and said ten “Hail, Mary’s”; and, at the end of the “Hail, Mary’s,” she took the piece of leaf and laid it upon these painful abscesses. The very instant the piece of withered leaf was laid upon the abscesses they closed up and the discharge ceased; her knee was loosened at the joint, her foot was on the ground, and she was cured instantaneously.
The next morning she told and showed the reverend Mother and her sister nuns the miraculous wonder of God’s infinite goodness towards her; and the news quickly spread in the village.
The vicar of the parish came to the convent, and the village people rang the village bells, for they were very fond of the nuns; and, in a day or two, there was a service of thanksgiving in the Priory Chapel, for the miracle that God had wrought. There was also an account in the local papers of what had taken place.
Father Ignatius then mentions other miraclesof healing that were, he affirms, wrought by the use of the withered rhubarb leaf. The following words may be interesting to some of my readers; they appear at the close of the oration:
To sum up, then:
A solemn, public testimony has now been given to a most startling, supernatural phenomena, in aChurch of England monastery, in the midst of this unbelieving, materialistic age.By these phenomena the mysteries of Christianity have been solemnly confirmed; and the Word of God has received one more “So be it.”The Church of England has been supernaturally recognised as a true portion of the Catholic Church, and her Sacraments acknowledged by a miracle.The monastic revival, long persecuted[23]because of the two special points above alluded to, viz., the restoration of the reserved Sacrament, and the cultus of the mother of our Lord, have now received a sanction from on High, by these marvellous manifestations.English Churchmen have received from God a special approval for their ancient Church, in spite of her sadly isolated position.
A solemn, public testimony has now been given to a most startling, supernatural phenomena, in aChurch of England monastery, in the midst of this unbelieving, materialistic age.
By these phenomena the mysteries of Christianity have been solemnly confirmed; and the Word of God has received one more “So be it.”
The Church of England has been supernaturally recognised as a true portion of the Catholic Church, and her Sacraments acknowledged by a miracle.
The monastic revival, long persecuted[23]because of the two special points above alluded to, viz., the restoration of the reserved Sacrament, and the cultus of the mother of our Lord, have now received a sanction from on High, by these marvellous manifestations.
English Churchmen have received from God a special approval for their ancient Church, in spite of her sadly isolated position.
Having thus given, in Father Ignatius’s own words, an account of the alleged apparitions andmiracles, I feel sure many will naturally ask me for my opinion of them. My opinion is simply this: I believe something was seen which Ignatius really did believe to be supernatural, but which appearance I firmly believe to have been nothing more or less than a practical joke performed by a certain young man, who never intended it to be taken for anything supernatural, in the serious manner with which it was taken.
With regard to the vision of the “Sacred Host,” I simply do not believe it at all. I believe that one of them imagined it, and told the other about it in some way, and that that other was only too ready to believe it. This is my firm conviction about the matter, and I hope that as I am no longer a nun I have not only the right to have an opinion of my own, but also a right to express it.
During my sojourn at Llanthony, I never saw anything supernatural, although there were some who ofttimes tried to work my mind up to such a state, that it was with difficulty something of the kind was not forced upon my heated imagination.
I recollect a somewhat ridiculous circumstance in this direction, that occurred on the “eve” of the “anniversary of the apparition of our Lady of Llanthony.”
We were watching the procession of the Shrine, and its accompanying and subsequent rites, when suddenly the reverend Mother exclaimed:
“I see something; it’s moving!”
“Where?” I asked, “for I cannot see anything.”
The Mother then pointed to the “Abbot’s Meadow.” Therewassomething moving slowly, and I watched for a few moments, and then said:
“Why, it is the cow, with patches of white on her.”
And so it was, as she was obliged to acknowledge. This Mother I believe often professed to see visions, and dream supernatural dreams; and I might have thought that I saw visions, but being somewhat of an inquiring and matter-of-fact turn of mind, I preferred to be very cautious, and carefully sifted everything that had any appearance of the miraculous about it. For instance, I was once kneeling at the prayer-desk before the “altar,”supposing myself to be quite alone in the church; when I suddenly saw the curtains at the back of the “altar” gently moving for some time, and I wondered what this movement could mean. Then all was all quiet again, and I resumed my devotions, thinking that possibly I had only fancied it. Suddenly, behind the flowers and candlesticks, I beheld a face, and I began to tremble, and feared even to look up again; but at last I did so, and I beheld the reverend Mother, who was, I believe, engaged in dusting. Now if I had been half asleep, I might easily have imagined I had seen a vision of a departed saint; and I think the semi-darkness in which the sanctuary was enveloped, together with the soft rays of the ever-burning sanctuary lamp, can with little difficulty lead the devotee to imagine the supernatural, especially as we were always taught that on the “altar,” that miracle of miracles, or rather that imposture of impostures, took place in the transubstantiation of the bread and wine, into the body, blood, soul, and divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ.
But to return to the apparitions, an accountof which I have already given, and about which I have stated shortly my opinion.
I was at Slapton, in Devonshire, at the time they took place, and therefore I only heard what the boys had told Father Ignatius.
He asked us all: “Do you believe them?”
The other nuns said, “Yes.”
Father Ignatius then said: “Do you believe them, Sister Agnes?” I replied, “No, dear Father, of course I don’t. I never believe anything the boys say.”
I had a particular dislike to the monastery boys, and I had often heard from the reverend Father what lying boys some of these very ones were, and as to ⸺ he scarcely ever spoke the truth.
Then, as to poor Sister Janet, she was certainly very eccentric and peculiar, and when any one injured her she usually threatened to “call up the ghost” of her dead father. She once thus threatened a man, and a priest, knowing of it, disguised himself, and frightened the poor man so much, that he refused to go back to the hut where he lived. Apart from this she had her good points, and was Father Ignatius’s devoted slave.
As you will have noticed, the reverend Father was at Slapton Convent during most of the time when the said apparitions took place, and he heard of the visions through the letters of the brother at Llanthony, and I believe he was the only brother at Llanthony at the time, and he was but a novice-monk.
Father Ignatius read the letters to us, and I hardly knew what to make of the matter; but at last the reverend Father returned and saw for himself the most marvellous and glorious vision, after which I very naturally—considering my state of mind at that period of my life—thought it must be true, which in a sense was fortunate for me, for on his next visit he again asked me if I believed in it, and I remember well I replied:
“Yes, certainly, dear Father, I do not doubtyourword.”
He then told us that he was determined that no one should stay in monastery or convent who did not believe in it.
And now a word or two about the story of the “middle-aged lady,” otherwise the Novice-mistress,the account of whose miraculous cure I have already given in the words of Father Ignatius.
To begin with, that account differs somewhat from the one I can give; but as I am matter-of-factin my statements, I think it best to give the facts as I know them, for I was one of the Slaptonnunsat the time. Yes, I was anunthen, although life-vows had not been pronounced by me; I was what is termed a “life-vowed novice,” that is, in making my vows I made them “until the time of my profession.” But I have in a previous part of this book explained that novice-vows were to all intents and purposes well nigh as binding as those made in full profession. I merely give this explanation to show you the position I was in at that period when at Slapton. Father Ignatius, in his oration on the apparitions speaks of me as a nun, for, in touching upon the healing of the Novice-mistress in the Slapton Convent, he said:
“Next she told and showed her sister nuns the miraculous wonder”;i.e., the withered rhubarb leaf. Now, as a matter of fact, sheneither told the nuns, nor showed to them this great wonder; she may have showed and told the Mother Prioress, but no one else.
The Vicar of Slapton came to celebrate, and spoke of the wondrous miracle which had taken place in our midst. (I believe this was on a Saturday, and the miracle of healing had taken place on the previous Tuesday.)
Now, certainly we had been more or less with her all this time, and yet we knew nothing about it; so when the Slapton Vicar gave his address, I was very puzzled to know what he meant.
When the celebration was over, and we had come out of the Chapel, I asked:
“What did the Vicar mean?” and I said to the Mother, “Have you really been cured Mother mistress?” (It was then that I discovered that only the Mother Prioress knew of it.)
“Yes; have you not noticed it,” she replied.
I had to confess that I hadnotnoticed it, and, what is more, I never did, for she still limped, and still does. In fact, I once said, “Mother mistress, is it not strange that our Lady did not quite cure you? It would have been so muchnicer if she had!” She replied, “Yes, but I must be grateful for what she has done.”
Now I really did then believe she had done something, but what it really was I could not make out, as I saw no difference in her whatever. In fact, many times have I seen the poor nun flushed with pain at the exertion of moving. Most probably the abscess had run its course and closed naturally just about the time when the rhubarb leaf arrived; and as to the raising of the limb which she had been unable to do for thirty-eight years, we all know how easy it is for some persons to imagine almost anything. But all I have to say is, she was about the same when I last saw her as when I first saw her; and if any one went to see her, they would see for themselves that she still limps. While she was a novice, she had a bad attack, after which a crutch was procured for her, which she used once or twice, and then went back to her old stick; but both crutch and stick had been given up long before the apparitions, though occasionally she would take the stick to go up the hill with, to the summer-house (and I often wished I hadone, for it was a tiring climb). Nevertheless the stick and the crutch are now laid at the “Shrine of our Lady of Llanthony” as “memorials of God’s wonders!”
I remember how I have looked at this stick and crutch, and thoughts passed through my mind which I need not mention.
Since I finally left the convent, I have been told that a certain young man acknowledged to a priest that he had enacted the whole of the apparition with a magic lantern, and that the priest had written to Father Ignatius, advising him not to say anything more on the subject, or else he would make known how the whole thing came about, or words to this effect. Probably the young man was the railway clerk, who witnessed the boys’ excitement on the subject, for nowhere do you hear of his having seen the apparition himself. Doubtless he was too busy amusing the others. Now I do not say positively the apparitions were produced by a magic lantern, but I was told so, and I think this is the general opinion.
I cannot but add a chapter in which I shall especially endeavour to give a word of counsel and warning to all who may in any degree be looking upon convent life, whether in the Church of England or in the Church of Rome, with a favourable eye. I may say sincerely this book has been written with this object. And if, in doing what seemed to me so bounden a duty, I have hurt the feelings of any who are mentioned in its pages, it was not with the object of doing so that I was led to speak out the truth. My prayer for them is that they may be brought out into the same liberty that I, through God’s infinite mercy, am now in the enjoyment of. I can truthfully say that in doing this I have fully counted the cost, and ithasalready cost me no small amount of pain. I havespoken the truth, and I have endeavoured to do so in no vindictive manner, but in love. Distinctly this book has been written to warn all against making the terrible mistake in life that I made. Had I but listened to and obeyed my mother, her advice would have saved me from wasting (I can use no other word, though God will doubtless overrule this mistake for my own good, and for the good of others) the best and youngest years of my life, and have prevented me from enduring years of mental suffering and misery. But when I went astray on the path that seemed so attractive and pleasant, I was very young; I was but fifteen years of age, and like, I fear, so many young and inexperienced people, I was foolish, self-willed, and fancied that I was better able to judge for myself than others were to judge for me. And so I was led to deliver myself over to the tender mercies of High Church Fathers and Mothers. I was simply bewitched by their “fair speeches,” high professions of sanctity, and solemn assurances of the happiness belonging to the cloistered life.
When I think of such “false prophets,” I amforcibly reminded of the words we read in 2 Timothy iii. 6:
Of these are they thatcreep into houses, and take captive silly women, laden with sins, led away by divers lusts,ever learningandneverable to come to the knowledge of the truth.
Of these are they thatcreep into houses, and take captive silly women, laden with sins, led away by divers lusts,ever learningandneverable to come to the knowledge of the truth.
I was led by Ignatius to believe that by my action I was doing God’s will, and that by leaving my home and relations I was but obeying the command of Christ to “leave all and follow Him.” Was there ever such an absurdity as this? I was not called to go on a mission to the teeming millions living in heathen darkness, and take to them the Gospel of God’s grace; nor yet to work amongst the heathen in our own large towns; but positively to make myself a prisoner in one particular house, to be shut up where I could engage in no Christian or even philanthropic labour, and insuchan isolated position I was told over and over again that I could live the highest, the holiest, and the happiest life on earth, and withal, bring down to the world around me blessings and health through the merits of “holy obedience.” I was taught that I could bless,and be made a blessing to others, by “telling the beads,” “invoking the saints,” “confessing sins to man,” by “hearing mass,” and by “reciting various offices.” What incredible folly!
On looking back, I find how great was my delusion, and I do heartily trust that my experience of this folly may be the means of saving girls and boys, men and women, from wasting so much precious and God-given time, which it was my sad lot to lose. I sowed the seed of blind enthusiasm, and reaped the harvest of untold misery, and blighted hopes. All the high-flown promises (which I so greedily swallowed) of the joy, the glory, the peace, the happiness of the nun’s life, arefalsepromises and vain delusions. Certainly at one of the three convents in which I resided it was (as some of the sisters have said) “like living in a bear-garden.”
I do from the depths of my heart thank God for delivering me out of the “bear-garden,” and I pray that He will deliver others, and give them courage to “come out.”
It needs some courage to enter, but a hundred times as much to leave. I fear in many convents,humanly speaking, it is, after full profession, almost an impossibility to do so, for, as I have said, the moral bolts and bars are even more difficult to break through than the material ones; and these latter are, especially in Roman Catholic convents, not few or easily to be broken through. During all the years spent by me in nunneries I cannot look back toonesister, and say I know she is happy, that she has foundtruepeace and satisfaction; but I can recollect the many who were disappointed at finding the life so utterly different from what they had been led to expect.
Alas! alas! When once we have taken up the “golden plough,” there is virtually no “looking back.” When once we have made our choice, we must abide by it. Many I know bitterly regret that they ever put their hands to this golden or, rather, thisgildedplough.
If nuns were only free, and not conscience-bound, they would tell the self-same, true story which I do. But alas! they dare not speak, they even scarcely dare to think for themselves. Their reason has been given up to their Superiors (doremember this), and they have no right to think anything but what their Superiors think.
It is not your place to think, but to obey.
It is not your place to think, but to obey.
These words were often spoken to us. And again:
A nun is always sure of doing God’s will, because her Superior’s voice is God’s voice to her, and even should I, your Superior, tell you to tell a lie (which of course I should not), you would be committing the sin of disobedience if you did not do as you were told.
A nun is always sure of doing God’s will, because her Superior’s voice is God’s voice to her, and even should I, your Superior, tell you to tell a lie (which of course I should not), you would be committing the sin of disobedience if you did not do as you were told.
I recollect well that a certain dear young sister was told to tell what she believed to be a lie. She was in great distress about it, and went to the Mother Superior we then had, telling her that she did not know what to do, as she must either commit the sin of lying or of disobedience.
When a monk or nun is under vows, such a man or a woman is but atoolto be used as the owner of that tool sees fit. Individuality is sunk in the order in which such vows have been made. Practically, men and women under vows (and it matters not whether these vows are made in the established Church of England or in the alien Church of Rome) aredead—dead to the world,dead to father, mother, sisters, brothers and friends; above all, dead to the “still small voice” of an enlightened conscience which once had power to speak. Yes, they aredeadin another sense of the word, for have they not, knowingly or unknowingly, committed an act of moral suicide? They are no longer responsible beings. They have given up their souls, their bodies, their wills, their consciences and reason itself into the hands of their Superiors, who from the moment those terrible vows are taken are to them in the place of God; and whatever command the Superior gives,thatmust they obey without question and blindly. And should one Superior give a sister over into the hands of another (as was the case with me), then that one must be obeyed with the same blind obedience. We were taught by the Superior:
If the order given is sinful, that ismysin, and you are not responsible; but you would be guilty of greater sin in not obeying, because it would be the sin of disobedience, and God hates that sin more than any other, because it was the sin that brought death into the world, and it will bring death to your soul.
If the order given is sinful, that ismysin, and you are not responsible; but you would be guilty of greater sin in not obeying, because it would be the sin of disobedience, and God hates that sin more than any other, because it was the sin that brought death into the world, and it will bring death to your soul.
Such being the case, we may define a nunnery as a place where slaves drag on a weary existenceday and night. Whilst the slave-owners do their own sweet wills, we, their slaves, must idolatrously bow down to them, kiss the hems of their holy garments, and obey without a murmur. Murmuring at our condition is most strictly forbidden.
Indeed, should the relatives or friends of a poor nun go to the convent and there hold converse with her, that conversation must be held only through a grating, and (in our case, at any rate) the nun must have her face closely veiled. And even then it would not be possible to lodge a complaint with one’s relative or friend, or even with one’s own mother, since another nun is usually sent to listen. Thus it is that we were often forced to appear perfectly happy, when, in truth, we were just the opposite.
I have had thus to appear when speaking to my own sister; my heart at that time was well nigh breaking. But should a nun complain, the training she has gone through would cause her to be very distressed in mind at having been unfaithful enough to bring scandal upon the so-called “religious life,” and she would feel bound to confess it at once to her Mother Superior.
I should have written this account of my experiences of convent life some two years ago, had I not then feared that by doing so I should be doing more harm than good, by exposing to the outside world what a farce and sham some who make so much profession are, to say nothing of what a farce the whole system is.
But, little by little, I have become more free from the chains which held me, and I now trust that this book will do more good than harm by saving others from being led away by the power of Satan, for I believe it to be through Satanic influence that this system exists. I sincerely hope that this book will be read in the spirit in which it is written, and that thus it will be the means of saving many parents from heart-breaking separations from their beloved children.
I would ask those who are not believers in Christianity not to use it in order to bolster themselves up in their atheistical views, or to see in it a proof of the fallacy of true religion. Although I have given up convent religion, yet I am a firm believer in God. I believe that the Lord Jesus Christ died and rose again to atone for and saveHis people from their sins, that the Holy Spirit can and does give to all who believe in Christ a new and a clean heart, and grace to walk in the footsteps of the Saviour.
However misguided I was when I entered in my convent life, yet I was induced to do so because I had a deep love to my Saviour, and thought I could not in a better way prove my love and increase it.
But who can be surprised at a young girl being deluded and led astray when “false prophets” arise, whoprofessso much holiness and so great and exact a knowledge of God’s will?
Many there are, like myself, who have been misdirected and deceived by ritual, candles, flowers, incense, gorgeous vestments, genuflexions, sentimental music and sermons, and I know not what other nonsense. I was seeking Jesus. I asked for bread, but I was given a stone. For a time the excitement arising from convent life made me think I had found what I sought, but it was a vain delusion, as I found to my cost.
There are in English convents to-day many unhappy souls, groping in the dark. Are we tolet them share my fate, and that of others, which may be worse? Nay, rather let us use our pens and voices to awaken and enlighten the men and women of England as to the truth.
Others have exposed conventual life as it exists in the Roman Catholic Church; but still the people of England can scarcely be alive to the fearfully rapid increase in the number of such convents,[24]or of the degrading and un-English and un-Christian nature of the life of a nun therein. It is not my lot to expose Roman Catholic convents; the discoveries I have made have been made in connection with the Church of England, which, alas, through the fearful growth of Ritualism, is becoming a recruiting ground for Rome.
My opinion may not be worth much, but I hold the strong conviction that unless Protestants make a great stir, and unless the bishops of the Church set the example, England, at no very distant period, will be Romanized.
I can point to more than two or three convents in connection with the Established Church where not only Roman Catholic books are in constant use, but where the Roman Catholic Ordinary of the Mass is used, instead of our own Protestant Communion Service; and, worse than all perhaps, I know the Mass was on several occasions celebrated by a Roman Catholic priest in a Church of England convent!!
When I came out of convent life and mixed with Christian people, I discovered that the most earnest workers were those who were in the enjoyment of peace. They were living in the sunlight of God’s love; they were, so to speak, good without knowing it, they had no time to be always thinking of themselves, but they were ever looking to God. Now, in the convent it had been far otherwise; we had been taught by man to try with all our might to be good according to setrules, and ceremonies, and methods handed down to us by Roman Catholic saints, or so-called Fathers of the Church, and to be continually examining and fingering our spiritual muscles to see how we were getting on in the spiritual life. In consequence of such a method, there was constant failure, as there ever will be under such a system.
I feel I have much to be thankful for that God should have led me to see my mistake in life. It wasHiswork, for, in spite of the treatment I received,Istill clung to the convent life. My motive for leaving it was mainly to get away from being misunderstood and misrepresented, and from the endurance of cruel penances. But since then my eyes have been further opened, so that I now totally disagree with the whole system, and I thank God for having so providentially taken me by the hand. He and He alone has delivered me from so many Satanic delusions, and He and He alone has made known to me the “truth as it is in Jesus,” and not in Romish rites and ceremonies. I can and do indeed rejoice in the liberty wherewith Christ has made me free; I am free to serveHim “without fear,” and I am free to let my light shine that others may learn thereby to glorify my heavenly Father.
I thank Him especially for not letting me remain in the convent any longer, wasting time and precious opportunities of doing good and helping others. And I do pray that He will ever keep me in a listening and waiting attitude of mind upon Himself, so that I may “hear what the Lord will speak: for He will speak peace unto His people, and to His saints.” And may He so speak to me that I maynever“turn again to folly.”
That God may use these poor efforts of mine to open the eyes of many, is the prayer of her who, with the man whose eyes the Lord once opened, can say, “Once I was blind, now I see.”
“Manual of Devotions to our Holy Father, St. Benedict, Abbot and Patriarch of the Western Monks; to his Sister, St. Scholastica, Virgin and Abbess; and to all Saints of his Order.” (London: Catholic Publishing and Bookselling Co. Limited.)
Father Ignatius calls himself a Benedictine monk, and his nuns belong to the same order. One would have supposed that though he imitated Rome in the worship of the wafer and of the Virgin, he would still have hesitated to go the full length of Romish superstition by obliging his nuns to put their trust in such questionable characters as Gregory VII., Thomas à Becket, etc. Yet on page 185 of the above book they are required to ask Gregory VII. to pray for them, and on the following page Thomas à Becket is invoked in the same manner. Who and what these two Romish saints were, truthful English history abundantly proves.
As the title of the book shows, it is intended to foster devotion to St. Benedict, to his sister Scholastica, and to all the other canonized saints of the Benedictine Order. Now, who canonized these supposed saints? Was it not Rome?
The first part is entirely devoted to the honouring and invoking of St. Benedict. Throughout this part we frequentlymeet with the verse, “Pray for us, O holy Father St. Benedict.” There are also a number of litanies, in which he is called upon as being now “placed over the choirs of monks,” as “the star of the world,” as “the equal of the prophets,” as “protector of his order,” as “the scourge of devils,” as the “Abraham of the New Testament,” and is entreated with the cry, “We beseech thee to hear us.” On page 47 the following invocation occurs: “Beseeching thee (holy Father St. Benedict) to be so faithfully present to me at the hour of my death, as to oppose thyself on every side where thou shalt see the assaults of the enemy most violently raging against me, that, being defended by thy presence, I may securely escape the snares of the enemy, and arrive at the joys of heaven.”
Similar impieties occur throughout this and the other parts. Thus, in the part devoted to St. Scholastica, on page 131, we find the following collect: “Mercifully look down upon Thy family, we beseech Thee, O Lord, through the merits of Thy blessed Virgin, St. Scholastica; and as by her prayers Thou didst cause the rain to descend from heaven deign, through her supplications,” etc. A number of litanies also occur, in which she is addressed in the most gushing way, and asked to pray for those who thus address her.
Moreover, this book introduces prayers for the dead. Thus, on page 165, the versicle, “May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.”
There are many other superstitious practices contained in the book, notably the medal of St. Benedict, the wearing of which is declared on page 223 to be “a constant silent prayer to God, … that He would have regard to the merits of our holy Father, and for his sake would extend His own protection,” etc.
Sister Mary Agnes says that the whole of this book, with the exception of the part on Indulgences, was in constant use by the nuns under Father Ignatius.
Must not then monasticism be a fostering garden of superstition, since even those who claim to reject Rome resort to the same subterfuges as Rome does to fill the void that must necessarily exist in the aching hearts of all the deluded followers of monasticism?
The next book, under Appendix B, will appear, if possible, even more grossly superstitious than the former.—(Editor.)
“The Exercises of Saint Gertrude, Virgin and Abbess of the Order of St. Benedict.” (London: Burns & Oates.)
In the preface a short account is given of the life of St. Gertrude, which is chiefly a legendary history, and made up of some of the most absurd and ridiculous tales.
“Once, when she was pouring out her whole heart in love to its Divine Spouse, it received the impression of the five wounds of the Divine Redeemer, and Gertrude felt them continually to the moment of her death with an ever-increasing anguish and love.”
Again, “On another occasion, on the Feast of Annunciation, the Mother of God fastened on her breast a heavenly jewel, wherein were seven precious stones.”
Again, we have another still more extraordinary miracle vouchsafed to her; for “once she received in her heart the Divine Infant, who sprang from his crib to attach himself to her.”
Must not such teaching as this be in the highest degree degrading? And must not those who can swallow such stuff be spiritually demented?
It is almost needless to point out that Saint Gertrude is said to have been devoted to the worship of the Virgin Mary. We find the following most blasphemous words onthe subject: “The love of Gertrude towards Mary was in proportion to the tenderness with which the Mother of God regarded the dearest of the Spouses of her Son. Gertrude has bequeathed to us the expression of her devotion to the glorious Queen of heaven in that exquisite prayer which so expressively reveals the deep and touching character of her piety: ‘Hail, fair lily of the effulgent and ever-glorious Trinity! Hail, radiant rose of heavenly fragrance, of whom the King of heaven willed to be born, and with thy milk to be fed, feed our soul with thy Divine insinuations!’” I will only give the last prayer in the book to show how the invocation of supposed saints is inculcated, as in the other book so commonly used in monastic and conventual institutions.
“O God, who hast prepared for Thyself a dwelling-place of delights in the most pure heart of the blessed Virgin Gertrude, deign, we beseech Thee, through her merits and intercession, to wipe away all stains from our hearts, that they may become meet abodes of Thy Divine Majesty, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen!”—(Editor.)
Review of “Visits to the Most Holy Sacrament and the Blessed Virgin Mary. By St. Alphonsus Liguori.”(Published by Burns & Oates.)
This book was sent to me by Sister Agnes, who wrote as follows when forwarding it:
“I send the book which we used daily. It was my constant friend for years; my troubles and sorrows I confided to it. The hymns with the word ‘Ignatius’ at the end are his, but not the others; the writing in the first part of the book, written in MS. on foreign note paper, is taken from St. Alphonsus Liguori, andwas approved of by Ignatius, except the part I have covered over: that he did not approve of. It treats of sinful obedience. I cannot quite make it out. The book it is culled from is, I think, entitled ‘The Religious Life.’”
Before reviewing the book itself, I purpose to place before you a part of the matter “written on foreign note paper,” and stuck carefully into the book, acting as a kind of preface to it, as we may say.
Remember this matter istaken from St. Alphonsus Liguori’s “Life of the Religious.”
“There is no consecration so profound, so entire as that of ‘religious’on the day of their profession, because there isnone so purifying, so constant, or so religious. The consecrationof bishops and priests is more exalted, as being a Sacrament; it is more noble, as conferring a more sublime dignity and ineffable character; yea, it is more powerful, because it imparts to a mere creature some of the powers of God.But it is not so complete as the monasticconsecration, because it does not include a man’s entire separation from himself and from the world; it is not so entire, because it does notabsolutely consume the liberty, the independence, and the spontaneousness of his nature: it is a great sacrifice and a great Sacrament, butnot aTRUE HOLOCAUST.”
I would urge my readers to stay a moment and mark carefully, and inwardly digest this description of a nun’s life. Where is the liberty that is so vainly spoken of? Are we not here told that a nun by her profession has her liberty absolutely consumed; that is to say, she is aprisoner for life?
Notice, I pray you, the words “it is a true holocaust.” In fact, the sin of the children of Israel, who “caused their sons to pass through the fire,” is committed over again. As king Manasseh “caused his children to pass through the fire in the valley of the son of Hinnom,” so under the pretence of offering the nuns to the service of God, the Roman Catholics, and alas! members of the Church of England, “sacrifice their sons and daughters to devils” (Ps. cvi. 37). It is nothing but Moloch worship over again. But to proceed with Liguori’s description of the life of the religious:
“The violation of the vows is then a very grievous sin against the virtue of religion—(it is)the crime of sacrilege. Man, consecrated to God and to His service,becomes something divine; he owes himself, therefore, a religious respect, which rebounds ever to God; and if ever he should dishonour by mortal sin the virtues of poverty, obedience, and virginity,of which he has made profession, he would commit an outrage against the Divine honour, he would be guilty of sacrilege. What rashness! what crime! what impiety would it not be then in you to violate your vows!
“The infidelity of consecrated persons is more awful than the sacrilege committed against holy places, Eucharist vessels, holy pictures, or relics. Your soul would shudder at the mere thought of a desecrated temple, a dishonoured ciborium, a broken crucifix, or of a saint’s body cast into the flames: would it then consent to far more horriblecrimes, or to more infamous violations? Virginity derives not its nobility and worth from itself, but rather because it is an offering to the Lord, inspired and preserved by prudence and piety of the soul.
“If it should happen that a religious, in drawing comparison between his life and that of Christians in the world, should be seized with a holy fear lest he be less zealous, less pure, or less fervent than many of them, he may still find a legitimate reassurance in the thought that his actions, though they may be apparently less virtuous and brilliant, derive, notwithstanding, greater value and more real devotion than theirs from the virtue of religion, which is their chief source, and which has so high a place amongst the more virtuous.”
Do we not see here how a nun is taught to meet what must be an oft-recurring thought—that her life is utterly useless, and that she is unable to devote herself actively to the service of God, and that misery and unhappiness surround her, and that she cannot be so pure as many who, living in the world, are not shut up, so to speak, with only their own heart’s corruptions to brood over. She is taught that all these serious failings are more than atoned for bythe mere fact that she has made a solemn profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience. But to proceed.
“He may be consoled that he has eternally consecrated to the Lord the root of his actions in such a way that they all bear the threefold character of a profound religion, ardent generosity (?), and eternal attachment to that which is good. We may reasonably suppose that on its entrance into religion, by making profession of the vows,the Christian soul obtains remission of all its sins. Not that the religious profession, considered in itself, possesses a sacramental virtue, operating by its own intrinsic and independent office, or that it can, like baptism and penance, blot out the stain of sin; but if it be sincere, it is a most excellent act of perfect charity, which unites us very closely to God, by an effectual outpouring of His sanctifying grace, and by an abundant remission of those temporal punishments which remain due to sin after its guilt has been forgiven.
“Before dismissing this noble subject of religious profession let us not omit to observe that thevow of obedience is its chief feature. That which is done by obedience is more agreeable to God than that which is performed by one’s own will. Your Superior is like a sacred vessel wherein God has placed for us all His desires and graces, and the true proof of religious sanctity, the sure token of perfection, is the perfection ofobedienceto all Superiors.
“Need we add that obedience has its limits. There are, firstly, things forbidden by thelaw of God, which a Superior cannot prescribe without injustice, since, being then no longer subordinate to the Divine will, he can no longer serve as a medium between him and his subject. They are without the pale of obedience, and the Superior has no authority to enforce them. The subject, therefore, is not to act contraryto the law of God, or to the rule which they profess to follow; in such obedience would beillicit.”
I must make a few observations on this matter of obedience. Notice how, by such an obedience, a professed nun (or monk) transfers to an erring mortal the whole responsibility of her actions. She has to find out God’s will through the Superior’s. The Superior is to her in the place of God, and practically his law and order becomes for her God’s law and order. How can she remonstrate, when the Superior commands what is against the law of God, when she has been taught that she can only learn what is God’s law through the medium of the Superior? And if she dared to resist her Superior’s will because she felt it to be leading her astray, do you suppose that the Superior would ever acknowledge himself or herself to be in the wrong? And is it likely that the poor nun would escape some terrible penance for daring to doubt the propriety of any behest?
But the last paragraph, commencing “Need we add that obedience has its limits,” and closing with “Such obedience would be illicit,” was carefully hidden, for Father Ignatius had told his nuns topaste a piece of paper over it, since hecould not agreewith the Romish doctor! He required an absolute and unconditional obedience, and believed it impossible for a Superior to prescribe any law that was against the law of God.
St. Alphonsus Liguori has always been considered an extreme exponent of Romish doctrines; but now we find a man holding orders in the Church of England going even beyond Liguori. I beg my readers to make a special note of this. I will now finish my extracts from the writing on foreign note-paper inserted in the book I am about to review.
“The religious is a person consecratedfor everto the divine service” (mark this “for ever”—a prisoner for life, my friends, nothing more or less), “and who cannot disgrace his high dignity without committing sacrilege. He has solemnly vowed that he will belong to no other but God; he has devoted himself to follow after eternal wisdom in order to become perfect, and the religious, in sinning, has stripped himself of his justice and merits and become a shameful ruin, a horrid corpse.”
(This is enough to frighten a poor, timid girl, and to bind her in chains to her prison.)
“The spiritual dangers of the religious life are not to be attributed to the vows, but rather to the fault, of him who, by changing his mind, transgresses those vows. Do not then, under the pressure ofmost cruel temptations”—(who makes them cruel? Read the experiences of Miss Povey or any other nun who has had the good fortune to escape, or to be turned out of her prison, and you will find out)—“regret the profession you have made in thefulness of liberty”—(remember that previous to profession the Superiors have cunningly woven their entangling web around the nun, and the profession may be compared to the spider, after he has secured his prey,carrying the poor helpless flyinto the inner precincts of his home)—“but rather behave the more diligently to subject your impatient nature to sosalutarya yoke.” Mark the word “salutary.” Is it not a well-attested fact that many nuns go mad from the unnatural confinement within convent walls?
I can only hope to give a very short review of this book, which was placed in the hands of a nun who was a member of the Church of England. I have not time for an elaborate or lengthy account of its contents. I do not think that itwas only at Llanthony that this book was used, and it is to be feared that whilst the Feltham convent is now no longer under the wing of Father Ignatius, yet that, with the exception of unconditional obedience, the teaching there is as extreme and as Romish as at Llanthony, and yet I believe a clergyman, holding a licence to officiate in the diocese of London, acts as chaplain there. How long our bishops are going to allow and wink at this state of things, I know not! May God raise up many faithful men who will demand that the laws of our Protestant Church be complied with!
The above work is one of the so-called devotional books prescribed by Father Ignatius, to be used by the nuns under his control.
It is a Roman Catholic publication, in constant use in all the monastic and other institutions of that Church; was composed in Italian by Liguori, the founder of the Redemptorist Order, translated into English by the Rev. R. A. Coffin, a member of that order, and published by Burns & Oates, the leading Romish publishers in Great Britain.
The nature of this book may be readily ascertained from the fact that it presupposes the consecrated wafer to be really and truly Christ himself, and that it insists upon the Virgin Mary as being the Saviour of every one that is saved. For, in the beginning of the introduction, Liguori says:
“Our holy faith teaches us, and we are bound to believe, that in the consecrated host Jesus Christ is really present under the species of bread”; and, further on, speaking of the visits to the Virgin, he says:
“The opinion of St. Bernard is well known and generally believed. It is that God dispenses no graces otherwise thanthrough the hands of Mary.… Hence, Father Suarez declares that it is now the sentiment of the universal Church that ‘the intercession of Mary is not only useful, but even necessary to obtain graces,’” and he concludes:
“Do you then be also careful to always join to your daily visit to the most blessed Sacrament a visit to the most holy Virgin Mary in some church, or at least before a devout image of her in your own house.”
Hence on page 25 we find a prayer to the Virgin, beginning with the words:
“Most holy immaculate Virgin, and my mother ‘Mary,’” in which she is styled the “queen of the world,” “the hope, the refuge of sinners,” and the following blasphemous expressions are used:
“I worship thee, O great queen, and I thank thee for all the graces which thou hast hitherto granted me; and especially I thank thee for having delivered me from hell, which I have so often deserved.… I place all my hopes in thee, and I confide my salvation to thy care, etc.”
Hence throughout the book occur such expressions as the following:
“Sole refuge of sinners, have mercy on me.” “O Mary, grant me the grace always to have recourse to thee.” “Hail, our hope.” “My hope, help me.” “Therefore, my lady, and my hope, if thou dost not help me, I am lost.” “All who are saved obtain salvation through thee; thou then, O Mary, hast to save me,” and the like.
Extracts might be piled upon extracts, but enough have been given to show the nature and tendency of the book. Yet this book the nuns, under Father Ignatius’s jurisdiction, are induced to keep as a constant companion.
It does not seem necessary to say anything further on thehead of this book: for its antichristian nature must be apparent to all students of the pure word of God. In Christ alone is salvation, and He alone is our Mediator between God and man.—(Editor.)