Chapter IV: Part 4

I am apprehensive that some will accuse me of levity in my manner of alluding to Puseyism. Others will say that I should have mentioned no names, or, if I did, I should have treated them with respect and kindness. Far be it from me to treat a grave subject lightly; but when I see the whole Christian world represented as profligate and the Popish world alone represented as sinless and pure, by the authors of Puseyism, I can scarcely treat such a false representation and perversion of truth otherwise than with contempt and irony; and when I bring before the public the names of some of the individuals who have merited this, by exhibiting themselves as the authors and abettors of these gross outrages upon all that is sacred among men and among nations, I only do them justice. Are acts alone, and not their consequences, to be noticed? Are we to take cognizance of effects, and pass by in silence their causes? Are we to wage a seven years' war against Ward's _Ideal of a Christian Church_, and against other ideals of moonstricken dreamers, and say not a word of the dreamers themselves, or the consequences that follow from them? Suppose we had here in Boston, or New York, the hydrophobia; suppose a citizen were in pursuit of the mad dog which introduced it; would any of my readers say to the citizen, never mind the dog, let him go but take care of the hydrophobia? Assuredly not the name, the color, the appearance of the dog, and the symptoms of his madness, should be proclaimed to the public, lest he might scatter the hydrophobia still further amongst them. Suppose an incendiary was seen on the streets of one of our large and populous cities, say, for instance, Boston or New York, and that our police officers were in pursuit of him; let us fancy a crowd of sympathizers interfering and saying to the officers, let that man alone; pursue him no farther; do not even mention that he is an incendiary; it may be the cause of sending him to gaol, or, perhaps, to the state prison for life; say nothing to any one against him,--but take care of fires. See well to it that the city is not burned. What, under these circumstances would be thought of the sympathizers? Who would feel for them if the city was reduced to ashes? Who would feel for them if their homes were rendered desolate, and their wives and children made houseless. I would not check the generous or natural flow of human sympathy, but I do not know that I should do wrong in saying, that such men deserved no commiseration.

Under these circumstances, why should I be accused of treating a grave subject lightly or ironically? Never did the witty Lord Shaftsbury utter a plainer truth than when he said, that ridicule is one of those principal lights or natural mediums by which things are to be viewed, in order to a thorough recognition.

I am aware that there are many objections to the use of ridicule and irony, in speaking on grave subjects; but, as Fielding very properly observes, there can be no objection to making use of its assistance in expelling and banishing all falsehood and imposture when once fairly detected; and as this method is for my present purpose unexceptionable, I think it will also prove efficacious.

Having perused the dreams, or, if the reader prefers it, opinions of the holy fathers, and taken a glance at those of a new sect amongst us called Puseyites,--which is but another name for Popery,--I could see no reason why I should believe them of higher authority than the Scriptures, or why I should not prefer the latter for my rule of faith. The holy fathers of the church of Rome, and her unbaptized children, Puseyites, seem to me of equal authority. I say unbaptized, because I know not that their reputed parents, the Pope and his spouse, the church of Rome, ever thought of such a thing as Puseyite. I am rather inclined to think that the venerable couple are, up to this moment, unconscious of having any paternity whatever in Puseyism. At any rate, their holy fathers, such as Mr. Ward, Newman and others, appear to me as _demented and clean daft_ as any that ever existed in the middle ages. The "Knight of Cervantes," as a late number of the London Quarterly expresses it, "never abandoned himself to delirious musings, on the faded glories of chivalry, more madly than these sentimentalists to visions of Popish powers, and the glories of the saints."

The Bible was with them a matter of minor consideration. I knew by experience that it was so; and I know that it is so at the present day, with every priest and bishop of the Romish church. I was aware then, as I am now, that it was perfectly useless to attempt reasoning with them, and I had, of course, no alternative left but to cast from me their writings and doctrines, as the veriest trash that ever was written, and seek from the Bible, the fountain of truth, instructions for my future life. I looked upon the majority of the holy fathers either as notorious blockheads or dishonest knaves. There is no alternative. There is not even a medium.

But to return to the subject, from which I have so widely, though unconsciously deviated.

Soon after my arrival in Philadelphia, I became acquainted with a Protestant family. I had the pleasure of dining occasionally with them, and could not help noticing a seemingly delicate young man who waited at the table. There was something in the countenance and whole appearance of this individual which struck me as singular. I could see no indication of positive wickedness or signal depravity in the external configuration of the young man's head. The expression of the eye indicated meekness, humility, and habitual obedience, rather than anything else; but I could see, nevertheless, in the closely-compressed lips and furtive glance, which I could only occasionally catch,--and even then by a sort of stealth,--something that puzzled me. I know not why, but I could not like him. There was no cause, as far as I could see, why I should dislike the young man. Constitutionally, I was myself rather fearless than otherwise. I cannot recollect that, with equal means of defence, I ever before feared any one, I do not desire to be considered a braggadocio, nor do I make this assertion with any such view. I have not in my composition,--if I know myself,--a single particle of bravery, neither do I covet its possession. I have often seen men of bravery tremble at the roaring of a lion, caged up and strongly chained in a menagerie. I have often seen and heard a brave man whistle as he passed through a church-yard; a brave man will shudder and quail at the very sight of his own shadow. A bully, a cut throat, a highway robber, a Jesuit, or a traitor, may be brave; conspirators against the peace and prosperity of their country may be, and have been, brave men. I desire not to belong to this class; but I desire sincerely to merit the high distinction of being considered a man of courage. To this class all sincere Christians belong. To this class all who were distinguished for virtue and morality, even among the heathens, belonged. Witness the conduct of Cicero. He sought to shelter himself against the violent assaults and personal attacks of the conspirator Catiline; he wished no unnecessary, uncalled-for collision with this blood-thirsty villain, when no good could follow, and his duty did not require it. But when the good of his country demanded it, and the voice of conscience called upon him, Cicero came forth, alone, and met the conspirator, Catiline, in the presence of the whole senate of Rome, and charged him, face to face, with his crimes, his treason, and his conspiracy. Cicero was not a brave man, according to the acceptation of the word bravery among the assassins and stiletto-bearers of his day, nor would he be considered so in the acceptation of the word among the brawling _repealers_ O'Connellites, traitors and conspirators of the present day; but he was a man of courage.

There is a wide difference between a brave man, and a man of courage. A brave man may stand at the mouth of the cannon, while under the influence of some animal emotion, and quail even at an imaginary danger; but a courageous man smiles at all such things, and calmly prepares, and is always ready to meet those that are real. A man may be brave, and fear the whistling of the wind; but a courageous man fears nothing, not even the whistling of the cannon's ball.

Luther was not a brave man, in the modern acceptation of that term. He rushed not among his foes; they hunted him like a wild beast, but they turned him not from his path. He met them face to face. He unfurled the standard of Christianity; he took his stand, and met them, and fought them under that glorious banner. He was not brave, but he was a man of courage.

These are the men I should like to imitate, and their courage,--"_Sic magna com parvis componere solebam_"--is that which Popish priests and Jesuits, traitors to their God and this country of my adoption, will find I possess, as far as my limited powers of mind or body will permit.

Cicero looked Catiline in the face, and told him he was a conspirator and a traitor. Luther looked the miracle and indulgence mongers of Germany in the face, and told them they were base idolaters; and I tell the minions of the Pope in the United States, that they are worthless idolaters, traitors and conspirators against the peace of this country, and that their sovereign lord, the Pope of Rome, should be made to feel that his bulls and insolent interference in the affairs of the United States, shall soon meet that chastisement which is due to treason and its abettors.

But to return. I could never find the eye of this man fixed upon me without an involuntary feeling of dread. I met him often in the streets; he always seemed neat and tidy in his person; he was civil and respectful in his deportment; never seemed to forget that society had its grades, and that circumstances had clearly designated his own. With that he seemed well contented; never, as far as I could see, seeming to feel the least desire of intruding upon that of others. This being rather a rare case in the United States, twenty years ago, at any rate, when it was difficult to get servants who knew their places, struck me as another singular feature in his manner and character, and did not at all tend to remove the unpleasant impressions which his appearance made upon my mind. Not long after this, a messenger called at my rooms to say that "Theodore------" was taken ill, and wished to see me. I was then officiating as a Romish priest, and calling to see him, was shown up stairs to the door of a garret room, into which, after a loud rap and announcing my name, I was admitted to the sick young man. He had returned to his bed before I entered, and was wrapped in a large overcloak. I asked him whether he wanted to see me, and for what purpose. He deliberately turned out of his bed, locked the door again, very respectfully handed me a chair, and asked me to sit down, as he had something very important to tell me. He wrapped himself again in his cloak, lay on the outside of the bed, and spoke to me in a firm, decided tone to the following effect:

"Sir, you have taken me for a young man, but you are mistaken. I am a girl, but not so young as 1 appeared to you in my boy's dress. I sent for you, because I want to get a _character_, and confess to you before I leave the city." I answered, "You must explain yourself more fully before you do either." I moved my chair further from the bed, and tightened my grasp upon a sword-cane which I carried in my hand. "Feel no alarm," said this now young woman; "I am as well armed as you are,"--taking from under her jacket an elegant poignard,--"I will not hurt you. I am a _lay sister_ belonging to the order of Jesuits in Stonyhurst, England, and I wear this dagger to protect myself." There was no longer any mystery in the matter. I knew now where I was, and the character of the being that stood before me. I discovered from her that she arrived in New. Orleans, some time previous, with all necessary recommendations to the priests and nuns of that city. She had the necessary "Shibboleth" from the Jesuits of Stonyhurst, to their brothers and sisters, who were then, and are now, numerous in that city. They received her with all due caution, as far as could be seen by the public; but privately in the warmest manner. Jesuits are active and diligent in the discharge of their duties to their superiors, and of course, this _sister_, who was chosen from among many for her zeal and craft, lost no time in entering on her mission. The _Sisters of Charity_ in New Orleans took immediate charge of her, recommended her as chambermaid to one of the most respectable Protestant families in the city; and having clothed her in an appropriate dress, she entered upon her employment. She was active, diligent and very competent. The young ladies of the family were delighted with her; she appeared extremely pious, but not ostentatiously so. She seemed desirous to please in all things; talked but seldom of religion, but took good care that her devotional exercises should be noticed, though she seemed to avoid such a thing. Her conduct was in every way unexceptionable. So great a favorite did she become in the family, that in a short time she became acquainted with all the circumstances and secrets, from those of the father down to those of the youngest child.

According to a custom universally in vogue among the Jesuit spies, she kept notes of every occurrence which may tend to elucidate the character of the family, never carrying them about her, but depositing them for safe keeping with the mother abbess, especially deputed to take charge of them. She soon left this family under some pretext or other, obtained from them an unqualified recommendation for honesty and competency, which, with the previous and secret arrangements of the _Sisters of Charity_, obtained for her without delay a place in another Protestant family. Here, too, she was without fault, active, honest and industrious, to all appearance. Little did these families, know that while they and their children were quietly reposing in the arms of sleep, this apparently innocent waitingmaid or chambermaid was, perhaps, in the dead hour of night, reducing to paper their conversation of the day previous, and preparing it, at least as much of it as could answer any Jesuitical purpose, to be recorded among the secret archives of the Jesuit college of Stonyhurst, from which they were to be transcopied to those of the parent college in Rome.

Thus did this lay sister continue to go from place to place, from family to family, until she became better acquainted with the politics, the pecuniary means, religious opinions, and whether favorable or not to the propagation of Popery in this country, than even the very individuals with whom she resided. No one suspected her; all believed her innocent and industrious; the only fault they could find with her, was that she seemed too fond of going from one place to another. For this, however, the _Sisters of Charity_ had some salvo or other.

This was not the best of the joke, if joke it may be called. This excellent chambermaid, or another lay Jesuit sister, wished to leave New Organs and come north to a better climate; and how-do you think, reader, the means were raised to defray the expenses of travelling? There was no difficulty in the matter. Americans can be gulled at all times. The _Sisters of Charity_ have always some friend in readiness to supply them with the means of performing _corporal works of mercy_. This friend went round to these American families where this chambermaid lived from time to time; told them that she wanted to come on as far as Baltimore; that it was a pity to have her travel as a steerage passenger; a person of her virtue and correct deportment should not be placed in a situation where she might be liable to insult or rude treatment. A cabin passage should be procured for her: she should be introduced to some respectable family who were going north, and would take charge of her. The necessary funds were immediately collected for her; the generous Protestants with whom she lived, pitying the poor girl, told her she might want the little she had earned to support herself in the north, until she could get a place. A handsome purse was soon made up, a cabin passage was engaged, and the young ladies on whom she waited made her presents of every article of dress necessary for her comfort or convenience. She was the depository of all their love-stories,--she knew the names of their lovers, she heard their love-sighs, and probably witnessed many of their tears; at all events, if there were secrets among them, they were known to her; and having made herself acquainted with the state of things in New Orleans, she started for Baltimore, laughing in her sleeves at the success of her mission so far, and at the credulity of American _dolts_, as Jesuits very properly term them.

On arriving in Baltimore, she, of course, called upon the nuns of that city, who were prepared for her reception, and had already a situation engaged for a "chambermaid whom they expected from New Orleans, and who was coming highly recommended by some of the first families in that city." She took possession of a place as soon as convenient, spent several months in that city, discharging all her duties faithfully, no one finding any fault with her, except her restlessness in not staying long with any family. Having now become acquainted with the secrets and circumstances of almost every Protestant family of note in Baltimore, and made her report to the mother abbess of the nunnery of her order in that city, she retired to the District of Columbia, and after advising with the mother abbess of the convent, she determined to change her apparent character and appearance.

By advice of _that venerable lady, the holy prioress_, on whom many of the wives of our national representatives, and even grave senators, look as an example of piety and chastity, she cut short her hair, dressed herself in a smart-looking waiter's jacket' and trowsers, and, with the best recommendations for intelligence and capacity, she, in her new dress, applied for a situation as waiter at Gadsby's Hotel in Washington city. This smart and tidy-looking young man got instant employment; and now we have the lay sister in quite a different character. His intelligent countenance,--we must not say her in future,--soon attracted the notice of some of our most eloquent statesmen. He appeared so humble, so obedient and so unattentive to anything but his own business, that those senators on whom he waited, not suspecting that he had the ordinary curiosity of servants in general, were entirely thrown off their guard, and in their conversations with one another seemed to forget their usual caution. Such in a short time was their confidence in him, that their most important papers and letters were left loose upon their tables, satisfied with saying, as they were going out, "Theodore, take care of my room and papers."

Now the Jesuit was in her glory. Now the lay sister had an opportunity of knowing many of our national secrets, as well as the private characters of some of our eminent statesmen. Now it was known whether Henry Clay was a gambler; whether Daniel Webster was a libertine; whether John C. Calhoun was an honorable but credulous man. Now it was known what value was put upon Popish influence in this country, and what were the hopes of Papist foreigners in the United States. In fact, this lay sister in male uniform, and but a waiter in Gadsby's Hotel, was thus enabled to give more correct information of the actual state of things in this country, through the General of the Jesuit Order in Rome, than the whole corps diplomatic from foreign countries then resident at our seat of government.

After relating to me in her sick room,--as the family in which she lived fancied it was,--all these circumstances, she deliberately said to me, "I want a written character from you. You must state in it that I have complied with my duty; and as it is necessary that I should wear a cap for a while, having cut off my hair, you must say that you visited me in my sick room, that I confessed to you, received the _viaticum_ and had just recovered from a violent fever in which I lost my hair. My business is not done yet," said she. "I must go to New York, where the Sisters of Charity will find a place for me as waiting-maid." It is needless to say with what reluctance any man could comply with such a request as this; and my having done so, is a stronger evidence than I have heretofore given of the indomitable strength of early education.

The conduct of this emissary of Satan, was the embodyment of all that was iniquitous and dishonorable; it was a violation of every tie that holds society together; it was a part of a system of social, political, moral, public and private treachery, which no other being than a devil or a Jesuit could devise. Yet I was a Popish priest. My education, my profession, my oath, compelled me to sanction it; and I did sanction it. The lay sister retired to New York, put on her female dress, and during some months following, acted as a chambermaid in several of the wealthiest Protestant families in that city. A few weeks after she obtained from me this character, the Rev. Mr.---------, (I will give his name in full if necessary,) President of the Jesuit college in Stonyhurst, to which I have alluded, and where this demon, now in petticoats, was a lay sister, called on me in Philadelphia. We were old acquaintances, he being Vice President of the college of Maynooth for about twelve months.

The misunderstanding between myself and the acting superior of the diocese of Pennsylvania, had just commenced, and my friend, the Jesuit, thought it his duty to call upon me. He hoped that I would abandon my schismatic course,--I was not then a heretic,--and cease to circulate the Bible among the people. He never alluded to the lay sister during our whole conversation, though he was the very man who caused her to be sent out to this country, and the one who first procured her the situation of lay sister at Stonyhurst Both were relatives, and both natives of Dublin, in Ireland.

Whether the relation of this circumstance will have the effect of putting Americans on their guard against Jesuits and nuns, I know not; and in truth, such is their apathy on the general subject of Popery, that I am tempted to say, I care not. My impression is, that until some attack is made upon an American's purse, and Popery becomes a question of dollars and cents, Jonathan will never be roused from his apathy. So far as I know Americans, as the antagonists of Popery, they will listen to no argument upon the subject, either in their national councils or in their pulpits, except to the one great argument, the "_Argumentum ad crumonam._" I will only say, "_Qui vult descipatur_."

It is unnecessary, I presume, to remark here, that the conduct of the modern fathers of the Popish church, in sending to this country the lay sister of whom I have been speaking, and encouraging her as a spy amongst our citizens, did not tend much to diminish my doubts about the veracity of the ancient fathers.

Providentially, however, another circumstance occurred, which finally decided me. It is of so atrocious a character, that if there were not several now living, who witnessed the whole transaction, I would scarcely mention it; or if I did, it could be with little or no hope of being believed by Americans, although some money is mixed up with the affair.

There lived in Philadelphia, about the year 1822 or 1823, a gentleman of high character as a sea captain and otherwise. He commanded an East-Indiaman, belonging to one of the wealthiest houses in that city. One of the firm now lives there, though at an advanced period of life. This captain of whom I speak, was in the habit of visiting Baltimore, whenever he returned from the East Indies. He was a remarkably fine-looking man, and believed to be worth from one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand dollars. He shipped largely upon his own account, and was successful.

While in Baltimore, he formed an attachment for a Roman Catholic lady of beauty, but no fortune.

The Reverend Mr. K------, the Stonyhurst Jesuit, whom I mentioned, happened to be there during one of the captain's visits to that city, to see this lady. The Jesuit having discovered who the captain was, what he was, and how much money he was worth, obtained an introduction to him from this Roman Catholic lady. He soon found that, like most men whose lives have been spent upon the sea, he was a frank, open-hearted man. A little further intimacy satisfied him, that he was deeply in love with this Popish lady. His course was now clear. The Jesuit serpent saw plainly that his prey was within striking distance; that he need only coil himself into a proper attitude and spring upon it at his leisure. He represented to the captain, that the lady to whom he was paying his attentions was one of the most amiable and excellent of her sex; highly approved of the captain's taste and judgment; with many other such observations. The captain was more and more pleased with the object of his affections, and urged his suit with increased assiduity. The Jesuit in the mean time was not idle; his eye rested with a serpent-like fascinating gaze upon the movements and money of the captain. He had private interviews with the lady. He contrived to have her become his _penitent_, and go to confession to him. 15

His control over her in future was boundless. She lost her identity as a member of society. She almost ceased to be a human being; a rational one she could not be. She became a thing, a mere thing to be shaped and moulded as her holy father the Jesuit directed. He spoke to her of the captain, of his great attachment to her, and recommended to her to marry him, but on condition that he should become a Roman Catholic. He talked eloquently of the awful consequences of having a member of the _infallible_ church unite herself to a heretic, whom she knew to be excommunicated and damned by the Pope and the holy church, as all heretics are, and finally obtained from the young lady a solemn promise that she should never marry her suitor, until he became a member of the church of Rome.

When the captain next called to see her, the lady told him that she had one objection, and only one, to marrying him; unless that was removed, she could never consent to do so; and stated to him what that objection was. The unsuspecting and frank sailor, not being a professor of any religion, and caring very little to what church he might go, replied, that he would as soon be a Roman Catholic as anything else. All things were now arranged, except the formality of uniting with the Popish church. The Jesuit was sent for, and it was agreed that the marriage should take place in a few weeks, during which time the captain, under the direction of the Jesuit, was to prepare himself for confession; a necessary preliminary for joining the Popish church.

It is a custom with Jesuits, and almost with all priests of the Romish church, to require of those who are about uniting with them, to go into what they call a retreat; viz. to enter into some retired or secluded place, where they will have an opportunity of communing with themselves, without interruption from the world or its busy citizens. The Jesuit recommended to his unfortunate dupe, the captain, to retire to--------convent, where he might be alone as much as he pleased, and where he would hear nothing but songs of praise to the Most High God, from _blessed monks and nuns_.

The captain, according to orders, entered upon his retreat. Before I proceed further, I will observe that this captain, of whom I am speaking, had a remarkably beautiful set of teeth, of which it was said he was extremely vain. He was not many days upon his retreat, when symptoms of derangement became evident; and one day, while under the influence of some natural or artificial cause--the reader may guess which--the unfortunate gentleman went down to Alexandria, called upon a dentist in that city or neighborhood, and insisted that he should pull out seven teeth from each jaw. In vain did the dentist remonstrate; out they must come, and out they did come.

The Jesuit hastened to Baltimore, called upon the lady who was engaged to be married, told her the captain was insane, beyond recovery, and that she should be thankful to the Virgin Mary, who caused this visitation in time to prevent her from being married to a madman. Judge you, Americans, of the feelings of this lady on that occasion, and say what ought to be the punishment of the incarnate fiend who occasioned them. The poor captain, though considerably recovered, continued to be partially deranged; but it assumed a character of religious gloom and melancholy. The Jesuit returned to--------, seeming to do all in his power to lighten the spiritual load which lay upon the captain's soul. He became his confessor, and soon persuaded him that the only way of saving his soul, was to convey to the order of Jesuits what property he possessed, and to become a Popish priest; that he had a visit from the Virgin Mary, who ordered him to tell him--the captain--that he must take holy orders; that there was a grand field opened for him to promote the cause of religion and the saints; that he must go forthwith to Philadelphia, where an infamous heretic called Hogan was spreading most damnable heresies. Will you believe it, Americans? It is drawing almost too heavily upon you to do so. He did come to Philadelphia, and preached against the heretic Hogan and Hoganism, a fact which fifty thousand people now living there can attest. But _quantum mutatus!_ When he left it some time before, he was a happy, honorable and fine-looking man. He was wealthy, and he obtained his wealth by honest industry. But how was he now, the distorted shadow of what he was; penniless, toothless, and a senseless fanatic, drugged into madness, and by whom?--by nuns, who act in the treble capacity of cooks, teachers, and prostitutes for Jesuits. This is harsh language indeed. Call it gross, if you please, reader; but if you will figure to yourself for a moment an honorable man, a native of these United States, a fine specimen of manly proportions and manly beauty, and then conceive this individual reduced to the condition to which I and thousands now living have seen this noble-hearted sailor of whom I have spoken, reduced, my language will appear neither harsh nor coarse.

What! must we call Jesuit assassins reverend gentlemen? Must we call robbers honest men? Must we call their accessories--nuns--ladies of virtue? Sympathizers may do so; but I do not write for them alone. I write for men of sense; I write for lovers of their God and their country; I write not for advocates of Puseyism, or such exploded fooleries as they believe in. Whatever I say, is intended for those alone who have the capacity of distinguishing between common sense and mental vagaries, and who have the honesty to call things by their proper names.

The first sermon which this unfortunate man preached against me in Philadelphia, was attended by crowds. Many had known him before he went to Baltimore. He was then universally popular, and on his return among them he was well received. His friends saw the change--the fatal change--which had taken place in his whole external configuration; but they knew not by what means it was effected. Some attributed it to self-denial, others to fanaticism, but none to the right cause. This was known only in the confessional; and under all these circumstances, it may be easily supposed that his discourses against me, however unconnected they may be, however fugitive and irrelevant as a whole, had a powerful effect upon the public mind.

Public sentiment, which up to this period sustained me in my opposition to Popery, and in my efforts to circulate the Bible, now began to flag. Popish priests and bishops went about industriously representing that this reverend convert to Popery was inspired; reported that he had visits from saints and angels, attesting the fact of his inspiration. There was no difficulty in persuading a man of his shattered constitution and now weak mind, that such was the fact; and he redoubled his efforts in trying to persuade those who attended my church, and who were becoming readers of the Bible, never to do so again. His disordered mind often "saw me in hell, side by side with Luther, and the blessed Virgin spitting in our face." "He often saw me with Ignatius Loyola, who was breaking me on the rack as a punishment for my heresies." The utterance of those wild rhapsodies were not without their effect; almost all the poor Irish Papists believed them; and it required from me more bodily and mental labor than I was able to endure, to counteract the effects of this madman's rhapsodizing.

I am now so well acquainted with the character of American Protestants, and even with American converts to the Romish church, that I know it is difficult to persuade them that the Romish priests of Philadelphia, or other parts of the United States, were so utterly abandoned to degeneracy, as to give credence to these Visions or visits from saints, which I have just spoken of. But let them recollect that practices upon popular credulity are now carried on, and were then carried on, upon as large a scale, as at any period in the existence of the Romish church. Such impositions are encouraged all over the world, even at the present day. The wildest extravagances of intellect have circulated freely for the last thirty years in the world. Read Eugene Sue. He tells us of numerous instances of the kind. Read the last edition of Genin, page 82, and you will find an account of the Medal of the _Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary_, struck only the other day, 1838. Over _two hundred thousand copies_ of this medal have been already sold. The story is this, as now vouched for by the most eminent holy fathers of the infallible church:--That the Virgin Mary showed herself to one of the _Sisters of Charity_ in France, a branch of which holy sisterhood we have in this city of Boston, the capital of New England, and revealed to her the pattern of a medal to be struck for her; the dress she was to appear in, and the kind of rings she was to wear.

This medal has cured, and is now curing, according to the accounts we receive from the holy fathers, all manner of diseases, such as paralysis, epilepsy, cancer, and, according to the belief of some Puseyite moral philosophers, it causes the blind to see, the dumb to speak, and the lame to walk. A capital story is related of the potency of this medal. It is too good to be omitted, especially as many of my Puseyite friends believe it, and no doubt will be glad to hear it repeated.

A Sister of Charity got acquainted with a married couple. The wife was a Papist of the most exemplary character, obedient to holy Mother the church, and her confessor, in all things. The husband had no faith, especially in his wife's confessor. He drank, cursed and swore, "like all possessed." The holy Sister of Charity, seeing him at the point of death, and wishing to rescue his soul from hell, called to see him, and slipped one of these medals between the sheets of this wicked man's bed, and the next morning he gets up as well as ever and goes to confession. Another miracle which was performed by this medal in 1838, deserves notice, and may prove invaluable, if it finds its way into this country. One Marie Laboissiere, aided by her lover, murdered her husband, and forced her son to take part in the murder, to prevent him from being witness against her. The lady and her lover were, however, arrested, tried, and found guilty of the murder. They appealed to a higher tribunal. During the interval between the sitting of the higher and lower courts, one of the Sisters of Charity threw a medal round Marie's neck, and though the court and all saw that she was guilty, and ought to be judicially declared so, they could not do it. The medal would not let them, but obliged them to acquit her. If the reader will take into consideration that such visions as the Rev. Captain fancied he had, were matters of every-day occurrence with pious Papists, and that a belief in them is encouraged and enforced by Popish priests and bishops everywhere, they will cease to be surprised that a man tortured into madness, as my reverend antagonist was, should have visions such as those ascribed to him; nor will they wonder at the effect of his preaching, upon a congregation principally composed of Irish and French Papists.

I was alone, without a clerical friend; not a Protestant preacher, with the exception of one, raised his hand or his voice in my support. They seemed to like the fun, as some of them expressed it, amongst the Papists,--I suppose they considered me one then,--but they came not to my aid. They appeared to me pretty much like the wife when she saw her husband fighting with a bear, and was expected to interfere, but very coolly replied, "I don't care which of them gets licked."

Under these circumstances, I felt discouraged; became utterly disgusted with Popery and its infamous practices, with the holy fathers and their fooleries, and resolved in future to have no more to do with Popery. I collected such volumes as I had of the holy fathers, piled them up into one heap, added to them the lives of the saints, and placing on the top of the pile the Pope's bull of excommunication, which the poor old man thought would frighten me out of my wits, I consigned them, book by book, volume by volume, together with the aforesaid bull, to the warm embraces of a good hickory fire. I knew the day was not far distant, when Americans would see something besides fun in Popish quarrels; and in the mean time, I determined to employ myself in the study of Blackstone, Chitty, &c.; a much more profitable employment, in a pecuniary point of view, than fighting in the cause of American Protestants with European Papists.

It was said of Erasmus, that he laid the egg of the reformation, and that Luther hatched it. I trust it will not be deemed vanity in me to say that I have done as much for American Protestants, as Erasmus did in his day. At least, I have done all I could; but whether they or any of them will do as Luther has done, time alone can decide.

In this connection, it is not improper for me to state the ultimate fate of this reverend convert to the Romish church. After I retired from Philadelphia, and Hoganism was put down, the Jesuits measurably neglected their convert; a thing very unusual with them, to do them justice. He felt the loneliness of his situation. With a mind enfeebled by drugs, a correct view of his situation could only strike him by glances; but they were terrible and fearful. He saw himself robbed of the one beloved object of all his earthly affections; plundered of a fortune, the fruit of honorable toil and industry. He saw in himself but the mutilated skeleton of what he once was, and the dupe of crafty Jesuits and licentious nuns. He shrunk from the view, and as if God, in his mercy, wished to hide it from him' by means which may appear to us incomprehensible, he fell into fits of real madness, from which he recovered but occasionally. The last I have heard of him was that he was arrested somewhere near Newcastle, Delaware, for attempting to commit a rape on a child nine years old; but the poor maniac was acquitted on the ground of insanity. Several priests were called as witnesses in his behalf; and well they may be witnesses. It was they that caused him to be what he was; it was they that maddened him.

Those who are not familiar with crime, whose hands are unstained by blood, and whose consciences have not been seared and discolored by the blackness of guilt, may hesitate to give credence to these disgusting details. Comparatively short as our national existence is, and though brief the period since we cut loose as a nation from what we deemed the polluted governments of Europe, still there was a time, even in these United States, when such deeds as I have related would not and could not be believed amongst us. There was a time when the ancient Romans did not think that there existed such a crime as patricide; and hence it is. that there was no law against it. There was actually no punishment known to their laws for the commission of such a crime; and why, reader? Did the ancient Romans encourage their children to kill their parents, or to commit patricide? No. Far from it. No people in the world venerated their parents more than the Roman children of the day to which I allude. They had no law against the crime, because they did not believe it possible that such a crime could be committed. Nor is it to be wondered now, that many Americans should consider it almost impossible that such deeds as I have laid to the charge of Jesuits and nuns, should be perpetrated amongst us. But time, that exponent of all things, will soon satisfy our people--as it did the Romans before us--that there is nothing impossible, or even beyond the range of Jesuitical iniquity. The archives of Jesuitical intrigue are now in a measure being thrown open to the world. The diffusion of literature is so general, and human curiosity, at the present period, so great, that nothing can escape its searching inquiries. It is therefore to be hoped that our people will not be much longer in ignorance of the iniquities of Jesuits. Americans can now learn from historical evidence, which admits of no doubt, that Jesuits have been expelled, successively, from thirty-nine different governments; they can also learn, that by intrigue, deception, perjury and poison, they have survived each and every one of those expulsions. They may see,--if they can see anything but money,--that the Jesuits are now making a final struggle for a settlement in this country; and if they are not so stupid as not to see that similar causes must produce similar events, they will infer that Jesuits, who have successively and effectually introduced disunion, discord, and disorganization into thirty-nine governments, cannot fail to do the same in ours. If by poison and assassination they have dethroned the rulers of other countries; if by debauchery and superstition in the confessional, they have seduced their wives and daughters, can it be supposed that our rulers shall escape, our government be secure, or our wives and daughters safe from the daggers or subtle poisons of these notorious fiends?

Let any American take the "Wandering Jew,"--let him read it attentively, and reflect that the writer, Eugene Sue, is a Roman Catholic now living in France,--and say whether there is any crime too daring for a Romish priest or Jesuit. If he doubts what I relate of a young lady in the beginning of this book, who was debauched by a Romish priest, and poisoned by a nun, the mother abbess of a Jesuit seminary of learning, to get rid of her illicit offspring; let him see the history of Charlotte De Cordoville, in the Wandering Jew. He will see in the history of that young lady, distinguished though she was for fortune, beauty and charity, how she was reduced to misery and unhappiness, by the intrigues of Jesuits. You will see how her own aunt was made the instrument of all her misfortunes; but the aunt was first made a Jesuit, and in that capacity she disregarded honor, truth, the relationship of blood, and all the alliances of natural friendship. She caused her to be imprisoned and maltreated. She and her associate Jesuits caused herself and her lover to be poisoned or drugged into an insane stupor;--all for the glory of the infallible church, and with a view of adding to its ill-gotten treasures. For a full account of this transaction, see Eugene Sue.

But Romish priests will not permit their people to read Eugene Sue; it is a forbidden book; his royal holiness, the Pope, has cursed the book and all who read it. He has cursed all who presume to discuss fairly the merits of Popery; but even this will scarcely be believed by Americans. Strange infatuation! Will Americans read a report made to the French Chambers in Paris, by the Duke de Broglie, on the subject of public instruction and Jesuitism? Will they further read a small work written by Messrs. Michelet and Quinet, professors in the French national college? If they do, it may open their eyes to consequences which may be apprehended from even tolerating Jesuits amongst us. They will see that Jesuits are the avowed enemies of liberal education, and that they are sustained in their opposition to it by the curses of the Pope.

Professors Michelet and Quinet, in 1843, were discussing, in public, the influence of the different religious orders. They had, as we are told, commented upon that of the Templars, and were speaking of the society of Jesuits, its origin and its interference in political affairs; and though the professors themselves were Roman Catholics, though they lectured in a Roman Catholic country and to Roman Catholic people, under the sanction of a law of the land, yet Jesuits attempted to disturb those lectures, by creating an uproar among the audience; just what they are doing in this country. But what renders their conduct on this occasion more strange, is the fact, that the very existence of Jesuits, as a society is illegal in France. There is a law in France against secret associations, and under this law they cannot exist. How pregnant with instructions to Americans is this single historical fact! A few years ago, Charles X. and his family had to fly from France, because, under the influence of Jesuitism he violated his faith, he broke his royal word and oath to the people. The people of France hunted him and the Jesuits out of that country, as they would so many wild beasts. Such then was the indignation of Popish France against that infernal society, the Jesuits, that not one of them dared ta show his face in the streets of Paris, without trembling for his life. Like dastardly cowards, as all dishonorable and bad men are,--I never knew an exception,--these wretches moved about like beasts of chase, "stealing from one cover to another;" the representatives of all that was base and dishonorable; the embodiment of all that was vile, false and treacherous; the incarnation, the sentiment and the sediment of all that was odious in fallen humanity. But see them now, in 1843 and '44, and see the conduct of these very French people towards them. Though the law forbids their existence, they have the hardihood to interrupt the legitimate professors of the college of France, in their inquiries into the spirit and influence of Jesuitism; and they are supported by a portion of the very people, who, but a few years ago, pelted them with rotten eggs and dead cats, through the streets of Paris. And what effected this extraordinary change in popular sentiment? It is accounted for in various ways; but I contend that the only fair solution of the problem is to be found in the fact, that republican, democratic North America hats opened her hospitable doors, and without suspicion, or without dreaming that she was entertaining her deadliest foe, has spread her tables to feed, and opened her purse to build asylums for these scapegoats of the human family.

In 1830, Jesuits were crushed in France; they fled to the United States, collected together their broken phalanxes, told brother Jonathan they were a persecuted people, prevailed on him to build colleges for them, and they have risen again, not only in this land of the brave, but even in France, under the present king, Louis Philippe.

But notwithstanding these truths, the inquiry is sometimes made,--the question has often been put even to myself,--"Are there really any Jesuits in the United States?" "Do you believe that females are seduced into nunneries?" "Do you believe they attempt to tamper with our children or our wives?" I allude to the subject of privately tampering with the wives and daughters of Americans thus frequently, because I think it is all-important that they should thoroughly understand the dangers to be apprehended from having any intercourse whatever with Jesuits and nuns. Many a man asks this question, who accompanies it with saying, the nunnery to which my daughter goes to school is not a Jesuit nunnery. The priest to whom my wife confesses is not a Jesuit. The priest to whom my daughter and servants go to confession is not, and never was, a Jesuit; and consequently there is no danger from this source. Many a man asks this question, and states these circumstances in good faith, and feels secure that all is right, as nothing in his opinion is to be feared but from Jesuits. This is a delusion. This man's wife is already-governed by Jesuits through her confessor. It even happens sometimes that the confessor himself is unconscious of the part he is acting. The confessor acts under the immediate advice of his bishop, to whom alone, in most cases, the Jesuits will entrust their plans, unless the confessor is personally known to them; and unless the confessor professes and solemnly swears to observe,--I use the words of the oath,--"obedience, courage, secrecy, patience, craft, audacity, perfect union among ourselves, having for our country, the world; for our family, our order; for our queen, Rome."

Few of the confessors in this country, except the bishops, are entrusted with the plans of the Jesuits; perhaps not ten, except they are of the Jesuit order. It is through those confessors, that many of our American youth, both male and female, are seduced into Popish schools, where they become, with few exceptions, spiritless, false, slaves of abject superstition, and the victims of a superficial education. No time is given, no room left, as a modern writer expresses it, for the energies of the mind to develop themselves. No sustenance is provided to nourish the finer feelings of the heart. The intellect is checked, the flow of imagination is stemmed, and all the warm and generous affections of the soul are poisoned in their very bud.