Page 166, we read:--"Another nun, being somewhat infirm, her priest confessed her in her own room. After a time, the invalid penitent found herself in what is called an interesting situation, on which account, the physician declaring that her complaint was dropsy, she was sent away from the convent."

Page 167:--"A young educanda was in the habit of going down every night to the convent burial-place, where, by a corridor which communicated with the vestry, she entered into a colloquy with a young priest attached to the church. Consumed by an amorous impatience, she was not deterred from these excursions either by bad weather or the fear of being discovered.

"She heard a great noise one night near her. In the thick darkness which surrounded her, she imagined that she saw a viper winding itself around her feet. She was so much overcome by fright that she died from the effects of it a few months later."

Page 168:--"One of the confessors had a young penitent in the convent.

Every time he was called to visit a dying sister, and on that account pa.s.sed the night in the convent, this nun would climb over the part.i.tion which separated her room from his, and betake herself to the master and director of souls.

"Another, during the delirium of a typhoid fever, from which she was suffering, was constantly imitating the action of sending kisses to her confessor, who stood by the side of her bed. He, covered with blushes on account of the presence of strangers, held a crucifix before the eyes of the penitent, and in a commiserating tone exclaimed,--

"'Poor thing! kiss thy own spouse!'"

Page 168:--"Under the bonds of secrecy, an educanda, of fine form and pleasing manners, and of a n.o.ble family, confided to me the fact of her having received, from the hands of her confessor, a very interesting book (as she described it), which related to the monastic life. I expressed the wish to know the t.i.tle, and she, before showing it to me, took the precaution to lock the door.

"It proved to be the Monaca, by Dalembert, a book, as all know, filled with the most disgusting obscenity."

Page 169:--"I received once from a monk, a letter in which he signified to me that he had hardly seen me, when 'he conceived the sweet hope of becoming my confessor.' An exquisite of the first water, a fop of scents and euphuism, could not have employed phrases more melodramic, to demand whether he might hope or despair."

Page 169:--"A priest who enjoyed the reputation of being an incorruptible sacerdote, when he saw me pa.s.s through the parlatorio, used to address me as follows:--

"'Ps, dear, come here! Ps, Ps, come here!'

"These words, addressed to me by a priest, were nauseous in the extreme.

"Finally, another priest, the most annoying of all for his obstinate a.s.siduity, sought to secure my affections at all cost. There was not an image profane poetry could afford him, nor a sophism he could borrow from rhetoric, nor wily interpretation he could give to the Word of G.o.d, which he did not employ to convert me to his wishes. Here is an example of his logic:--

"'Fair daughter,' said he to me one day, 'knowest thou who G.o.d truly is?'

"'He is the Creator of the Universe,' I answered drily.

"'No,--no,--no,--no! that is not enough,' he replied, laughing at my ignorance. 'G.o.d is love, but love in the abstract, which receives its incarnation in the mutual affection of two hearts which idolize each other.

You, then, must not only love G.o.d in His abstract existance, but must also love Him in His incarnation, that is, in the exclusive love of a man who adores you. _Quod Deus est amor, nec colitur, nisi amando._'

"'Then,' I replied, 'a woman who adores her own lover would adore Divinity itself?'

"'a.s.suredly,' reiterated the priest over and over again, taking courage from my remark, and chuckling at what seemed to him to be the effect of his catechism.

"'In that case,' said I hastily, 'I should select for my lover rather a man of the world than a priest.'

"'G.o.d preserve you, my daughter! G.o.d preserve you from that sin!' added my interlocutor, apparently frightened. 'To love a man of the world, a sinner, a wretch, an unbeliever, an infidel! Why, you would go immediately to h.e.l.l.

The love of a priest is a sacred love, while that of a profane man is infamy; the faith of a priest emanates from that granted to the holy Church, while that of the profane is false,--false as the vanity of the world. The priest purifies his affections daily in communion with the Holy Spirit: the man of the world (if he ever knows love at all) sweeps the muddy crossings of the street with it day and night.

"'But it is the heart, as well as the conscience, which prompts me to fly from the priests,' I replied.

"'Well, if you cannot love me because I am your confessor, I will find means to a.s.sist you to get rid of your scruples. We will place the name of Jesus Christ before all our affectionate demonstration, and thus our love will be a grateful offering to the Lord, and will ascend fragrant with perfume to Heaven, like the smoke of the incense of the sanctuary. Say to me, for example, "I love you in Jesus Christ; last night I dreamed of you in Jesus Christ;" and you will have a tranquil conscience, because in doing this you will sanctify every transport of your love.'

"Several circ.u.mstances not indicated here, by the way, compelled me to come in frequent contact with this priest afterwards, and I do not therefore give his name.

"Of a very respectable monk, respectable alike for his age and his moral character, I inquired what signified the prefixing the name of Jesus Christ to amorous apostrophes.

"'It is,' he said, 'an expression used by a horrible sect, and one unfortunately only too numerous, which, thus abusing the name of our Lord, permits to its members the most unbridled licentiousness.'"

And it is my sad duty to say, before the whole world, that I know that by far the greater part of the confessors in America, Spain, France and England, reason and act just like that licentious Italian priest.

Christian nations! if you could know what will become of the virtue of your fair daughters if you allow secret or public slaves of Rome to restore the auricular confession, with what a storm of holy indignation you would defeat their plans!

CHAPTER III.

THE CONFESSIONAL IS THE MODERN SODOM.

If any one wants to hear an eloquent oration, let him go when the Roman Catholic priest is preaching on the divine inst.i.tution of auricular confession. There is no subject, perhaps, on which the priests display so much zeal and earnestness, and of which they speak so often. For this inst.i.tution is really the corner-stone of their stupendous power; it is the secret of their almost irresistible influence. Let the people to-day open their eyes to the truth, and understand that auricular confession is one of the most stupendous impostures which Satan has invented to corrupt and enslave the world; let the people desert the confessional-box to-day, and tomorrow Romanism will fall into the dust. The priests understand this very well; hence their constant efforts to deceive the people on that question.

To attain their object, they have recourse to the most egregious falsehoods; the Scriptures are misrepresented; the holy Fathers are brought to say the very contrary of what they have ever thought or written; the most extraordinary miracles and stories are invented. But two of the arguments to which they have more often recourse are the great and perpetual miracles which G.o.d makes to keep the purity of the confessional undefiled, and its secrets marvellously sealed. They make the people believe that the vow of perpetual chast.i.ty changes their nature, turns them into angels, and puts them above the common frailties of the fallen children of Adam.

Bravely and with a brazen face, when they are interrogated on that subject, they say that they have special graces to remain pure and undefiled in the midst of the greatest dangers; that the Virgin Mary, to whom they are consecrated, is their powerful advocate to obtain from her Son that superhuman virtue of chast.i.ty; that what would be a cause of sure perdition to common men is without peril and danger for a true son of Mary; and, with amazing stupidity, the people consent to be duped, blinded, and deceived by those fooleries.

But here let the world hear the truth as it is, from one who knows perfectly everything inside and outside the walls of that Modern Babylon; though many, I know, will disbelieve me and say, "We hope you are mistaken.

It is impossible that the priests of Rome should turn out to be such impostors. They may be mistaken; they may believe and repeat things which are not true, but they are honest; they cannot be such impudent deceivers."

Yes! though I know that many will hardly believe me, I must say the truth.

Those very men who, when speaking to the people in such glowing terms of the marvellous way they are kept pure in the midst of the dangers which surround them, honestly blush, and often weep, when they speak to each other (when they are sure that n.o.body except priests hears them). They deplore their moral degradation with the utmost sincerity and honesty. They ask from G.o.d and men pardon for their unspeakable depravity.

I have here in my hands, and under my eyes, one of their most remarkable secret books, written, or at least approved, by one of their greatest and best bishops and cardinals, the Cardinal De Bonald, Archbishop of Lyons.

The book is written for the use of the priests alone. Its t.i.tle is in French, "Examen de Conscience des Pretres." At page 34 we read:--

"Have I left certain persons to make the declarations of their sins in such a way that the imagination, once taken and impressed by pictures and representations, could be dragged into a long course of temptations and grievous sins? The priests do not pay sufficient attention to the continual temptations caused by the hearing of confessions. The soul is gradually enfeebled in such a way that, at the end, the virtue of chast.i.ty is for ever lost."

Here is the address of a priest to other priests when he suspects that n.o.body but his co-sinner brethren hear him. Here is the honest language of truth.

In the presence of G.o.d, those priests acknowledge that they have not a sufficient fear of those _constant_ (what a word--what an acknowledgment--constant!) temptations, and they honestly confess that those temptations come from the hearing of the confessions of so many scandalous sins. Here the priests honestly acknowledge that those constant temptations, at the end, destroy _for ever_ in them the holy virtue of purity![3]

Ah! would to G.o.d that all the honest girls and women whom the devil entraps into the snares of auricular confession could hear the cries of distress of those poor priests whom they have tempted--_for ever destroyed!_ Would to G.o.d that they could see the torrents of tears shed by so many priests because, from the hearing of confessions, they had _for ever_ lost the virtue of purity! They would understand that the confessional is a snare, a pit of perdition, a Sodom for the priest; and they would be struck with horror and shame at the idea of the _continual_, shameful, dishonest, degrading temptations by which their confessor is tormented day and night--they would blush on account of the shameful sins which their confessors have committed--they would weep over the irreparable loss of their purity--they would promise before G.o.d and men that the confessional-box should never see them any more--they would prefer to be burned alive, if any sentiment of honesty and charity remained in them, rather than consent to be a cause of _constant_ temptation and d.a.m.nable sin to that man.

Would that respectable lady go any more to confess to that man if, after her confession, she could hear him lamenting the continual, shameful temptations which a.s.sail him day and night, and the d.a.m.ning sins which he has committed on account of what she has confessed to him? No--a thousand times no!

Would that honest father allow his beloved daughter to go any more to that man to confess if he could hear his cries of distress, and see his tears flowing because the hearing of those confessions is the source of constant, shameful temptations and degrading iniquities?

Oh! would to G.o.d that the honest Romanists all over the world--for there are millions who, though deluded, are honest--could see what is going on in the heart, the imagination of the poor confessor when he is, there, surrounded by attractive women, and tempting girls, speaking to him from morning to night on things which a man cannot hear without falling! Then that modern but grand imposture called the Sacrament of Penance would soon be ended.

But here, again, who will not lament the consequence of the total perversity of our human nature? Those very same priests who, when alone in the presence of G.o.d, speak so plainly of the constant temptations by which they are a.s.sailed, and who so sincerely weep over the irreparable loss of their virtue of purity, when they think that n.o.body hears them, will yet in public deny with a brazen face those temptations. They will indignantly rebuke you as a slanderer if you say anything to lead them to suppose that you fear for their purity when they hear the confessions of girls or married women. There is not a single one of the Roman Catholic authors who have written on that subject for the priests, who has not deplored their innumerable and degrading sins against purity on account of the auricular confession; but those very men will be the first to try to prove the very contrary when they write books for the people. I have no words to say what was my surprise when, for the first time, I saw that this strange duplicity seemed to be one of the fundamental stones of my Church.

It was not very long after my ordination, when a priest came to me to confess the most deplorable things. He honestly told me that there was not a single one of the girls or married women whom he had confessed who had not been a secret cause of the most shameful sins in thoughts, desires, or actions; but he wept so bitterly over his degradation, his heart seemed so sincerely broken on account of his own iniquities, that I could not refrain from mixing my tears with his. I wept with him, and I gave him the pardon of all his sins, as I thought, then, I had the power and right to give it.

Two hours afterwards, that same priest, who was a good speaker, was in the pulpit. His sermon was on "The Divinity of Auricular Confession;" and, to prove that it was an inst.i.tution coming directly from Christ, he said that the Son of G.o.d was making a _constant_ miracle to strengthen His priests, and prevent them from falling into sins, on account of what they might have heard in the confessional!