LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 - — j^3 
 
 Shelf Mlh 
 
 i 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
\ 
 
COUSIN EULA; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A CATHOLIC CONVERTED 
 
 A humble setting forth of Salvation 
 
 through the merits of Christ alone, in contradistinction 
 
 from the false dogmas of the Roman 
 
 Catholic Church. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE EEV. J. BUIE McFAELAND, 
 
 Of the North Georgia Conference. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 BISHOP GEORGE F. PIERCE. 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 No...:*. 
 
 9.. 9 
 
 NASHVILLE, TENS'. : > v „ 
 
 Southern Methodist Publishing House. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 
 1882. 
 
OF 
 
 U*R*** 
 
 ^ 
 
 CO^GR«SS 
 
 
 \ 
 
 Copyright Secured. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 This little volume is respectfully dedicated 
 by the author to the memory of 
 
 BISHOP ENOCH M. MABVIN, 
 
 WHO IMPRESSED HIM AS THE HOLIEST MAN HE EVER 
 KNEW, AND WHOSE NAME APPEARS TO HIS DEACON'S 
 5; AND TO 
 
 BISHOP WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN, 
 
 AT WHOSE HANDS HE WAS SET APART AS AN ELDER IN 
 THE CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Into the hands of whomsoever this book shall fall we 
 beg of them not to judge of its merits from a partial 
 reading or a superficial examination, but to let the 
 whole story stand or fall together. 
 
 The pronoun I is used more frequently in the first 
 chapter than we desired, but it seemed unavoidable. 
 After you pass the first chapter you may converse with 
 us without that repulsive feeling one has toward the too 
 frequent use of the egotistical pronoun. 
 
 The chapters may be subdivided if desirable, especial- 
 ly for children. The whole is so completely networked 
 that when the reader has fully entered the book he will 
 not be content until the end is reached. 
 
 We have not sought the highest literary style, but pre- 
 ferred the more simple style, comprehensible alike to the 
 cultivated and uncultivated mind. The book is almost a 
 transcript of what passed between the writer and others. 
 
 Should Catholics claim this work to be false or fiction, 
 we assert it is not. It carries in itself the internal evi- 
 dence of truth. Our real and personal identity is given 
 on the title-page. The Author. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 My friend, the Eev. J. B. McFarland, has written a lit- 
 tle book, and requests me to prepare an Introduction. I 
 render this service cheerfully, after looking over the proof- 
 sheets. 
 
 The book is without literary pretensions, and claims 
 nothing on the score of style. It is a simple, truthful nar- 
 rative, detailing the struggles of a mind passing out of the 
 darkness and bondage of Catholicism into the light, and 
 freedom, and satisfaction, of a pure Protestant Christianity. 
 It reveals partially the machinery by which the priesthood 
 of that apostate Communion dominates and terrifies the 
 simple-minded men and women who have been ensnared 
 by their wiles. It shows how heartless and unsatisfactory 
 is the routine of the arbitrary and unscriptural services to 
 which these victims are doomed, and with what fearful emo- 
 tions the enslaved mind first entertains the idea of change 
 and emancipation. The threatened malediction of the 
 Church is invoked to crush the incipient thought of escape 
 from the intolerable thraldom. The arts of the nun and 
 the intrigue of the priest, the moral suasion of kindness 
 and the terror of excommunication, are all employed to 
 hold the struggling spirit in subjection to the "scarlet 
 
8 Introduction. 
 
 woman." The book, if it could be circulated, might an- 
 swer a double purpose — protecting the simple-hearted from 
 the guile and treachery of the artful proselyter, and open- 
 ing the eyes of the benighted devotees to the fraud by 
 which they have been deceived and betrayed. But Rome 
 will not allow her children to read on this side of the ques- 
 tion. The most, therefore, that can be hoped for is that 
 the unwary may be warned, and thus forearmed, and that 
 some one or more may be incited to the work of rescuing 
 another weary, wretched prisoner, and introducing him or 
 her to the joys of simple faith in the great High-priest of 
 our profession. Q s p. Pierce. 
 
 Sunshine, March 6, 1882, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 From childhood to mature years — First mission-work 
 — She is really a Catholic — Our old Spanish 
 friend — Catholicism enslaves the intellect 11 
 
 CHAPTER IE 
 
 Prayer to the Virgin Mary is sin — Confession to the 
 priest is idolatry — Penance is a work of superer- 
 ogation — Infallibility and other dogmas are ab- 
 surdities 36 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 How Eula became a Catholic — Little Alice, of seven 
 years — Little Lucy, of five years — Sabbath morn- 
 ing — Sunday-schools — Sabbath evening — Sisters 
 of Charity 48 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Religious conversation — Christian experience — My 
 mother — My eldest sister, Cynthia — My youngest 
 sister, Hattie 73 
 
 chapter v. 
 
 My cousin is unhappy — Faith — Justification — Grace 
 
 — Witness of the Spirit 87 
 
10 Contents. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 Catholics alarmed — Wilderness state — Prodigal re- 
 turning — Works — Tears — Eula confesses the 
 truth 103 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 Decision and renunciation — Last agony — "But I 
 swore" — Imprecations — Death is not a synonym 
 for this — Eula is converted * 118 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 First temptation to go to the priest — Temptation van- 
 ished — Planning for the future — Second tempta- 
 tion — She dissuades the preacher from writing 
 this book — Temptation ended, and she prays for 
 God's blessing on this work 145 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Father F. D. La Fontaine interviewed — Correspond- 
 ence — To the Catholic reader — To the Protestant 
 reader — Whv the book has been delaved 179 
 
(fousm dMa; or,^ dfaiholiq dfonwiM 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 From childhood to mature years — First mission-work — 
 She is really a Catholic — Oar old Spanish friend — 
 Catholicism enslaves the intellect. 
 
 Twenty-five years ago there lived in one of 
 the valleys of North Georgia a kind family, 
 near neighbor to my father. They drank water 
 from a pure spring that flowed from under the 
 hill near their neat two-room log-house; for 
 there were in those days, in that portion of the 
 State, but few houses that were not made with 
 the woodman's ax. They breathed pure mount- 
 ain air that gave vigor to mind and body. In 
 that family there was a son, near my own age. 
 We were doubtless strongly attached to each 
 other, but not old enough to know the meaning 
 of the words, "We must part." There was in 
 that family a daughter, two or three years 
 younger than myself, who is to be the central 
 figure of this story. There w^as in the neigh- 
 borhood a country school-house, at which place 
 
 (11) 
 
12 Cousin Eula; ob, 
 
 the children of each family went to school. One 
 thing, and only one, do I remember of dear lit- 
 tle Eula. One summer evening, after a rain, 
 we innocently ran along together, barefoot, in 
 the trenches made by the washing of the water. 
 A swelled branch caused us to climb around 
 the fence. 
 
 It was not long after this the father thought 
 he could do better in another State. Arrange- 
 ments were completed for the move. A long 
 travel in wagons across two States lay before 
 the courageous father in seeking the welfare of 
 his growing family. The wagons w r ere packed, 
 and, as an evidence of love and mark of respect, 
 as many of our family as could accompanied 
 the departing train for several miles. While 
 my associate and I walked behind a wagon, 
 unthoughtf ul of the fact that many would be 
 the changes, seasons, and rolling years before 
 each other's face we should see again, there 
 were riding within the wagon two older girls, 
 of twelve summers, whose hearts were wed. 
 They wept. We heard their weeping, but we 
 knew not why they wept so sorely. We know 
 now. They met no more on earth. Time 
 brought approaching manhood and woman- 
 hood. Time also brought the civil war, known 
 as the Confederate, or Rebel War. At its close 
 
A Catholic Converted. 13 
 
 the two weeping girls were of marriageable 
 age. They married. It was not long until 
 one of them died in the faith of the gospel of 
 Christ. So Julia was numbered with the dead. 
 She left a little girl to make sunshine in the 
 world in place of the mother dear. Soon after 
 the husband of the other died; but a little 
 girl of two summers was left to the bereaved 
 mother, who, she was accustomed to say, was 
 the sunshine of her life. A few years passed, 
 and she remarried. Two years more passed, 
 and that unrelenting disease, consumption, 
 seized its victim, and then gentle, sweet Cyn- 
 thia was no more on earth. On her grave- 
 stone was carved that verse, so fitting a tribute 
 to her memory: " Blessed are the pure in heart, 
 for they shall see God." 
 
 At first we knew not wiiy they wept so sore- 
 ly; but, as we grew r older, we knew it was be- 
 cause they felt we may never meet again. No, 
 not here; but they have met in the spirit-land 
 to weep no more, for " God shall wipe away all 
 tears from their eyes." 
 
 In the war there were two rebel soldiers, 
 ruddy and youthful. After we had followed 
 our gallant Johnston over many a contested 
 inch of ground, there came into our camp one 
 day -a beardless youth, introducing himself as 
 
14 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 my long-absent associate. The boys of eight- 
 een once more sweetly communed as their re- 
 viving memories called up the scenes of their 
 childhood-days. 
 
 Once more we met. It was on the 22d of 
 July, 1864, in the field of battle-array. When 
 we saw the day was lost, as quick as thought 
 it was said by one, "Shall we surrender? or 
 shall we try to run the fast-closing lines in our 
 rear?" It was as quickly answered by the 
 other, "A prison I cannot bear; let us try it, 
 and, if either of us fall, let the other fall by 
 his side and see his end." So we agreed, and, 
 with guns at trail-arms, we made for the rear, 
 while an unbroken line of the enemy made 
 sure aim at the retreating few. A ball passed 
 through my arm, and marked my body. I cried 
 out, "I am wounded!" while my gallant com- 
 panion responded, " Do you want help? " In 
 the rear we parted, and each other's face we 
 have not seen since. As I was now disabled 
 for the army service, I knew I should never be 
 exposed again to the perils of the war. 
 
 Freed from the dangers of the war, another 
 trouble bore upon my mind. At the age of 
 fourteen I had been truly converted to God, 
 and with my embracing religion I felt a con- 
 scientious conviction that it was my duty to 
 
A Catholic Converted. 15 
 
 pray in my father's family. I failed to do it. 
 Thus time rolled on, leaving me condemned by 
 the Spirit. 
 
 A farther duty bore upon my mind from the 
 time I was converted ever afterward: I was 
 conscious of the unfailing voice of the Holy 
 Spirit calling me to preach Jesus. And now 
 the responsibility was increased; for while I 
 was exposed to the dangers of the war, I longed 
 to see my precious mother, loving sisters, and 
 little brothers. So I vowed a vow, and it was 
 this: "O Lord, keep my life safe through the 
 war, that I may see my mother and loved ones 
 again; and then I will preach Jesus." My 
 right-arm torn and broken, I knew I should 
 never be a soldier any more; but to preach the 
 gospel — I could not bear the thought! I could 
 never be a beggar, as it is sometimes charged 
 against Methodist ministers ; for I realized that 
 my work through life was to be a unit — that of 
 a traveling Methodist minister. 
 
 Let it suffice here to say, to redeem my vow 
 and begin family-prayer in my father's family 
 cost me eight months' sickness and forty-eight 
 hours' fasting and prayer, during which time 
 I neither ate, drank, nor slept. One thing I 
 did accomplish: I got under the cross, and boro 
 it; and ever since the cross has been bearing 
 
16 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 me. Such was the trial of that hour, or hours, 
 and such the victory, that I can truly say it 
 has never since been a cross for me to preach. 
 Preaching to me has been sweeter than the 
 honey and honey-comb. 
 
 Afterward I said to mother, " I am conscious 
 of my duty to preach the gospel of grace to 
 sinners; are you willing? " She replied, " Yes, 
 my son, if you will only wait until you are 
 qualified." I responded, "Mother, I will do 
 my best on that line." 
 
 After a year's schooling at home, I went to 
 Emory College, Oxford, Ga., with one object 
 in view. I remained there three years, and 
 did my best. 
 
 All this time there was something in my 
 mind deeper still. One day I must tell those 
 I love I am to be a missionary. China was 
 my ideal field of labor. The three years at 
 Emory College satisfied me that I had not 
 sufficient strength of body or fitness of mind 
 for the foreign work. 
 
 Six years I was happy in preaching the gos- 
 pel in North Georgia. My soul so longed for 
 the mission -field that one morning, in open 
 District Conference, in the town of Kinggold, 
 Ga., I arose and said: "Bishop Pierce, I here 
 make a complete surrender of my life to the 
 
A Catholic Converted. 17 
 
 mission- work anywhere you may see fit to send 
 me." It was a hard struggle, but the work was 
 done. 
 
 At the end of the year I said to my presid- 
 ing elder, " You may authorize the bishop to 
 transfer me to the Florida Conference; or, 
 what I would like better, give me work in 
 Florida, allowing me to remain a member of 
 the North Georgia Conference, that I may not 
 lose my identity with those brethren whom I 
 so dearly love." 
 
 I was transferred, and stationed on the Nas- 
 sau Mission, Florida Conference, with one 
 hundred dollars appropriation, fifty of which 
 it took to carry myself and wife to the work. 
 We had in our new field of labor privations 
 such as neither of us had ever known, yet we 
 were truly happy in our work, and it was not 
 long before I was convinced that I was right 
 in seeking missionary- work. I really thanked 
 God I was a missionary. But I am not going 
 to tell you now any more about that particular 
 mission. 
 
 As I had now crossed the serpentine Saint 
 Mary's River, and breathed the soft air of the 
 land of flowers, I realized an abiding desire to 
 see again my associate, who had thirteen years 
 
 previous assisted me from the field of battle 
 2 
 
18 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 when I was all covered with blood. Hope de- 
 ferred, it is said, maketh the heart sick. The 
 hope of seeing my associate, or even hearing 
 from him, was really faint; yet I did write a 
 postal-card, and received a kind answer in re- 
 turn. The following is an extract: 
 
 "Tampa, Fla. — Your card has been received. 
 It made us glad, yet sorrowful. We are all 
 yet alive since you heard last. I am the father 
 of five children, one of whom is named for you. 
 All of our family live here except sister Eula 
 and brother George. Eula is the mother of 
 four children — two living and two dead — one 
 of whom died last fall during the yellow-fever 
 epidemic." 
 
 It was little Lucy, a bright little girl of five 
 years. Dear reader, you will meet her again 
 in these pages, as well as little Alice, of seven 
 years. 
 
 Following is an extract from my letter: 
 
 "Nassau Mission, Florida Conference. — I de- 
 sire so much to visit you at Tampa. Please 
 write me the cost from Cedar Keys to Tampa. 
 Also the chance to go from Tampa to Mellon- 
 ville. I want to go to Mellonville to the Dis- 
 trict Conference about the first of April. If 
 I can take you in my route I will be happy to 
 do so." 
 
A Catholic Converted. 19 
 
 Here is his reply: 
 
 "Tampa, Fla. — It will cost you twenty dollars 
 from Cedar Keys to Tampa and return. You 
 cannot go from here to Mellonville at this sea- 
 son of the year. My mother is going about 
 that time to Saint Augustine, to see my sister 
 and brother. If you cannot visit us, perhaps 
 you can join in travel with my mother at Bald- 
 win, the 27th or 28th of March." 
 
 The fifth Sabbath in March gave me rest I 
 needed much. The 27th of March wife and I 
 traveled toward the ancient city of Saint Au- 
 gustine, to be gone from our mission two weeks 
 — one rest Sabbath, one at the District Confer- 
 ence. Strange to say, I had never been con- 
 cerned before about Saint Augustine — no, not 
 until I learned certain persons were living 
 there; and even then I had an idea it was an 
 old, dilapidated town, of one or two hundred 
 inhabitants, whereas it has two thousand. 
 
 Here is a special providence, if you will re- 
 member it, and connect it with my unavoidable 
 delay in Saint Augustine. I had supposed the 
 place to be only about twenty miles from Jack- 
 sonville, and costing a small amount. Upon 
 the train I secured a railroad map. I began 
 to search for Saint Augustine. At first I 
 thought it is surely not laid down; but I did 
 
20 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 find it, far down on the coast from where I had 
 expected to find it. I took the map to my wife, 
 and said, "I am deceived about Saint Augus- 
 tine. We go up the Saint John's Biver about 
 fifty miles, and then some twenty miles by 
 railroad to Saint Augustine. My money will 
 be short." She asked, " What will you do? " 
 I answered, " We can but go forward now." 
 
 Thursday night, March 27, 1878, was spent 
 with my presiding elder, in Jacksonville. A 
 blush came upon my face when he told me the 
 cost to Saint Augustine and return. I then 
 expressed myself: "I have started for the Dis- 
 trict Conference in good faith, a distance from 
 my mission of two hundred and fifty miles. I 
 have never missed a District Conference. I 
 desire very much to go, but I fear you will not 
 see me there. I am deceived as to the cost to 
 Saint Augustine — my money will be short. It 
 is yet five days before we leave for Conference. 
 It is not economy to go back or remain here. 
 I can but go to Saint Augustine." 
 
 Faint of hope in reaching the District Con- 
 ference, one thought was then paramount in 
 my mind: I wonder if my cousins — ah, there! 
 I have told you now what Eula and George 
 are to me. Yes, they are my own dear cousins. 
 Yes, I was anxious in my soul to know if my 
 
A CxVtholic Converted. 21 
 
 cousins were Christians, and in what Church I 
 should find them. Before I parted with my 
 presiding elder I said, "Brother Pasco, I have 
 forgotten wdio has charge of the Saint Augus- 
 tine Mission." He answered, "It is supplied 
 by the Bev. T. E. Cooper." I asked, "Shall I 
 likely meet him?" He replied, "No, sir; we 
 have no society in that place — it is mostly a 
 Catholic town." Then I thought more than 
 ever that they could not be Methodists. I 
 wonder what they are ? 
 
 We had a pleasant trip of four hours on the 
 picturesque Saint John's Biver in the " Hamp- 
 ton" — an excellent vessel with a praiseworthy 
 motto, "God bless our ship." Twenty miles 
 by rail, and then we arrive in the ancient city 
 of the New World. At the depot we were be- 
 sieged with drummers. All have the best fare, 
 best accommodations. All want to do the kind 
 favor to take our baggage. The following con- 
 versation occurred: "Hackman, do you know 
 where Mr. Uzenia lives? " "Yes, sir; I carried 
 a lady over there yesterday. If you wish to 
 go, I would like to take you." Wife and I were 
 soon at the cottage-door, our card sent in, and 
 a welcome sent out. The lady spoken of was 
 my dear old Methodist aunt. I had not seen 
 her in thirteen years, nor had she visited her 
 
22 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 children before in three years. She was a sweet- 
 looking old lady, but she seemed sad. 
 
 Family talk: " This place is much larger than 
 I expected to find it; ho^y many inhabitants 
 has it? " " Over two thousand." " How old is 
 the city?" "Over three hundred years old." 
 I thought, but spoke not. A Southern city 
 over three hundred years old, with two thou- 
 sand inhabitants, and no Southern Methodist 
 church! Shame, shame on us! It is due, how- 
 ever, to here state we had a church and society 
 there previous to the war, which was lost in 
 the vicissitudes of the war. 
 
 After some salutations and complimentary 
 remarks, I said, " Cousin Eula, while I am 
 your guest I shall make myself at home, as 
 my custom is." " Certainly, Cousin Buie, I 
 would not have you do otherwise," was her 
 prompt reply. So I said, " We left the boat 
 before the dining-hour, consequently we have 
 not had dinner to-day." She replied, "I will 
 gladly have dinner ready in a short time." 
 
 In the meantime, while dinner w T as in prepa- 
 ration, I sat near the round-table, upon which 
 lay a few books. I thought, I shall now find 
 out what my cousins are. So I examined the 
 books that lay upon the center-table. An old 
 Methodist Hymn-book first passed in review. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 23 
 
 The fly-leaves were gone— no trace of name to 
 be found. " Our Children," by Dr. Haygood, 
 of the North Georgia Conference, was next in 
 order. No name could I find. Next a gilt- 
 edge book with a cross stamped on each side, 
 fastened with a clasp. The only inscription on 
 the outside was "Mission Book." O God! I 
 fear to unloose the clasp, lest the name on the 
 fly-leaf should crush me. It was opened, but 
 no name was written within. It was a Roman 
 Catholic book. Here is another. Let me pur- 
 sue my search. It is a Testament. I opened, 
 and read: " Presented to George by his mother. 
 Head this book, my son, and be wise. Nov. 20, 
 1875." There was yet another book, title, " Com- 
 mon Prayer." It was an Episcopal book. No 
 name yet to be found. And yet there is still 
 another. It is a pamphlet, price twenty-five 
 cents. (I wish my little book could be just 
 twenty-five cents.) But what of its title ? " The 
 Catholic Christian Instructed." No name yet. 
 The only writing I found was " Catholic Library, 
 Saint Augustine, Fla." And now that I was 
 through the books, I sighed. O God, where 
 am I? I am afraid this hymn-book is only a 
 relic speaking of better and happier days of 
 the past. No, this cannot be, for here is " Our 
 Children." It is a late edition, too, bearing the 
 
24 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 likeness of its fearless author. My aunt looks 
 so sad. I am afraid I am not in time. O God, 
 where am I? I never felt so before. Dinner 
 was announced, but I did npt feel so much like 
 dining as when I asked for it. Yet I tried to 
 feel cheerful. 
 
 Table-talk: " Well, Cousin Eula, I have often 
 tried to imagine how you looked, but could not." 
 She replied, "And so have I, you, Cousin Buie; 
 but you are so different to what I expected you 
 would be." " Well, cousin, your mother favors 
 one of her sisters very much, but you have only 
 one resemblance to our family. Your forehead 
 is very much like my sister Hattie's, who died 
 last year. She was such a good Christian I 
 feel she is in heaven now. However, you have 
 an unnatural appearance to me, but I suppose 
 it is because I have never known you before." 
 
 I suppose it was quite an hour after dining 
 when I asked to be excused, that I might walk 
 over the city, as I had been confined all day in 
 the boat and cars. Mr. Uzenia proposed to be 
 my guide. He first conducted me to the old 
 Fort San Marcos, now known as Fort Marion. 
 It was built by the Spaniards, in 1565. It is 
 said to be the best specimen of military archi- 
 tecture of its time now extant. Within the 
 fort was confined about sixty Indians. They 
 
A Catholic Converted. 25 
 
 interested themselves in making bows and ar- 
 rows, polishing sea-beans, and making other 
 trinkets they sold to visitors. We were next 
 shown the pillars of the ancient gate, and frag- 
 ments of the ancient wall. 
 
 As the rays of the evening sun were reced- 
 ing over the western plain, and sinking into the 
 Gulf of Mexico, we walked together around the 
 sea-wall, feasting our eyes upon the boundless 
 waters of the Atlantic Ocean that lay to our 
 left. Thus gratification and fear were mingled 
 within my breast — gratified to behold the won- 
 derful achievements of man, and more grati- 
 fied to know there was One mightier than man, 
 who could say to the mighty deep, " Thus far 
 shall thy proud waves come, and no farther." 
 And even amid the angry billows His gentle 
 voice is heard, " Peace, be still " — so much so, 
 that all around is made as calm and cheerful 
 as the bleating of a lamb on the green meadow, 
 or the cooing of a dove on a spring morning. 
 Fear was enthroned within, for I was still won- 
 dering what my cousins were. 
 
 Twilight drew its mantle over us, reminding 
 us that "the day is past and gone, the evening 
 shades appear." And " the night cometh, when 
 no man can work." We returned homeward 
 through the heart of the city; yet it had little 
 
26 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 attraction to me, for I was still wondering what 
 my cousins were. As we walked I was musing, 
 but my musing was aroused to excitement when 
 Mr. Uzenia said to me, " This is the Cathedral; 
 it has been built a hundred years." "Tell me, 
 Mr. Uzenia, to what Church do you and your 
 family belong?" "My wife belongs to the 
 Catholic Church." Thus the dread announce- 
 ment came. It excited a secret resolve within 
 my heart: "0 God, by thy grace I intend to 
 reclaim my cousin! " I then said, "And is that 
 your way of thinking? " "Well, I do not be- 
 long to any Church; I do not see that it makes 
 any difference what Church; if I were going to 
 join any, I suppose I should join the Catholics." 
 I said to myself, Thousands have thought " it 
 makes no difference;" but such thinking, or, 
 rather, the want of thinking, has led many to 
 temporal and eternal ruin. 
 
 The evening was spent in social conversation 
 until the hour arrived for retirement. We had 
 family - pray ers, and retired. Adjoining my 
 wife's room was the bed-chamber occupied by 
 Cousin Eula and her mother. On retiring, I 
 heard her say to her mother, " I am so nervous 
 and peculiar I cannot sleep without a light." 
 As I awoke at different times of the night, and 
 early in the morning, I noticed a light shining 
 
A Catholic Converted. 27 
 
 through a crack at the top of the door between 
 the two rooms. The unnatural appearance of 
 my cousin, as I had before discovered, with the 
 burning lamp, was a book to me not hard to 
 read. Each told of a spirit within distorted 
 with fears of the awful. 
 
 Friday morning, March 29, the sun rose as 
 usual, and began his circuit; no fog obscured 
 his light that morning on that Southern coast. 
 
 I preferred to be alone, and asked to be ex- 
 cused, that I might walk for exercise and sight- 
 seeing. First I went to an hotel, and made 
 some extracts from the register relating to 
 temperature of the weather for the month of 
 January, that I might compare with the tem- 
 perature at our North Georgia home for the 
 same time. Next I went to the harbor. How 
 delightful to stand on the dock and see the 
 sail -vessels going out pleasure-seeking and 
 sight-seeing! Again I took the wall on the 
 sea-shore, and walked around until I reached 
 the suburbs of the city. Now that I was on 
 the outskirts of the city, I saw beautiful or- 
 ange-groves full of oranges; really beautiful 
 was the golden fruit among the green foliage. 
 
 To the left of the door of a dilapidated cot- 
 tage sat an old man on a worn chair. I sa- 
 luted him, and asked a question about the or- 
 
 
28 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 anges. He politely gave me the information 
 desired, and asked me to have a seat. Feeling 
 tired, I accepted, and entered into conversation. 
 
 Our new friend here introduced is an old 
 Spaniard, afflicted, very poor, and has five 
 children. The following conversation took 
 place: 
 
 American. Does the city help you? 
 
 Spaniard. Yes, two dollars a month. I was 
 in the Indian war, and my friends think I will 
 yet receive a pension. 
 
 A. How long have you lived here? 
 
 S. Since I was a child. 
 
 A. Well, tell me, friend, are you a member 
 of the Church? 
 
 S. Yes; Catholic. 
 
 A. Are you conscious of the forgiveness of 
 sins? 
 
 S. Yes, sir. 
 
 A. And you feel you love God, and he loves 
 you? 
 
 S. I do. 
 
 A. Well, tell me, friend, do you believe the 
 teachings of the Roman Catholic Church? 
 
 S. I do not. 
 
 A. Then you do not believe the priest can 
 forgive sins? 
 
 S. No, sir. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 29 
 
 A. When did tlie priest come to see you? 
 
 S. He lias not been to see me in a year and 
 a-half . The Presbyterian priest comes to see 
 me. 
 
 A. Not priest — minister. 
 
 S. Tes, we call them priests. [Spontane- 
 ous]: The Catholics do not help me now — the 
 Protestants help me. 
 
 A. Why do you not join the Protestants? 
 
 S. I am too indecent. 
 
 A. Not at all: the Presbyterians are a good 
 people, and are perfectly willing to receive the 
 poor. 
 
 Our old Spaniard was a real Protestant in 
 heart, but why he did not join the Protestant 
 Church was a mystery, but is no longer a mys- 
 tery to me. Why thousands of Boman Cath- 
 olics, really convinced of their erroneous teach- 
 ings and idolatrous worship, do not join the 
 Protestants, is a mystery to the world, but the 
 secret is within this book. 
 
 S. [Spontaneous]: My cousin, a lawyer liv- 
 ing in Tallahassee, has turned, and he told us 
 of others. 
 
 A. Friend, where is your family? 
 
 S. Four of my children are in the Presby- 
 terian school. I have one little girl here with 
 me; she is paralyzed. 
 
30 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 He called up his little paralyzed girl of ten 
 years. I gave her a dime, and told her to ask 
 her father how to spend it. "O," said he,. 
 " she will spend it for bread. Many a night 
 do my children go to bed without bread." I 
 arose from my seat, and gave him my hand, 
 and said: "Friend, I am a minister of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church, South. God 
 bless you." "And God bless you too," he re- 
 plied. I hardly need tell you we both shed 
 tears, parted, feeling better for having met — 
 strangers in the flesh, brothers in Christ. I 
 really went on my way rejoicing, thanking 
 God I was a wandering missionary. Nor did 
 I rejoice alone, for, two hours afterward, when 
 the wife of my bosom read the dialogue in my 
 diary, tears of joy flooded her cheeks. 
 
 Saturday, March 30, was spent in sight-see- 
 ing and taking notes not necessary to publish 
 here. 
 
 All the time it seemed my soul was swell- 
 ing toward the point of bursting into tears. 
 The night came. After tea, my aunt asked 
 my wife to sing. Some good old Methodist 
 hymns were sung. Favorite hymns were 
 called for. My cousin asked for "I would 
 not live alway," when the following conversa- 
 tion ensued: 
 
A Catholic Converted. 31 
 
 Buie. Well, Cousin Eula, yon mnst join ns 
 in singing your choice, or else sing one by 
 yourself. I am unwilling to come and go for 
 the first and perhaps the last time without 
 ever hearing your voice in song. 
 
 Eula. No, Cousin Buie; I am a Catholic 
 now, and I cannot sing those hymns. 
 
 B. What! Does being a Catholic interfere 
 with your singing those spiritual songs — the 
 songs of your first love ? 
 
 Aunt. Yes, Buie, I brought that book there, 
 "Our Children," by Dr. Haygood. I think it 
 such a good book. But Eula said, "Mother, 
 I cannot read that book now, I am a Catholic." 
 It nearly broke my heart. 
 
 And here the mother broke down with a 
 deep sob that a mother's heart only can feel. 
 
 E. Well, mother, you know I wrote to sister 
 that you need not be surprised if I joined the 
 Catholics. 
 
 Mother. But, daughter, I thought you were 
 only jesting; I had no idea of such a thing. 
 
 E. Cousin Buie, you will not like me be- 
 cause I am a Catholic, will you ? 
 
 B. Cousin, I do not dislike you for these 
 reasons, but I am only sorry. 
 
 E. Sorry for what? Because I belong to 
 the Church? 
 
32 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 B. Yes; sorry because you belong to the 
 Roman Catholic Church. 
 
 E. I think I should have gotten George be- 
 fore long, if mother had riot come. 
 
 B. Why were you so anxious to get your 
 brother to join? 
 
 E. Well, you know he is working at a very 
 dangerous place in the mill, liable to be torn 
 up by the machinery. He has not been bap- 
 tized, does not belong to the Church, and 
 should he die in this condition, he would be 
 lost. 
 
 B. Cousin, your desire for the eternal salva- 
 tion of your brother is praiseworthy, but such 
 salvation does not depend upon such material 
 things as water-baptism, but upon being born 
 of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 E. But, cousin, do you not believe the Cath- 
 olic Church to be a good Church, and the true 
 Church of Christ? 
 
 B. I certainly do not. 
 
 E. Well, what became of the people who 
 died previous to the apostasy of Luther? 
 
 B. Many of them doubtless are in heaven. 
 That there are some good people in the Cath- 
 olic Church I do not doubt. How far God ex- 
 cuses ignorance in his subjects I cannot tell; 
 he alone is Judge. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 33 
 
 E. Do you not think Luther was a vile per- 
 son? 
 
 B. I do not; but a very good and great 
 man, and one that has blessed the world 
 from his day until the present. And, my dear 
 cousin, if you ever get to heaven — and I hope 
 you will— you will certainly meet Martin Lu- 
 ther there. 
 
 E. Why, cousin! Have you ever read his 
 Life? You know he was a priest. He broke 
 a solemn vow, for which he could not receive 
 forgiveness, for he did not apply for it. He 
 stole one of the nuns from the convent, and 
 married her. How can he be in heaven? 
 
 B. I have read his Life. Perhaps we may 
 have read different Lives of Luther. But let 
 us look at the issue from your stand-point. As 
 to the vow, if it was binding his conscience, so 
 that he could not conscientiously serve God as 
 he believed God's will and word demanded he 
 should do, then he did right to break the vow, 
 and needed no forgiveness. Had he not done 
 as he did in reference to the vow, he would 
 have done wrong, and would have needed a 
 continual forgiveness until he did break it. 
 As to breaking a vow, or even an oath, it can- 
 not be wrong to break it, if keeping it is con- 
 trary to God's will. God's will is the only 
 3 
 
34 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 true rule governing right and wrong. What 
 is not sin in God's eye is not sin at all, even 
 though it be breaking vows and oaths. In how 
 many ways Luther broke his vows I cannot 
 tell, but I suppose at least in loving and marry- 
 ing Katharine — a helpmeet indeed in his noble 
 work. He certainly did not sin in this, for he 
 was obeying God's law. God first made man. 
 "And the Lord God said, It is not good that 
 the man should be alone; I will make him a 
 helpmeet for him." "So God created man 
 in his own image, in the image of God created 
 he him; male and female created he them. 
 And God blessed them, and said unto them, 
 Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the 
 earth." . Thus in man's innocency God insti- 
 tuted the marriage rite. Adam was the priest 
 of his own household. Under the Old Testa- 
 ment dispensation the priests had their wives 
 and families, nor was the custom abrogated 
 under the New Testament law. Peter, whom 
 the Catholics call their first priest — or rather 
 now, pope, but fail to prove it — had a wife. 
 "And when Jesus was come into Peter's house, 
 he saw his wife's mother laid, and sick of a 
 fever." Paul declared he had a right to lead 
 about a wife or sister, though we are not as- 
 sured he ever had either. Perhaps he did not 
 
A Catholic Converted. 35 
 
 marry because his life was one of incessant 
 toil, going from place to place planting and 
 watering Churches. There was a time when 
 but few Methodist ministers had wives; but it 
 was not because God's law or Church-law pro- 
 hibited marrying, but because of expediency. 
 In the earlier days of our Church the minis- 
 ters had many hardships, and their support 
 was meager. For these reasons our preachers 
 refrained from marrying, though there could 
 not have been any sin in doing so. 
 
36 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Prayer to the Virgin Mary is sin — Confession to the priest 
 is idolatry — Penance is a work of supererogation — In- 
 fallibility and other dogmas are absurdities. 
 
 Bute. Cousin Eula, a while ago you asked me 
 what I thought became of the people previous 
 to the apostasy of Luther — I prefer to state it, 
 previous to the Kef ormation. Also, if I did not 
 think the Catholic Church the true Church. I 
 have already answered these questions in part, 
 but I now answer in general terms. I regard 
 the doctrines and practices of the Catholic 
 Church an abomination in the sight of the 
 Lord. I do not sit in judgment upon the heart 
 and conscience of any individual, yet I do say 
 your Church, in doctrine and practice, is an 
 abomination in the sight of the Lord. I know 
 I have used strong language, but the facts 
 warrant it. 
 
 Eula. Cousin Buie, I knew you were preju- 
 diced; the Methodist preachers are more prej- 
 udiced against us than any others. 
 
 B. We are never prejudiced against any one, 
 or any thing, for the glory of God; but we can 
 never compromise with any theory that makes 
 
A Catholic Converted. 37 
 
 an idol of man or any thing else. Our God is 
 a jealous God. Our worship must be direct 
 toward God. We need no mediator except 
 God the Son. 
 
 E. What do you mean, cousin? Do you 
 mean to say we worship idols in our Church? 
 
 B. That is exactly what I mean. 
 
 E. In what way do we worship idols? 
 
 B. Your Mission Book there has a form of 
 prayer to the Virgin Mary. Does not your 
 Church use it? 
 
 E. We certainly do. 
 
 B. Such is idolatry. 
 
 E. In what way? Was she not a holy woman, 
 and the mother of Christ ? and has she not in- 
 fluence with him ? and may we not ask her to 
 use her influence in our behalf? 
 
 B. I believe she was a holy woman, because 
 her life and fidelity to Christ, even down to the 
 day of his death, warrant such a belief. She 
 was made holy just like every other person is 
 made holy, for she was naturally sinful just 
 like every one else is sinful. Mary, the mother 
 of Jesus, was saved by the blood of her Son 
 Jesus Christ, the Son of God, just like every 
 other person is saved. Therefore, to make 
 prayers to Mary, is a violation of the first com- 
 mandment in the Decalogue: " Thou shalt have 
 
38 Cousin Eula; oe, 
 
 no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make 
 unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of 
 any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in 
 the earth beneath, or that is in the water un- 
 der the earth. Thou shalt not bow down thy- 
 self to them, nor serve them; for I the Lord 
 thy God am a jealous God." Therefore I say 
 you cannot ask, petition, or make prayers to 
 Mary, or any other saint in heaven — no, not 
 even the angels — without being guilty of idol- 
 atry. 
 
 I truly believe Mary was the mother of Je- 
 sus, yet she has no influence with him in the 
 sense in which you speak, nor is such influence 
 needed under any circumstances. The heart 
 of Jesus is all love. He is ever willing to give 
 us the benefit of his redeeming grace on cer- 
 tain conditions, and those conditions are laid 
 down in his word. His word is the eternal 
 truth, and not one jot or tittle of it shall pass 
 away unfulfilled. 
 
 The great benefit of prayer is to prepare our 
 souls for the reception of blessings He is ever 
 willing to bestow upon us. The benefit of 
 prayer, in the second place, is prayer for one 
 another that God's Spirit may operate upon the 
 persons for whom we pray, and thus prepare 
 them for such blessings as they need. Such 
 
A Catholic Converted. 39 
 
 prayer of influence God's word authorizes; but 
 nowhere in God's word are we authorized to 
 pray to, or petition, any saint or angel to pray 
 for us. Nor are we assured in his word of any 
 prayer for us in heaven, except the prayer of 
 "Jesus, our High-priest, who ever liveth to 
 make intercession for us." 
 
 I charged your Church with being guilty of 
 an abomination in the sight of the Lord, in that 
 you make confession to the priest. Do you 
 not? 
 
 E. "We do. But, cousin, in your Church you 
 have class-meetings, and make confession. 
 
 B. We used to have class-meetings, and our 
 Church-law provides for such now; but I am 
 sorry to say they are almost obsolete. In our 
 class-meetings we relate some part of our Chris- 
 tian experience to edify each other. Or, if we 
 so desire, we make known our griefs or short- 
 comings, that we may bear each other's burdens, 
 and so fulfill the law of Christ. "We relate only 
 what we are inclined to relate. If questions 
 are asked us, and answers given, it is only in- 
 tended in order to better enable those wiser in 
 spiritual things to instruct and comfort us — ■ 
 not that we expect or desire from any person 
 any benefit from absolution. Our class-meet- 
 ings are more in the spirit of communion one 
 
40 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 with another, based upon such scriptures as 
 these: "Then they that feared the Lord spake 
 often one to another; and the Lord hearkened, 
 and heard it, and a book o£ remembrance was 
 written before him for them that feared the 
 Lord, and that thought upon his name." "And 
 they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in 
 that day when I make up my jewels." "And 
 let us consider one another to provoke unto love 
 and to good works." " Not forsaking the assem- 
 bling of ourselves together." " To do good and 
 to communicate forget not." Your confession 
 to the priest is with the view of receiving pardon 
 for sin. 
 
 E. But, cousin, the priest tells us that unless 
 we repent in our hearts, and unless Christ for- 
 gives us, our confession avails nothing. 
 
 B. Admit it. Does he not grant you absolu- 
 tion from sin ? 
 
 E. Yes, he grants us absolution from sin, 
 but we are to do penance afterward. 
 
 B. But does he not teach you that unless he 
 grants you absolution Christ will not forgive 
 you? 
 
 E. Yes, sir. 
 
 B. Well, then, the forgiveness of your sins 
 is made dependent upon some one else outside 
 of Christ, and Christ himself is made depend- 
 
A Catholic Converted. 41 
 
 ent upon the will of the priest, and secondary 
 to the priest. Such a theory makes Christ a 
 mere machine, to be turned by the will of the 
 priest; and unless the priest wills to turn the 
 machine, you go away unforgiven. Therefore 
 I say again, in your confession you are mock- 
 ing God, and are guilty of idolatry. 
 
 Wife. Well, Cousin Eula, I think you are 
 pretty badly tangled. 
 
 E. So I am. I knew I could not argue with 
 Cousin Buie. 
 
 B. It is not my strength or your weakness, 
 cousin; but your position being false, the ar- 
 gument must of necessity be weak. 
 
 We have seen, cousin, how the forgiveness 
 of your sins is made dependent upon the will 
 of the priest. This being the case, according 
 to your practice, he is your only mediator, and 
 only hope — a hope nauseating to the human 
 soul. We will next notice penance. 
 
 With the foregoing statements, to require 
 penance of you is mockery; yet you have told 
 me that you were required to do penance after 
 absolution; and with the true theory, penance 
 is a work of supererogation. 
 
 It is true the priest tells you unless you truly 
 repent in your heart his absolution will be of 
 no benefit to you, and adds penance in either 
 
42 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 case. Now, let us see wherein lies the merit of 
 forgiveness of sins according to Roman Catho- 
 lic theory, or rather, being cleansed from all 
 sin, for nothing short of this will satisfy the 
 human soul. The priest tacitly admits the 
 worthlessness of absolution, in that he teach- 
 es you without repentance of heart his abso- 
 lution avails nothing; for he cannot really 
 know whether or not your repentance is gen- 
 uine or hypocritical: he admits it, in that you 
 are to do penance afterward. It is clear that 
 being cleansed from sin is not found in absolu- 
 tion. You cannot, according to your theory, 
 receive it direct from Christ, for it is claimed 
 that absolution must of necessity precede 
 Christ's forgiveness. Then we look with a 
 gasping hope to the act of penance. As the 
 forgiveness of Christ is made dependent upon 
 the absolution of the priest, it seems to me to 
 be but mocking you to send you off to do pen- 
 ance, since you have settled the account with 
 the priest. If there be any virtue in his grant- 
 ing you absolution, the penance following is 
 useless, and a second paying of the debt. 
 
 When you are really forgiven by Him who 
 alone has power on earth to forgive sins — I 
 mean Jesus Christ — there will be no need 
 why you should go on mourning and torturing 
 
A Catholic Converted. 43 
 
 yourself about sins already forgiven. The 
 true theory is repentance toward God, and 
 faith toward the Lord Jesus Christ. This di- 
 rect, you need no priest save Christ, and no 
 penance whatever. 
 
 Cousin Eula, I find great objections to your 
 Church in its claims to infallibility, and other 
 absurd claims contrary to reason and revela- 
 tion. Infallibility was not claimed for the 
 Church in the early centuries of the Christian 
 era. It is the result of human depravity found 
 in the pride of the human heart. There is 
 nothing in the Eoman Catholic Church to base 
 it upon. No one can tell where to find it; even 
 Catholic authorities are not agreed. One coun- 
 cil will locate infallibility in the pope, another 
 in the Church, and yet another in the pope and 
 Church in council. So we find it all through 
 the history of the Eoman Catholic Church— 
 an infallible Church, anathematizing and con- 
 tradicting its infallible self. 
 
 Immutability is necessarily a component 
 part of infallibility. Yet I find from history 
 that popes anathematize their predecessors 
 and former councils. They abrogate and 
 condemn what has been taught before them, 
 and declare new doctrines contrary to former 
 ones. So facts and history disprove the 
 
44 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 claim of the Roman Catholic Church to infalli- 
 bility. 
 
 Infallibility of the Church is not sustained 
 by Scripture. I know what Catholics claim 
 for it. They claim Peter as the rock upon 
 which Christ built his Church: if it were true, 
 then the foundation would be human, and not 
 divine; while the truth is, Christ is the chief 
 corner-stone, precious, elect. But Christ 
 taught that he himself was the Rock. Yet 
 Christ did commend Peter's faith, and say the 
 gates of hell should not prevail against the 
 Church. But the Church must rest upon the 
 same faith that was in Peter, and find expres- 
 sion in the words, " Thou art the Christ, the 
 Son of the living God." Christ did say, "I 
 will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of 
 heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind on 
 earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatso- 
 ever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in 
 heaven." True, Christ's disciples have the keys 
 in all ages; and as the Church is pure and 
 faithful, heaven is made accessible to those 
 who come in contact with the Church; but as 
 the Church is impure and unfaithful, they 
 present nothing but darkness and ruin to the 
 world, and thus bind the world. He also said 
 in this line, " Ye are the light of the world." 
 
A Catholic Converted, 45 
 
 Infallibility is not only not sustained by Script- 
 ure, but it is contrary to Scripture and to reason. 
 
 We know that God is infallible; and all con- 
 cede the Bible to be the word of God; there- 
 fore, the Bible is the infallible truth of God. 
 As the Bible is closed and complete, there can- 
 not be any infallible truth added to it. That 
 which is decreed outside, and contrary to the 
 Bible, shows the mutability of the decreeing 
 power, which destroys the claim of infalli- 
 bility. 
 
 We find mutability and changeableness run- 
 ning all through the history of the Catholic 
 Church; therefore, she has ever been fallible. 
 This so-called infallible Church decrees that 
 its members shall believe all its decrees, and 
 whatever they may hereafter in council decree. 
 So that, in following the decrees of the Boman 
 Catholic Church, you can never know that you 
 have the right rule of faith. The true faith 
 may be just ahead, or in some decree centuries 
 yet to come. An infallible Church, if it were 
 possible for one to be so, in the very nature of 
 the case destroys an infallible Bible; there- 
 fore, infallibility cannot be in any Church. 
 Infallibility in the Church has many objec- 
 tions, and works many evils. It takes away 
 your right of private judgment, which regal 
 
46 Cousin Eula; oe, 
 
 right you cannot surrender to any one or any 
 Church; for to do so would make you no more 
 than a brutish slave. In the same train of evil 
 it destroys personal responsibility and ac- 
 countability, which lead iii the wake of ruin to 
 materialism, atheism, and destructionalism. 
 
 We have seen this claim has no scriptural 
 support, is disproved by history, and reason 
 revolts at it. 
 
 Closely connected with this infallible claim, 
 and growing out of it, are other absurd claims. 
 In the thirteenth century this infallible Church 
 introduced transubstantiation. Common sense 
 and reason so revolt at this claim that the 
 Church itself cannot believe it. Take the 
 bread in the mass. After consecration, the 
 Church tells us " that the substance bread is 
 transubstantiated, changed into another sub- 
 stance" — namely, the real divinity of Christ's 
 soul and body. But test this transubstantia- 
 tion theory by every known law of reasoning, 
 and you will find it bread still. It feels like 
 bread, it looks like bread, it tastes like bread; 
 it is bread just as it was before. But this in- 
 fallible Church tells us it is a miracle, and you 
 cannot see it, or feel it, or know it; nevertheless 
 it is true. Very well, let us see. When Moses 
 changed the dust into lice, everybody could 
 
A Catholic Converted. 47 
 
 know it; they looked like lice, the Egyptians 
 knew they were lice. When Christ changed 
 the water into wine, it looked like wine, it 
 tasted like wine; the governor of the feast 
 knew it was wine, and good wine. But I can- 
 not know that a mere wafer is the divinity of 
 Christ, with his soul and body, by any test 
 whatever; but I know it is not, by reason and 
 by the law of miracles. 
 
 In the dark ages of the world purgatory was 
 introduced, and in the mass prayer for the dead. 
 These are without the shadow of Scripture to 
 stand on. The truth of it is, they were con- 
 ceived and decreed by this infallible Church 
 to bring revenues into the Church. But this 
 seems a waste of time, for I know your good 
 sense will not allow you to accept of the false 
 dogmas of the Church of Borne mentioned in 
 this chapter. 
 
48 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How Eula became a Catholic — Little Alice, of seven years 
 — Little Lucy, of five years — Sabbath morning — Sun- 
 day-schools — Sabbath evening — Sisters of Charity. 
 
 Bute. "Well, Cousin Eula, will you please tell 
 me how you came to be a Eoman Catholic? 
 
 Eula. Cousin Buie, I really cannot tell you 
 how I came to be a Catholic, for I do not 
 know. 
 
 B. Well, let us see. How long since you 
 joined the Catholics? 
 
 E. About three months. 
 
 B. How long since you came to this place ? 
 
 E. Three years. 
 
 B. You were a Methodist before you came 
 here? 
 
 E. For several years. 
 
 B. We have had no Church here since you 
 came to this place? 
 
 E. None at all. 
 
 B. Were the Sisters very kind to you? 
 
 E. They were very kind indeed; they were 
 a great help to me during my sore trials. One 
 year and a-half ago little Alice, of seven years, 
 diod. Five months ago little Lucy, of five 
 
A Catholic Converted. 49 
 
 years, died of yellow fever. Johnnie had yel- 
 low fever also. 
 
 B. Now, cousin, we are prepared to tell you 
 how you became a Roman Catholic. 
 
 E. Well, please tell me; for I cannot tell 
 you. 
 
 B. When you came to this place the Church 
 of your choice was not here; so you probably 
 attended service alike at the Protestant and 
 Catholic Churches. At the Catholic Church 
 the service seemed sufficiently attractive, rath- 
 er fascinating; nothing very distasteful, except 
 rather too much form and ceremony. In this 
 way you came under Catholic influence to some 
 extent. Next you say the Sisters were very kind 
 to you, especially in your affliction, just at the 
 very time when your heart and mind were in 
 their softest mood, and most susceptible of 
 being impressed. They were kind, I do not 
 doubt — all for a purpose, though you knew it 
 not. These Sisters are called Sisters of Char- 
 ity. Their business is to be kind — all for the 
 Church. Every person and every thing in Ca- 
 tholicism must work for the Church. The 
 Church is above all things with Catholics. All 
 this time you were without any Protestant 
 support, or any Protestant minister to visit 
 you. 
 4 
 
50 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 E. Stop, cousin; justice to whom justice is 
 due: the Presbyterian minister and his wife 
 both came to see me. 
 
 B. Very well, cousin; I gladly accept your 
 statement. God bless the Presbyterians, and 
 their noble work! But one or two Protestant 
 visits are more than overcome by the continued 
 watchings and labors of the Sisterhood. Again, 
 did they not persuade you to join their Church ? 
 
 E. Not a great deal. 
 
 B. What about books ? 
 
 E. They brought me a great many books. 
 
 B. And you read a great deal? 
 
 E. I did. 
 
 B. Cousin, those books you read were all on 
 one side of the question, and you read them 
 too when you were in the deep waters of afflic- 
 tion. Doubtless your soul was longing after 
 God and happiness— ready to receive almost 
 any advice that might be given you. You be- 
 lieved those friends, and their books, kindly 
 tendered, were brought you to win your soul 
 for Christ and heaven; you never suspected 
 any thing else — especially when every thing 
 was indorsed by so much kindness — when re- 
 ally they were only after you for the Church. 
 
 E. I did, during my loneliness from kindred 
 and my Church, and in those deep waters of 
 
A Catholic Convekted. 51 
 
 affliction, long for solid comfort for my soul; 
 hence I read every thing they brought me. One 
 book in particular had much influence over 
 me. As well as I can remember, it was some- 
 thing like a dialogue between a priest and 
 Protestant minister; it convinced me that the 
 Catholic Church was the true Church. 
 
 B. Cousin, that book was doubtless formed 
 by the same mind, and penned by the same 
 hand — I mean each part — yet you never sus- 
 pected it. One part was made weak, and the 
 other strong, on purpose. The object of the 
 book was to induce you to join their Church. 
 
 No, cousin, instead of disliking you because 
 you are a Catholic, far from it. You have 
 passed through great trials. It is not a great 
 wonder that you are a Catholic, and you have 
 told us the way in w r hich you were made a 
 Catholic. But instead of disliking you, you 
 need my sympathy, my love, and my prayers 
 — all of which you have, and shall continue to 
 have. It is now growing late: we h ve already 
 engaged in song; we will now read a lesson, 
 and have family-prayers. 
 
 E. [After prayer]: Well, cousin, when I re- 
 ceived your card announcing your purpose to 
 visit us, the first thing I thought of was, Ho 
 will find me a Catholic. I cannot tell exactly 
 
52 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 how I did feel about it. I wanted to see you, 
 and yet I did not. But I assure you to-night 
 I am glad you are here. I have been expect- 
 ing you to ask me every day to what Church 
 I belonged. I accused mother of telling you, 
 but she says she did not. 
 
 B. No, your mother and I have not had a 
 word in reference to your Church-relationship; 
 but it was useless to ask what I already knew. 
 
 E. How did you find it out ? 
 
 B. First, those books on the table made mo 
 fear. Then your husband and I walked out 
 the first evening after I came, and on our re- 
 turn we passed the Cathedral. I ventured 
 the question with great fear, "'Mr. Uzenia, to 
 what Church do you and your family belong? " 
 "I do not belong to any; my wife belongs to 
 the Catholic," was the reply. 
 
 Sabbath morning, March 31st, was gloomy. 
 The wind was driving the clouds up from tho 
 sea, and a storm was threatening. 
 
 E. Cousin, mother wishes you to have family- 
 prayers this morning. 
 
 B. Certainly, cousin, I will do so with pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 Evening-prayers had been attended to for 
 three successive evenings, but the holy Sabbath 
 was the first morning assemblage. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 53 
 
 A morning walk and talk with Cousin 
 George follows: 
 
 Bide. George, tell me : I find your sister Eula 
 a Roman Catholic, and I do not believe her to 
 be satisfied or happy. What are your views 
 on that subject? 
 
 George . I do not believe my sister is satisfied 
 either. And as for myself, I will never be a 
 Roman Catholic. I have seen so much of it 
 here I am sick of it. I have known some of 
 the priests of this place to go so far as to re- 
 quire the Catholic children to kneel down on 
 the streets when the bishop was passing. 
 
 B. Have you been solicited to join? 
 
 G. O yes, ever since I came to this place 
 three years since. One Sister in particular 
 has seemed to make me a specialty. She fre- 
 quently counseled with sister about me. For 
 a long time I avoided her attacks by not being 
 with her alone. One day Sister Lazarus told 
 sister she wanted to see me alone. So I thought, 
 If nothing else will do but she must try me, 
 all right. The following conversation ensued: 
 
 Sister Lazarus. Mr. George [familiarly, for 
 this is only his Christian name], why do you 
 not join the Church ? 
 
 G. The Church of my choice is not here. 
 
 S. L. But do you not like our Church? 
 
54 Cousijs Eula; or, 
 
 G. Not very well. 
 
 S. L. Well, why not, sir? What objections 
 have you? 
 
 G. Many. I object to your confession to 
 the priest. 
 
 S. L. Yon cannot be a Catholic unless you 
 confess to the priest. 
 
 G. So I am informed, and that alone is suf- 
 ficient to settle the question; for be assured 
 I will never make a confession to the priest. 
 Therefore, I will never be a Koman Catholic. 
 
 B. George, where are Cousin Eula's chil- 
 dren buried ? 
 
 G. Out in the new Catholic cemetery. 
 
 J5. I am sorry. 
 
 G. So am I; and I think sister is also. 
 
 J5. How came them buried in the Catholic 
 cemetery? Their mother was not a Catholic 
 at that time. 
 
 G. No, she was not; but the children were 
 christened Catholics before they died. I never 
 have seen as bright and strong-minded a girl 
 as little Alice. She was just seven. [A pause.] 
 During her sickness the Sisters of Charity were 
 constantly on hand, and continually insisted 
 on sister having Alice baptized, or else she 
 would be lost. Finally, it was plain little Alice 
 must die. The Sisters sent for the priest; he 
 
A Catholic Converted. 55 
 
 .* 
 
 came; he insisted on baptizing the child; sister 
 
 yielded. I never heard any thing like it. [Si- 
 lence and tears.] Little Alice said, " No, moth- 
 er, I do not want to be a Catholic. You know 
 grandmother is not a Catholic." 
 
 She had not forgotten her grandmother's 
 example and teachings, though she was only 
 five years old when she saw her last. But she 
 was christened a Catholic. Yes, dear little 
 Alice died a Catholic in name, a Protestant in 
 reality. Her name on earth is registered a 
 Catholic. Her body sleeps in the Catholic 
 cemetery. A cross, the first symbol of Catholic 
 aggressiveness, stands erected over her grave. 
 Her name is used to swell the statistics of the 
 Catholic Church in this world, but her name 
 is registered elsewhere; the recording angel 
 has written it in the "Lamb's book of life." 
 He wrote, moreover, what her spirit said: 
 "No, mother, I do not want to be a Catholic." 
 You may write her name among the statistics 
 of the earth, "Died a Catholic," but Heaven 
 denies, and Truth says she died protesting. 
 Her pure little spirit is in heaven now, singing 
 the song of redeeming love, and ascribing 
 praise to Him who only is our Priest — yes, 
 the Priest also of children; for it was Ho 
 who said, "Suffer the little children to como 
 
56 Cousin Etjla; or, 
 
 unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is 
 the kingdom of God." 
 
 Little Alice is no more. The mother is yet 
 firm. Books and persuasion have failed com- 
 paratively. Still the mother must be sought 
 after by those who are separated from the 
 pleasures of the world, and shut up in the 
 darkness of the convent away from the com- 
 forts of pure, genuine religion. It is a law of 
 carnality that misery in despair seeks to make 
 others miserable. It is this carnal, Satanic 
 spirit governing the devil and all his allied 
 forces. Hence the only happiness of these 
 obligated, imprisoned violators of Heaven's law 
 was to bring others into the same carnal secu- 
 rity. They had failed to reach the mother 
 through the first-born, although they taught 
 her in the convent-school. She was too bright 
 for one of her years: the mother, and especially 
 the grandmother, had left the impress of their 
 teachings too deep upon her mind to be erased 
 by after-teaching. 
 
 Yet there is another chance. Here is little 
 Lucy, only four years old now, still one year 
 younger than when Alice came under Catholic 
 influence. Besides, she was only two years 
 old when separated from her grandmother. 
 She had already been under their influence 
 
A Catholic Converted. 57 
 
 for two years, but now she is to have special 
 attention. Lucy was a sweet little pet, like 
 Alice before her. She seemed now not only to 
 be the idol of her mother, but of the Catholic 
 city. She was carried from house to house. 
 She was fondled upon Catholic knees. Many 
 presents of beautiful Catholic pictures were 
 hers. Pictures win children — Lucy was won. 
 One year after Alice's death came yellow fever. 
 There lay in that cottage-home Lucy and John- 
 nie, racked with pain and scorched with fever. 
 It was a distressing time. Assistance was 
 much needed, and highly appreciated. The 
 Sisters were very kind; they always are, but 
 for what? To win for the 'Church. Little 
 Lucy was christened a Catholic. She did say 
 (whether taught or not, I know not), " Mother, 
 I want you to join the Catholics, they are so 
 kind." Thus passed away little Lucy, to join 
 little Alice in heaven above. Now the work 
 was done; little Lucy was used as the key to 
 unlock the door. The long-fought battle was 
 over: it was not long until the mother joined 
 the Catholic Church — among other reasons 
 assigned w r as the lingering words of her last 
 little pet. 
 
 Kindness is sufficient to win children — it is 
 praiseworthy in its place ; but with the adult, 
 
58 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 it should not dethrone reason and win contrary 
 to reason. Nor is kindness religion. Paul 
 puts the question forcibly: "Though I bestow 
 all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give 
 my body to be burned, and' have not charity, 
 it profiteth me nothing." " Charity " — that is, 
 love, love toward God and man, love coming- 
 out of a pure, regenerated heart, cleansed by 
 the blood of Jesus, applied by the Holy Ghost. 
 No other agent is needed. 
 
 Those parents who send their children to 
 Catholic schools, or rear them under Catholic 
 influence, may expect their children to be 
 Catholics. Every thing in Catholicism is ar- 
 ranged to satisfy the carnal mind and unregen- 
 erated heart. While the lust of the eye and 
 the vanity of desire grow as the child grows, 
 it is promised satisfaction in the forms and 
 privileges of the Catholic religion. 
 
 We have said the work was done, the battle 
 won. But not always: there is a brighter day 
 coming. "Except the Lord build the house, 
 they labor in vain that build it." Yes, the day 
 is coming when this massive structure of man 
 will tumble and fall. Yes, the day is coming 
 when religious freedom will be enjoyed all 
 over this terrestrial ball as well as in the celes- 
 tial world. Yes, Christ Jesus, the Morning 
 
A Catholic Convehted. 59 
 
 Star — the true, real, and only Priest — is rising 
 now, and will shine behind the curtain. 
 
 Abject slaves of Rome, do you ask what of 
 your oppression, and bonds of tyranny? "We 
 answer in the language of the Holy Bible: 
 " For He must reign until He hath put all en- 
 emies under His feet." "Weep not: behold, 
 the Lion of the tribe of Juda, the Root of Da- 
 vid, hath prevailed to open the book." Do you 
 ask, When shall this dark oppression pass, and 
 the morning light come? We answer again 
 from the Bible and sacred poetry: "Watch- 
 man, what of the night? " The watchman said, 
 "The morning cometh, and also the night." 
 
 Roman Catholics, as well as Protestants, do 
 not believe the pretended infallibility of the 
 pope, nor the mockery of priestly confession. 
 The temporal power of the Church of Rome is 
 fast passing away. Its inside working and se- 
 cret chains will lose their strength as the light 
 shines in upon them, which shall soon come to 
 pass. Many will say, The morning is come; 
 the most formidable foe of our Lord and Mas- 
 ter Jesus Christ is put to confusion. And true, 
 the morning now dawns upon us, but only for 
 awhile. The bloody martyrdoms of past ages, 
 to some extent, may yet shade the light of the 
 morning. Many may yet be called upon to die 
 
60 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 for the truth. But let us hope that the last 
 night may be short, and thb morning come to 
 be blighted no more. Thy word, O Lord, is 
 the eternal truth! Let us sing together that 
 beautiful hymn of Bowring's, in answer to our 
 inquiry, "Watchman, what of the night?" 
 (Hymn 765, M. E. Church, South, Hymn-book.) 
 
 Watchman, tell us of the night, 
 
 What its signs of promise are. 
 Trav'ler, o'er yon mountain's height, 
 
 See that glory-beaming star. 
 Watchman, does its beauteous ray 
 
 Aught of hope or joy foretell? 
 Trav'ler, yes; it brings the day, 
 
 Promised day of Israel. 
 
 Watchman, tell us of the night; 
 
 Higher yet that star ascends. 
 Trav'ler, blessedness and light, 
 
 Peace and truth, its course portends. 
 Watchman, will its beams alone 
 
 Gild the spot that gave them birth? 
 Trav'ler, ages are its own ; 
 
 See! it bursts o'er all the earth. 
 
 Watchman, tell us of the night, 
 
 For the morning seems to dawn. 
 Trav'ler, darkness takes its flight, 
 
 Doubt and terror are withdrawn. 
 Watchman, let thy wand' rings cease; 
 
 I Tie thee lo thy quiet home. 
 Trav'ler, lo! the Prince of peace, 
 
 Lo! iIk* Son of < rod is come. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 61 
 
 Sabbath morning, at ten o'clock, we returned 
 from our morning walk. As we drew near the 
 house of my host, I said: " Cousin, it is proper 
 that we should attend Church somewhere to- 
 day — where shall we go?" 
 
 G. Sister says she wishes you would go with 
 her to the Catholic Church just once. 
 
 B. "Well, I should like if we could spend this 
 Sabbath together, as it is the first since child- 
 hood, and may be the last to old age, if ever. 
 I had really thought of proposing to Cousin 
 Eula to accompany her to her Church either 
 morning or evening, if she would consent to go 
 with me to the Presbyterian Church the other 
 service. 
 
 G. Your proposition could not be regarded 
 otherwise than fair, but I have no idea sister 
 wall accept. 
 
 It w r as now raining, and still threatening a 
 storm. We arrived at the house, and found the 
 mother bathed in tears. She said, " Eula has 
 gone to her Church." 
 
 Yes, reader, Eula was a conscientious wom- 
 an, seeking the freedom of her soul by every 
 sign and token of the Catholic Church. She 
 was conscious of a burden of soul. She had 
 made confession, and done penance, and lost 
 sleep, until she did appear unnatural, no mis- 
 
62 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 take. She had never failed to attend to every 
 assigned duty until Wednesday and Thursday 
 evening before. Oil Wednesday her own dear 
 mother came to see her, journeying a long 
 distance by land and sea. 'She had not seen 
 her in three years. No wonder she could not 
 leave her good old wearied, loving mother that 
 night. Yes, the mother was near sixty; the 
 frost of many winters were fast preparing her 
 honored head for the tomb. No wonder Eula 
 cried when she told her mother, " I cannot read 
 that book now, I am a Catholic." Wednesday 
 brought the minister and his wife. We were 
 on a mission five hundred miles away from our 
 old home and near relatives. We were not re- 
 ceiving traveling expenses, but hard earnings 
 of oth er days bore us to Saint Augustine. Once 
 more the cousins met. Twenty years and more 
 had passed since we innocently played to- 
 gether at the country school -house. No wonder 
 our cousin broke the rules, though we knew 
 it not then, for nothing had been said about 
 service at the Cathedral. Doubtless it seemed 
 now to the excited Catholic fraternity that the 
 mother had written to the minister — above all 
 others most likely to accomplish the object de- 
 sired, namely, the reclaiming of the daughter, 
 and bringing her back to the fold of the mother 
 
A Catholic Converted. 63 
 
 Church, the Church of her first love — to meet 
 her at the home of her daughter. This version 
 of our visit would be most natural, and no one 
 could be charged with being credulous for so 
 believing. But such was not the case; for 
 neither the mother nor the minister knew there 
 was a Catholic in that household. I believe 
 myself the plan was pre-arranged, but God 
 evidently did it. 
 
 Finding my cousin gone, I went first to a 
 missionary Sunday-school taught by the Pres- 
 byterians. It was in session when I entered. 
 I passed from class to class, asking permission 
 of the teachers to witness their instructions. 
 The school was composed of eight white teach- 
 ers, male and female, forty negroes, mostly 
 small, and seventeen Indians. I was agreeably 
 surprised to hear such perfect lessons from so 
 small negro children. As a race, it is due to 
 say they evidence a desire for scriptural knowl- 
 edge. As I looked upon the young lady teach- 
 ers taking such pains to teach those little ne- 
 groes the way to Christ, I really felt they were 
 more precious in my eye than the Queen of 
 England. And I feel now they are more than 
 queens in God's eye. 
 
 I listened to one Indian class recite in part. 
 They all read twice in concert the sixteenth 
 
64 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 verse of the third chapter of Saint John. Then 
 they were called upon to repeat it by memory 
 separately. Three out of four to whom I list- 
 ened were successful. How it would delight 
 the soul of every good man to hear these red 
 men of the forest repeat in broken English: 
 " For — God — so — loved — the — world — that — 
 he — gave — his — on-ly — be-got-ten — Son — 
 that — who-so-ev-er — be-liev-eth — in — him — 
 should — not — per-ish — but — have — ever-last- 
 ing — life! " I thought to myself that a sweeter 
 and more appropriate scripture could not have 
 been written upon the tablet of their hearts. 
 May be they will be converted and sent back 
 to Christianize and civilize their tribes. I 
 have just learned to-day that the Secretary of 
 War has ordered them to be sent back to Fort 
 Sill, whence they came three years ago. About 
 sixty of them have been at Saint Augustine for 
 three years. That the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, South, has let this golden opportunity 
 pass without teaching the poor Indian that 
 there is a better heaven than the hunting- 
 grounds of the West, and more noble aspira- 
 tions even for the Indian than the scalping of 
 the white man, as a member of said Church I 
 write it with pain, Shame, shame on us ! 
 
 You must allow me to again revert to those 
 
A Catholic Converted. 65 
 
 pious lady teachers. My mind called in com- 
 parison the work in which they were engaged 
 with that in which my cousin was engaged. 
 Also, in this service there was food for the soul, 
 that made happiness beam out through every 
 feature of the face; while in the other all was 
 mockery, and tended to despair. All this time 
 my soul was swelling with emotions of joyful 
 gratitude. My eyes were overflowing with 
 tears of joy. None knew the cause of their 
 flowing save the Infinite One. I was just 
 thanking God that a pure, spiritual-minded, 
 soul-comforting religion had been given to a 
 starving world of sinners, and that some of us 
 had drunk of the living waters. Moreover, 
 I was thinking, since such happiness is within 
 the reach of man, how strange he does not ac- 
 cept. I continued to think and feel for those 
 ingulfed in carnal security and man-worship 
 until I fully partook of the spirit of our Lord 
 and Master when he looked over Jerusalem, 
 perhaps weeping, afid said, "O Jerusalem, 
 Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and 
 stonest them that are sent unto thee; how 
 often would I have gathered thy children to- 
 gether, as a hen doth gather her brood under 
 her wings, and ye would not! " 
 
 While my mind was comparing true and 
 
66 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 false religion, my heart was in such emotion 
 that I hardly can tell whether the joy for those 
 in possession of the true, or the sympathy for 
 those possessed by the false, was in the ascend- 
 ency; but while the joy for the one, and the 
 sympathy for the other, are in contrast, yet 
 not in opposition, for all true lovers of the 
 Lord love the souls of men, and hate their sins, 
 though it be false religion and false worship. 
 Let those who read understand. A man's great 
 foes are within his own household; his great- 
 est foe is himself — self, the last enemy con- 
 quered this side of death and the grave. That 
 which nearest simulates the true Church of 
 Christ and real religion, yet is not real and 
 true, but contrary and opposed to the true, is 
 the most dangerous foe with which the true 
 Church of Christ has to contend; hence I write 
 it: The most dangerous and formidable foe of 
 the Church of Christ on earth is the Roman 
 Catholic Church. 
 
 I next attended the Presbyterian Church, 
 and heard the Rev. Charles F. Deems, D.D., 
 pastor of the " Church of the Strangers," New 
 York City, preach an excellent sermon, full of 
 food for the soul as well as the mind. His 
 text was in Revelation, which led me to think 
 of John the Beloved on the lonely Island of 
 
A Catholic Converted. 67 
 
 Patnios; yet not alone, for Jesus was there 
 with him. And though we be alone, and wan- 
 dering missionaries, may we not claim the 
 promise? For He hath said, "I will never 
 leave thee, nor forsake thee." "And lo, I am 
 with you alway, even unto the end of the world." 
 All this time my sympathy for one in particular 
 was consuming me. 
 
 Sabbath afternoon, about two o'clock, two of 
 the Sisters of Charity called around. They 
 were peculiarly dressed, with long black capes, 
 or coverings, over their heads. I was told their 
 heads were shaved. What a pity that the 
 glory of woman should be turned into shame ! 
 It is said their heads are shaved to keep down 
 self -pride, and to keep them humble in spirit; 
 but I rather think to keep them slaves, lest 
 they should go free from convent imprisonment. 
 Yes, I here assert that Roman Catholicism is 
 the most abject slavery of mind and soul the 
 world has ever known. After I was satisfied 
 that my cousin was in the sitting-room, I went 
 in, for I wanted her to introduce me. I was 
 then studying every movement. I took Sister 
 Lazarus to be about thirty-five years of age, 
 very talkative, rather familiar. She has ac- 
 cepted her situation in life, and is doing her 
 best to be happy in working for the Church. 
 
68 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 Sister Joseph I supposed to be between twenty- 
 five and thirty years of age. Evidently she 
 was unhappy; there was a soul within, like that 
 of my cousin, longing to be free, yet so faint of 
 hope that the sadness of despair was perched 
 upon the expression of her face. Sister Laza- 
 rus gave us some account of the convent-school. 
 In reply to a question, she assured us they 
 never made any effort to proselyte the children 
 of Protestant parents — an untruth as base as 
 the whole theory is false. As for myself, I did 
 but little talking. I was listening, thinking, 
 praying, and studying every look, sign, and 
 word. One purpose, fixed and sealed, absorbed 
 my whole heart, and that was by God's assist- 
 ance I intended to reclaim my cousin, for I 
 was satisfied she was unhappy. 
 
 S. L. to the mother. Are you sorry your daugh- 
 ter joined the Catholics? 
 
 Mother. Yes, very sorry. 
 
 She said no more then. 
 
 S. L. to cousin. Well, she is not sorry, for she 
 did it of her own accord. 
 
 During this last remark she closely eyed my 
 cousin, for she too had an object in view, and 
 that was to defeat the object of our visit, as 
 they supposed. Yes, she too was studying the 
 advance of the enemy. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 69 
 
 S. L. to cousin. Were you at Church to-day? 
 
 E. Yes, ma'am. 
 
 S. L. How did you like our new bishop? 
 
 E. He preached a very fine sermon. 
 
 My cousin made it convenient to inform 
 Sister Lazarus that I was a minister; for she 
 said afterward she knew I would speak my 
 sentiments boldly if asked, and she sought to 
 avoid Sister Lazarus's accustomed attack by 
 informing her what I was. But it all availed 
 nothing, as you will see. 
 
 S. L. to cousin. Ah, he is a minister! 
 
 5'. L. to the minister. Did you ever attend our 
 Church? 
 
 Minister. Only once. 
 
 S. L. Only one time. Well, what do you 
 think of us? 
 
 M. Well, ma'am, I think your Church an 
 abomination in the sight of the Lord. 
 
 S. L. You do? We do not think that way 
 about you. We think you are a good people, 
 but do not go far enough. You do not believe 
 in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, 
 and we do. 
 
 As if this was the only difference between 
 Protestantism and Roman Catholicism! If she 
 had known what Protestantism was, I should 
 have believed her to have been avoiding the 
 
70 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 truth. But when I remember she was reared 
 in France, and has always been a mental and 
 religious slave of the Church of Rome, I can 
 understand that she only knows the prime 
 reason why the immortal Luther left the 
 Church of Rome, and perhaps she thinks this 
 is all of Protestantism. She did not press her 
 suit any farther, but soon looked at the clock, 
 and said, "It is most three; we must be going." 
 
 After the Sisters and I were aside, my cous- 
 in jocosely said to my wife and her mother, 
 "While I am real sad, yet I feel like laughing 
 at Cousin Buie. He looked daggers at Sister 
 Lazarus." 
 
 I assure you, dear reader, I was not con- 
 scious of appearing ungenteel, or in any way 
 acting ungentlemanly toward the Sisters of 
 Charity; but as I have been told of this fault 
 before by familiar friends while I have been 
 engaged in anxious thought, perhaps I ought 
 to acknowledge the ground well taken. 
 
 In the afternoon it was my privilege to visit 
 the Presbyterian Sunday-school. It was an 
 excellent school, well conducted. In most re- 
 spects it might be considered a model school. 
 But one thing I saw pained me much: their 
 song-books were all marked, I suppose to keep 
 them from being lost; this was well, but they 
 
A Catholic Converted. 71 
 
 were marked with a cross. Doubtless they had 
 borrowed this Catholic symbol unthoughtf ully. 
 When will Protestant teachers and parents 
 learn the true fact that children are taught first 
 by signs? That which most quickly and forci- 
 bly attracts the eye, most quickly and forcibly 
 impresses the mind. With children especially 
 the eye is the organ most intimately connected 
 with the brain; hence the prominence of pict- 
 ures in the Koman Catholic economy. Not 
 only do they use them freely among their own 
 fraternity, but they send them through the 
 mail, and by agents, all over the country. They 
 are cheap, very cheap, on purpose. And un- 
 suspecting Protestants buy them to adorn their 
 walls, and thus prepare the mind of the chil- 
 dren for accepting the Catholic theory. Why 
 that picture of the " Holy Virgin " ? she was 
 only a woman. Why that double picture of 
 "Mary and Christ"? she was only a woman, 
 while he was God. Why the " Sacred Heart of 
 Christ"? Look at it with the dagger through 
 it! You behold it, and are taught to reverence 
 it. Thus you reverence the material Christ, 
 and lose sight of the spiritual Christ. Why 
 that " Sacred Heart of Mary " ? Of course, sa- 
 cred to Catholics, and must be reverenced equal 
 with Christ, and prayed to like Christ. So I 
 
72 
 
 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 might continue to enumerate, but let him that 
 readeth understand. "Be watchful," "Be so- 
 ber," " Be not deceived." " God is not mocked." 
 " For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he 
 also reap." 
 
A Catholic Convebted. 73 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Religious conversation — Christian experience — My mother 
 — My eldest sister, Cynthia — My youngest sister, Hattie. 
 
 It was Sabbath night, March 31, 1878. There 
 sat that night in the family-circle the mother, 
 the two children, Eula and George, the minis- 
 ter, and his w T ife. 
 
 As is often my custom, I suggested we have 
 a family religions conversation. The mother 
 spoke to us as follows: "It was some forty 
 years ago when I was early converted to God 
 at a camp-meeting. I feel that I still love my 
 Saviour and the Church, especially the Meth- 
 odist Church, for it was under its influence I 
 was brought to Christ when a gay girl. I have 
 an abiding faith in the promises of God, and 
 a strong hope of getting to heaven by and by. 
 I have tried to bring my children up in the 
 way in which they should go, and I daily pre- 
 sent them to God. I regret that I have not 
 been more faithful in all my duties, but I trust 
 God to forgive me my short - comings, and I 
 believe he has. I have a sweet peace abiding 
 within." 
 
 The two children had no Christian experi- 
 
74 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 ence to relate, but they sat silently listening to 
 the burning words of their loving mother, re- 
 solving to meet her in heaven. 
 
 The wife also spoke of her early conversion 
 to God, of her joyful triumphs in the Christian 
 race; also of her besetting sin, pride and vanity. 
 She had always wrestled with it — sometimes 
 conquering, sometimes being conquered. For 
 six years, since she had been the wife of a 
 minister, she had endeavored to do her whole 
 duty, and be a helpmeet indeed, not hindering, 
 but assisting, the work of her husband; felt 
 that her part was poorly done, but desired 
 above all to fill the sphere in life to which she 
 was wedded; felt she was happy that she was 
 joined to so great a work. 
 
 Reader, we never felt otherwise than that 
 God directed our union. 
 
 Next came the minister's turn to speak in that 
 family love-feast, and freely did I talk, for my 
 heart burned within me that night as did the 
 disciples' when Christ talked to them by the 
 way. I told them how I was convinced of sin 
 at twelve years of age. At fourteen I sought 
 the Saviour, during an old-field Methodist re- 
 vival. After three days and nights of honest 
 seeking religion at the altar of prayer, where 
 thousands have been converted, I was born to 
 
A Catholic Converted. 75 
 
 Jesus. I did not need any one to tell me ; Jesus 
 made me feel it all. I arose from the altar, 
 and went and sat on my mother's knees. Chil- 
 dren should be encouraged to seek religion; it 
 is as sweet to them as grown people, and Jesus 
 knows as well how to make himself known to 
 children as to adults. He loves them as well, 
 and is just as willing to save them, and make 
 them happy. I felt it my duty then to pray in 
 my father's family, and by and by to preach 
 the gospel. A couple of years brought the 
 civil war, and I tendered my services as a sol- 
 dier. I told them of my vow during the war: 
 "O God, save me alive through this cruel war! 
 Let me see my mother and the family again, 
 and then I will preach the gospel." I told 
 them how her son (their brother) and I re- 
 treated from the battle-field — I wounded, he 
 escaped. With me the war was over so far as 
 my exposure to the battle-field was concerned. 
 But that vow, it was upon me; shall I ever pay 
 it? One month passed in the hospital, and 
 then I went to the refugee home of my father 
 and elder sister. With my wound came sick- 
 ness, all to bring me in subjection to God's 
 will. But wound and sickness for eight months 
 were not sufficient. Eight months of sickness 
 and convalescence had passed, and then I felt 
 
76 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 my sickness was ended. I will soon get well 
 to do good or evil. O it was an eventful hour 
 in my history! I could not afford to miss 
 heaven. I believed my soldier - brother was 
 there; I believed my mother was on the way, 
 and all the good of all ages past are there; 
 above all, Jesus is there, and if I failed I 
 intended to die trying. Family-prayer and 
 preaching were the burdens my soul had been 
 carrying for a long time, but could, not longer 
 carry without divine assistance. As I felt the 
 great issue of human happiness or misery had 
 come to a final test, I fasted, prayed, and 
 talked of our blessed Saviour for forty-eight 
 hours. Yes, during these two days and nights 
 I neither ate, drank, nor slept. My poor father 
 did think me in a queer way. He paced the 
 floor, and was greatly troubled. At the expira- 
 tion of the time above mentioned I did find 
 that heavenly grace I had so long sought, 
 which enabled me to do my duty. I said, " Fa- 
 ther, I have a long time felt it my duty to hold 
 family-prayer, and by and by to preach. Can 
 I have your permission? " " Certainly, my son, 
 whatever you wish," was the kind reply. I did 
 there pray my first oral prayer, and was very 
 happy. Since then all the family have been 
 converted except father. Mother and four sis- 
 
A Catholic Converted. 77 
 
 ters have gone up to heaven. The three boys 
 are all at home— all endeavoring to be relig- 
 ious. I would be pleased if God would call 
 them to preach. 
 
 I want to tell you of mother and sister 
 Cynthia. You know, aunt, mother had a 
 hacking cough before you left the up-country. 
 She never recovered from it. It terminated in 
 consumption, and ended her life the twenty- 
 fifth of July last. Sister Cynthia had con- 
 sumption also. She passed away the same 
 day, just eight and three-quarter hours before 
 my precious mother. Mother began crossing 
 the stream of death at five o'clock in the even- 
 ing. She was about eighteen and a-half hours 
 'crossing. Sister Cynthia was in an opposite 
 room, with hall between. She could see my 
 mother. She lifted her eyes toward heaven, 
 as if praying for grace to bear it. But her hus- 
 band, sitting by her bedside, thought she was 
 asking to go also; for she had previously said 
 to me, "If God is willing, I would like to die 
 with my mother." We had thought she would 
 be with us a few days longer; but God's 
 thoughts are above our thoughts, and his ways 
 are not like our ways. Just a quarter to three 
 in the morning I was hurriedly summoned to 
 
78 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 the bedside of my sister. It was to witness but 
 one breath, and all was over. Her pure spirit 
 had flown. A younger brother passing through 
 my mother's room soon after, weeping, my 
 mother said, " Crawford, is ybur sister dying? " 
 She was answered, "No, mother, she is dead." 
 Yes, it was just about the time the morning- 
 star was rising to tell the watchman " the morn- 
 ing cometh " that the spirit of my dear sister 
 became a shining star in the crown of the risen 
 Lord. 
 
 During the night, as I watched by the side 
 of my mother, and felt her pulse, she said, 
 "How long before I shall go?" "Not before 
 morning, mother." "Do not pray for me to 
 stay; I want to go." " Is it hard to die, mother? " 
 " Not hard, except bodily suffering." Then she ' 
 said, " The promise is, ' I will never leave thee, 
 nor forsake thee.'" She said to the younger 
 boys, " My sons, I have been praying for your 
 father nearly forty years. I am dying now, 
 but may be God will convert him yet." The 
 morning came. We were sorrowful, yet happy. 
 The great sun of the day rose brightly in the 
 eastern horizon, and began its usual course; 
 but it seemed another sun was setting, another 
 star was rising still brighter, to burst its beau- 
 teous rays of light in the New Jerusalem — it 
 
A Catholic Converted. 79 
 
 was in the person of one of the best mothers 
 the world ever knew. The light of life was 
 fading, its rays were sinking fast, but only to 
 shine on the other side through the portal- 
 gates of glory. The husband, the children, a 
 daughter-in-law, sons-in-law, a few neighbors, 
 one or two faithful servants, stood around her 
 bed while she extended her hand and gave each 
 one a farewell blessing, bidding us meet her in 
 heaven. But God's appointed time was not 
 yet. As the morning passed on, and relatives 
 and friends came in, she continued to each her 
 farewell shake of the hand, and parting bene- 
 diction to meet her in heaven. Eleven o'clock 
 a.m. brought the Eev. R. H. Parker, of the 
 Holston Conference, pastor of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church, South, Chattanooga, Ten- 
 nessee. It also brought the last sinking stage 
 of my dying mother. 
 
 We were all again summoned to look on as 
 she was passing through the land of Beulah. 
 As my father drew near, my mother said, 
 "Turn, turn to Jesus; why will you die?" 
 This was her last sermon. Jesus was her 
 theme while living, Jesus was her theme when 
 dying. My mother asked, as I sat by her side, 
 "Why don't you pray?" "Mother, we aro 
 praying all the time." But soon I guessed her 
 
80 Cousin Eul.v; ok, 
 
 meaning better, for she could hardly speak 
 then. " Mother, do yon want Brother Parker 
 to lead us in prayer?" "Yes." All knelt 
 but myself. I sat as watch over my mother. 
 Brother Parker offered a beautiful prayer. I 
 saw my father kneel, and tremble like an aspen- 
 leaf. I thought, There is yet hope for the sal- 
 vation of my father. Prayer over, mother called 
 for a song. A hymn was sung. I then said, 
 "Mother, do you want more singing? " "No, 
 my son." She was full of song herself. She 
 said, in poetic strain, "Jesus is coming! he 
 comes now! Glory be to God! glory, glory! 
 Jesus! heaven!" And these were the last 
 words of my dying mother. 
 
 But, dear reader, do not suppose this con- 
 versation occurred in the same length of time 
 it has required you to read it. O no — much 
 longer; for there were moments of silence, 
 when our handkerchiefs were brought into 
 requisition. We sighed, we cried; our hearts 
 burned within us. We resolved to meet them in 
 heaven. Among us of tender heart was Cousin 
 Eula, her face bathed in tears, longing for that 
 religion of heart that gives genuine peace. 
 
 May be you will not think me tedious in 
 this chapter if I tell you more of our talk 
 with aunt and cousins. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 81 
 
 The next day there lay in the hall two rose- 
 wood caskets, side by side. They contained 
 the bodies from whence two pure spirits had 
 flown. The Rev. Thomas McCauley and the 
 Rev. R. H. Parker attended the funeral serv- 
 ices — one a Presbyterian minister, the other 
 a Methodist; for my mother was a Presbyte- 
 rian, and my sister a Methodist. About two 
 hundred persons attended the funeral. The 
 ministers did their part well; but all did not 
 satisfy my longing soul. I arose, and said, "I 
 want to say to neighbors and friends, this is a 
 memorable day in our family. After to-day 
 we shall never look upon their faces again 
 until the resurrection morning. I have no 
 fears but they are safe now. We are all sor- 
 rowful, yet happy in the trust in gospel truth 
 and redeeming grace. Our family are now 
 just half divided — mother and half the chil- 
 dren are now gone. We confidently believe 
 they are gone to glory. Father and five of us 
 are yet alive : what our end shall be God only 
 knows. As for myself, by God's grace I in- 
 tend to make heaven my home. For seven- 
 teen years I have prayed that our family 
 might be one in heaven; that we might, when 
 earth was no more, form a golden chain with- 
 out a missing link around the great white 
 6 
 
82 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 throne in glory. God's hand is in all this. 
 He may be answering my prayers in this way. 
 I shall pray on. If it takes this to lead us all 
 to heaven, I say Amen. "Who will be next? 
 If it is I, I feel I am ready." 
 
 During these remarks my father, who sat 
 near by, trembled and wept. Before the beau- 
 tiful caskets were finally closed, my father led 
 the way, and imprinted a kiss upon each of 
 the foreheads of those we had so dearly loved. 
 We all followed, and did likewise. I felt they 
 were kisses of promise — " We will meet you 
 in heaven." Heaven, sweet heaven! it has 
 always seemed nearer since my mother has 
 gone there. They were both deeply pious — 
 their prayers were very sweet in the country 
 church. The community missed them much 
 ■ — the family missed them more. 
 
 Again I entered my work of love — preach- 
 ing Christ. Just two weeks passed away, and 
 I saw my youngest and last sister, Hattie, 
 suffer twenty-four hours, when death, stern, 
 unrelenting, set free her gentle spirit. She 
 was a good woman, retiring in her manners, 
 while a lamblike, dovelike spirit was hers; yet 
 she was accustomed to lead others to the altar 
 of prayer and to Christ. This was to us the 
 
A Catholic Converted. 83 
 
 destructive lightning flash, the pealing thun- 
 der. It came, too, at a time when we were 
 looking for the gentle dew of heaven. She 
 left us no dying testimony, but her life was 
 so gentle and pure none was needed to insure 
 us of the rest of the spirit. Again our house 
 was draped in mourning. Again the funeral 
 announcement was sent out. Again the min- 
 ister — the Eev. R. H. Parker — was sent for; 
 he came, and preached her funeral - sermon. 
 Again another beautiful rose-wood casket 
 marked the place where two had lain just two 
 weeks before. Now there is but one coffin, 
 but within lies a mother, and on each arm a 
 sweet babe, that perished ere they lived. The 
 cemetery was once more visited, and our dead, 
 but not lost, were laid there. 
 
 That night the Rev. R. H. Parker and 
 others were with us. After a sad meal, a fam- 
 ily prayer - meeting was suggested. My fa- 
 ther's permission was asked and granted. 
 After a hymn was sung, Brother Parker led 
 us in an appropriate prayer for the broken- 
 hearted family. Alternately we sung and 
 prayed. Sweet, loving prayers of resignation 
 were offered by Cousin Foster, Brother James, 
 brothers-in-law William and Alexander Haw- 
 kins, my wife, and myself. Brother Alexan- 
 
84 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 der's prayer — the last bereaved husband — I 
 shall never forget, a part of which I will here 
 record. He said, slowly: "O Lord, there has 
 been one accustomed to kneel with us who is 
 absent to-night; there is a vacant place in our 
 hearts the world can never fill. Come, O 
 Lord Jesus, and fill it now. O Lord, thou 
 didst give to me, in answer to prayer, my dear 
 Hattie; thou hast taken her away; blessed be 
 the name of the Lord. Amen." It was indeed 
 a prayer of resignation, and we all so felt it, 
 and have tried to be resigned. The prayer- 
 meeting closed with an exhortation from 
 Brother Parker, and a proposition to all pres- 
 ent who would try to meet our beloved dead 
 in heaven to manifest it. All present, includ- 
 ing my father, gave their hand. O Lord, help 
 us to redeem our vows! You may think 
 strange, aunt, but that very night, in the 
 same room where my mother died, shouting, 
 some two weeks before, I was able to praise 
 God. Yes, I believe that each and all of us 
 found grace to kiss the rod that struck the 
 blow. 
 
 But to return to my direct Christian expe- 
 rience. I too have my regrets on account of 
 neglected duty, for which I pray God to for- 
 give me. My idea of the rule of right and 
 
A Catholic Converted. 85 
 
 wrong is God's will; any other standard o£ 
 right and wrong I regard as false. My idea 
 of living in the discharge of Christian duty is 
 to obey every impression of the Holy Ghost. 
 To disobey God's word, or the Holy Spirit, is 
 sin. Generally, I have obeyed the Spirit, and 
 been happy; but a few times I have deeply 
 grieved the Spirit — twice in particular the 
 vivid impression is on my mind. Some years 
 ago I was very happy in my room at a late 
 hour of the night — perhaps it was about the 
 time of night that Paul and Silas prayed and 
 sung together in prison. I felt that I ought 
 to arise and dress myself, and go and present 
 the claims of Christ to my father. I did not 
 — I grieved the Holy Spirit. Had I done my 
 duty, perhaps that night my father might have 
 been converted. Of one thing I am sure : had 
 I not suppressed the Spirit, my father's house 
 would have been vocal with shouts to God 
 that night. Another time was after my mother 
 died. It was again in the night-watch. I felt, 
 I am sure now, if I will go and present "Jesus, 
 the only name," to my father, he will be con- 
 verted. But again I did not. I feel to-night 
 that God has forgiven me, and if we see each 
 other's face again, I will try to do my duty 
 to my father. He is now nearing four-score 
 
86 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 years. But God is able to do all things — there 
 is yet hope. 
 
 The hour of retirement had arrived. My 
 aunt proposed prayers. I could but say, 
 "You must excuse me to-lright; my soul is too 
 happy." My aunt and Cousin George left the 
 parlor, but my Cousin Eula remained, her 
 face hid for a time in her handkerchief, and 
 doubtless wondering, "Shall I ever realize 
 that joy that maketh the heart glad? " 
 
A Catholic Convekted. 87 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 My cousin is unhappy — Faith — Justification — Grace — 
 Witness of the Spirit. 
 
 Being left to ourselves, after a pause, I said 
 to Cousin Eula, "Are you happy to-night? " 
 
 Eida. Not happy, Cousin Buie; I have not 
 been satisfied with my religion to-day. I do 
 not know what I am to do. I have honestly 
 been seeking happiness for the last two years, 
 but I have not found it. I did every thing I 
 knew to do, and, as a last resort, I joined the 
 Catholics. But still I am very unhappy — I am 
 lost! Others may be happy, but I never more 
 shall be happy. 
 
 Buie. Cousin, you need not despair. Others 
 worse than you have been saved; and so can 
 you be saved. 
 
 E. Do you think so? 
 
 B. I know so, if you will use the proper 
 means. Paul was of the Pharisaical sect — 
 a persecutor of the followers of Jesus. He 
 stood by and held the clothes of those who 
 slew Stephen, consenting to his death. t He 
 was particeps criminis to the crime. After- 
 
88 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 ward, lie was on his way to Damascus, breath- 
 ing out threatenings against the disciples of 
 the Lord. "And as he journeyed, he came 
 near Damascus; and suddenly there shined 
 about him a light from 'heaven." He also 
 heard a voice. It was the voice of Jesus call- 
 ing him to repentance and duty: "Saul, Saul, 
 why persecutest thou me?" What could he 
 have answered but "Lord, what wilt thou 
 have me to do? " The Lord showed him that 
 the very one he had been persecuting he must 
 now trust. Saul was there converted, and 
 became ever afterward the noble Paul. The 
 secret of his success and grand character was 
 in his words, "Lord, what wilt thou have me 
 to do? " And this too is the key-note for all 
 who would be happy. When honestly asked, 
 with a fixed purpose to obey, God's answer 
 always opens the flood-gates of glory, and 
 lets the light of heaven into the soul of the 
 asker. 
 
 And now, cousin, I must say to you that 
 heretofore your faith has not been well 
 founded. You must turn away from priest- 
 ly mockery, and put your entire trust in 
 Jesus, "for his name is the only name 
 whereby we can be saved." Faith in Christ, 
 and in Christ only, is the foundation of the 
 
A Catholic Converted. 89 
 
 Christian religion. What yon need, my dear 
 cousin, is peace — peace of soul, peace with 
 God. It is that peace that is sometimes de- 
 scribed as flowing like a deep, gentle river; for 
 deep in the sonl is the peace of a real Chris- 
 tian. It passeth all understanding, for it is 
 the peace of infinitude, not entirely to be com- 
 prehended by the finite mind. Such a peace is 
 found in believing on the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 I will now explain to you the remedial plan 
 of salvation — Faith: "Whosoever believeth 
 on Him shall not perish, but have eternal 
 life." "Therefore, being justified by faith, 
 we have peace with God through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ." We have in this text "faith," 
 "justification," "peace," "God the Father," 
 "our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 To-night your heart condemns you. If our 
 hearts condemn us, God is greater than our 
 hearts. What you want is peace of soul and 
 peace with God, under whose condemnation 
 you feel you rest. Such a peace is promised 
 in our text. The means by which it is to be 
 obtained is Christ the Lord. He is the grace 
 manifest to us, and Mediator between us and 
 God. The condition on your part is faith in 
 his name. Faith brings justification; and 
 peace flows from justification like water from 
 
90 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 a spring. I have said faith was the foundation- 
 stone of the Christian religion, and this you 
 must have before you can be justified. It is 
 said by some that faith is only mystified by an 
 effort to explain it; but I do not think so. Let 
 us see if we can explain and comprehend it: 
 Faith is the gift of God, as " Every good gift 
 and every perfect gift is from above, and Com- 
 eth down from the Father of lights, with whom 
 is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." 
 Faith is the gift of God through the Son. He 
 gives the ability to believe, and the evidence 
 upon which our faith is grounded. Faith is 
 an act, and that too our own act. It is an act 
 of the mind and the heart: the mind assents 
 to the truths of revelation ; upon which our 
 faith is based, and the heart takes hold of 
 those truths trustingly. Let us illustrate 
 this statement from the Scriptures: "But 
 without faith it is impossible to please him; 
 for he that cometh to God must believe that 
 he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that 
 diligently seek him." In the first proposition 
 in this quotation we have the assent of the 
 mind — that is ; "God is," or exists. Many 
 believe that Jesus is the Christ — that he is 
 the Messiah; the devils believed and trembled 
 — but all are not saved. To believe that God 
 
A Catholic Converted. 91 
 
 and Christ are — that is, do exist — is orthodox 
 faith, but not saving faith. Thus far you 
 have no difficulty in going. You can truly say 
 to all this, " I believe ; " but saving faith, or 
 the faith that justifies, is taking hold of this 
 orthodox faith with the heart, and holding on 
 trustingly. Saving faith is illustrated in the 
 second proposition of the quotation — that is, 
 believing "that he is a rewarder of them 
 that diligently seek him." Such a faith is 
 Christian faith, because it applies Christ's 
 merits and virtue to our own conscious need. 
 The first is the same kind of faith we would 
 have in any historical truth demonstrated 
 beyond doubt; hence it might be termed an 
 historical faith, such as sinful men and devils 
 have. Saving faith may be again illustrated 
 from the Scriptures: "That if thou shalt con- 
 fess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus [this is 
 the acknowledgment of the assent of the 
 mind], and shalt believe in thine heart that 
 God hath raised him from the dead, thou 
 shalt be saved. For with the heart man 
 believeth unto righteousness, and with the 
 mouth confession is made unto salvation." 
 Then it is in the heart we exercise a saving 
 faith, and " out of the abundance of the heart 
 the mouth speaketh." 
 
92 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 Just here let us consider the duty of re- 
 pentance, after which we will again resume 
 the main subject — Faith. Paul seems to have 
 ignored repentance as a non-essential to salva- 
 tion. Paul would not have us ignore it, but 
 understand it. Eepentance, really and script- 
 urally, is not a separate and distinct doctrine 
 like faith, but is a classification of faith, insep- 
 arably interwoven with faith, and a part 
 of the same. Repentance is a part of 
 faith, lying between the assent of the mind 
 and the trusting of the heart. The person 
 assenting to God's truths, suffering the 
 same to take root in the heart, leads to 
 a godly sorrow for sin, which is repent- 
 ance. Moreover, repentance is the heart 
 renouncing sin, being sick of sin, and on 
 account of sin. Thus the heart is softened 
 and prepared for trusting to else than itself. 
 The assenting mind points the sick heart to 
 Jesus, the Physician for the soul. Eepent- 
 ance is like medicine: for a time it makes the 
 patient sicker. So repentance breaks up the 
 fallow-ground of the heart, preparing it for 
 the higher order of faith, or the lodgment 
 of truths heretofore assented to only by the 
 mind. Faith, as a whole, leads through repent- 
 ance; and repentance, considered abstractly, 
 
A Catholic Converted. 93 
 
 is a continuation of faith, begun in assent to 
 the trust of the heart. The assent may exist 
 without the godly sorrow. The assent and 
 godly sorrow may exist without the heart 
 believing unto righteousness; for the "heart 
 that is deceitful above all things " often rebels 
 after it has been softened. Repentance, then, 
 is inseparable from a complete faith, and com- 
 prehended in it. This is why Paul appears to 
 ignore it: it is only apparent; it is compre- 
 hended in that one word — faith. And this is 
 why we say, " Wherefore we are saved by faith 
 only, is a wholesome doctrine, and very full of 
 comfort." 
 
 Now, to return to faith: How shall you 
 exercise it to justification? is the question 
 that mostly concerns you. Now, cousin, you 
 are orthodox in your faith. You believe that 
 God does exist; you believe that God was 
 manifest in the flesh, in the person of his Son 
 Jesus Christ; you believe all the historical facts 
 of the New Testament in reference to the claims 
 of Jesus; you believe the whole of the Apos- 
 tles' Creed. You lack something yet, but that 
 has been going on; the fallow-ground of your 
 heart has been under cultivation for two 
 years; these truths have been sinking down 
 into your heart. It is true you are very 
 
94 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 unhappy now, and are drinking the bitter cup 
 of repentance; but it will only make the 
 sweet sweeter. Moreover, you have been 
 seeking Christ and happiness for two years, 
 but found them not — "the blind leading the 
 blind" — but do not despair; there is yet hope. 
 It is true that sadness of despair and despond- 
 ency of spirit are yours. If you have dili- 
 gently sought, why have you not found? Be- 
 cause you did not believe " He will now reward 
 me." Indeed, you are now despairing, and 
 not looking for blessings of peace. 
 
 Again, faith is a present matter; there is 
 nothing future about it in the matter of sav- 
 ing mercy. As to the time when you may be 
 saved, it is always now. "Believe, and you 
 shall be made whole." Again, "Without 
 faith we cannot please Him." By faith we 
 honor God; by disbelieving we dishonor God, 
 and he is justly displeased with us. Let us 
 illustrate this by the relation of parent and 
 child. Suppose I have received from my 
 father many tokens of his kindness. When I 
 ask a favor of him, I ask believing I shall re- 
 ceive it, if in his judgment he thinks it best. 
 My faith is based upon a knowledge of my 
 father, and his past manifestations of love to 
 me. Having received ninety-nine favors from 
 
A Catholic Converted. 95 
 
 him, and never been denied one without good 
 reasons, I think I should dishonor my father 
 if I were to ask the hundredth favor, and at the 
 same time manifest a want of confidence. It 
 seems he would be justified in being displeased 
 with me. Just so it is between God and us. 
 He has bestowed upon us out of his treasure- 
 house bountiful blessings; he has created us, 
 preserved us; indirectly he feeds and clothes 
 us; he sends the rain and sunshine; he maketh 
 the earth to yield us its fruits; he has given us 
 dominion over the beast and cattle, the fishes 
 and fowls. Then he has looked upon us in our 
 sin and misery, and given us his Son, and the 
 Son has given his life for us. And then he has 
 bid us a ask, and we shall receive." Now T , to 
 disbelieve God in this greatest blessing of all, 
 is to dishonor God, and he is justly displeased 
 with us. He is willing to forgive and bless us, 
 but this once he demands of us faith. There- 
 fore, you must believe or perish. In putting our 
 trust in God, we are to walk by faith, and not 
 by sight. Yet faith is not blind. Faith is 
 based upon many infallible evidences. If no 
 other evidence, God's manifest love to us in 
 the gift of his Son, and the revelation of his 
 will,, are sufficient, upon which you and I may 
 safely base our faith. 
 
96 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 Faith brings justification. So we will con- 
 sider this subject next. Justification is an act 
 in the mind of God. It is an act of forgive- 
 ness — an act remitting the penalty due our 
 sins. Let us illustrate : Suppose I am a con- 
 demned criminal under the laws of the State. 
 Petition is made to the Governor of the State 
 for my reprieve. He grants the reprieve asked 
 for. In doing so, he remits the penalty due my 
 crime. He virtually forgives me. He lets me 
 go a free citizen. I am not afraid of being 
 apprehended; and if I should be, here is my 
 reprieve, with the Governor's seal and signa- 
 ture. Therefore, I am as free as any other 
 citizen. But the crime is against me still, only 
 the penalty is removed. I can never forget 
 the crime; the scars of guilt are fixtures; yet 
 underneath those scars my freedom is written, 
 with a signature and seal that no citizen of my 
 country can gainsay. Just so to-night your 
 crime of sins is weighing you down. You 
 can but petition Christ and believe. He will 
 forgive, justify you, and then you will be 
 happy. You can never forget your sins; the 
 scars will be there; but underneath those scars 
 will be written, with the blood of Jesus, sealed 
 with his own signature by the hand of the 
 Holy Ghost, "I freely all forgive." The pen- 
 
A Catholic Converted. 97 
 
 alty remitted is justification. At the same 
 time this act of justification takes place in the 
 mind of God, the Holy Ghost makes an appli- 
 cation of the blood of Jesus to your spirit, 
 cleansing you from all sin. This is regenera- 
 tion, or being born of the Holy Ghost. The 
 condition upon your part is faith, and faith 
 only. This new birth is sometimes termed 
 conversion, from the words — vertere, to turn, and 
 con, again, or right-about. So our spirits are 
 changed from nature to grace, from darkness 
 to light, from sin to righteousness. We are 
 made new creatures. The old Adam is buried 
 or cast out — that is, our evil nature; the new 
 man, Christ Jesus, is raised up in us to new- 
 ness of life. Hence we begin a new life, a 
 spiritual life. That there are mysteries in the 
 new birth that we do not understand I do not 
 deny; for it is one of the greatest miracles 
 ever performed — a miracle calling forth the 
 divine power of the combined Godhead. It is 
 a miracle in which all other miracles con- 
 summate. The new birth is the first grand feat 
 of victory to us in the remedial plan of salva- 
 tion. Unless this miracle is wrought in us 
 through the office of the Holy Ghost, real 
 happiness is a stranger, and heaven a myth. 
 Its mysteries being incomprehensible to the 
 7 
 
98 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 finite mind does not make it the less desirable 
 or important. We know bat little of God and 
 his modes of operation in the material or spirit- 
 ual world, except as he reveals them to us; but 
 this much we may know and fully comprehend 
 — and we ought not to be satisfied with less — 
 that is, that the new birth has been wrought in 
 us. The blind man did not comprehend how 
 Jesus restored him to sight, but this much he 
 could confidently declare, "that whereas I was 
 blind, now I see." This much we may realize, 
 " The things I once hated I now love, and the 
 things I once loved I now hate." And that 
 his " Spirit beareth witness with my spirit that 
 I am a child of God." To be a child of God 
 is sufficient for me at present. But we cannot 
 expect even a child of God to know all myste- 
 ries; but with Paul we can say, "Now I know 
 in part, but then shall I know even as also I 
 am known" — "then," that is, when we get to 
 heaven. I am willing to let these mysteries 
 remain hid until I " see the Lord face to face." 
 But farther, cousin, we are not saved with- 
 out grace. So we will now consider the re- 
 lation of grace to the plan of salvation. We 
 read, "By grace are ye saved through faith." 
 Grace is divine favor. God's grace is manifest 
 to us in the gift of his Son to die for us. The 
 
A Catholic Conyekted. 99 
 
 grace .of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, is 
 manifest to us in the office of the Son and Holy 
 Ghost. It is farther manifest in the revelation 
 of his will — the institution of the Church, and 
 the calling of men to preach the gospel. Thus 
 by grace, as a means through faith as a con- 
 dition, you are to be saved. This last script- 
 ure is in harmony with Bom v. 1: "Being 
 justified by faith, we have peace with God." 
 How? " Through our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 Here Christ is the efficient means — the grace 
 is in Christ. Never can you or any one else be 
 saved out of Christ. Hence I say you are 
 saved by grace, through faith. Grace — Christ 
 is the grace, or efficient means, manifest unto 
 us in many ways. The faith must exist in you. 
 The next point for consideration is, What 
 you are to be saved from. You are to be saved 
 from sin, and the penalty of sin. What is sin? 
 We answer, That which is offensive in the sight 
 of God is sin. Whatever is contrary to his will 
 is sin. Now I must say that you, and every 
 one else who knows better, and who prays to 
 the Virgin Mary, or any other saint, or con- 
 fesses to the priest, or are guilty of other prac- 
 tices of the Church of Borne, are guilty of sin. 
 In other words, no one can — except ignorantly 
 ■ — practice the teachings of the Roman Catholic 
 
100 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 Church without being guilty of idolatry, which 
 is sin. 
 
 E. Cousin, if I could only exercise saving 
 faith, I would give up eve^y thing; but I am 
 miserable, and there is no hope for me. 
 
 B. Cousin, I knew you were miserable be- 
 fore you told me, and yet there is hope for 
 you. There has been a lamp burning in your 
 room all night, which, with your unnatural ap- 
 pearance, told me the sad story of the misery 
 of your soul. 
 
 E. Tell me, how did you learn about the 
 burning lamp ? 
 
 B. The first night after I came I heard you 
 say to your mother, " I am so nervous I can- 
 not sleep without a light burning in my room." 
 Every night, upon waking, or early in the morn- 
 ing, I discovered the light shining through the 
 top of the door that separates our rooms. It 
 has not disturbed me, except it has told me 
 the unhappy state of your mind. You are not 
 afraid of any one breaking into your house. 
 Your doors and windows are well secured. 
 Usually your husband is with you as your pro- 
 tector. You are only afraid of the dark. You 
 know not why it is so. It was not thus with 
 you in your innocent childhood. The reason 
 is plain to me. For two years you have been 
 
A Catholic Converted. 101 
 
 sorrowful on account of sin. At length, you 
 committed the keeping of your soul to the 
 Church of Rome, but only to add fuel to the 
 fire of your misery. Hence you have fallen 
 into this injurious habit of burning a lamp at 
 night, both damaging to the body and mind. 
 The imperfections escaping from the burning 
 oil confined in your close room has damaged 
 your health; especially are your nerves shat- 
 tered, which are closely connected with the 
 brain. The light has prevented sound sleep, 
 hence the mind does not get its needed rest. 
 Instead of finding upon waking in the morn- 
 ing your mind and body refreshed, you awake 
 to find yourself weary. And, really, under 
 these circumstances, life itself has been a bur- 
 den to you. And yet I say there is hope. You 
 can be a happy woman yet if you will cast all 
 your care on Jesus, "who careth for you." 
 Now, let me make a suggestion: We have but- 
 half the night to sleep; you need sleep much; 
 suppose you extinguish your lamp to-night, 
 and take refreshing sleep. 
 
 E. Why, cousin, I could not sleep a wink if 
 I were to extinguish my lamp. 
 
 B. But, Cousin Eula, I am proposing for 
 you to enter upon a new era of life. You are 
 burning that lamp as company — even putting 
 
102 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 your trust in it — making it your guardian 
 angel; but I am now proposing for you to 
 trust Christ, and be happy. As little and in- 
 significant a thing as that lamp is, just as long 
 as you trust in it, it shows a^want of confidence 
 in God. " Our God is a jealous God." He will 
 not allow any thing, however small or great, to 
 come between us and himself. Again let me 
 ask you to try it to-night, and I hope to see 
 you happy in the morning. 
 
 E. Well, cousin, I will try it this one night. 
 
 B. Very well. May God bless you in the 
 act of trying to trust him! Good-night. 
 
 E. Thank you. Good-night. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 103 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Catholics alarmed — Wilderness state — Prodigal returning 
 — Works — Tears — Eula confesses the truth. 
 
 It was Monday evening, April 1, 1880. After 
 tea I was writing, when cousin came into my 
 room. I said, " Cousin, can I have a conver- 
 sation with you at this time? " 
 
 Eula. I am more than willing; you have in- 
 terested me much, and I will be glad still to 
 hear you converse. 
 
 Bute. Yery well; let me read to you what I 
 have been wTiting to-day. I have begun to 
 write a little book, and you are to be the cen- 
 tral figure of it. I know you are miserable 
 now, but before it is finished my faith is you 
 will be a happy woman among women. 
 
 E. That cannot be; there is no chance for 
 me to be happy; but I want you to read to me 
 what you have written. 
 
 "Whereupon I read the first chapter of this 
 little book, upon which she commented thus: 
 "That is really beautiful, but not for me." 
 
 B. It is for you; doubt not; you shall yet be 
 happy. Tell me, did you sleep well last night? 
 and were you refreshed this morning? 
 
104 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 E. I did not sleep at all. 
 
 B. I am sorry, then, I insisted on your blow- 
 ing out the lamp. I really felt all I said, that 
 it was an evidence of distrust in Christ, and 
 I was hopeful of the effects if you would only 
 give it up; may be I was mistaken. You need 
 sleep very much; it would have been better for 
 you to have partial sleep than none at all. 
 
 E. But, cousin, I must admit the truth — I 
 never blew the light out last night. I thought 
 I would, but when I went to my room my 
 courage failed me. I am ashamed to confess 
 it, but it is true. 
 
 B. Then I w r as deceived, for I did not see it 
 shining as before, and hoped to see you brighter 
 to-day. 
 
 E. I removed the lamp to another place in 
 the room, but it burned all night. 
 
 B. Will you be so kind as to tell me what is 
 going on among the Catholics? 
 
 E. Yesterday afternoon there was an old 
 negro here, and she told mother she heard the 
 priest say he was afraid she would try to per- 
 suade her daughter back into the world. 
 
 B. And what did aunt reply? 
 
 E. She said, "I want my children to be 
 Christians, but not Catholics." 
 
A Catholic Converted. 105 
 
 B. What else? 
 
 E. Sister Lazarus sent me word to-day to 
 come to the convent, she wanted to see me very- 
 much. 
 
 B. Any thing more? 
 
 E. The priest wrote me a note to go to con- 
 fession to-night. I suppose I should have 
 gone had you not asked for a conversation 
 with me. 
 
 B. Well, cousin, I hope you are done with 
 priest and priestly confessions, except to Jesus, 
 our High-priest, who alone can help you. Do 
 not the Catholics regard your mother's visit 
 and mine as being a concerted plan to influ- 
 ence you to return to the Methodist Church ? 
 
 E. They certainly do; such appears to be the 
 case to them. But I know that neither of you 
 knew I was a Catholic. 
 
 B. Such a version of our visit is natural; but 
 if it was pre-arranged, God did it for us. 
 
 E. Cousin, I feel that God sent you here, 
 and I am glad I did not get off to confession 
 to-night. 
 
 B. Cousin Eula, what is the state of your 
 mind to-night ? 
 
 E. I am lost; I am miserable; I cannot shed 
 a tear. There is no hope for me. 
 
 B. There is yet hope for you. That you are 
 
106 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 miserable, I do not doubt; that you are lost, 
 I know. You must be miserable before you 
 can be happy, and be lost before you can be 
 found. If one be lost in a dark wilderness, 
 and unconscious of his lost state, he is in 
 danger of remaining lost. If he hears a voice 
 he will not hearken, or if he sees a light he will 
 not follow it, because he is not conscious of his 
 danger. But when one is lost, and he knows 
 it, he will gladly hearken to a voice or pursue 
 a light; and if none appears, he himself will 
 cry out, and give the alarm. Now you fully 
 realize a consciousness of your lost condition; 
 moreover, you are asking for help. Therefore 
 I say, with confidential hope, there is hope for 
 you. Tou need now to be convinced of God's 
 love, that you may love him in return. 
 
 E. But I have sinned against light. 
 
 B. So you may have refused the true Light, 
 and preferred a false light, but still the true 
 Light is in the meridian, heavens, and that too 
 for you. It is declared of Christ in prophecy, 
 "But unto you that fear my name shall the 
 Sun of righteousness arise with healing in 
 his wings." He declares of himself, "I am 
 the true Light" — a light to shine in darkness, 
 though the darkness may not always compre- 
 hend the light. You feel now you are groping 
 
A Catholic Converted. 107 
 
 in the darkness of despair. Now it is in this 
 darkness that Christ, the true Light, shines. 
 That the darkness itself may become light, you 
 have but to open the eye of faith, which is the 
 true eye of the soul. Follow the Light, and 
 he will lead you out of this dark wilderness of 
 despair. Christ has anticipated your condi- 
 tion, and given us a beautiful parable, so ap- 
 propriate just now. You remember how the 
 son wandered away from his loving old father, 
 just as you have wandered from the simplic- 
 ity of faith in Christ only. And he spent his 
 all, just as you have wasted your early knowl- 
 edge of Christ. And how the son came to a 
 knowledge of his lost condition, just as you 
 now are. And how he resolved to go back to 
 his father's house, just as you now are doing. 
 And, best of all, how the father left the mansion 
 and ran a great way off to meet him, and how 
 he threw his arm around his neck, kissed and 
 caressed him, and said ; " This my son was dead, 
 and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." 
 And that this is in place just now: Remember 
 God the Father sent his Son, and his Son gave 
 up his heavenly mansion and throne, and came 
 to this dark world. For what? To illuminate 
 it, that you and I might see the Morning Star, 
 the glorious Sun of righteousness with his 
 
108 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 beaming light, so joyful to the eye of faith. 
 Now, that this advent was for you, remember 
 he declares his mission is to seek and save 
 that which is lost, to restore sight to the blind, 
 to make the lame to walk, to cleanse the leper, 
 to heal the sick. That you are sick of sin is 
 clear. Christ declares, "I am the Physician," 
 and "God is love." 
 
 E. But, cousin, I have done every thing I 
 know to do, and there is no hope. 
 
 B. I admit what you say about your doing; 
 your doing truly availeth nothing, and yet 
 there is hope. You have been fasting to-day, 
 have you not? 
 
 E. Yes, I have eaten nothing. 
 
 B. You should have eaten something. 
 
 E. I tried to drink a little coffee, but could 
 not do so; there is no room, I am too full of 
 sorrow. 
 
 B. You say you have done all you know to 
 do. Salvation does not come by doing, but in 
 trusting Christ. "It is not of works, lest any 
 man should boast." It is true that good works 
 are the fruits of faith, and are pleasing and 
 acceptable to God in Christ, yet they are not 
 meritorious, and cannot "put away our sins." 
 A person with a well-founded faith will be full 
 of good works for Christ. But that " we are 
 
A Catholic Converted. 109 
 
 justified by faith only is a wholesome doctrine, 
 and very full of comfort." Cousin, you feel 
 you have done every thing you can, but, after 
 all, it has availed nothing. Try one more 
 remedy: Give your heart to God, and you will 
 be converted. 
 
 E. But, cousin, I cannot shed a tear; and 
 here you are crying, full of tears of sympathy, 
 of joy. You are happy, hopeful, find relief in 
 your tears; but I am miserable, and my eyes 
 are dry. 
 
 B. I understand that. You have relied on 
 priestly absolution; you have, in following the 
 mandates of your Church, worshiped idols. 
 In this way you have dishonored God. Your 
 religion of torture — merit in fasting, penance, 
 and confession — has disunited your soul more 
 and more from God, from whence it came in 
 its original purity. Really, your soul is para- 
 lyzed; it has ceased to breathe pure, heavenly 
 atmosphere; its eye of faith is closed; its 
 fountain of godly love has ceased to flow. The 
 doors and windows of your soul have been 
 closed up heretofore, no one to help you unbolt 
 the door. You feel it would be good, and in 
 some degree relief, to shed tears; and so it 
 would. Tears are the evidence of hopefulness 
 or joy; they indicate a softening heart, and 
 
110 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 yours is softening now. [Silent sympathy.] 
 You desire tears. All truly good and great 
 people weep. Jeremiah was the weeping 
 prophet. Christ looked gut over Jerusalem, 
 and doubtless dropped a silent tear as he uttered 
 his lamentation for the doomed city. As he 
 stood at the grave of Lazarus he wept. John, 
 out on the Isle of Patmos, beheld God's book 
 in his open hand, and he wept much because 
 no one was found able to open the book, and 
 unloose the seals thereof. Nor did he cease 
 weeping until the angel informed him that 
 "the Lion of the tribe of Juda " had prevailed 
 to open the book. Noble man! He was weep- 
 ing for God's revealed truth; he was weeping 
 for the world's Redeemer. Now you desire 
 tears that you may know this Redeemer. Such 
 tears are always manly, womanly, Christlike. 
 Indeed, such tears are the waters from heaven; 
 the gentle morning dew that maketh the heart 
 glad for joy. I know your tears are few now. 
 I believe the day is coming when you can shed 
 tears. I hope it is near at hand. It will be 
 when you have been converted to Christ; when 
 you have been born of the Holy Ghost; when 
 you have been washed in the laver of regenera- 
 tion ; when Christ shall breathe upon your soul, 
 and it shall revive and live again. Yes, cousin, 
 
A Catholic Converted. Ill 
 
 in that hour the fountain of the great deep of 
 your soul will be broken up, and then you will 
 look up by faith into Christ's smiling face and 
 shed tears of joy, just as you used to look 
 into the loving face of your parents in the 
 simplicity of childhood. Tou were happy 
 then. When you become a child of God you 
 will be happy again. And now the ques- 
 tion of continued misery or future happi- 
 ness is with you. Will you renounce all for 
 Christ? 
 
 E. I feel I shall have to give up the Catholic 
 Church, or I shall never find Christ, 
 
 B. Yery well; if you are conscious that it is 
 a sin to hold on, surely it cannot be a tempta- 
 tion for a moment. You have scrupulously 
 followed the teachings of the Church of Rome 
 for two or three months, and you have found 
 no comfort. Are you not convinced that prayer 
 to any other person outside the Godhead is 
 offensive to God? that saying mass and con- 
 fession to the priest is mockery? that absolu- 
 tion from the priest is hypocritical mockery? 
 that the whole question is nothing short of 
 idolatry? 
 
 E. Cousin, it is right I should confess the 
 truth; I am convinced. 
 
 B. Then will you not give up the Roman 
 
112 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 Catholic Church, and renounce its false teach- 
 ings, that you may win Christ ? 
 
 E. I do not know what to say: if I were to 
 give up the Catholic Church, there is no Meth- 
 odist Church here for me to join. 
 
 B. That question of your future Church re- 
 lationship is immaterial just now. We hope 
 this city will not continue to be without a 
 Methodist Church; but even if it should, you 
 had better be in no Church than one that mocks 
 God. The Church is not essential to salvation, 
 it is only a means of grace; and when we can 
 do so, it is proper to come within its pales. 
 The essential point is to be born of the Holy 
 Ghost; to come thus into Christ's kingdom, 
 or invisible Church, and then to keep the com- 
 mandments. 
 
 E. Suppose I renounce it all, and give up 
 the Catholic Church, and then not be con- 
 verted? 
 
 B. You now submit a question to be delicate- 
 ly answered; because you have tried so long to 
 find happiness, you are now treading cautiously. 
 Well, I shall not object; but to your question. 
 Your question shows doubtfulness, a want of 
 faith in God. Two duties never conflict; one 
 precedes the other. Your first duty is to obey 
 God's will, so far as that will is revealed to 
 
A Catholic Converted. 113 
 
 you. You say you are convinced you must 
 renounce the Catholic Church, or you cannot 
 receive Christ. Then you must obey the voice 
 of duty thus far, and trust God that he will 
 reward you in keeping his will as revealed. 
 Those who w T alk closest with God are those 
 who ask but one question, " What is God's will? 
 — what wilt thou have me to do?" then they 
 do it. A question of doubt as to God's faith- 
 fulness is not our right. One duty discharged 
 brings up the next, and Christian life has a 
 sweetness in every duty discharged; but duty 
 neglected brings bitterness — leads to darkness. 
 Duties neglected make entanglements of duties, 
 into which sweetness cannot enter. Again, 
 your question is offering condition to Christ. 
 Christ never accepts of any compromise what- 
 ever. He demands the whole heart, your im- 
 plicit faith based upon his word of promise. 
 He has an absolute right to all, and will not 
 accept of any thing less than an unconditional 
 surrender. No person was ever yet converted 
 on his own terms, however small the favor dic- 
 tated. God will not be dictated to. In this 
 matter you are to go farther than you can see. 
 You are to walk by faith, and not by sight. 
 You have his promises on your part to sustain 
 you in the belief that he will bless you in re- 
 8 
 
114 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 nouncing all for Christ. He bids yon if heavy- 
 laden to come, assures you his yoke is easy, 
 his burden light. He declares his ways are 
 pleasant, and his paths peace. He bids you 
 ask, and you shall receive. Only believe; to 
 doubt is sin. If you want the evidence of 
 experience to insure your belief, the blind 
 man declares, " Whereas I was blind, now I 
 see." All he was concerned about was seeing. 
 Then we have the experience of Paul. He 
 belonged to a Church, he was one of the strict- 
 est of the Pharisees. His Church was a proud, 
 boastful Church; they claimed to be the true 
 Church, and excluded the claims of all others. 
 They thought there was merit in making long 
 prayers, and giving alms. And Paul, being a 
 zealous member, thought he ought to put oth- 
 ers to the sword who did not believe his way. 
 But God opened his eyes, and showed him a 
 better way. He followed in it; the scales fell 
 from his eyes; the light of heaven burst in 
 upon his soul; he had joy in Christ. He was 
 no longer the proud Pharisee, but the humble 
 Christian. He was no longer the bigoted Saul, 
 but was ever afterward the humble Paul. He 
 ceased to preach Saul and the Church, and 
 began to preach Christ and the gospel. Yes, 
 it was Paul, out of a genuine Christian experi- 
 
A Catholic Converted. 115 
 
 ence and a correct faith, declaring " Christ is 
 all, and in all." It is Paul, out of his rich ex- 
 perience, that has given us that heavenly as- 
 surance contained in the eighth chapter of Ro- 
 mans. It is this same Spirit of Christ, this 
 Spirit of adoption into God's family, you need 
 to free you from the spirit of bondage and 
 fear. But you can never have it except Christ 
 give it you. Yet I assure you he is ever will- 
 ing. But you must ground your arms of re- 
 bellion, and make a complete surrender to him. 
 He will not accept of any terms on your part 
 whatever. 
 
 E. Cousin Buie, God sent you to me. 
 
 B. Then, if you believe that, take my advice 
 this one time. As you are convinced, and feel 
 you must give up the Catholic Church, with all 
 its pernicious teachings, before you can be con- 
 verted to God, do so at once. 
 
 E. I will decide that question to-night, and 
 let you know in the morning. 
 
 B. Cousin, now is the day of salvation. De- 
 lay is dangerous. 
 
 E. I suppose now is the time. 
 
 B. So the Scriptures teach 
 
 E. But, cousin, there are mountains of diffi- 
 culties in the way. 
 
 B. What can they be? 
 
116 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 E. To do so would be to break a solemn 
 vow. 
 
 B. That is nothing; I should not hesitate a 
 moment. 
 
 E. You do not say so,' cousin ? 
 
 B. I most assuredly do. What is a vow to 
 believe whatever the Church of Home may see 
 proper to teach you? A vow to make prayers 
 to the saints; to confess to the priest; and 
 never to break off the shackles of Eoman slav- 
 ery ! a vow binding conscience and freedom of 
 soul! a vow contrary to God's will! Break it I 
 would, and feel I was doing God's will! 
 
 E. But I made that vow to God, and not to 
 man. I was kneeling, my hand on the Bible, 
 
 B. Cousin Eula, do you believe it to be God's 
 will to obey and follow the teachings that vow 
 binds upon you ? 
 
 E. I do not. 
 
 B. Do you believe that God accepted of, and 
 was pleased with, that vow of yours ? 
 
 E. I do not. 
 
 B. That ought to settle the question. If 
 God did not accept of it, and was not pleased 
 with it, then he will be pleased with you to 
 break it; and not to break it is sin. To con- 
 tinue to do wrong does not make the first wrong 
 right. Your vow, however honest you were in 
 
A Catholic Converted. 117 
 
 making it, and to whomsoever yon made it, if 
 contrary to God's will, mnst be broken before 
 you set yourself right with God on that point. 
 
 E. Well, cousin, I will fully decide to-night 
 whether I will give up the Catholic Church or 
 not. 
 
 B. Very well, cousin. I am sad, however, to 
 see you so near the kingdom of God, and yet 
 you decline to enter in. Be sure you decide 
 it aright, and remember there is but one true 
 standard of right, God's will. Let us assemble 
 for family prayers. 
 
 That night earnest prayer was offered for 
 the conversion of Cousin Eula. God seemed 
 near by to hear every petition, or faith trans- 
 ported us to God. Heaven seemed to stoop to 
 kiss earth, and give the seal of adoption. 
 
118 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Decision and renunciation — Last agony — "But I swore" — 
 Imprecations — Death is not a synonym for this — Eula is 
 converted. 
 
 The morning of April 2, 1878, was bright and 
 sunny. Vegetables and flowers abounded in 
 the far-away Southland. The thoughts of the 
 writer had traveled far up the picturesque 
 Saint John's Biver, and imagination had paint- 
 ed pictures of beauty on the banks of the river 
 of lakes. But, what was to be more gratify- 
 ing, our pleasure of travel was also in the line 
 of duty toward Him who said, "Follow me." 
 But God's thoughts are not as our thoughts, 
 nor are his ways like our ways. There is a 
 general providence over all mankind. The 
 sun, with its light and heat; the rain, with its 
 softening touch, falls alike on the just and the 
 unjust. Yet there is a special providence over 
 all those who pray believing. " Take not thy 
 Holy Spirit from me." Choose for me all my 
 changes. " Give us this day our daily bread. 
 . . . And lead us not into temptation, but de- 
 liver us from evil; for thine is the kingdom, 
 and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen." 
 
A Catholic Converted. 119 
 
 It was this special providence to which allusion 
 has been made before — in my being detained 
 on my course for want of means. The night 
 before I had gone for mail, and received none. 
 As I had made efforts to receive funds by mail, 
 and failed, I could now say to my sorrowing 
 cousin, Another question is settled; I will not 
 go to the District Conference. I shall ever 
 look upon the disappointment as a providence 
 indicating that it was my duty to remain longer 
 in Saint Augustine. That morning early I had 
 an interview with Mr. Uzenia. He said his 
 wife spoke to him the night before about 
 leaving the Catholic Church; but as she had 
 joined, he preferred her to remain faithful. He 
 had been away from home most of the time of 
 late on business ; he did not know the state of his 
 wife's mind, nor did he know what Catholicism 
 was. When I informed him of the condition 
 of her mind and heart, he assured me that if 
 her heart was not in the Catholic Church she 
 was at perfect liberty to leave it, and he would 
 let her know the same on his return in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Eula was a good and true wife, and usually 
 a very prudent and consistent woman. I did 
 not know her reason for postponing her decis- 
 ion the night before, but it was mainly to have 
 
120 Ootjsin Eula; or, 
 
 the approval of her husband to the change her 
 heart was inditing. If he had only known her 
 heart and mind on that subject as I knew it, 
 his reply would have been different. 
 
 Buie. Cousin Eula, may 'I have the pleasure 
 of a conversation with you this morning? 
 
 Eula. Cousin Buie, I am anxious to converse 
 with you without delay. 
 
 B. Cousin, you are not so near Christ this 
 morning as you were last night, and yet there 
 is hope. 
 
 E, It is true I am not so near to Christ. 
 
 B. How did you pass the night? 
 
 E. Wretchedly. 
 
 jR. Well, you were to decide the question 
 of questions, the renouncing of the Roman 
 Catholic Church. And so you did decide, but 
 it was not according to God's will; therefore 
 your decision would not stand. 
 
 E. Cousin, you seem to know every thing. 
 I did decide, and my decision would not stand. 
 During the night I decided to hold on to the 
 Catholic Church, but I was more miserable 
 afterward than ever. Then this morning, when 
 I heard you come into the parlor, I came to 
 the door, and put my hand upon the door-knob. 
 O that I had only come in then and told you 
 all! I should now have been perfectly happy. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 121 
 
 B. It is not too late. I know why you de- 
 cided not to quit the Catholic Church. Last 
 night, after prayers and retiring, you consulted 
 your husband. He, not knowing the state of 
 your mind and heart, told you he would prefer 
 you to remain a faithful member of the Church 
 you had joined. This morning I had a con- 
 versation with him, in which I told him all. 
 He now says do as you wish, and he will tell 
 you so this afternoon when he returns from 
 business. His heart is in sympathy with you. 
 He shed tears freely. He says he ought to be 
 a better man, and intends to be. 
 
 E. I am so thankful. Tou cannot tell how 
 much I dreaded the displeasure of my hus- 
 band. I feel so much relieved. 
 
 B. I have also had a conversation with your 
 brother. He wants to see you free and happy, 
 and intends himself to lead a new life, follow- 
 ing the commandments of God. 
 
 E. Cousin, it is all good news to me. While 
 I have been in great distress on account of my 
 own sins, I have also prayed for my brother. 
 Now one point is decided : I renounce the Cath- 
 olic Church with its pernicious teachings; that 
 much is settled. 
 
 Dear reader, you rejoice with Eula that her 
 bands are broken. But not yet; I am to record 
 
122 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 the last} agony. Yet I cannot. I can record 
 words, but sorrow, agony of spirit, quivering 
 of lips, and fluttering of soul, I cannot record. 
 Heaven only will contain the record. 
 
 B. Cousin, what now hinclers you from re- 
 ceiving Christ, and being happy? 
 
 E. There is no chance. 
 
 B. Why not? What have you done that 
 Christ's blood cannot wipe out? 
 
 E. I was honest in joining the Catholic 
 Church; but I ought to have known better. I 
 am inexcusable. 
 
 B. Admit what you say. It is only a neg- 
 lected duty in not knowing what you should 
 have known. Christ can cleanse you from all 
 sin, though it be willful sin. [Deep silence 
 and emotion.] Do you know what keeps you 
 from Christ? 
 
 E. I do. 
 
 B. Will you tell me, or give up the hinder- 
 ing cause? [Silence and agitation.] 
 
 E. Cousin, you know to lay a part of my 
 idols on the altar, and not all, avails me noth- 
 ing. 
 
 B. True. But what can yet be behind? 
 
 E. Much. 
 
 B. Will you tell me? 
 
 E. I cannot. 
 
A Catholic Conveeted. 123 
 
 B. Why not? 
 
 E. It is impossible. 
 
 B. Whatever that much may be, what is 
 God's will in the matter? 
 
 E. To do so. 
 
 B. To do what? 
 
 E. To tell all. 
 
 B. Are you sure of God's will? 
 
 E. I am. 
 
 B. Then please God, and not man. [Silence.] 
 
 E. I know my duty, but do it not. 
 
 B. Is it essential to salvation? 
 
 E. It is. I feel the moment I reveal all, I 
 shall receive Christ. 
 
 B. Then follow the impressions of the Spirit: 
 to God you stand or fall. [Silence and agita- 
 tion.] 
 
 E. But I swore. [Silence and quivering of 
 lips.] 
 
 B. Is it possible you took an oath in joining 
 the Catholic Church ? [A pause and agitation.] 
 
 E. There is no joining the Catholic Church 
 without an oath. 
 
 B. Well, Cousin Eula, if it was a duty to 
 God, I would as soon break the oath as a vow. 
 
 E. Cousin, would you break an oath ? 
 
 B. If I knew it was God's will I v/ould. Are 
 you sure of God's will? 
 
124 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 E. I am. I know I ought to reveal all. 
 
 B. Yery well. God's will is the only true 
 standard of right and wrong. If it is right in 
 God's sight to break your oath, it cannot be 
 sin. 
 
 E. But, cousin, I did not swear to man, but 
 to God. 
 
 B. Then, cousin, let me ask, do you think 
 that oath was well-pleasing and acceptable to 
 God? 
 
 E. I do not. 
 
 B. If it was not well-pleasing and acceptable 
 to God, was it not offensive to him ? 
 
 E. It certainly was. 
 
 B. Cousin, your oath not having been ac- 
 ceptable to God, but offensive toward him, be- 
 sides your clear impression of duty to break 
 it or to tell all which it binds, it is also clear to 
 my mind that your sin is in taking and keeping 
 the oath, and not in breaking it. An oath, to 
 be binding, must be administered according to 
 authority. The oath in question is illegal in 
 every respect. It is unauthorized by civil law ; 
 therein breaking it, you are not violating any 
 civil law, or accountable to any civil tribunal. 
 It is illegal in reference to God's law. His 
 word is the only rule, and sufficient rule, both 
 of our faith and practice. Nowhere in his 
 
A Catholic Converted. 125 
 
 word has he authorized those who keep the 
 door of the Church to receive any one into his 
 Church on oath. Therefore such an oath as 
 the one in question is unauthorized by God. 
 And administrators of such oaths are anti- 
 christ — setting aside Christ's teachings, and 
 setting up their own. In calling his disciples, 
 he required them to leave their secularity, and 
 follow him. Nowhere do we read of Christ 
 taking them in by oath, or authorizing any one 
 else to do so. Take Peter, for instance. After 
 he had thrice denied Christ, Christ only thrice 
 required him to declare his love. The denial 
 was the sin; it was a denial by oath. The re- 
 ceiving back to Christ was a vow, or public pro- 
 fession of what Christ already knew. " Thou 
 knowest that I love thee." Evidently Christ 
 has intended his Church to be cemented to- 
 gether by love, and not held together by bind- 
 ing oaths. I do not know the nature of the 
 oath you have taken, but I am sure, from 
 what has come to light, that it enslaves the 
 rnind and soul — the worst kind of slavery the 
 world has ever known. Mental and religous 
 freedom are the highest types of freedom 
 ^warded to the hiiman family. Such freedom 
 God has given to you and me, and we can no 
 more part with them without displeasing God 
 
12G Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 than Judas did to sell Christ for thirty pieces 
 of silver. Indeed, the jjurchase of religious 
 freedom— securing to you and me the right to 
 approach God in person, repent, believe, and 
 receive forgiveness of sins— cost Jesus, our 
 Saviour, the shedding of his blood. Any sys- 
 tem that sets aside the purchase of Christ's 
 blood puts Christ to an open shame. True re- 
 pentance will lead you to a renunciation of all 
 these things, even the oath that makes you a 
 slave — the worst of slaves — and Christ a mere 
 man, without power or saving merit. 
 
 E. If I break the oath, then? [A pause.] 
 
 B. Then what? [A pause.] 
 
 E. O my soul! [A pause.] 
 
 B. You say the moment you break the oath, 
 or rather tell all, you will be converted, for- 
 given, blessed, peace following. If God re- 
 quires of you a renunciation of this false oath 
 that "he may be pleased with you, whom have 
 you to fear? 
 
 E. But O that which followed! O me! [Ag- 
 ony.] 
 
 B. Cousin, is it possible that imprecations 
 followed the oath you took ? [Silence, quiver- 
 ing of her lips, paleness.] 
 
 E. Cousin, you seem to know all that I know. 
 [Pause.] What you fear is too true. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 127 
 
 B..1 suppose yon likely invited the curses 
 of God upon yon, and the punishment of the 
 Catholic Church, in case you should do this 
 thing. 
 
 E. Too true. O! O! This is awful! awful! 
 [Wildness.] 
 
 Her he-ad is now reclining upon the back of 
 the chair, with the paleness of death. I was 
 engaged in secret communion with God, and 
 watching the evil spirit tearing her very heart- 
 strings as he takes his final leave. Not yet. 
 Satan never leaves a remedy untried to hold on 
 to his servants. I have witnessed the last ag- 
 ony of many as God has gathered them as 
 brands from the eternal burning, but my eyes 
 never beheld the like before. Now she is re- 
 covering, but all is not over yet. 
 
 B. Tell me, how are you feeling? 
 
 E. Awful. Those imprecations! O the sin 
 of that hour! 
 
 B. As to those imprecations, thanks be to 
 God, America is a land of religious freedom. 
 The civil law guarantees to you the right of 
 religious thought, and the privilege of worship- 
 ing God according to your own conscience, and 
 insures your protection in the same. They 
 dare not administer those imprecations unless 
 they do it in secret. If you should lose your 
 
128 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 life in the discharge of duty to Christ, the 
 promise would be yours, "Whosoever loseth 
 his life for my sake shall find it." It would 
 be noble to die thus. Not only that, but you 
 would die both a martyr and patriot — a 
 patriot, because this oath is directly in vio- 
 lation of the Constitution of the United States, 
 which secures to us mental and religious free- 
 dom — a martyr for the truth. Thus you 
 would die for thousands that might be kept 
 through you from being ensnared, enslaved 
 as you have been. As to imprecating God's 
 curses, it is like any other sinner swearing, and 
 asking God to damn him under certain circum- 
 stances. Such a petition God will answer by 
 and by, unless the person repent, believe, and 
 is converted. Tou should repent that you 
 ever invoked such a wicked thing of God. 
 
 E. But after all this, do you think I can be 
 happy? 
 
 B. Certainly you can. Happiness is not to 
 be sought after; it follows certain other things 
 as a consequence. Duty discharged brings 
 happiness. For instance, if you repent, be- 
 lieve, and are converted, being thus united to 
 Christ, happiness ensues, and nothing can hin- 
 der. That you have sinned, I do not deny, and 
 so you feel; but if Christ only forgives you, 
 
A Catholic Converted. 129 
 
 and cleanses you from all sin, then yon shall 
 be free indeed. Christ insures you in his word 
 of promise, and by the wooings of the Holy 
 Spirit, that he is ever willing to forgive and 
 bless. The question is, Are you willing? 
 
 E. I want to be. 
 
 B. What hinders you now from embracing 
 Christ? 
 
 E. Only that one thing — making the revela- 
 tion. 
 
 B. Are you still clear as to your duty? 
 
 E. I am, and ever have been. 
 
 B. Then will you not make the revelation? 
 [Long silence.] 
 
 E. I am resolved. 
 
 B. Then fear God only, and do your duty. 
 
 E. Cousin Buie, give me one hour to myself, 
 and I will return and tell you all. 
 
 B. Cousin Eula, I have no authority to ex- 
 act of you to tell me what that secret oath in- 
 cludes, and I would not have asked, but you have 
 persisted in regarding it as your duty to God; 
 and now that you are resolved to do that duty, 
 I must say delay is dangerous. I fear your 
 purpose to delay one hour is a temptation. 
 Last night, when we finished conversation, you 
 were longing after Christ. We were conscious 
 you were near the kingdom of God. You pre- 
 9 
 
130 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 ferred to settle those questions alone. You did 
 settle them, as you thought, and settled them 
 again and again, and yet you are miserable 
 still. One hour will bring us to the dining- 
 hour. I must say it is hazardous to delay. 
 [A pause.] 
 
 E. Cousin, do you know any thing about 
 Masonry? 
 
 B. I do. 
 
 E. If you were to dissolve your relationship 
 with the Masons, or be expelled — which I do 
 not suppose will ever be — you would not tell 
 their secrets, would you? 
 
 B. I would not. 
 
 E. They tell me this is just like Masonry. 
 
 B. Cousin, while Masonry is the handmaid 
 of religion, it is not religion, nor does it pro- 
 pose to be. It is a moral institution of human 
 origin, friendly to religion — neither abets nor 
 antagonizes any of the Churches. Nor has any 
 Church a right to take advantage of this order 
 to c&rry out their purposes. No true Mason 
 will, at least. I see the point you bring out. 
 Masonry is an institution that has withstood 
 ages. In itself it is doing much good. Im- 
 itations of this institution, or its advantages 
 applied to any other institution, do harm. Now 
 the impression made on my mind is that you 
 
A Catholic Converted. 131 
 
 are instructed by the priest, or others, to 
 regard at all hazards the secrets of the 
 Eoman Catholic Church. Yes, they do not in- 
 tend their gain shall be lost, or this iron chain 
 broken. It is not the soothsayers they are 
 concerned about, but the gain the soothsayers 
 bring. The institutions are very different. 
 The one is human, the other is claimed to be 
 divine. Masonry being an ancient human in- 
 stitution, I see the Eoman Catholic Church, 
 though claiming to be divine, seeks to build 
 upon the human. Christ intends his Church 
 to be cemented together by love, and love only. 
 The point they make out of Masonry is to seek 
 thereby to keep their secrets. Yet, perhaps, 
 the Eoman Catholic Church is less friend- 
 ly toward Masonry than any other Church. 
 But as to your oath, and its similarity with 
 our obligations as a Mason. I assure you, 
 cousin, there is nothing in my obligation that 
 interferes with my duty to myself, my God, or 
 my family. I have no personal right to bring 
 any thing between God and myself by obliga- 
 tion, vow, oath, or otherwise. And not only 
 so, but should I, I not only would have all right 
 civilly and divinely to break such an obliga- 
 tion, but it would be my duty to do the same. 
 Now your oath does interfere with your duty 
 
132 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 to God, for you are conscious you cannot 
 receive forgiveness of sins and peace with 
 God until you tell all. What I most desire 
 above all things now is the salvation of your 
 soul. Tell me, how much do you prize your 
 soul? 
 
 E. Above every thing. 
 
 B. Then whatever is in the way of your ob- 
 taining salvation give it up, no matter if it be a 
 right-eye or a right-arm. 
 
 E. It seems as if two voices were speaking 
 to my spirit. One I believe to be the voice of 
 God, calling me to duty; the other, the voice 
 of temptation, saying, Tou better not. O how 
 awful are the struggles of this hour! It is 
 really awful! [Agony of soul.] 
 
 B. You have my heart -felt sympathy. I 
 know Satan will not give you up willingly. 
 Were one prepared, perhaps, it would be easier 
 to die. 
 
 E. Death is not a synonym. It has no mean- 
 ing compared to this hour. What shall I do? 
 O that I had seen you three months sooner! 
 
 B. It is not too late. Though I can do but 
 little, yet I feel that Christ is very near now, 
 and that God is love. Fear and trust God only, 
 and all will be well. 
 
 E. Impossible! I am ruined! 
 
A Catholic Converted. 133 
 
 B. Fear not. Darkness precedes the light, 
 sorrow goes before joy, and death to sin before 
 a life to Christ. 
 
 E. It is inconceivable. No tongue can tell 
 the awful agonies within my heart. 
 
 B. And no tongue can tell the issues of this 
 hour. One thing is sure, the salvation of your 
 soul depends upon your obedience to the im- 
 pressions of the Holy Spirit. It is true you 
 and I are weak vessels in this great world, but 
 God sometimes chooses the weak things of this 
 world to confound the mighty. It may be at 
 this moment there is not another such conflict 
 going on in this world as this one. Perhaps 
 there may be just now manifest in you more of 
 the grace of God than in any other person. The 
 trial is great, I know; but Christ said to Paul, 
 "My grace is sufficient for thee." His grace 
 is sufficient for every trial that overtakes us in 
 the path of duty. On the other hand, Satan 
 may be here with his marshaled host as he is 
 nowhere else. Satan does not intend freedom 
 of thought, and freedom of the soul toward 
 God, but intends the world shall bow to idols 
 as long as he can enslave it so to do. But 
 Christ intends we shall be free, and worship 
 him in spirit and in truth, with the simplicity 
 of a child. And now, if God has chosen you 
 
134 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 as the honored instrument in bringing light 
 out of darkness, that others may not fall into 
 the same dark pit, then you can but respond, 
 " Here, Lord, I am." Now, cousin, shall our 
 labor and sorrow be in vain ? For several days 
 neither of us has found refreshment in eating 
 or sleeping. Days of sorrow have past until I 
 sometimes wonder what shall be the end of 
 these things. Now that Christ has drawn us 
 by his Spirit unto himself, the fountain of life, 
 will you not drink of the water of life and live, 
 that we may have joy with you? 
 
 E. Cousin, I again must say God sent you 
 to me. 
 
 B. Then, as you believe God sent me — and 
 so do I — and you have received me, will you 
 not receive Him that sent me ? 
 
 E. I will. I am resolved. It shall be set- 
 tled now. Awhile ago I asked you for one 
 hour; but now I only ask five minutes, and I 
 will return and tell you all. 
 
 B. Be sure you are not tempted. 
 
 E. May be I shall be tempted. 
 
 For about the space of five minutes I sat 
 alone in the parlor, my hand over my face, 
 forgetful of every thing in this world save the 
 aching, agonizing, breaking heart of the one 
 that had just gone from the vacant chair be- 
 
A Catholic Convekted. 135 
 
 fore me. There was an unbroken silent com- 
 munion with God. My heart had but one 
 desire — the salvation of my cousin. But now 
 I may think, as I naturally would have thought 
 then had I not been absorbed with the one 
 thought above expressed, Where has she gone ? 
 She did not say what she wanted with the five 
 minutes. Can it be she was led away by the 
 evil spirit to be tempted? or has she gone 
 away for secret communion with God? Sure- 
 ly she cannot be gone to the priest. She can- 
 not be meditating as to breaking her oath, and 
 making the revelation. She has said that 
 much was settled. Where can she be? and 
 how employed? 
 
 My dear reader, I must tell you, she is 
 spending the five minutes asked for with the 
 Priest. But not the priest of the Church of 
 Rome. It is our High-priest, Christ Jesus, 
 an oblation once offered for our sins; not dead 
 and handled with men's hands, but our risen 
 Lord, ever living to make intercession for 
 us. They are together. He is blessing her 
 now in her private room on her knees. His 
 attention was attracted to that spot not by 
 burning tapers, but by silent prayer and child- 
 like, simple faith. There is offered up to him 
 a sacrifice, consisting of a broken heart and 
 
136 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 contrite spirit. He is accepting the offering, 
 removing the guilt of sin, and gathering up 
 the f ragmental parts ; restoring instead a pure, 
 perfect heart — a copy, Lord, of thine. She 
 went away apparently alone, yet she was not 
 alone. A personified evil spirit rankled in her 
 heart. But now the door unbolts, and she 
 conies again, apparently alone, and yet she is 
 not alone. She has now truly become the 
 temple of the Hoty Ghost. She abides in 
 Christ, and Christ in God. Like Enoch, she 
 is humbly walking with God. Her face is hid 
 with a handkerchief, and she weeps, but it is 
 not the voice of lamentation. Her weeping is 
 only joy overflowing. I said she was not alone, 
 for Jesus returned with her, though I did not 
 knoAv for certain then. She fell upon her 
 knees, her head bowed upon her chair. I said, 
 "Let me raise you up, cousin, and seat you 
 upon your chair." Supposing she was pass- 
 ing through the dread ordeal from nature to 
 grace, from darkness to light, and from death 
 to life, I exhorted her to trust the Lord, and 
 be saved, for this was my most anxious thought. 
 I was mistaken. All was then well. She now 
 sits in her chair, her handkerchief withdrawn. 
 She is pale and exhausted, but a heavenly 
 smile plays over her face. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 137 
 
 B. Cousin, tell me, how do yon feel now? 
 
 E. I am perfectly happy. 
 
 B. Do yon love God? and do yon realize he 
 loves yon ? 
 
 E. I feel his love flowing through and 
 through my soul. I never felt any thing like 
 it before. 
 
 B. You have peace now? 
 
 E. Perfect peace. 
 
 Dear reader, we have now reached the point 
 -in our story that takes us up with Moses from 
 the smoke of the camp to Pisgah's heights, 
 where we look over into the promised Canaan, 
 and behold the beauties of the goodly land. But 
 we must remember that Moses, from Nebo's 
 view of the fair land, descended into the cold- 
 ness of death — but not to be forgotten, for 
 God honored him with a burial "in the land 
 of Moab, over against Bethpeor." Nor will 
 we forget to follow with anxious heart the 
 after-joys of Lady Eula. 
 
 We may follow, with delight, our Lord, 
 Peter, James, and John, up into the high 
 mountain apart. We may be awe-stricken 
 with the transfiguration of the Lord as we be- 
 hold the beauty of his glorious countenance 
 and his divinity shining through every fiber 
 of his garments until no fuller on earth could 
 
138 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 whiten them. All this will confirm our faith, 
 as it did the favored disciples ; but we must 
 still follow them to the valley below, and Peter 
 to his denial. The trial of our faith is more 
 precious than the trial of gold. 
 
 B. Cousin, tell me, how did you receive this 
 great blessing? 
 
 E. I received it upon my knees. 
 
 B. In answer to what petition or covenant ? 
 
 E. I promised God, upon my knees, if he 
 would convert me, I would reveal all. 
 
 B. Will you now fulfill your vow? [Silence, 
 effort, failure. Cries of distress, and receding 
 of the Spirit.] What ails you now? 
 
 E. My joy is gone. I am again miserable. 
 Help me. 
 
 B. I am weak, but God is strong. He can 
 help you trust him. I will pray while you 
 resolve in your heart to keep the vow, and he 
 will return his blessing. [Silence, recovering, 
 smiling.] How is it now? 
 
 E. Perfectly happy. 
 
 B. Have you received this blessing a second 
 time in answer to the same purpose of heart 
 to tell all? 
 
 E. It came that way. 
 
 B. Will you now redeem your vow? [Ef- 
 fort, failure.] 
 
A Catholic Converted. 139 
 
 E. O it is impossible! How awful is this 
 hour! [The Spirit again recedes; the counte- 
 nance depicts the misery within. Where shall 
 the dreadful issues of this hour end?] 
 
 B. Cousin, the Spirit of God is easily en- 
 treated; in like manner he is easily grieved. 
 After an experience of eighteen years of 
 Christian life I assure you there is no progress 
 or happiness except in obedience to the Spirit. 
 The Holy Spirit is the infallible guide that 
 will lead us in the path of duty and safety, if 
 we will only follow his teachings. Do you 
 still know God's will in this matter? 
 
 E. I do not doubt it. I never have. 
 
 B. God has given you a taste of his love, and 
 the joy he imparts. He gave you this bless- 
 ing on condition. You obeyed the impressions 
 of the Spirit in covenanting with God. Tou 
 also believed the promises of God. Now the 
 conditions upon which God blessed you are the 
 conditions upon which you are to retain the 
 blessing. "We are justified by faith." "By 
 faith we stand." Will you not again resolve 
 in the integrity of your heart to perform your 
 vow? [Silence.] 
 
 She does silently resolve; and now you see 
 the effects of the Spirit coming. The Spirit 
 burns bright and yet brighter. The face is 
 
140 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 lighted up with a heavenly glow. The sparks 
 of love to God and mankind play upon the 
 countenance like flashes of electricity. 
 
 B. Now, cousin, it is again apparent that all 
 is well. [She smiles.] Do not be tempted. 
 Think for awhile of Christ; how he has loved 
 you, and borne with you; and of God the 
 Father, "who is love." That sweet feast of 
 love that you now enjoy is just what the saints 
 and angels of heaven continually enjoy. I 
 am sure he is willing for this fountain of life, 
 this well of joy, to abide in you. He died to 
 give you happiness in this life; he arose from 
 the grave, and ascended to glory, to prepare a 
 place for you in the life to come. Think of 
 these things, and trust Christ. But now, as 
 you enjoy and prize this feast of love you 
 have possessed for a little while, how much 
 greater the joy in possessing this priceless 
 pearl forever! Do not give way to tempta- 
 tion. Look to Christ for strength in your 
 weakness. Remember he says, " My grace is 
 sufficient for thee." Hold on to the purpose 
 of your heart. You have now for several 
 minutes retained the blessing; happiness, joy, 
 peace, are yours. If you will have it to abide 
 with you, only one duty is before you just 
 now. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 141 
 
 How her lips do quiver! What efforts she 
 makes! It seems she cannot speak; she fails. 
 The hectic flush is on her cheek now. 
 
 E. May be it is not right, for when I attempt 
 to speak my lips will not open. 
 
 B. What is your condition now? 
 
 E. I am wretched. 
 
 B. Well, cousin, as to my mind, I am satis- 
 fied as to your duty. Tou have had a contin- 
 ued, never-changing impression that it is your 
 duty to tell all. Such oaths and imprecations 
 are unauthorized by God's law, and are a vio- 
 lation of the same. Next, God has given a 
 confirmation of your impression by repeatedly 
 blessing you several times — as often as you 
 make and purpose to comply with your vow to 
 tell all. I do not wish to persuade you, but 
 prefer you to remain solely under the influence 
 of the Spirit. Yet I must insist on you so 
 acting and obeying your impression of duty as 
 to retain the blessing of peace and joy. If, 
 after receiving these tastes of love, you disobey 
 God, your sorrow will be the greater, having 
 sinned against the light of peace and joy real- 
 ized. Suppose you make the following vow to 
 God, and we will pray, and I feel he will accept 
 it. In the integrity of your heart vow, " Lord, 
 bless me, and suffer me to retain the blessing; 
 
142 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 and when I have had time and composure for 
 meditation, I will do what I conceive to be my 
 duty in reference to the revelation of these se- 
 crets." Will you so vow 2 [A pause.] 
 
 E. I will. 
 
 B. Then in our hearts we will pray. [Silent 
 prayer.] God is blessing you now. You are 
 looking happy again. The heavenly smile is 
 again resting on your face. What are your 
 feelings ? 
 
 E. I feel better. 
 
 B. Is not God good to bear with you so ? 
 
 E. He is. He blesses me more and more. 
 [She smiles.] My soul is filled with joy and 
 filled with love. And you are good too, cousin. 
 I do not see why your patience has not been 
 exhausted long ago. 
 
 B. Not at all. Jesus left his throne in glory, 
 and came to earth, spent thirty-three years of 
 suffering for me, and at last died for me ; and 
 then should I weary with watching a few hours, 
 or even days ? It is my meat and drink to do 
 my Master's will. True, we have sorrowed 
 much, but the joy that cometh in the morning 
 maketh the heart glad to overflowing. Many 
 a time have I knelt long, with even a stranger, 
 seeking the God I love, until I caught the first 
 beams of the Morning Star arising with heal- 
 
A Catholic Converted. 143 
 
 ing in his wings. Yes, I love to hear them call 
 out, " Watchman, what of the night? " And I 
 love as w r ell to reply, " The morning cometh. 
 See that glory-beaming star." 
 
 E. But the sun shines now. 
 
 B. So it does to you, but the dazzling light 
 of the morning star first portended the day 
 breaking, and next came the sunshine. And it 
 may be with you now that the sun is in its me- 
 ridian glory to your soul. 
 
 E. So it is. 
 
 B. Now, to realize the sunlight of God's glo- 
 rious countenance lifted upon you, is full con- 
 firmation. He accepts the offering of your 
 broken heart and contrite spirit. Now that 
 we have sorrowed, watched, and prayed for the 
 past three and a-half hours, and have been 
 permitted to enjoy this sweet communion with 
 Christ and with each other for the last half- 
 hour, perhaps it will be well for you to bear the 
 sweet testimony to your sorrowing mother. 
 
 E. So I will, gladly; but I want to thank 
 you for your toils for me. And I thank God 
 he ever sent you. Before I go I must tell you 
 the priest is coming this afternoon to see me. 
 I do not w r ant to see him. What shall I do? 
 
 B. Then you need not see him. I will see 
 him for you. I will tell him you do not desire 
 
144 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 to see him any more; that Jesus, the High- 
 priest, has converted your soul; that he has 
 made you free indeed, and free you shall be. 
 Allow me to suggest that you write out your 
 renunciation of the Roman Catholic Church, 
 its doctrines and practices. I will hand it to 
 him for you. 
 
 E. Very well. I want to see my mother 
 now. Dear mother, I want to tell you I am 
 very happy now. Jesus forgave my sins a 
 little while ago, while on my knees renouncing 
 all for Christ. Be cheerful. I have renounced 
 the Catholic Church. 
 
 'Wwew 
 
A Catholic Converted. 145 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 First temptation to go to the priest — Temptation vanished 
 — Planning for the future — Second temptation — She dis- 
 suades the preacher from writing this book — Temptation 
 ended, and she prays for God's blessing on this work. 
 
 Soon after we were separated, the hour for 
 dinner arrived. We were all refreshed with a 
 good dinner except Cousin Eula, who was now 
 too full of joy to eat. She had food to eat 
 of which the world knows not, and tastes not. 
 This was the most pleasant and joyful meal 
 we had taken together. Cousin took her place 
 at the head of the table, and was sunshine to 
 us all — more natural than I had ever seen her 
 ■ — she was all smiles. 
 
 There was upon my mind prominent the 
 one thought — the coming of the priest. Fidel- 
 ity to Christ and my cousin, so recently born 
 into his kingdom, demanded of me to meet the 
 priest firmly, though kindly — all of which I was 
 fully determined to do. Soon after dinner my 
 cousin informed me she had sent a message to 
 the priest not to come — she could not receive 
 him. 
 
 I would now have wandered alone through 
 10 
 
146 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 the city, or upon the beach, or elsewhere, but I 
 feared some advantage might be taken of my 
 absence by that wily serpent, Satan; so I re- 
 mained at the cottage, and it was well. Some 
 two hours afterward I felt a strange uneasiness, 
 I knew not why. I sent my wife to my cousin 
 to know if I could see her. A courteous affirm- 
 ative answer was returned. I went into the 
 room where my cousin was, when the following 
 conversation ensued : 
 
 Eula. You need not say a word — I am going. 
 
 Bute. Going? Going where? 
 
 E. Going to the priest. 
 
 B. And for what are you going to the priest? 
 
 E. You need not ask me not. I am going to 
 get ready right away, and go to the priest. 
 
 B. And pray tell me what have you to do 
 with the priest now, except Jesus, the High- 
 priest, the only real Priest, and beside whom 
 there is no other? 
 
 E. I must see the priest, and I am going. 
 
 B. You must not see the priest, and you are 
 not going. 
 
 E. But I must go. 
 
 B. Then I must go with you. 
 
 E. No; I must go alone. He would not ad- 
 mit you. 
 
 JS. Then he will not admit you. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 147 
 
 E. But, cousin, it is useless to talk. I must 
 
 B. You are right, cousin, it is useless to talk; 
 but you must not go. If you go contrary to 
 my wishes, you incur my displeasure, and, as 
 I believe, the displeasure of God. 
 
 E. I hope I shall not do any thing to displease 
 you, but you do not understand the situation. 
 
 B. Then I must understand it before I can 
 be otherwise than displeased if you go. 
 
 E. But I am not at liberty to let you know 
 the situation. 
 
 B. Indeed you are, if you will. You are no 
 longer a secret slave, but a free woman — made 
 free by the blood of the Lamb. You are no 
 longer under Roman tyranny, bearing the griev- 
 ous yoke of priestly confession, and making 
 mock prayers. You are a subject of Christ's 
 kingdom. The price of your freedom is his 
 blood. You have taken his yoke upon you. 
 Said he, " My yoke is easy, and my burden is 
 light." I cannot see how you, or any one else 
 — except ignorantly — can acknowledge any one 
 to be priest, save Christ, without dishonoring 
 Christ, and committing sin. Now I must know 
 the cause of your purpose to thus dishonor 
 Christ. You have told me frequently you be- 
 lieved God sent me* 
 
148 Cousin Eula; oh, 
 
 E. I do believe it. 
 
 B. I admit I have believed it too. I have 
 sometimes wondered why I left home, rela- 
 tives, friends — all protesting — and wandered 
 here, some six hundred miles away. I have 
 often longed for home, sweet home, my fa- 
 ther's house. Wife and I have endured hard- 
 ships we were never called upon to endure be- 
 fore. My health has grown worse instead of 
 better; so I have as often longed for God to 
 show me why I came. My people to' whom I 
 have been preaching this year often weep, and 
 so do I; but I have not had strength to press 
 the battle to the gate. Several months havo 
 passed, and no one has been converted, so far 
 as I know. Mysteriously have I been detained 
 at this place, while I have tried hard to spend 
 this leisure Sabbath elsewhere. My sympa- 
 thies have been enlisted for you, and I desired 
 your salvation before I ate at your table; for 
 you did seem to me to be unnatural and un- 
 happy. Last year I was in another State, 
 burying my dead in Christ's name, and preach- 
 ing Christ to the living. But God knew then, 
 yes, he knew my cousin, whom I used to know 
 twenty years ago, was in trouble on account 
 of sin; I knew it not. I had almost forgotten 
 the tender ties of childhood - days, but God 
 
A Catholic Converted. 149 
 
 knew tliey were only sleeping, not dead. God 
 knew a light had been burning in your room 
 for two years, because Christ, the true Light, 
 had not burned in your soul; but I knew none 
 of this. God knew the sickness and death of 
 little Alice and Lucy, and that he had taken 
 them to himself in heaven — yes, heaven, 
 sweet heaven. The name of Jesus and heaven 
 have ever been sweeter to me since they were 
 the last words of my dying mother. God 
 knew too that you, like Rachel, were weeping 
 for your children, and would not be comforted, 
 because they are not; that you never could 
 call them back to you, but could go to them; 
 that you did really want to go to heaven when 
 you died, but that you had fallen into the 
 clutches of designing persons, who in the 
 name of Christ dishonor Christ, and who had 
 bound you with the chains of hell, glazed over 
 with gold, claimed to be imported from heav- 
 en; that they had fastened the chain with an 
 oath of the devil's forming, though he claims 
 to be an angel of the Churches; that the chain 
 and oath had closed your eyes from the re- 
 flected light of Christ as it is reflected by 
 , Christian association and religious literature ; 
 that you were so conscientious you would not 
 break the seal to read the secret. All this 
 
150 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 God imew, none of which I knew. So I have 
 believed God sent me in his name to be an 
 instrument in his hands to unfetter these 
 chains of hel], while the Holy Spirit from 
 within burst the sealed lips, sealed with the 
 devil's oath in the name of Christ, under the 
 sanction of the holy Catholic Church. 
 
 E. So I do believe it still. 
 
 B. I truly believe my mission here is of 
 God; but should my labor be in vain, then I 
 w T ould not know what to believe. 
 
 E. It shall not be in vain. 
 
 B. Then let us look into our labors. Have 
 you not renounced the Catholic Church? 
 
 E. I have; that is settled. 
 
 B. Were you not converted to God this 
 morning ? 
 
 E. I was, truly. 
 
 B. Do you still feel and realize His love, 
 peace, and joy? 
 
 E. I do. I am as happy as I was then. 
 
 B. And you do not doubt the forgiveness of 
 your sins? 
 
 E. Not at all. 
 
 B. Then I cannot understand why it is you 
 want to go to the priest. It is a mystery to 
 me. 
 
 E. Cousin, if you must know, I will tell 
 
A CxYtholic Converted. 151 
 
 you. I see my way clear, and our future easy, 
 by my going to the priest, 
 
 B. Cousin Eula, you are tempted now to 
 sin, though you may not see it; but the ser- 
 pent is in his coil, or has transformed himself 
 into an angel of light. Satan is not tempting 
 you to doubt your conversion; he is not tempt- 
 ing you to remain in tire Catholic Church; 
 these are not your weakest points. He appears 
 as your friend in your new relation to Christ. 
 He proposes to show you the easier and 
 shorter route to serve your new Master. Per- 
 haps he has whispered to you my words — not 
 mine, but Christ's: "My yoke is easy, and my 
 burden is light." True, these are Christ's words, 
 but Satan must not be allowed to put his in- 
 terpretation on them. He will cheat you if 
 he can. But in this, as in all other scriptures, 
 you must study the mind of the Spirit. Now 
 it is true his yoke is easy, properly understood. 
 Let us illustrate our meaning. Labor is 
 attended with pain, yet the rest following is 
 made sweeter by the labor. Repentance is 
 not pleasant, but grievous; "nevertheless it 
 yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness." 
 Lonely watching during a long, dreary night 
 is not desirable, but the first rays of the 
 morning sun banish all the gloom. 
 
152 Cousin Eula; oh, 
 
 My mother lived a sorrowful life, but as slie 
 neared her three-score years the evening rays 
 of the setting sun shone more brightly. She 
 suffered much as the material form died, but 
 at last her spirit flitted away with " Glory to 
 God! " upon her tongue. 
 
 The end to which our souls are tending is 
 the all-absorbing question. God's will, the 
 only guide-book, should direct us. Christians 
 have suffered much for Christ's sake, enduring 
 to the end, believing the promise, "Blessed 
 are the persecuted for righteousness' sake." 
 
 Paul and Silas were prisoners, but they sung 
 and prayed at midnight until the welkin rang 
 up to heaven, and the answer returned. Dan- 
 iel was cast into the lions' den, but it was the 
 way to the royal palace; and Daniel's God was 
 declared to be the true God. 
 
 No, cousin, we are not to seek easy ways, 
 any more than we are to seek happiness. You 
 know I told you happiness came as a conse- 
 quence; and sure enough, as soon as Christ 
 forgave your sins, happiness flooded your soul 
 so quickly and overwhelmingly you did not 
 know from whence it came. But one thing 
 you did know — you were happy. You were so 
 full of joy it ran out at your eyes, it kindled 
 your face aglow with smiles, it spoke out of 
 
A Catholic Converted. 153 
 
 your lips. No, you are not to inquire after an 
 easy way, but the path of duty. And such a 
 path is the one God desires you to walk in. 
 
 A great general once said that little w r ord, 
 duty, was the greatest word in the English 
 language; and I am not sure but that he was 
 right. It is a word for all nations, for every 
 individual, for all people — none left out; no, 
 not the angels. It is a w T ord for every day, 
 every hour; yes, every minute. It is a word 
 for all time to come. If it is used thus, it 
 will regulate into right line all other words, 
 thoughts, acts, and sayings — our bearing to- 
 ward all men, and our actions toward God. 
 It is a word among others of importance that 
 Christians should learn early in Christian life, 
 and fathom its depths, if it can be fathomed. 
 Learn its meaning; it will fit on you the Chris- 
 tian armor, it will teach you how to wear it, 
 how to best use it to the glory of Jesus Christ, 
 our High-priest, the Captain of the host. And 
 I am so glad Jesus is our Captain in these per- 
 ilous hours. If tempted, duty will lead you 
 to Him who was tempted for you. I said it 
 was for the angels; they do duty; they go on 
 missions of mercy; they are sent forth min- 
 istering spirits to the heirs of salvation. I 
 rather think the saints in glory have need of 
 
154 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 it, for we find Moses and Elias with Christ 
 on the Mount of Transfiguration, talking with 
 him of his decease at Jerusalem — perhaps 
 strengthening and comforting him, I know not. 
 
 Dear reader, are you a Christian? Do you 
 want employment in heaven? If so, do duty 
 on earth first. Do not forget duty. Let it be 
 your watch-word. Let its last act while in the 
 flesh be knocking at the door of heaven, after 
 having done God's will here. If there is any 
 place in which this little word is not needed 
 it is in hell. Perhaps a fallen and lost soul 
 has no employment except to writhe and burn 
 in the torment of flame, with the worm that 
 never dies to prey upon it. The only comfort: 
 You knew your duty, but did it not. 
 
 And now, cousin, have you any thing far- 
 ther to say in justification of your purpose to 
 go to the priest? 
 
 E. Well, cousin, you know how we are situ- 
 ated in this city, and it is the only home we 
 have. My neighbors are all Catholics, and I 
 want to get along in peace if I can. As it is, 
 I shall be persecuted, and to have the ill-will of 
 one Catholic is to have the ill-will of all. You 
 know we are not voluntarily to go into danger. 
 
 B. I admit all you say, and yet we are to go 
 forward in the discharge of every Christian 
 
A Catholic Convebted. 155 
 
 duty, and in the enjoyment of every Christian 
 privilege. You are not to dislike your neigh- 
 bors, or love thern less than before in your new 
 relationship; but, on the other hand, you are 
 not to compromise any part of your religion 
 to gain the favor of your neighbors. To God 
 you stand or fall. But, tell me, how can you 
 avoid persecution by going to the priest? 
 
 E. He can release me if he will. 
 
 B. If you will write out your renunciation 
 of the Catholic Church, its doctrines and prac- 
 tices, and ask him to excommunicate you, it is 
 all he dare do in this land of freedom. 
 
 E. That will not save me from persecution; 
 but if I go and see him, and he releases me, 
 then you and I will be perfectly safe. 
 
 B. Cousin, you shall never go with my con- 
 sent. You told me to-day that your priest 
 was a sweet-talking, smooth-tongued man, and 
 you dreaded to meet him. I offered to meet 
 him for you, and now you propose to go alone 
 to meet him — to go where I cannot protect 
 you, except to follow you with my prayers. 
 And what faith would I have to pray, " Lord, 
 lead not my cousin into temptation," when you 
 persist in going into it? 
 
 E. I do not dread his persuasion now; I can 
 meet that. 
 
156 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 B. What about his threatenings? 
 
 E. That is what I dread most. 
 
 B. Well you may, for he will no more give 
 you up willingly than Satan did. You know 
 how you have struggled to get free from Satan 
 for the last several days, and he still buffets 
 you, if you only knew it. 
 
 E. I think he will release me, if I only go 
 and see him. 
 
 B. How, cousin? Is it possible you are go- 
 ing to take another oath ? 
 
 E. Cousin, I did not want you to ask me 
 what I was going to do, but you read me so 
 well you seem to know my very thoughts. 
 That is the way he will release me, if at all; 
 but I do not know what that oath is. 
 
 B. Not until just then did I suspect such an 
 awful thing. I knew you were blinded and 
 tempted. O the horror of such a thought! I 
 am learning to realize that no deed is too dark 
 or base for the Roman Catholic Church and 
 its priesthood to practice. You did not want 
 me to know it. Such has been your teachings, 
 and such are the chains of this wicked, Satanic 
 institution, claiming to be the Catholic Church, 
 that you give no light from behind the curtain, 
 except as God brings it within the grasp of my 
 comprehension. Although the Spirit of God 
 
A Catholic Converted. 157 
 
 is moving your heart to loathe this mire, and 
 reveal its secrets, that others may not fall into 
 the same pit ; your situation is more critical 
 now in this temptation than before you were 
 converted. How strange that error imbibed 
 leaves its taints after it has been eradicated! 
 And how seldom it is that error is thoroughly 
 removed at once ! And yet it is so, and so it was 
 in the Keformation. It required generations 
 to reach scriptural truth, and each succeeding 
 star shone with greater luster. Luther, Me- 
 lanchthon, and Wesley, each brought more 
 and more truth to light. You go to the priest. 
 Persuasion is the first remedy. The subtlety 
 of a serpent, the wooing of a dove, the blessings 
 of the whole Church, are to be yours, if you 
 will only make a general confession. It will 
 do for the present: receive absolution, and re- 
 main a Catholic. If this fail, you are a helpless 
 woman, in the power of a merciless man who is 
 unwilling to yield his gains lightly. Then fol- 
 low the threatenings, which you may be sure 
 are every thing conceivable to a base mind — all 
 of which you are assured can be perpetrated 
 at once, as you are a helpless prisoner. If you 
 do not yield, and still demand a release, an- 
 other oath is to be administered. You say 
 you do not know what it includes, yet you may 
 
158 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 rest assured that it is more than has gone 
 before. 
 
 E. But, cousin, if I go through with all you 
 say, which I am determined to do, for I will 
 never return to them, would it not be better 
 for me to take the oath than for my life to be 
 continually in peril? 
 
 B. It would not, and I will give you my rea- 
 sons why. [Overheard, and interrupted from 
 an unexpected but friendly source. It was Mr. 
 Uzenia.] 
 
 Mr. Uzenia. Eula, do you want the umbrel- 
 la? [It was raining.] I must go away, and 
 want to know before I go. 
 
 E. I reckon not. 
 
 Mr. U. Well, now, Eula, if you want to go to 
 the priest, I want you to go; and if you do not 
 want to see him, then he shall not see you. If 
 you want to be a Catholic, you shall have the 
 privilege; and if you want to quit them, all 
 right. I want you to do just as you please, 
 and take no person's advice. 
 
 E. Advice is good to have sometimes. 
 
 Mr. U. Here, take this umbrella, and go to 
 the priest, if you want to. 
 
 E. No; you take it with you. I am not go- 
 ing to the priest, nor to be a Catholic either. 
 [Mr. Uzenia appears singular and abrupt, but 
 
A Catholic Converted. 159 
 
 lie does not mean to be so; he does not under- 
 stand these things.] 
 
 B. That is no difference now. "What I de- 
 sire is the salvation of your soul — present and 
 eternal salvation. 
 
 E. I am not exactly satisfied that I ought 
 not to go. 
 
 B. Then we will resume where we left off. 
 I say it is better for you to suffer than to go to 
 the priest. I promised you my reasons why. 
 It is clear you have received instruction that 
 should you want at any time to disconnect 
 yourself with the Catholic Church, you must 
 first go to the priest. For what? To take an 
 oath. What that oath includes you do not 
 know, and it is well you do not. The oath you 
 are proposing to take is to set your person free, 
 but it will bind your conscience, soul, and mind. 
 Such an oath makes you a perpetual slave in 
 these important respects. The point the Ro- 
 man Catholic Church is guarding so close is 
 still clearer to my mind. They can afford to 
 lose you, a single member of the organic 
 body, but the secrets are to be kept at all haz- 
 ards. This pit of despair into which thou- 
 sands have fallen for ages past is to be kept 
 closed from the eyes of the outside world, 
 though it be at the cost of life. Now I know 
 
160 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 why it is such a struggle to renounce Catholi- 
 cism. I know why it cost you such death-like 
 wrestlings to embrace Christ. It is clear why 
 you were so impressed that you must tell all 
 before receiving Christ. Now I know why I was 
 so singularly impressed that I began to write 
 a book, not knowing what I should write. I 
 verily believe God is moving the whole affair for 
 his own glory. He evidently intends his Son 
 shall be honored; and before the end shall be, 
 the heathen shall know him, and the uttermost 
 parts of the earth shall be his possession. You 
 have taken one too many oaths already for your 
 comfort — one that neither God's law nor civil 
 law authorizes. Let me remind you that Jesus 
 Christ has made you free from the Roman 
 yoke, and you cannot take it upon you again 
 without dishonoring Christ. There is as much 
 reason in a swearer, drunkard, or any other 
 open sinner, being turned from the error of his 
 way, renouncing all his sins, and being con- 
 verted to God, and then going to Satan and 
 asking his permission to go free, taking an 
 oath that he will never expose his frauds, 
 tricks, or intimate his tactics, or do any thing 
 that will in any way damage his cause, as there 
 is in your going to a Romish priest, and asking 
 his permission to go free. Christ has made 
 
A Catholic Converted. 161 
 
 you free, and you should assert your freedom. 
 Again I must remind you upon what condition 
 that freedom came. You received the seal 
 of pardon upon your knees this morning, not 
 simply renouncing priestly mockery, but vow- 
 ing to God you would reveal all. Now the oath 
 you propose to take will bind you so that you 
 cannot perform that vow, otherwise it means 
 nothing. Again, God's will was so clear as to 
 your duty that you did not retain the blessing 
 until you vowed to God, in the integrity of your 
 heart, that you would in future do your duty 
 in this matter, whatever you conceived it to be. 
 But you are now tempted to lay an additional 
 oath in the way of following your conscience in 
 these things. Now, if you go to the priest, I 
 am free to say you compromise your religion, 
 and I shall expect you to be a wretched person 
 the rest of your life. 
 
 E. Cousin, the points you make are clear. 
 I now see plainly the serpent in his coil. I 
 see the poison in the cup. I thank God I have 
 been kept from drinking it. It would have 
 proved fatal to my soul's happiness. I have 
 taken my last oath of a priest. I will die first. 
 I thank you, and again and again thank you, 
 for your kind endurance toward me, and for 
 your patient reasoning with me. 
 11 
 
162 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 B. I am so glad you have seen the true light, 
 and that your temptation vanished. 
 
 Bute. Well, cousin, you having been relieved 
 from your temptation, there is another matter 
 yet to be settled. The Catholics must know, 
 sooner or later, that you have renounced their 
 Church. Would it not be better to do so at 
 once? 
 
 Eula. I think not. 
 
 B. I wish you would write out your renun- 
 ciation, and send it in this evening. 
 
 E. Nothing can induce me to do so while 
 you remain in this city. 
 
 B. Why? On my account? 
 
 E. Yes, on your account. 
 
 B. Cousin, if you must suffer, I am willing 
 to suffer with you. 
 
 E. Your life is too precious to lose for my 
 
 BOUI. 
 
 B. Not at all. Life is short, at best. The 
 soul is immortal, and must live forever, or die 
 eternally. I feel this evening that if it were 
 necessary to die for the truth, I am willing. 
 Are you not? 
 
 E. I feel that I am. But it is useless to 
 talk. For your sake I will not make any open 
 renunciation of the Roman Catholic Church 
 
A Catholic Converted. 163 
 
 wliile you are here, but as soon as you are 
 gone I will do so. That is settled now. And, 
 cousin, I want this whole affair kept quiet; it 
 becomes us to act prudently. 
 
 B. Do you consider our lives in danger? 
 
 E. We are in perfect safety at present, for 
 nothing is known outside of our family as yet. 
 But ; cousin, I do want you to be prudent about 
 this matter. I am glad I have told you noth- 
 ing more. But be prudent, and all will be 
 well. 
 
 B. Is not this colored servant a Catholic ? 
 
 E. Yes, sir; but she knows nothing. 
 
 B. Do not be deceived. Doubtless she is 
 closely catechised every day. I notice she 
 goes to mass every morning. 
 
 E. But she cannot tell any thing. 
 
 B. The priest is smart enough to get from 
 her what she sees, and he can judge from that 
 what is going on. This girl has come in sev- 
 eral times to ask you about domestic affairs, 
 and found us in close conversation. 
 
 E. That is true, but that will be looked at 
 in the light of our relationship. 
 
 B. I shall be looked at as a Methodist minis- 
 ter, but it is immaterial with me. I only wish 
 they all knew what the Lord has done for you, 
 and that they w?re an you are. 
 
1G4 Cousin Eula; on, 
 
 E. You take my advice— I have been taking 
 yours. You have been a true and faithful 
 guide to me. You have my thanks. But 
 some things I know better than you. 
 
 B. Very well; if you 'think the priest will 
 not come, I will take a walk in the city. 
 
 E. I have sent him word not to come. I do 
 not think he will; and if he does, he will not 
 see me. 
 
 B. Very well. Cousin Eula, have you eaten 
 any thing yet? 
 
 E. Not yet. 
 
 B. Why not? 
 
 E. I am doing well — I will eat after awhile. 
 [She is now too joyful to eat — all smiles.] 
 
 B. How long have you been fasting? 
 
 E. I hardly know; I think I ate something 
 yesterday morning. [Pleasantry.] 
 
 B. To what Church do you belong? 
 
 E. I hardly know. I suppose I might be 
 counted out now. I have an old Methodist 
 certificate. 
 
 B. It is out of date; but I suppose you 
 might be admitted on it upon the ground of 
 there being no society of our Church in this 
 city — to our shame ! You would not like to 
 use it, having been a Catholic. I believe I 
 would start out anew. And when you get out 
 
A Catholic Converted. 165 
 
 into the country — which I hope will be soon 
 — join the Church, do your duty, and you will 
 be happy. 
 
 E. I fully intend to do so. 
 
 B. Have your children been baptized? 
 
 E. Yes, sir. 
 
 B. By whom? 
 
 E. By the priest. 
 
 B. It is not a custom in our Church to re- 
 baptize. After learning as much as I have 
 about the Roman Catholic Church, without 
 consultation with any of the authorities, I 
 would advise you to have your children bap- 
 tized by a Methodist minister. Teach your 
 children of their latter baptism, and not their 
 first. Cousin, is there such a thing as going 
 so far in Bo man Catholicism — for instance, to 
 baptism — and you would turn back if you 
 could — that is, if you had the moral courage 
 and true heroism to do so ? 
 
 E. Cousin, I love to converse with you, but 
 I had hoped you would cease to look so close 
 into these things, and spare me such pene- 
 trating questions. It is better to give you a 
 direct answer than an evasive one. What you 
 anticipate is too true; and I feel I ought to 
 admit that I have never seen the day that I 
 was satisfied or happy in the Catholic Church, 
 
166 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 though I tried to be, and said I was. I sup- 
 pose if I had never seen you, I would never 
 have made that admission; but I am so glad 
 I have seen you, and wish we could live near 
 together. 
 
 After tea, and the usual family devotions, I 
 conversed long with Cousin George about the 
 importance of removal. At the same time 
 Cousin Eula talked with her husband on the 
 same subject. 
 
 Wednesday Morning, April 3, 1878. 
 
 Bide. Well, cousin, tell me how you rested 
 last night. 
 
 Eula. I blew out the light, and never slept 
 sweeter. I feel much refreshed this morning. 
 
 B. Then you are reaping already the fruits 
 of your conversion to God. What are your 
 feelings this morning spiritually? 
 
 E. Calm, peaceful, and happy. 
 
 The day was principally spent in writing 
 on this book, committing facts and impres- 
 sions to paper. Our writing was occasionally 
 suspended for a walk, shopping, refreshment, 
 or sleep, much needed from continued anxiety. 
 
 E. Cousin, how can you write so much? 
 You have been writing nearly all day. 
 
 B. I am writing (to me) an interesting ac- 
 
A Catholic Converted. 167 
 
 count of the conversion of my cousin from 
 Roman Catholicism to Protestantism; from 
 the priest to Christ Jesus; from sin to right- 
 eousness. You know I told you that you 
 would be a happy woman when this little book 
 was finished, and here you are happy almost 
 before I begin to write. Will you tell me what 
 has been going on to-day among the Catholics 
 in reference to my prolonged stay? 
 
 E. They know nothing, bat are uneasy. I 
 have received notification to go to confession, 
 and invitations from Catholic friends to visit 
 their homes; but I know too well what it all 
 means. 
 
 B. May you ever be so wise. 
 
 After a social family talk and prayers, we 
 all retired to rest. 
 
 Bute. Cousin, I suppose we shall leave on 
 the morning train. 
 
 Eula. O no. I cannot consent to that. 
 
 B. Wife thinks we ought to go, and it seems 
 our duty is performed here. 
 
 E. I cannot forgive you, cousin, if you leave 
 this morning. Besides, I want to have a talk 
 with you this morning. 
 
 B. Very well. Of course, I will not break 
 off abruptly. 
 
168 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 E. I did not sleep so sweetly last night as 
 the night before. I am greatly troubled this 
 morning. 
 
 B. What can be your trouble ? You do not 
 doubt your conversion to God? 
 
 E. No, not that. 
 
 B. Do you not feel conscious of His love to 
 you? 
 
 E. I do. I am happy in that respect. 
 
 B. "What then ? I hope you will speak free- 
 ly whatever is on your mind. 
 
 E. Well, cousin, I want you to make me a 
 promise this morning. Will you not? 
 
 B. It depends upon the nature of the prom- 
 ise you exact. 
 
 E. You can make it if you will, and I will 
 be satisfied. 
 
 B. Well, let me hear what it is, and I will 
 consider whether or not it will be right to 
 make the promise. 
 
 E. Well, will you not promise me before- 
 hand? You will, will you not? 
 
 B. Not I, cousin. I cannot promise before- 
 hand to do what I know not. When Herodias's 
 daughter danced before Herod, it pleased him, 
 and he promised her whatsoever she might 
 ask, to the half of his kingdom. She asked 
 the head of John the Baptist in a charger. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 169 
 
 His rash promise grieved him, and well it 
 might. To make such a promise would be a 
 leap in the dark. I would only resign myself 
 so unreservedly into the hands of but one — ■ 
 that is God — because he is infallible, and too 
 wise to err, and too good to be unkind. 
 
 E. I am afraid you will refuse me, but I tell 
 you you must not refuse. 
 
 B. I am afraid so too ; but if I can gratify 
 your wishes consistently with my conscience, 
 I will gladly do so. You and I have made 
 some very solemn promises to God lately. 
 Upon these vows, harmonizing with God's will 
 and word of promise, our faith was founded. 
 The conversion of your soul to God was the 
 result of our mutual vow and faith. Now that 
 you and I may be happy, and at last get to 
 heaven, it is more important to perform our 
 vows than it was to make them. Do I antici- 
 pate you? 
 
 E. You always do, and I think you do now. 
 But I tell you, cousin, this promise is of im- 
 portance. 
 
 B. Well, let us have your request. 
 
 E. You are writing a book, and I want you 
 to promise me you will not write any more, 
 and burn up what you have written. 
 
 B. I did anticipate you to some extent. I 
 
170 Cousin Eula; or, , 
 
 know not why, except I believed you were 
 tempted in some way. 
 
 E. Will you not promise ? 
 
 B. I will not, cousin; but hear my reasons 
 why. I know that I have been regenerated. 
 I believe I have enjoyed communion with God 
 above ordinary. Heaven is far off yet. I 
 want to get there. I believe the way through 
 the gate is obedience to God's will and word. 
 If a person will not grieve the Holy Ghost, 
 but obey his impressions, he may have much 
 of his presence. The Holy Spirit worketh in 
 us both to will and to do of his good pleasure, 
 causing us to work out our salvation with fear 
 and trembling. I do tremble for fear I might 
 grieve away his presence. I have ever been 
 desirous to be a missionary, but I know my 
 inability, mentally and physically. When I 
 was on my way to this ancient Southern city, 
 and heard our Church was not here, I felt sad. 
 When I knew your personal condition, I felt 
 sadder still. I began to pray for your conver- 
 sion. I felt the presence of God with me. I 
 believed. After conversing with you Saturday 
 evening and Sabbath night, on Monday I was 
 impressed to write a book. Strange impres- 
 sion, for I am not an author. The temptation 
 accompanied the impression that it would cost 
 
A CATHOLrc Converted. 171 
 
 me my life. I solemnly accepted the impres- 
 sion with a vow to God: "If thou, Lord, wilt 
 convert my cousin, now in deep trouble, I will 
 write the book, cost me what it may." I was 
 and am still satisfied the impression was of 
 divine origin, and that God accepted my vow. 
 I never doubted you would be converted, 
 though I never thought we should be led 
 through such deep waters. 
 
 E. I know, cousin, you always just appeared 
 to me as if you knew I should be converted. 
 
 B. And so I believed. 
 
 E. I thank you now for your patience and 
 labor for me. But, cousin, if you persist in 
 writing that book, it will ruin us. 
 
 B. Kuinyou? How, cousin? 
 
 E. You know my home is here, and our 
 temporal interest is here, and I should be 
 continually persecuted, if I escaped with my 
 life. 
 
 B. But you need not remain here. Are you 
 not willing to leave this city for some other 
 place? 
 
 E. I am, but my husband is not. I talked 
 with him again last night. He says he never 
 expects to live anywhere else. 
 
 B. But if he knew your life was in danger 
 here he would be willing to move away. 
 
172 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 E. He does not understand these things, 
 and will not appreciate the delicate situation. 
 
 B. I will see him for you. 
 
 E. It is useless. 
 
 B. We will hope not. 
 
 E. I am afraid for you to talk with him on 
 this subject. The trouble is he will not hear 
 and consider. 
 
 B. You need not be afraid. I will be kind, 
 and will not be offended at any thing he may 
 say, for your sake. It is important for you to 
 move away from this place. 
 
 E. Cousin, you will not make the promise ? 
 
 B. No, cousin, impossible. I might as well 
 have suffered you day before yesterday to 
 go to the priest and compromise your re- 
 ligion with another oath as for me to make 
 you such a promise as that. I should be dis- 
 honoring God just as much as you would have 
 done. We are both under solemn vows to 
 God. It is our duty to perform them, unless 
 God excuse us, which I do not feel he does 
 in my case. As to consequences, they are in 
 the hands of God. 
 
 E. Cousin, if you will not promise, it will 
 give me trouble. My husband knows you are 
 writing the book. He says his home is here, 
 that he has no enemies, and wants none. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 173 
 
 B. He is right in wanting no enemies, but if 
 circulating truth — truth that God demands at 
 our hands — make enemies, then we are willing 
 to have them. The smiles of God are more 
 to be desired than the smiles of men. Nov/ 
 say this, cousin, to your husband: that I will 
 not, as a Christian gentleman, use your name 
 in public without your consent. Nor will I 
 hastily print any thing; but write I must. I 
 will see him about removal. 
 
 E. Cousin, it is useless for you to see him; 
 nothing can change his views. 
 
 B. I am by that as I am by the book: I 
 feel I must seek your temporal safety for your 
 soul's good. 
 
 E. But, cousin, my husband told me I must 
 not tell you he objected; for he believes you 
 to be a Christian gentleman, and he prefers 
 not talking about the matter. I could not gain 
 my point without telling you that he objected. 
 So I would rather you would not mention it to 
 him. 
 
 B. Not at all. Only give him the assurance 
 I have given you, and the way will be clear for 
 me to see him with good results. 
 
 E. But, cousin, he will not move away; and 
 if you write the book we shall be ruined, and 
 so will you. Will you not give it up? 
 
174 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 B. I cannot. It is a conscientious matter, 
 based upon an impression, and a vow to God. 
 
 E. Then I will go back into the Catholic 
 Church. 
 
 B. You do not believe in the Catholic 
 Church, and if you voluntarily go back to it, 
 you do it hypocritically; hence you will lose 
 your soul. 
 
 E. So I shall; but it is better for me to lose 
 my soul than for you to lose your life with 
 your rashness. 
 
 B. Tour view is incorrect. The soul is of as 
 much greater value over the body as eternity 
 is over time. But how w T ould such an act on 
 your part save my life ? 
 
 E. It would stop your publication, for the 
 book would not be considered so valuable, and 
 it would be useless to prosecute your work. 
 
 B. It is true our book would be much marred 
 by such an action on your part, and you would 
 be required to deny its truth, but as to saving 
 my life, such an act on your part would be the 
 very way to destroy it. 
 
 E. How could that be? 
 
 D. Would that be your only motive in going 
 back to the Catholics? 
 
 E. My only motive would be to prevent your 
 rashness. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 175 
 
 B. The way you would lead me into danger 
 would be thus: you would be closely studied 
 by the priest, just as a person studies a book. 
 You are very conscientious, and easily read. 
 Every thing that has passed between us would 
 be required from your lips, and confession for 
 the same. They would soon learn from you 
 what information I had received, much of 
 which the world has never known. 
 
 E. You are correct. I should have to admit 
 all, and confess for all. But, cousin, the priest 
 is not allowed to tell to any one what our con- 
 fessions are. So it would go no farther. 
 
 B. My dear cousin, you remind me of an in- 
 nocent, unsuspecting bird entrapped, ensnared. 
 You are so conscientious yourself, you think 
 everybody else to be so — even the priest. You 
 have told me if what has passed was known to 
 the Catholic Church that my life would not be 
 safe, and then you are tempted to tell it, trust- 
 ing to priestly honesty. 
 
 E. "Well, cousin, what shall I do then? 
 
 B. Give your husband the assurance I have 
 given you, and that will satisfy him; and then 
 let you and me do our whole duty in the future, 
 as God directs. 
 
 E. "Well, cousin, would you give your real 
 name? 
 
176 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 B. Most assuredly I would. Such would be 
 necessary to give authenticity to the book. 
 
 E. Then you had as well use mine, for I as- 
 sure you that you are better known in this city 
 than you even suspect. * 
 
 B. The time may yet come when you will be 
 glad to give your name, and life too, if neces- 
 sary, for the truth's sake. 
 
 E. Cousin, what good would follow the pub 
 lication of such a book? 
 
 B. This book will contain the topics and 
 conversations that have led you from priestly 
 slavery to Christ Jesus. And why not hope 
 the book will lead many of its readers into the 
 same path of truth and life ? 
 
 E. But, cousin, Catholics will not read it. 
 [Picking up a Southern Christian Advocate, con- 
 taining the Letters of Bishop Marvin, she 
 said], I tell you a Catholic will not read a word 
 of this paper, farther than to see it is a Prot- 
 estant publication. They dare not do it. 
 
 B. Cousin, all Catholics are not so conscien- 
 tious in regard to their oaths and vows as you 
 are. For two years you have been searching 
 in the dark for the way of salvation, having no 
 one to instruct you. You yielded to the influ- 
 ence surrounding you, and joined the Roman 
 Catholic Church. You have been so intent 
 
A Catholic Converted. 177 
 
 on the salvation of your soul that you have 
 obeyed every mandate of the Church. Tou 
 naturally suppose every one else to be as hon- 
 est as yourself. I know it must have cost you 
 an effort to say, " Mother, I cannot read that 
 book now. I am a Catholic." But many 
 Catholics will read it in secret, and believe its 
 truths, as they are bound to do from personal 
 knowledge. Seeing from this book there is a 
 better way, they will turn, like you, from priest- 
 ly slavery to freedom in Christ Jesus. Al- 
 though the time has come that Protestants 
 number nearly equal to Catholics, the Roman 
 Catholics feign to believe their Church to be 
 the only and true Church of Christ, and they 
 seek by every possible means to bring every 
 one into the same fold. Put this book into the 
 hands of Protestants, and they can easily put 
 to shame and confusion the Roman proselyter. 
 Take your own case as an example. If such a 
 book had been read by you before you came 
 into this city, you would not have suffered as 
 you have. More than once since I came you 
 have exclaimed, " O that I had seen you three 
 months ago!" The very vehemency of your 
 language revealed a heart sick of idolatry, into 
 which it had been betrayed — a heart that 
 would gladly undo all, but a heart that saw for 
 12 
 
178 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 a time and felt darkness from which demons 
 would almost flee, until at last you saw, through 
 faith, the light in Christ, that lighted your soul 
 all aglow, and made you feel his love flowing 
 through your soul as 'it never did before. 
 Such has been the anguish through which you 
 have passed in this dread ordeal that you ex- 
 claimed, " Death is no name for this ! " Now it 
 has been an unusual providence that brought 
 me to you at this time. You rather think that 
 had I not come you would likely have lived and 
 died in your idolatry. My time is short in life, 
 at best; my labors are limited; but few such 
 opportunities will likely be afforded me in 
 person to help others as I have helped you. 
 But, God willing, I will send out this little 
 book. One part every Boman Catholic knows 
 is too true; the other part every true believ- 
 er, genuinely converted, rejoices in as true. 
 Let each read for himself separately, or both 
 together, as we have done, and to God we look 
 to sanctify the means for the salvation of those 
 who read. 
 
 E. Then, Cousin Buie, I will join you in 
 prayer to God that he may sanctify your book 
 to the salvation of others, as he has sanctified 
 your conversation to my salvation. 
 
 B. Amen. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 179 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Father F. D. La Fontaine interviewed — Correspondence — 
 To the Catholic reader — To the Protestant reader — Why 
 the book has been delayed. 
 
 It was a beautiful May-day, 1881, on the Saint 
 John's Biver, that the following occurred. It 
 was on cabin-deck that one, for awhile, was 
 spokesman to a few listeners. The spokesman 
 proved to be a Koman Catholic priest, and one 
 of the number a Catholic layman, while the oth- 
 er two were Protestants. It was soon evident 
 that the priest was fishing, but not in the Saint 
 John's Biver — in which there is an abundance 
 of fish— but on board the "Water Lily," that 
 plows the waters of the above river. To one 
 of the Protestants it did seem like the other 
 was biting at the bait; but, on a private inter- 
 view, it was ascertained that each was only 
 sucking at it, with mouths closed. But upon 
 every shake of the line, the priest, who held 
 the pole, leaned over in deep suspense, looking 
 for the coveted moment when he should draw 
 his trout to the shore. The priest was Father 
 La Fontaine, a French-Italian. He impressed 
 
180 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 me at first as very conscientious. He appeared 
 to be between twenty-five and thirty years old. 
 
 The first question, from the Baptist brother, 
 puzzled the young Father. The question was, 
 " Upon what scripture do the Catholics insti- 
 tute mass? " He was unable to answer. 
 
 I then conversed with him as follows: 
 
 Minister. That duty you call confession — 
 I cannot understand the necessity of it. It 
 seems to me that it is better for one to go di- 
 rect to God, and acknowledge his sin, and re- 
 ceive forgiveness. 
 
 Priest. O no; dat would not do. There 
 would not be any humility in dat. De man 
 say, If I sin again, I go to de Lord, and he 
 forgive me; but if he come to de priest, he in- 
 flict some punishment. Dat punishment pre- 
 vent him committing de sin again. 
 
 I have written the above sentence as it was 
 spoken. Hereafter I will substitute correct 
 English for his broken English. 
 
 M. Well, do you hold that a person cannot 
 go direct to God with his sin, and receive for- 
 giveness, without going to the priest? 
 
 P. O no; when he comes to the priest, that 
 is coming to God. 
 
 M. Do you mean to say that the priest is the 
 vicar of Christ, and stands instead of God? 
 
A Catholic Converted. 181 
 
 P. Well, I will illustrate my meaning in this 
 way: If you be in Jacksonville, and I in Saint 
 Augustine, and you want to send me a message, 
 the telegraph office in each place must be con- 
 nected by the wire; then you can send the 
 message. Now the priest is the same as the 
 wire. Tou understand? 
 
 M. O yes. 
 
 P. Then that is it. 
 
 M. They tell me you have to kneel down be- 
 fore the priest when you make confession, and 
 I do not think I could ever kneel to man. 
 
 P. Well, you see you confess to God through 
 the priest; and the priest is not as a man, but 
 he acts for God. 
 
 M. But is it true that one kneels before the 
 priest in confession? 
 
 P. O yes. . 
 
 M. Do priests ever confess? 
 
 P. O yes; if we commit mortal sin we can- 
 not receive confession from another until w r e 
 first confess to another priest. 
 
 M. . Well, you have been serving the Church 
 in Saint Augustine. Suppose you were to 
 commit mortal sin — you have no other priest 
 there — how would you manage in that case? 
 
 P. Well, I would just write to the priest at 
 Jacksonville, and tell him to come over a day 
 
182 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 or two, and we would have a good time. And 
 when he came, I would say, There is a little 
 matter I want to confess. 
 
 M. Well, you say you have to confess when 
 you commit mortal sin. What is the differ- 
 ence between mortal sin and any other sin? 
 
 P. Mortal sin is willful sin — when we sin 
 knowing it is sin at the time. For instance, 
 every day, between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m., I am to 
 read vestry three hours — that is, read service. 
 Such is the commandment of my Church. If 
 I do not do it, I sin. You would think my 
 traveling to-day would excuse me, but not so. 
 I must read the service, or I commit mortal 
 sin. 
 
 M. Well, it seems to me as if I would not 
 like to make all my secrets known to a priest. 
 
 P. Well, you see that is this way: he keeps 
 them ; they never pass his lips. 
 
 M. I would be afraid they would make fun 
 of some of my little sins. 
 
 P. O pshaw! they will not do that. 
 
 He looked at his watch, and said, " Excuse 
 me; I have just time to finish my service by 3 
 o'clock." I replied, " Certainly, I would not 
 interfere with your religious duties. You have 
 interested me, and, had you time, I would be 
 glad to hear more from you." I began to 
 
A Catholic Convekted. 183 
 
 move my chair farther off, when he said, " O, 
 well, let me see. I — may be I — well, I will 
 talk more with yon anyhow." I replied, u O 
 no; I wonld not interfere with the sacredness 
 of your hour." What he told me previously 
 was mortal sin, he seemed willing to commit 
 in the hope of catching a fish, 
 
 M. It seems to me you are not familiar 
 enough with our language, and that you do not 
 speak plain enough, to do much good preach- 
 ing among our American people. 
 
 P. Well, you see that is not with us like it 
 is with Protestants. Most of our service con- 
 sists in the liturgy of the Church. And when 
 we preach, we take one of the canonized saints 
 most of the time, and narrate some of the 
 deeds of their lives. 
 
 M. Well, tell me what is the object of such 
 preaching. 
 
 P. It is twofold: first, it is to inspire our 
 hearers to similar noble deeds; second, to nar- 
 rate the noble deeds of the saints will cause 
 them to feel tenderly toward us, and they will 
 make prayer to God in our behalf. 
 
 Let the reader imagine Saint Patrick listen- 
 ing to a thousand orations about him on Saint 
 Patrick's Day — yea, in different continents — 
 and then praying for all these ten thousand 
 
18 4 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 devoted hearers. It is impossible to conceive 
 ot such being true without ascribing divine 
 attributes to Saint Patrick, which is nothing 
 less than making him a god. This saint-wor- 
 ship is absurd in the extreme. 
 
 I asked for his address. He gave it to me, 
 and I left him to himself. He began intently 
 reading his task, but it was not long before I 
 saw him talking with a lady, whom I took to 
 be a Catholic. The conversation continued 
 until the boat landed at Jacksonville, just at 
 3 P.M. 
 
 COEEESPONDENCE. 
 
 Milkee, Ga., June 10, 1881. 
 Father La Fonuiss-Jin. and Bear Sir.— It ha« 
 been about a month since I met yon on the Saint John's 
 Eiver, m Florida. We were engaged in conversation in 
 reference to the Catholic Chnrch. I am a Protestant, but 
 if I have not the troth, I want it. Some things about the 
 Catholic Church I do not understand ; and, of course, some 
 things we hear may not be true. In investigating the 
 matter, I have heard that one has to take an oath in join- 
 ing the Catholic Church. Of course, you can tell me 
 whether this be true or not; and, if true, show me the 
 necessity of requiring an oath of an applicant for mem- 
 bership. 
 
 You told me when I was with you that a Mason could 
 not become a Catholic without first renouncing his Masonry 
 VV ill you be so kind as to show me wherein Masonry an- 
 tagonizes your Church and God's word? I recognize it as 
 
A Catholic Converted. 185 
 
 one's duty to renounce any and every thing that would 
 keep him from serving God and saving his soul ; but one 
 cannot renounce error until he first becomes conscious he 
 is in error. 
 
 Will you be so kind as to give me information on these 
 two points — namely, the oath, if it be a fact, and the ne- 
 cessity of giving up Masonry ? 
 
 Inclosed find envelope and stamp. Please answer me 
 on the above points, and you will oblige yours truly, 
 
 J. Buie McFarland. 
 
 Tallahassee, Fla., June 14, 1881. 
 
 Dear J. Buie McFarland :— Excuse me, I could not 
 answer before I understood the grace of God was acting 
 wonderfully upon you ; yet it is in your power to embrace 
 or reject. If you were very well acquainted, and knew 
 what was the Church of God, or the Catholic Church, you 
 would not hesitate a moment to give up and renounce 
 your Masonry. In these matters you are to go slowly, but 
 you must also pray with earnestness to God to enlighten 
 your mind, and to give you the grace of perseverance in 
 searching the points where you have doubt ; and with such 
 good-will God will help you sooner than you think. 
 
 I do not know if you are baptized or not. Get a Cate- 
 chism, and see by yourself all about the engagement you 
 take freely toward God. If you want to enjoy the bene- 
 fit of the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ with the bap- 
 tism, you will be born again spiritually, and through the 
 baptism you will be incorporated into the great and large 
 family of Jesus Christ, and into all your duty. The law- 
 ful agent of Christ will settle your mind. 
 
 To be sure, if you make up your mind to become a sin- 
 cere and true Catholic, you will be obliged, at the presence 
 
186 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 of God and his lawful minister, to make an act of faith, 
 and to renounce your former error. You will easily and 
 courageously do it, if, as you said, " you want to save your 
 soul, and be happy here and hereafter." 
 
 The aim of Masonry is to paralyze the work of the Son 
 of God, Jesus Christ, and to make of their members in- 
 struments of Satan, and to deceive people under the man- 
 tle of charity, but all with hypocrisy and deception. Ma- 
 sonry hates the throne and the altar; it is just the opposite 
 of catholicity. If you want to serve God, you must deny 
 yourself and renounce the enemies of God. Are you sin- 
 cerely disposed to work out your salvation? I will pray, 
 and God will be praised. You will soon, in your own 
 country, find a priest who will kindly and charitably help 
 you, and receive you into the large Catholic family of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Hoping you will persevere in your undertaking, and 
 trusting you will embrace the grace and heavenly favor 
 that God is ready to grant you, I remain yours truly, 
 
 F. D. La Fontaine. 
 
 P. S. — I intend to pray personally for you next Sunday. 
 
 Milner, Ga., June 21, 1881. 
 Father La Fontaine — Rev. and Dear Sir: — Your 
 favor of the 14th is to hand. I will trouble you once more. 
 If you have time to answer, you will oblige me. In your 
 reply of the 14th, you answer me more fully on the subject 
 of Masonry than on the other point — namely, I wanted to 
 know if it was true that one must take an oath in joining 
 the Catholic Church. Your reply still leaves the question 
 unanswered. You say, "Get a Catechism, and see by 
 yourself all about the engagement you take freely toward 
 God." May I infer from this that I may learn all about 
 
A Catholic Converted. 187 
 
 the obligation of a Catholic from the Catechism? Next 
 you say that, in receiving baptism, "the lawful agent of 
 Jesus Christ will settle in peace your mind." Please, who 
 is this agent that gives this peace ? Next you say, " To be 
 sure, if you make up your mind to become a sincere and 
 true Catholic, you will be obliged, at the presence of God 
 and his lawful minister, to make an act of faith, and to 
 renounce your former error." Now, this act of faith and 
 renouncing error is the very question at issue. What I 
 want to know is, Is this act of faith simply a vow, or is it an 
 oath ? You can tell me if you will. The next point is, 
 Can I have the right to see what it is? that I may read it, 
 and study it, so that I may see for myself, and not another, 
 whether I can conscientiously take it and be able to keep it. 
 
 You know I have heretofore told you that I was a 
 Protestant. All Protestants have an "act of faith" — a 
 vow. (See Discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 South, pages 227-241.) 
 
 I thank you for the interest you manifest in me, and for 
 your prayers in my behalf. I believe all true Christians 
 pray for all mankind. Yours truly, 
 
 J. Buie McFarland. 
 
 Tallahassee, Fla., July 15, 1881. 
 
 Dear Sir : — I was not at home when your letter reached 
 Tallahassee. Duty goes before every thing. I told you 
 in my last if you were anxious to know the truth, the sim- 
 plest way was to see the priest who visits your place, get a 
 Catechism, and, having a good understanding on the mat- 
 ter with him, you could save time and anxious trouble ; 
 you would also easily get over all kinds of difficulty. 
 
 To be sure, you have a solemn oath to take. You know 
 you have heretofore told me you were a Mason and a Prot- 
 
188 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 estant. Wishing to join the Catholic Church, you must 
 renounce your former error, and make your act of faith to 
 believe all the truths that the Catholic Church believes 
 and teaches in her dogmas ; also the fifteen mysteries of 
 the life of Christ our Lord. The oath is to be taken at 
 the foot of the altar in the place where you have public 
 worship — that is, where the priest says mass when he vis- 
 its your place. After that, in the reception of baptism is 
 included a tryle cross, that you make at the presence of 
 your God, the priest, and your godfather, renouncing to 
 Satan. Get the "Catholic Christian Instructed," and in it 
 you will find what you want. 
 
 Hoping you will earnestly answer to the grace of God, 
 I remain yours truly in Jesus Christ, 
 
 F. D. La Fontaine. 
 
 Milner, Ga., Sept. 21, 1881. 
 
 Father La Fontaine — Dear Sir: — It has been over 
 two months since any thing passed between us. In your 
 last you answered me fully, except at one point — that is, 
 the oath that must be taken in joining the Catholics. You 
 admit an oath must be taken, but you do not tell me what 
 it is. You refer me to the priest who visits my place. 
 None comes. You also ask me to purchase " Catholic 
 Christian Instructed," and that I would find in it what I 
 wanted to know. I have done so, but I do not find any 
 oath. I feel satisfied you are unwilling for me to examine 
 the oath. If I am incorrect in this last statement, you can 
 correct me, and convince me differently, by sending me 
 the required oath. Will you do so? Well, we shall see. 
 
 Inclosed I send you envelope and stamp. Your speedy 
 reply will oblige me. Your friend, 
 
 J. Br it: Mc Far land. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 189 
 
 Father La Fontaine has silently dismissed 
 us — so we now dismiss him. 
 
 TO THE CATHOLIC KEADEK. 
 
 You remember I told my consin that some 
 would read in secret. Tou have. I trust our 
 conversation you have read may be sanctified 
 to your salvation, as it was to hers. Therefore, 
 come, let you and me reason together. 
 
 I have charged you with being a moral and 
 intellectual slave. Think of the absurdities of 
 penance, confession, purgatory, mass, praying 
 to the saints, etc. The charge I have brought 
 against you is a very grave one. If that 
 charge has been sustained, you ought to as- 
 sert your freedom with which God has made 
 you free; if it has not been sustained, then 
 I ought to be ashamed. But I maintain it has 
 been fully sustained in what has gone before. 
 
 God has given you a mind, an intellect, with 
 which you are to think, reason, meditate, and 
 decide for yourself what is right, and what is 
 wrong. But the Roman Catholic Church says 
 you shall not use that .regal power, that you 
 shall not read Protestant literature, or attend 
 Protestant services. Thus the Church takes 
 away your personal right, and enslaves your 
 intellect. Moral slavery necessarily follows. 
 
190 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 Moral actions have their motive-power in the 
 heart, yet they are governed by the intellect. 
 
 The Catholic Church responds that the 
 priests are responsible for what they teach you, 
 and for your salvation, if you obey their teach- 
 ings. This is the very question at issue. We as- 
 sert that God has a right to locate responsibility 
 in his subjects. He has located it in us indi- 
 vidually, and individual responsibility brings 
 us the right of private judgment. This indi- 
 vidual responsibility you cannot part with if 
 you so desired. To attempt it is to jeopard- 
 ize your salvation. You are bound to search 
 for the truth. Nor can you surrender your 
 private judgment of what truth is. To do so 
 you are enslaved, and you cannot know for 
 yourself whether you serve God or the devil. 
 
 Next, I have charged you with being guilty 
 of idolatry — this is also a grave charge; but you 
 saw and felt the truth of it as you read what has 
 gone before. It lies at the very bottom of Cath- 
 olic teachings and practice. You subscribe to it 
 when you subscribe to infallibility, whether you 
 locate it in the Church or in the pope. You sub- 
 scribe to it when you assert you believe in tran- 
 substantiation, which your eyes, touch, smell, 
 and taste, convince you is a gross falsehood. 
 You subscribe to it when you agree to believe 
 
A Catholic Converted. 191 
 
 whatever the Church of Rome officially teach- 
 es you. Yes, sir, in doing so you make the 
 pope your immutable saviour, god — the creeds 
 of the Church your Bible. You practice idol- 
 atry every time you pray to the Virgin Mary, 
 or any other saint, or confess and receive ab- 
 solution from any priest. 
 
 My dear Catholic reader, I have, in this lit- 
 tle, unpretentious volume, dealt very plainly 
 with you, and with your tenets, to which you 
 have subscribed. What I have written I have 
 written fearlessly and conscientiously, because 
 I felt God demanded such of me. I have 
 written w 7 hat I believe to be the truth, and 
 have written it for your soul's sake. I send 
 this little book forth, hoping it may lead you 
 to freedom in Christ Jesus. 
 
 Do you ask me what I would have you do ? 
 I reply, Come out of your Roman slavery. 
 Break that wicked oath you took at those slav- 
 ish altars. Yes, come out of her; adopt the 
 Bible, which is the religion of Protestants, as 
 your rule of faith. Do not hope you can re- 
 form Borne; she is too hoary in sin; her roots 
 and branches are too full of error. Again 
 I say, Come out of her for truth's sake, and, 
 above all, for your soul's sake. 
 
 I subscribe myself one who loves you, and 
 
192 Cousin Eula; or, 
 
 desires to meet you among the Church of the 
 first-born, washed in the blood of the Lamb, 
 Christ Jesus. J. Buie McFarland. 
 
 TO THE PROTESTANT READER. 
 
 The first objection you meet will be, "If I 
 follow the example of the writer of this book 
 I shall become liable to the charge of prose- 
 lyting." Very well, let us admit it, in the 
 sense of converting one from the error of sin 
 and idolatry to righteousness, and to a new 
 life in Christ Jesus. Such cannot be sin. To 
 impart light and inculcate truth is a duty im- 
 posed upon every true follower of Christ, both 
 by his teaching and example. But you fear 
 that anathema pronounced against one who 
 proselytes, and you say the Roman Catholics 
 claim to be the Church of Christ. Very well, 
 so does a Mormon term himself a Latter-day 
 Saint; but who would hesitate to convert a 
 Mormon from following Joseph Smith's proph- 
 ecies to the New Testament truth? or who 
 would hesitate in converting a Roman Catholic 
 from his priestly idolatry, image-worship, and 
 popish trust, to simple faith in Christ, and 
 spiritual worship to God, who is a Spirit, and 
 seeketh such to worship him as worship in 
 spirit and in truth ? Not I. 
 
A Catholic Converted. 193 
 
 My dear reader, do not be deceived. You 
 How know what the Eoman Catholic Church is. 
 Do not be beguiled; they want you and your 
 children. Do not trust the education and 
 training of your children to them. No, do not- 
 let the Eoman Catholics deceive you. You 
 have enough of the truth in this book to put 
 to silence and contempt any move they may 
 make to entice you into their Church. Ask 
 them to read this book with you, and ask them 
 if it does not contain the truth. 
 
 Your friend and protector* of the faith once 
 delivered unto the Churchy 
 
 J. Buie McFarland. 
 
 THE DELAY OF THE BOOK. 
 
 If this little book be so important a revela- 
 tion, you ask, why has it been delayed these 
 three or four years ? 
 
 I answer. First, I began to write it from 
 impressions of duty. I truly believe I wrote 
 it for the glory of God, and under providential 
 circumstances. When I would think of pub- 
 lishing, and submit it to some one for criticism, 
 from whom I always received encouragement, 
 then I have felt a personal pride, which I have 
 sought to destroy or foil by laying all aside. 
 I now feel I have gained the victory at that 
 13 
 
194 Cousin Eula; ok, 
 
 point, and that I can now publish, as I wrote, 
 for the glory of God. In the next place, I 
 have never been able, nor am I now able, to 
 redeem that promise I long since made, that 
 you should know the secret chain of Roman- 
 ism, though I know it is there, and your Cath- 
 olic neighbor just over the way knows what it 
 is, and where it is. I mean that dreadful oath 
 every Catholic has taken at the altar. I can 
 truly say, as was said of the angels in reference 
 to the plan of salvation, I have desired to look 
 into these things, and have not been permitted. 
 But I cannot say of this secret chain, as was said 
 of Simeon, in reference to his seeing Christ, 
 " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
 peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 
 Yet I trust to God that whatever Catholic may 
 chance to read this book will see his salvation 
 in Christ, and rejoice in him as did Simeon of 
 old. In reference to the oath — which every 
 priest who ministers at the altar, and every 
 Catholic who has passed the altar, knows to 
 be real and true — I cannot give it, for I have 
 never received it. In the second and last 
 interview I had with Cousin Eula, which 
 was in May, 1881, she affirmed its existence, 
 its horrors, etc. She not only expressed 
 herself as desirous the world should know it, 
 
A Catholic Converted. 195 
 
 but still felt a propelling conscience that she 
 ought to reveal it. But she would not reveal 
 it to me, for she said that for my sake she 
 would not tell me — for my personal safety. 
 Her last words on the subject were, " I would 
 lie down and die at your feet first." 
 
 Bute. And do you repeat it — all for my sake? 
 
 Eala. I do; all, all for your sake. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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