2O4 HAiCiKT 3 AN 3O+ H*i .x H*. **>/ . HELPERS OF THE HOLY BOUL8 350O WEST ADAMS BLVD. LOS ANGELES 16, CAUf . /6->^d j ^i^> JHLPERS OF THE HOLY SOULS 3300 WEST ADAMS BLVD. LOS ANGELES. CALIF. A o S IS IC CD KT FOUNDRESS -rf/E/> J7JSST of Tff STSFERS 2XTBF. 7SJfJTD S 7J?j:JTEZ>T 5 BARCLA7ST JfSWTDSX, 204 >iAi'J*T !r LIFE or MRS. ELIZA A. SETON, FOUNDRESS AND FIRST SUPERIOR or THE Bisters or gaujhto of IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ; WITH COPIOUS EXTRACTS FROM HER WRITINGS, AND AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OP THE SISTERHOOD PROM ITS FOUNDATION TO THE TIME OF HEii DEATH. BY CHARLES I. WHITE, D.D. \\ TO WHICH IS ADDED AN APPENDIX CONTAINING A SUMMARY OF THE HISTORY OP THB SISTERS OF CHARITY TO THE YEAR 1879. "Her children rose up and called her blessed." PHOV. rxxl, 28. TENTH EDITION. P. J. KENEDY AND SONS PUBLISHERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE 3 AND 5 BARCLAY STREET NEW YORK tifcLPBRS OF THE HOLY SOULS MOO WEST ADAMS BLVZX LOS ANGELES, CALIF. TO 0f Cjarits THE UNITED STATES, WHO WALK IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF THEIR IMITATORS OF HER VIRTUES, AND CONTINUATORS OF THE HOLY WORK WHICH SHE COMMENCED Ig BESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BT THE AUTHOR. PEEFAOE TO THE THIRD EDITION. THIS volume originally appeared in the year 1853. It met with such a cordial reception that the first edition was soon exhausted. In compliance with the repeated solicitations of friends, the author revised his work, and omitted some passages for the purpose chiefly of reducing its bulk and bringing it more generally within the reach of purchasers. The second edition, thus improved, was published in 1856, and sold so rapidly that it has been out of print for some time. The demand for the book continues, but the author is no longer here to prepare the third edition. On the 1st of April, 1878, he was called to his reward, leaving behind him the memory of a learned, virtuous and eealous priest. Besides what was in the second edition, the present volume contains, in an appendix, a summary of the history of the Sisters of Charity since the death of the venerated Foundress of the Order, and the general statistics of the Province of the United States for the year 1878. Thus supplemented, the " Life of Mother Seton" is again presented to the public. THE PUBLISHERa FEAST OF THE PURIFICATION. EXTRACT FROM THE PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. IT cannot DC denied that the memory of Mrs. Setun is justly deserving of public record. The eminent qualities with which nature had endowed her, enhanced as they were by study and reflection, her peculiarly religious temperament and strict fidelity in discharging the various duties of social and domestic life, although living amid the distracting and enervating influences of the beau monde, the remarkable circumstance of her conversion to the Catholic faith, in defiance of the most formidable obstacles that could be thrown in the way, lastly, the extraordinary design of Providence, by which she became the institutrix and first superior of a society whose members are now spread over every portion of the United States, for the honor of religion, the instruction of youth, and the relief of suffering humanity, are considerations which appeared long since to require a more extended notice of her than had yet been given to the public. There are few stations in life affording an opportunity for the exercise of female usefulness that she did not adorn by her virtues. In the various relations of daughter, wife, and mother, she may be advantageously proposed as a model. In the ordeal which she was forced to encounter for the successful investigation of religious truth, and in the subsequent practice of the duties which it imposed, she displays an example which may not be unprofitable to those who are engaged in ex- EXTRACT PROM PREFACE. arninmg the doctrines of Catholicism, as well as to those who already believe them. In the third place, her re- nuuciatiou of the world for Christ's sake, and her zealous efforts to form and mature the admirable institution whose benevolent and heavenly influence is now so widely felt, offer a variety of edifying incidents interesting to all who rejoice at the triumphs of Christian faith, but especially to her spiritual daughters, who are the inheritors of her virtue and reap the blessings of her generous piety. The information embodied in this volume relative to Mrs. Seton has been collected altogether from original and cotemporary papers, embracing the autograph letters and other writings of herself and those who corresponded with her, and from the manuscript of verbal statements respecting her and her family, and the Institution of the Sisters of Charity, furnished by numerous individuals who were intimately acquainted with her, and some of whom have witnessed the progress of the society which she founded from its origin to the present day. In the construction of this narrative, I have quoted, whenever it was practicable, Mrs. Seton's own words, in order to render it as much as possible an autobiography, and thus present a more lifelike portraiture of her character. In conclusion, I offer this volume to the public, with the hope that in rescuing from farther oblivion or destruction the memorials of a personage who has rendered such im- portant services to religion and society as Mrs. Seton, I may have contributed in some degree to the stock of useful literature, and done something toward promoting the cause of piety and general edification. These considerations, I trust, will claim for the imperfections of the work th indulgent criticism cf the reader. THE AUTHOR. PJKESVJLLE, MD., November 1, 1862. CONTENTS. BOOK L MM BIRTH and family of Miss Bayley Her mother a death Left to the care of her father Her fLial piety Mental endowments Educa- tion and religious views Habits of self-control Personal ap- pearanceMarriage with Mr. Seton His family Her prospects in life Submission to the decrees of Providence Spiritual re- flection and reading Danger from infidel writings Her cheer- ful disposition Fortitude under trials Her children Mode of training and instructing them Counsels to others Her charity to the poor Devotion at the Lord't Supper On the occasion of a baptism Self-improvement Professional eminence of Dr. Bayley Pleasure in the society of his daughter Their correspond- ence Laborious duties of Dr. Bayley as Health- Officer Mrs. Seton's generous compassion for the poor sick Her devotions Dr. Bayley 's illness Mrs. Seton's offering in his behalf His death and character Religious spirit of Mrs. Seton . . .11 BOOK IL Mr. Seton's ill-health Voyage to Italy, accompanied by his wife and eldest daughter Mrs. Seton's sentiments Her journal- Incidents on arriving at Leghorn Description of the Lazaretto Mrs. Seton's resignation and fortitude The Capitano Mr. Seton grows weaker Quarantine precautions Mrs. Seton's confi- dence in God Comfort to her husband His sufferings The Ca- pitano's religion Sentiments of Mr. Seton Visitors at the Laza- retto Incident of Mrs Seton's youth Reflections Communion with home Attentions to her husband Devotions Journey to Pisa Devotedness of Mrs. Seton Her husband's dispositions His death Energy and fortitude of his wife What strangers thought of her Attentions and sympathy from friends Visit to Florence Impressions 1 BOOK III. Mrs. Seton'a inquiry on the subject of religion Efforts to enlightem her -Her sentiments and impressions Departure for America- - 9 10 CONTENTS. Mi Disappointment and sickness Her admiration of Catholicity Visit to her husband's grave The Messrs. Filicchi Mrs. Seton leaves Italy Sentiments during the voyage Arrival in New York Death of Miss Rebecca Seton Mrs. Seton opposed in her religions views The main point insisted on by Mr. Filicchi Com- bated by Dr. Hobart His abilities and standing Arguments Situation of Mrs. Seton's mind Danger of her faith Efforts of Mr. Anthony Filicchi Consult Bishop Carroll Mrs. Seton's Ul- terior struggles Counsel and instruction of Mr. P. Filicchi Mrs. Seton's trials and sentiments Her resolution Letter of Bishop Carroll The final determination Abjuration of Protest- antism Fervor in approaching the sacraments . . .91 BOOK IV. Mrs. Seton's appreciation of Catholicity Correspondence with Rev. Mr. Cheverus Other clergymen Persecution from her family Her temporal affairs Mr. Filicchi's substantial friendship Her sons placed at college Daily duties Piety and faith Instruc- tions of Rev. Mr. Tisserant Mrs. Seton receives the sacrament of confirmation Messrs. Filicchi and Tisserant embark for Europe Relations between Mr. Filicchi and Mrs. Seton Her de- portment tow.ard Protestants Intercourse between her and Miss Cecilia Seton Conversion of the latter Her heroic faith In- creased opposition to Mrs. Seton Her new friends Example of her sister-in-law and herself Instruction of her children She meets Rev. William Dubourg New plans Confers with Bishop Carroll Views of Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus Remarkable prediction of the former Notice of Mr. Dubourg Difficulties of Mrs. Seton's position in New York She consults Bishop Carroll His advice Another interview with Mr. Dubourg She resolves to commence an institution in Baltimore Plan of Mr. Dubourg . 151 BOOK V. Mrs. Seton embarks for Baltimore Her sentiments during the voyage and on her arrival Her sons removed to St. Mary's College Attentions received by her Happiness in her new situation Letter from Mr. Filicchi She writes to him His generosity Commencement of an academy Exercises of the school Rev. Peter Babade First communion Miss Harriet Seton Mrs. Se- ton's attachment to her and her sisters Piety of Miss Cecilia Beton Correspondence between her and Mrs. Seton's first aaso- CONTENTS. 11 Mi iate Remarkable coincidence Project of a work of charity Mr. Samuel Cooper Purchase of land near Emmettsburg BAT. John Dubois Beginnings of Mt St. Mary's College Prediction of Rev. Mr. Cheverus Mrs. Seton is joined by others Her humility Costume and exercise of the sisters Mrs. Seton binds herself by TOW Name of the society Further accessions Miss Cecilia Seton's sickness and voyage to Baltimore Mother Seton accom- panies her to Emmettsburg Her sister Harriet's conversion . . tit BOOK VL Mother Seton and her companions remove to St Joseph's Valley The conventual house Elements of the sisterhood Design of the institute Its rules First retreat Counsels of the Superior Discipline enforced Employment of the sisters Privations Miss Harriet Seton Her fervent piety and death Sympathy for Mother Seton The community move to a new building School commenced Illness and death of Cecilia Seton Condition of the institution Visit of Bishop Cheverus Rev. John B. David Second retreat Correspondence between Mother Seton and Mr. Filicchi Her gratitude Efforts for the permanency of the house 241 BOOK VH. Colony of Sisters expected from France Their disappointment- Origin and diffusion of the " Daughters of Charity" Object and spirit of the society Government of St Joseph's House Mother Seton's peculiar position She consults Archbishop Carroll Hia advice to her, and approval of the rules Adoption of them by the community Final confirmation Mother Seton's humility First election of officers Costume of the Sisters Increase of the Society Sister Annina Seton Her illness, piety, and death Mother Seton's sentiments 282 BOOK vm. Her. Simon G. Brute becomes the assistant of Mr. Dubois Labo- rious charge of the latter Notice of Mr. Brute 1 Archbishop Car- roll visits the sisterhood Fervor of the community Virtues of Sister Maria Murphy Her illness and death Spirit of poverty at St Joseph's First vows Lessons and example of Mother 8- ton Deaths in the community Sisters Eleanor Thompson, Benedict* Corish, Agnes Duffy, and Catharine Mullen Sister* 12 CONTENTS. MM called to Philadelphia Take charge of an Orphan Asylum in that city Its origin and progress Sisters of Charity in Kentucky Mother Seton's attention to the Academy Her qualifications as a preceptress of female youth Conduct toward the pupils and their parents Wisdom in the formation of character Instructions to young ladies Her manner Mildness in reproof Salutary effect of her instructions ........ Sll BOOK IX. Mother Seton's solicitude for her children Her eldest son embarks in life Her advice to him He leaves America in company with Mr. BrutS His brother Death of Mr. Philip Filicchi Ill- ness of Misu Rebecca Seton Her piety Sentiments of her mother Her lively faith Her death Dispositions of Mother Seton Sympathy of her friends Is re-elected Mother-Superior Three sisters sent to the college at the Mountain Death of Archbishop Carroll His successor Bishop Cheverns visits the sisterhood The sisters incorporated Remarkable death of Mr. Eminett Three sisters sent to New York Return of Mother Seton's son from Europe Enters the navy His former place occupied by hi* brother Bishop Dubourg visits the sisterhood Death of Rev. Mr. Duhamel Duties of Mr. Dnbois Progress of the college and character of its president Mr. BrutS settles at the Mountain Illness of Mother Seton Is elected Mother-Superior for a third term Her counsels to sisters on the Mission Project of building a church House for free-school erected Deaths in the Community 551 BOOK X. Mother Seton's literary taste Her genius and writings Conversa- tional powers Impressiveness and propriety of manner Affec- tion for her children Kindness to all Gratitude Friendship How appreciated Charity to the poor Austerity to herself In- terior trials Combat of self by obedience Conformity to the Di- vine will Spirit of the cross Humility Faith Zeal for the spiritual kingdom Its happy effects Her devotion to the Mother of God Her last illness and sentiments during it Her death and memory .. 381 APPENDIX ...:....... 429 HOTKB . ; 461 THE LIFE or MRS. E. A. SETON. BOOK L Birth and family of Miss Bayley Her mother's death Left to the care of her father Her filial piety Mental endowments Education and religions views Habits of self-control Personal appearance Mar- riage with Mr. Seton His family Her prospects in life Submission to the decrees of Providence Spiritual reflection and reading Danger from infidel writings Her cheerful disposition Fortitude under trials Her children Mode of training and instructing them Coun- sels to others Her charity to the poor Devotion at the Lord't Ship- per On the occasion of a baptism Self-improvement Professional eminence of Dr. Bayley Pleasure in the society of his daughter Their correspondence His laborious duties Mrs. Soton's generous compassion for the poor sick Her devotions Dr. Bayley's illness Mrs. Seton's offering in his behalf His death and character Reli- gious spirit of Mrs. Seton. ELIZA ANN BAYLEY was born in the city of New York, on the 28th of August, 1774, nearly two years before the de- claration of American independence. She was the younger of two daughters, the only children of Dr. Richard Bayley, by his first marriage with Catharine Charlton. Her parents were both Americans by birth, and of respectable standing in society. As the sequel will show, her father was a man jf strong mind and liberal education, and rose by his ge- nius aud industry to an eminent rank in the medical pro- i IS 14 THE LIFE OF fession. (1) Her mother was the daughter of an Episco- palian clergyman, and a sister of Dr. Charlton, a much respected physician of the day. Miss Bayley had not yet completed her third year, when death deprived her of her maternal parent, whose vigilant and affectionate care was BO desirable a protection at that tender age. She suffered this bereavement, however, too early to estimate the extent of her loss; and all her affections as she advanced in life became centred in her father. Upon him devolved en- tirely the guardianship of her youth and the subsequent care of her education duties which engaged his earnest and unceasing attention. Though compelled, by the tender age of his daughter, to depend, in a great measure, on the fidelity of others for the attentions which her situation re- quired, he never ceased to exercise an immediate and watchful superintendence over her welfare, and to evince at all times that affectionate solicitude which, however impera- tively demanded by the absence of maternal care, was pecu- liarly congenial to his elevated and benevolent nature. The political troubles which at this period agitated the country, in its violent struggle for independence, was another con- sideration which tended to strengthen the bond between the parent and the child. Great Britain and the colonies were now at open war with each other, and the city of New York participated largely in the danger and confusion which such events naturally produce. The English troops having en- tered the town in 1776, retained possession of it for the space of seven years; soon after which the political horizon began to wear a brighter aspect. During this period of un- certainty and alarm, and until the cessation of hostilities, when the glorious star of freedom arose upon the American Confederacy, Miss Bayley was almost continually under the eye of her father, and conceived for him all the affection that a child can entertain for a parent. This unbounded MRS. . A. SETON. 15 attachment she manifested in various ways. Frequently, when at school, she would learn her task quickly, repeat it, and then watch a favorable opportunity of eluding the vigi- lance of her preceptress, in order to run down the street to n-eet her father, who passed that way, embrace him, and then hasten back before the old lady could notice her ab- sence. She not only regarded him as her protector, but, with that generous disposition which knows how to appre- ciate a benefit, she repaid his anxiety and kindness with the practice of every virtue that could gratify the paternal heart. Filial piety was the spring of all her actions the incentive to all her exertions. Though incapable of understanding the importance of study at her tender age, she valued her scholastic exercises because prescribed by her father. "French and music must have their hours," said he. This was sufficient to recommend them, and to excite her diligent application. Such was the veneration and affec- tion which she entertained for him, that on no one occasion was she ever known to oppose his will or disobey him in the slightest particular. Nor was this virtue unrewarded by Him who has promised a rich blessing to the dutiful and obedient child. Her future career will exhibit a striking verification of those words in the book of Ecclesiasticus : " Honor thy father in work and word, and all patience, that a blessing may come upon thee from him, and his blessing may remain in the latter end."* With amiable qualities of heart Miss Bayley united talents of a superior order. Nature had endowed her with a quick and comprehensive mind, a sound judgment, and fertile imagination ; and she was not inactive in availing herself of the best opportunities for the cultivation of her mental powers At this time, America offered but slendei * Chap. iii. 6. 16 THE LIFE OP resourced for education in comparison with the facilities which, are now enjoyed. The few seminaries of learning that had been established afforded but a very limited course of instruction, and even these were closed for several years during the stormy period of the Revolution. Under these circumstances, Miss Bayley was compelled to depend prin- cipally upon domestic tuition and study for the acquirement of the knowledge suited to her sex. Happily she possessed, in the abilities of her father, a means of supplying the deficiency in the usual methods of instruction ; and, under his direction, with a natural dispo- sition for self-improvement, she applied herself, with con- siderable success, to the various branches of female educa- tion. Dr. Bayley, in the training of his children, looked much more to the formation of habits which would result in honorable usefulness in after-life, than to attainments of a less solid though more brilliant kind. His penetrating and observant mind easily perceived, as he remarks in one of his letters, that the American youth were naturally given to a spirit of independence, which, impatient of control, must become, for many, a by-way to certain vexation and disap- pointment. Convinced that a "brilliant character is not always a solid character," he diligently impressed upon the minds of those under his charge the necessity of self-re- straint, reflection, and curtailment of pleasure, as the only means, however disagreeable at first, of reaping the sweet fruits of happiness in maturer years. These lessons of wis- dom were carefully reduced to practice by his younger daughter; and to the due and assiduous exercise of self-re- Btraint may be attributed, in a great measure, her subse- quent triumph over the series of trials and difficulties which she had to encounter in pursuing the course marked out for her by divine Providence. Wlule this disposition contributed vastly to preserve her MRS. E. A. 6ETON. 17 mind and heart from the contamination of worldly maxims, it encouraged that inclination to piety which was observable in her from her earliest youth.* Following the example of those around her, she frequented the Protestant Episcopal Church, in which she had been baptized and admitted to what the members of that denomination term the ordinance of confirmation. The religion of Miss Bayley, however, did not partake of that ultra Protestant spirit which rejects every practice that savors in the least of Catholic piety. She wore on her person a small crucifix the emblem of man's redemption and was often heard to express her asto- nishment that this custom was not more prevalent among persons of her own communion. Bigotry and prejudice seem to have found no admittance into her mind. Con- scientiously attached to her own religious views, she knew how to respect the convictions of hei neighbor, and even to admire among them the existence of certain institutions which were unknown among the professors of her own par- ticular creed. f One of the principal occupations that afforded her pleasure was the reading of the Holy Scrip- * When we speak of the piety or religions spirit of Miss Bayley, wt mean simply that she was a devout worshipper of God according to her views of religion ; but we do not pretend to say whether, or how far, hei interior dispositions were acceptable to him. Though piety, in the pro- per acceptation of the term, can be found, in its full and explicit form, only among those who belong to the external communion of the Church, it is not impossible for it to exist implicitly, in some cases, out of that external communion; for instance, among young persons who, though born of heterodox parents, hare been validly baptized, and have nevei renounced the disposition then received to be governed by the teaching of their legitimate pastors. See Catholic theologians pattim. f In the course of her reading she occnsionally met with descriptions of convents, and regretted that such establishments were not to be found among Protestant 1 ;. It is a curious fact, that the early admiration of thii youthful Episcopalian for the conventual life resulted in her becoming herself, at a later period, the foundress of a similar institution. 2* tt 18 THE LIFE OF tures. From the sublime instructions imparted by the gacred penmen, she derived the most salutary knowledge for the regulation of her sentiments and actions. The papers which she has left afford ample evidence that she took delight in transcribing comments and reflections upt n different portions of the sacred volume, and that she had become familiar with its contents, especially the Book of Psalms. The fervent effusions of the inspired bard were peculiarly congenial to her naturally ardent temperament; and she frequently quoted passages from them in her letters and other writings. To this practice, and to her natural rectitude and strength of mind, we may attribute the re- markable self-control which she exhibited in her intercourse with society. Surrounded by all the charms of gay and fashionable life, Miss Bayley did not allow herself to be dazzled by brilliant appearances. From a written exposi- tion of her thoughts and dispositions, rs they manifested themselves to her on a Sunday evening, when she reviewed the manner in which the day had been passed, it is plain that she scrutinized her actions with a singular penetration, and according to a standard of excellence which is rarely held in view by young ladies who possess every facility for mingling in the amusements and dissipation of the world. After tracing the vagaries of her mind during the course of the day, and the distractions which she had met with at her devotions, which were partly caused by the attentions of a gentleman who at that time had a prospect of her hand in marriage, she examines in what manner her time should have been distributed; reflecting that she might have turned it to greater profit, if it had been devoted more particularly to retirement and prayer. " The consequence would have been," she adds, "I would have been pleased with myself; M would have been pleased with me; even they to whom the sacrifice was made would have liked MBS. E. A. SETON. 19 me better; and, the heavenly consideration, my God would have blessed me." We shall furnish another extract from this self-examina- tion, written at the age of eighteen, which will show how much importance she attached to the proper disciplining of her mind and actions, not merely with a view to follow the dictates of reason, but from motives of religion. Consider ing that she possessed a very lively disposition, we shall be inclined to think that the imperfection of which she speaks was comparatively of little moment, though she deemed it worthy of serious attention. "There is a certain temper I am sometimes subject to it is not sullen ness or absolute discontent, 'tis a kind of melancholy; still, I like it better than those effusions of cheerfulness, that hilarity of spirits, which a good night's rest and a fine morning often inspire. I prefer the sadness, because I know it may be removed ; it may change to cheerfulness. The gayety, I am sure, will change to sadness before the day ends, and perhaps to sor- row; 'tis not the natural temper, but the influence of situa- tion. I trust the day will come when I may show a more regular and Christian disposition. Perhaps it may ; it may not. Those passions must be governed. I have a most un- accountable wish to see E this morning, but I will not go a step out of my way. If fortune should so direct, 1 think I should be very grateful ; if not, I will try and think that 'tis best/* With this command over herself, and a constant eye t the cultivation of the most elevated principles of conduct, Miss Bayley had shielded herself effectually against a dan- ger which is too often incurred before its consequences are foreseen, that of forming injudiciously a matrimonial alli- ance. A matter bearing so closely upon her happiness, and involving so much responsibility, received from her virtuoui and penetrating mind all the consideration which it merited 20 THE LIFE 0V On the other hand, the excellence of character which sh aimed at could not fail to be appreciated by virtuous and discerning minds, and to aid materially in effecting a union which would contribute to her earthly happiness. In hei personal appearance, Miss Bayley was of rather low sta- ture, but her figure was well proportioned and her move- ments graceful. A perfect symmetry was displayed in her features, which, with the sparkling yet mild expression of her eye, rendered her countenance the mirror of a noble and intelligent soul. Possessing an uncommon degree of vivacity and cheerfulness, she used it with tact and modera- tion, for the charm of those around her. In the twentieth year of her age, she accepted the hand of Mr. William Seton, a highly respectable merchant in the city of New York. He was a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and a gentleman of amiable disposition and en- gaging manners. His family enjoyed the highest character and standing. 00 A portion of his early life he had spent in a mercantile house at Leghorn a circumstance which the subsequent history of his wife will show to have been a dis- pensation of divine Providence for the spiritual benefit of herself, her family, and the innumerable souls who would be led by her example into the way of salvation. At this period, however, she little imagined that her religious views would ever be exchanged for the doctrines of the Cathclic Church. Her early education, and the recent connection she had formed with a strictly Episcopalian family, both wedded her to the Protestant system, and it may be truly said that she was a rigid observer of its principles and forms. At the time of her marriage, Mrs. Seton beheld a prospect of the most flattering description before her. Her husband's affairs were in a flourishing condition, and, surrounded as ghe was by a numerous circle of admiring friends, she had MRS E. A. S ETON. 21 reason to expect, from the new alliance she had formed, every temporal happiness that can be realized on this side of the grave. Divine Providence, however, did not permit her to be dazzled by the fair scenes of enjoyment around her. The ordeal which he had in reserve for her at a later period of life demanded a thorough training of her mind and heart, and could be met successfully only by one who had learned the practice of patience and resignation under the trying dispensations of Heaven, and had the moral energy to set aside the vain considerations of this earth whenever conflicting with the higher interests of an immortal life. We accordingly find her on all occasions deeply impressed with the truth of an all-wise and over- ruling Providence, and possessing a lively sense of the duty of submission to the afflictions of life. The first year of her marriage, in the summer of 1794, Mr. Seton's business having called him to Philadelphia, where the yellow fever had made its appearance, she writes to him in a strain of affectionate solicitude, not a little increased by the appre- hension of the danger to which he was exposed ; but her fears do not degenerate into excess; she moderates them, and sustains her fortitude by the reflection that " patience and submission are the only way to gain the blessings of Heaven." In a letter to one of her relations, to whom she was united by the closest ties of friendship, she furnishes another evidence of the supernatural view which she was accustomed to take of passing occurrences, while she ex- hibits, at the same time, the self-control and wisdom which she exercised in the correspondence with her friends. "I received your letter of the 22d September. Although 1 make it a rule never to answer letters while under the in- fluence of the first impressions I receive from them, I can- not refrain from immediately replying to it and it is not a very easy task to preserve my usual sincerity with you ; but 22 THE LIFE OF I believe even that is best, for my mitl is in a state of anxiety and distress which does not admit of any calcula- tions respecting the enjoyments of this life. In one short week, sisters, friends, and the whole world, may be nothing to me. There neyer passes a day but some family is de- prived of its support, children of their parents, and the wife of her husband, even in the number of my acquaint- ance. My William goes every day to town,* and is mora exposed than many who have lost their lives; that he should escape depends on that mercy which has never yet failed, and which I have reason to bless every hour of my life." On another occasion, addressing the same friend, whose society she loved to enjoy, she displayed a spirit of faith and resignation which is seldom witnessed in the rn- tercourse of persons blessed with every worldly comfort. She observes, "We are not always to have what we like best in this world, thank Heaven ! for, if we had, how soon we should forget the other, the place of endless peace, where they who were united by virtue and affection here will surely enjoy that union so often interrupted while on their journey home !" The expression of those sentiments was not a casual thing with Mrs. Seton, or the effect of circumstances that awakened in her bosom an occasional outburst of reli- gious feeling; it was at all times the image of her mind and heart, the result of an habitual attention to the cultiva- tion of the highest principles of moral conduct. Hers waa one of those favored souls that are borne up by their own natural impulses to the love and pursuit of what is right; and this disposition, aided by study and reflection, gave to her sentiments and aspirations a tone of uncommon purity and virtue, which manifested itself in all her writings. Her * She writes from Craigdon, a seat in the country, October, 1799, the yellow fever prevailing at the time in New York City and causing th* ravages which she describes. MRS. E. A. SETOIf. 2fc nhid was of a superior order, but it was not less prone it the indulgence of pious meditation than it was active and intelligent. Those hours which she could snatch from hei domestic and social duties were frequently employed in com- muning with God, in the perusal of the Holy Scripture*, and in meditating upon the sublime truths of the Christiac religion. Hence her invariable practice of throwing inU her letters and notes some allusion to the great maxims ol svangelical morality. If she adverted to the prosperous and joyful scenes of life, they caused her heart to expanu in gratitude, and reminded her of more perfect and more lasting enjoyments in a future world. If adversity was the theme of her remarks, it turned her tLougnts upon the onlj true remedy of earthly trials, the happy exchange of tran- sient suffering for eternal felicity. The following extract from her devotions, in the year 1798, may serve as a speci- men of the prayers which she addressed to God : "Almighty Giver of all mercies! Father of all, who knowest my heart and pitiest its weakness and errors, thou knowest the desire of my soul is to do thy will ; it struggles to wing its flight to thee, its Creator, and sinks again in sorrow for that imperfection which draws it back again to earth. How long shall I contend with sin and mortality ? When will that hour arrive which will free the troubled spirit from its prison, and change the shadows of this life for immortality and endless happiness ? I bow to thee, my God ! in cheerful hope that, confiding in thy infinite mercy and assisted by thy powerful grace, I shall soon arrive to that hour of unspeakable joy. But if it is thy will the spirit shall yet contend with its dust, assist me to conduct myself through this life as not to render it an enemy, but a conductor to that happy state where all mortal contentions are done away, and where thy eternal presence will bestow eternal felicity." 24 THE LIFTS OF In the subjoined prayer she pours forth her gratitude U God for the protection vouchsafed to her and hers while so many others were carried off by the stroke of death. She most probably alludes to the ravages of the yellow fever. The noblest return is made for the favors of Heaven, in an increased determination to walk in the path of the divine commandments. " With pity, Lord, look down upon thy servant. Thy mercy is boundless; thou hast preserved our souls from death while thousands fall around us. Thou hast given us every good while others are visited with sorrows and afflic- tions ; and shall not my soul praise thee for this unmerited goodness ? Shall it now fall into sin and neglect of thee, its preserver? Will it rather suffer the bondage of sin than be thy servant? Oh, how it pants, it longs to fit itself for thy acceptance; but, chained in the service of the enemy, it falls from its native glory and grovels in the dust. Let thy mercy assist the endeavor of thy servant; grant but the smallest portion of thy grace, and I shall be free. Almighty Father! Blessed Spirit, comforter of thg sick and sorrowing soul ! Saviour eternal, Redeemer of sinners, who gavest thy life to save us, assist a miserable sinner who strives with corruption of sin, and desires above all things to break the snares of the enemy. I am, Lord ! like one in the net of the fowler ; set me now at liberty ; cleanse me and fit me for thy presence, and the soul that now sorrows shall rejoice." Mrs. Seton had so assiduously cultivated the sentiments contained in the foregoing addresses to the Throne of Grace, that she seems never to have laid them aside for other con- victions, though it must be admitted that her Christian principles were at one time much exposed to be shaken by the familiar acquaintance which she had formed with the works of the French philosopher, Jean Jacques Rousseau MRS. E. A. 8 ETON. 25 In the year 1799 she became so enamored of bis writings, that, as she expresses it herself, every half hour she could catch went to Emilius. She was particularly pleased with his religious views. Voltaire's writings were also partially known to her; and it may be safely affirmed that without the special protection of divine Providence her mind would have become deeply infected with the fatal errors of those pestilential authors, who insinuate the poison of irreligion with a brilliancy of thought and charm of language that have too often unhappily seduced the incautious reader. But Mrs. Seton's admiration of Rousseau appears to have extended chiefly, if not altogether, to those parts of his works which pay a forced but not less eloquent tribute to revealed truth. At all events, if her religious views were in any degree affected by the withering opinions of infi- delity, she must have remained in this state of mind for a very short time ; as her writings, subsequent to the period of which we speak, breathe a spirit of Christian piety equal to, if not more fervent than, that of her previous life. On the 31st of December, in the same year, we find her in- dulging in a religious meditation, of which she has left us a succinct but beautiful account. She thus describes tha situation of her body and mind on the last day of the ex- piring year : " Sitting on a little bench before the fire, the head resting on the hand, the body perfectly easy, the eyes closed, the mind serene, contemplating and tracing bound- less mercy and the source of all excellence and perfection how pure the enjoyment, and sweet the transition of every thought ! The soul expands, all earthly interests re- cede, and heavenly hopes become anxious wishes. Might lot these mortal bonds be gently severed loosed more .a^ily than untying the fastening of a fine thread at this moment, without any perceptible change, to find the soul at liberty. Heavenly Mercy! in thy presence? And would it 26 THE LIFE Of not tremble, or rather is it not forevei inder thy tnspeo tion ? Can it be concealed from thee ? No ; thou now perceivest it oppressed, weighed, sinking under its mortal burden ; and also thou seest it can patiently submit to thy will, adoring in surest confidence of thy mercy. Preserve me but this heavenly peace ; continue to me this privilege, beyond all mortal computation, of resting in thee and ado'r. ing thee, my Father, Friend, and never-failing support. For this alone I implore : let all other concerns, with their con- sequences, be entirely and wholly submitted to thee."* It might be supposed, from the religious tone which Mrs. Seton introduced into her letters, that she had fallen into the use of that disagreeable cant and rigid formalism that ilmost invariably distinguish the devotee who is not enlight- ened by the true faith. This, however, was far from being the case. The religion of Mrs. Seton was not of an obtru- sive or sullen nature. Possessing a singular vivacity of dis- position, and an equal sense of propriety, she knew how to accommodate herself to circumstances. If, on suitable occa- sions, in corresponding with her friends, she deemed it ad- visable to indulge a strain of serious thought, or to mingle with commonplace matters a well-turned allusion to maxima of moral guidance, at other times she pursued a different course, adopting the vein of humor to which she was par- ticularly inclined. She thus writes to her father, who was at Albany, in February, 1799 : " Should you be, in your re- tirement, unoccupied by the cares and solicitudes that gene- rally accompany you, a letter from your daughter will be very acceptable; if otherwise, it will be read in haste, and the idea, ' Bett is a goose/ will pass your mind. I send it to take its chance, hoping, as the children say, it may find * In looking over this manuscript, after she had become a Catholic when her piety was the result of better light and knowledge, she ex claimed, "Oh, bow different now ! Ob, praise and eternal gratitid* MRS. E. A 8 ETON. 27 you well, aa I am the same. It is currently reported that yor are gone to New London to inquire into the origin of the fever, and that you are to proceed to Boston to see your children. But I hope you will very soon return, and con- vince tin ladies who chatter on the subject that the origin i0 not the object of your pursuit, but the remedy." Some months later, she addresses her father in the fol- lowing language, which exhibits the sprightliness of her dis- position, and, ai 1 the same time, establishes her claim to con- siderable merit in the epistolary style : " My very dear Mr. Monitor: That you are in the enjoyment of health in the midst of dangers, toil', and death, is a subject of high exul- tation to me ; and if the prayers of a good, quiet little female are supposed to be of any avail, it will be long continued to you, with the hope that the visual rays of our fellow-citizens will in time be brightened by your labors, and their atten- tion awakened by the voice of tmth and conscience. I had the pleasure to hear a Mr. Delmas, a French physician, re- fer a number of strangers, both French and English, to a publication, called the Monitor,* as the best thing written on the subject of yellow fever, and a& the only one that points out its true cause and origin. He said he did not know who was the author, but he must be the best friend of humanity, and should be considered by the Americans as their best adviser. I imagine my eyes were krger and blacker at that moment than usual. If you would some- times direct Helen's f pen to Bloomingdale, it would be a most grateful substitute for your own, which I cannot ex- pect to claim in this season of occupation." The cheerfulness of Mrs. Seton's disposition, united witl a profoundly religious sentiment, contributed much to sup * Written by Dr. Baylcy, father of Mrs. Seton. For this rsason ih Addresses him at the commencement of this letter aa " Mr. Monitor " f A step-sister of Mrs. Seton. 28 THE LIFE OF port her under the trials which are the general attendant* of domestic life, as well as those which may be termed the particular dispensations of Providence. About the begin- ning of the year 1800, her husband's temporal affairs had be- come very much embarrassed, owing to the French spolia- tions and the usual vicissitudes of mercantile life, and it seemed as if the tide of prosperity was soon to stop for him and his family. In the midst of these difficulties Mrs. Seton proved herself the devoted wife, by sharing the trials of her husband and exerting herself as far as she could to dimi- nish the unhappy influence which such a situation is apt to exercise upon the mind. During an entire week, she spent most of the night in assisting her husband in arranging his papers. But the fortitude and resignation which she evinced under this dispensation of Providence are equally worthy of remark. She observed to a friend that it would never do for hearts and fortunes to sink together. When things had as- sumed the most unfavorable aspect, and one loss appeared only to be the harbinger of additional misfortunes, she knew how to possess her soul in patience and to trust in Him who directs all the events of life for the wisest ends. She did not suffer her mind to dwell on these topics, so far as they tended to disturb the peace of her soul, for she always found a source of consolation in the sentiments awakened by the practice of the Christian virtues. She thus speaks, in a let- ter to her sister-in-law, of Mr. Seton's difficulties : " How I wish I could write you a long letter, without saying one word of affairs, for in their present state they are too melan- choly to think about, and that not from any impression I have received from my William, for never did a mortal beai misfortune and all the aggravated distress of it with 30 much firmness and patience as he does. I say aggravated, for ves- sel after vessel arrives, and correspondents in London and Hamburg notify him that his bills are refused, and his pro- MRS. E. A. SETON. 29 perty detained there, and not one line of explanation eithei good or bad; and here we are, with funds detained on one side the water and transferred the other, for he is obliged tc make over every thing in trust to his friends, nothing coming in, and one suit already against him gives but too much reason to expect more; but it is all in vain to thini about it : patience is the only choice." The following prayer, which seems to relate to the same embarrassments, shows the strength of mind which she ex- hibited under the trials of her situation : "The cup that our Father has given us, shall we not drink it? blessed Sa- viour ! by the bitterness of thy pains we may estimate the force of thy love : we are sure of thy kindness and compas- sion : thou wouldst not willingly call on us to suffer : thou hast declared unto us that all things shall work together for our good, if we are faithful to thee, and therefore, if thou so ordainest it, welcome disappointment and poverty, welcome sickness and pain, welcome even shame and contempt and calumny. If this be a rough and thorny path, it is one which thou hast gone before us. Where we see thy foot- steps, we cannot repine. Meanwhile, thou wilt support us with the consolation of thy grace, and even here thou canst more than compensate us for any temporal sufferings, by the possession of that peace which the world can neither give nor take away." July 25, 1801. While Mrs. Seton bowed with an humble submission to the trials she experienced, she did not neglect to turn the thoughts of her husband upon objects of greater moment than the things of this world. In a letter to him, after alluding to his business, she adds: " Excuse your saucy wife, who is too busy with your mer- cantile affairs. If I could have an influence in those I am really anxiously interested in, which relate to another cause, [ should be too happy ever to vex you with what are the trifles of a day in comparison " 3 80 THE LIFE 0? They who have ever felt the pressure of adversity wiL readily understand the happiness of a family that possessed a guiding spirit like Mrs. Seton, whose words were invariably those of comfort, and who never failed to discover in the higher considerations of religious truth a solace and com- pensation for the passing evils of life. In this way the burden of affliction was lightened, and every bosom became animated with brighter hopes. At the period of which we are speaking, Mrs. Seton was the mother of four children : Anna Maria, William, Richard, and Catharine Josephine. In the midst of this infant group, which presented to the parent's eye all that the fondest affection could desire, she found opportunities of exercising virtues which are equally essential and ornamental in the domestic circle. No love could exceed that of Mrs. Seton for the children whom Providence had confided to her care j but it was a love elevated and enhanced by the reflection that they constituted an important charge, for which she would be accountable to God. Hence, while she carefully watched over their temporal welfare, she was still more soli- citous for the formation of their minds and hearts to the knowledge and esteem of virtuous principles. Not only did she teach their youthful lips to praise God and invoke his blessings; she availed herself of every opportunity to impress upon them this obligation, as well as the other duties of which they were capable. Sometimes she would send them little notes, in which the assurance of maternal affection would invariably be mingled with the words of salutary in- struction, but conveyed in a form at once so natural and at- tractive that they could not fail to produce a most happy and lasting impression. Her tact in this respect was remarkable. In a note to her two boys on a certain occasion, after ex- pressing her fond attachment for them, she wins them still more to her bosom, and to a regard for her wishes, by re MRS. . A. SETOX. 31 joicing at the good news she has heard of them respecting their correct deportment and their attention to school ; and, after having thus secured their favorable disposition to re- ceive advice, she exhorts them to perseverance in good, to pray for their parents, to obey their superiors, and lastly urges them to the performance of their duties by proposing the highest motives of conduct, the prospect of enjoying the good-will of their parents and obtaining the blessing of the Almighty. On the birthday of her eldest daughter, she thus addresses her : " MY DEAR ANNA MARIA : " This is your birthday, the day that 1 first held you in my arms. May God Almighty bless you, my child, and make you his child forever. Your mother's soul prays to him to lead you through this world, so that we may come to his heavenly kingdom in peace, through the merits of our blessed Saviour. "May 3, 1803." No opportunity was neglected of imparting to her offspring the knowledge and the fear of God. The subjoined letter will show the ardent desire of Mrs. Seton for their virtuous training, as well as her peculiar skill in explaining to them the morality of the gospel : " My dearest Anna must remember that our blessed Lord ^ave us the parable of the wise and foolish virgins to make us careful to choose our part with the wise ones, and to keep in readiness for his coming, which will be in an hour we know not of; and should he find us, dear child, out of the road of our duty, like sheep gone astray from their shepherd, where shall we hide from his presence who can see through the darkest shades and bring us from the farthest ends of 32 THE LIFE Of the world? If we would please him, and be found among hia children, we must learn what our duty is, pray to him for grace to do it, and then set our whole heart and soul to perform it. And what is your duty, my dear child? You know it, and I pray God to keep you in it, that, in that blessed day when he shall come to call us to our heavenly home, we may see our dear Anna in the number of those dear children to whom he will say, ' Come, yc blessed of my Father/ Your own dear Mother." From what has been said, we may readily infer that the affection of Mrs. Seton for her children, although ardent, was of that pure and elevated character which never allowed it to degenerate into weak condescension. Convinced of what the wise man teaches, that " the rod and reproof give wisdom, but the child that is left to his own will bringeth his mother to shame,"* she did not fail in the important duty of correction, whenever circumstances seemed to re- quire it. But this duty on her part was not the effect of excitement, which too often governs the parent on such oc- casions and destroys the efficacy of reproof. It was the dictate of reason and religion, which aimed only at the re- formation of evil, and adopted the most effectual measures for the attainment of this end. From one of her letters to her sister-in-law, we learn a circumstance which indicates no ordinary degree of wisdom in the mother of a family. "1 was busy," she says, "with poor Anna, in the garret closet, and afterward took her to the highest step of the ladder that leads to the top of the house, to make her feel that the promise she made to be good was before God, who knows all we say and do." Her experience had taught her that a solemn thought is greatly heightened by viewing th Prov. xxix. 15. MRS. . A. 8ETON. 33 heavens m open space without an intervening object. Bj such means did the lessons of truth sink deeply into the hearts of her children, and strengthen, from day to day, their love and veneration for a parent who was so devoted to their real happiness. Virtue, firm and enlightened as hers, could not but spread ite perfume on every side. All within the sphere of her ac- quaintance felt its beneficial influence, while to some she was even a mother and instructress. She thus writes to one of her youthful relatives : " Let your chief study be to ac- quaint yourself with God, because there is nothing greater than God, and because it is the only knowledge that can fill the heart with a peace and joy which nothing can disturb. Father of all beings, how extensive are thy mercies ! how great, how inexpressible ! It is in thee we live, and move, and have our being. The lot of mortals is in thy hand; they are only happy through thee. Thy paternal cares are over all mankind. Thy impartial goodness causes the sun to shine and constant blessings to descend on those even who offend and disobey thee. By thy command the dew refreshes the earth and the zephyr cools and revives us; thy gifts are pro- portioned to the wants of thy creatures, but the righteous alone feel the sweet and salutary effects of thy peace. thou who possessest sovereign power, and givest life and enjoy ment to the poorest insect, which could not exist a moment but by thy will, permit thy creature to praise and bless thee, and let me forever adore thy goodness and give my soul to thy service. Blessed Saviour, who gavest thy life for us, and hast done every thing to engage our love and gratitude, oh let me never be so unhappy as to offend or disobey thee wilfully. Blessed Shepherd of them that seek thee, oh keep me in thy fold lead me iu thy paths; let me always hear and love thy voice, and follow thee as a meek and quiet lamb, making it the care of my life to keep near to mf 34 THE LIFE OF blessed Master; and if ever I should lose my way, or for moment be so unhappy as to disobey thy commands, oh, call thy wanderer home." She furnished the same individual with a method of morn- ing and evening prayer. In the former, thanks are returned to God for the favors of the night, and his blessing is im- plored for the day; in the latter, the graces of Heaven are again acknowledged, and the divine mercy invoked upon herself, her friends, and relations. One of her sisters-in-law, having received some prayers from her on her birthday, which were sent by Mrs. Seton as a friendly counsel to prepare herself for a h&ppy death, seemed to misunderstand the act of kindness, imagining that it required her to indulge in a train of melancholy thought. Mrs. Seton very justly remarked to her that these reflections tended to tranquillize the mind of a Christian. " Should we make a practice," she says, " of considering, with calm and dispassionate meditation, that that hour must come to all, whether they reflect or not its uncertainty with respect to time the pains, weakness, and often extreme anguish our parting nature must experience, and, what is still worse, the possibility that we may be summoned without any warn- ing at all, it would be taking no more precaution than we would allow to the commonest events of life, if we were to allow our souls a few minutes every day, to beg for mercy and grace in that momentous hour. ... I have observed that any good resolutions or exercises begun on the period of our birth are more seriously impressed; and I chose thij fcr you at this time, as reflecting on a birthday on earth more easily transfers our thoughts to the birthday of our future existence; and it is very useful to make use of that day, from year to year, to examine our soul's account in full on the progress we have made in approaching that heavenly example of perfection," &c. This extract from Mrs. Seton ' MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 35 letters displays a degree of wisdom rarely met with in the world, and shows how she availed herself of certain occasions to diffuse among others that virtue which she practised her- self In the following advice to another relative we have an equally remarkable instance of the store she set upon firmness of principle. She tells her " not to leave home, on tny persuasion, on Sacrament Sunday, and to say openly, whoever may request it, ' that it is her rule.' It can never," ehe continues, " be a breach of civility, or seem unkind, even to a sister or the dearest friend, if you say it with the firmness of one who has been at His table who refreshes and strengthens the soul in well-doing. I have often asked my- self the question, why should any one be more earnest in prevailing with me for a trifle, or a thing of no consequence in itself, than 7 in maintaining the thing I know to be right and that touches the interest of my soul's peace '!" Such was her unflinching adherence to rules of moral guidance, which she could the more confidently recommend to others as she observed it faithfully herself. Mrs. Seton did not confine her charity to the administer- ing of good advice ; she went abroad to dispense comfort and relief among the victims of misfortune. She was an active uember of the " Widows' Society in New York," the bene- volent object of which is indicated by its name; and such was her devotedness to the service of the poor, that she and one of her relatives, who was commonly associated with her on errands of mercy, were called Protestant Sisters of Cha- rity. They not only visited those who were in want, but labored with their hands to increase their means of render- ing assistance. Her benevolent efforts in behalf of the afflicted are thus described by one who was intimately ac quainted with her at the time : " Not satisfied with a for mal profession without the love of Gk>d in her soul, she con- lidered DO sacrifice too great to promote the glory of her 36 THE LIFE Of heavenly Parent, and add to the felicity and happiness of her fellow-creatures. How often and with what delight hai she explored the abodes of wretchedness, to administer tern- poral and spiritual comfort! How many tears of joy has she caused to flow! How many prayers have been raised to Heaven for her welfare ! How often have the widow and the fatherless blessed her !" A strict member of the Episcopal Church, she united in the ceremony of the Lord's Supper, as it is called, as often as she had an opportunity, and with an ardor and enthusiasm not frequently witnessed among Protestants. She thus de- scribes the sentiments with which she communicated at the bedside of a dying friend, Sept. 13, 1802 : " Was called on by a sufferer, to help her in preparing her soul, which seemed on the point of departure to answer the call of its Creator. Her body, which had been long in the struggles of nature, now relieved from pain, had the foretaste of its rest, and left her soul at liberty to seek the strength of the Redeemer, and to desire the refreshment he has provided for sick and troubled spirits. These hands prepared the blessed table, while my soul and that of my soul's sister united with hers in joyful praise for our precious privilege the purchase of redeeming love. The chosen, blessed, minis- tering servant bids us to the feast, gives it to the depart* ing soul as its passport to its home to me as the seal of that covenant which I trust will not be broken in life nor in death, in time nor eternity. Sweet, sweet communion of souls! Gracious Lord, may it be endless as thy mercy 1 may it be perfected in thee, sustained in thy truth, and sanctified by thy Spirit, that, growing in thy likeness and raised up in thine image, we shall be one with thee eter- nally !" Alluding to the same circumstance, she says : " Thia day, I trust, is noted for me in the book of life, and oh that the blessings received, and the precious privileges I have MRS. E. A. SETON. 87 enjoyed in it, may be the incitement to a faithful discharge, through divine grace, of every duty which my dear and gra- cious Master may give me to perform, that it may make me his own, in thought, word, and deed, forever leading me to the Supreme Good the blessing of losing myself and aD things in him." It is related of Mrs. 'Seton, that such waa the profound awe awakened in her by the communion, that in receiving it her teeth clattered against the cup which contained the elements. Her whole mind was intently riveted upon the act she was performing, endeavoring to think of our Saviour's presence. Such was her fervor in complying with this rite, that after the service she would obtain from the sexton a further portion of the elements, and even go from one church to another, in order to repeat this religious act. She envied the happiness of the Catholic who believed in a real presence. The rite of baptism also inspired her with an extraordinary devotion. Her fifth child, born on the 20th of August, 1802, was presented at the regenerating font on the feast of St. Michael, and re- ceived the name of Rebecca. On the same day, Mrs. Seton committed to paper the sentiments that arose in her mind on the occasion, and we place them before the reader as a model for the Christian parent. " Wednesday, St. Michael?* day, 1802. This day my little Rebecca is received into the ark of our Lord. Sh has been blessed by the prayer of faith, that she may re- ceive the fulness of his grace, and remain in the number of his faithful children; that, being steadfast in faith, joyful through hope, and rooted in charity, she may pass through the waves of this troublesome world, that finally she may enter the land of everlasting life. Glory! glory! glory be to Hiiu, who lias obtained for his servant these inestimable privileges to enter into covenant with him to commune 4 88 THE LIFE Of with his Spirit to receive the blessing of our reconciled Father inheritors in his kingdom of blessedness. Blessed Lord, can we be forgetful of our duty to thee to thee who hast purchased all for us? Oh strengthen us, pity our weakness, be merciful to us, and, as thy holy angels always do thee service in heaven, give us grace to serve thee so faithfully while on earth that we may hereafter be received into their blessed society, and join their everlasting alle- luiahg in thy eternal kingdom. Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing. Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might, be unto our Grod forever and ever. Amen." The letters and other writings of Mrs. Seton afford many other evidences of the zeal with which she pursued the re- ligion in which she had been educated; but we have said enough to render it unquestionable that she was a fervent and practical advocate of piety, according to her own under- standing of the subject, and inculcated both by word and example those high principles of morality which made her a shining member of the church to which she belonged and a bright ornament in the social and domestic circle. To ac- quire this character was the object which she continually proposed to herself; and we cannot better describe than in her own words the efforts which she made to improve her- self in all the qualities that constitute an honorable charac- ter and useful life. In a letter to a distant friend, she says " Nor can I ever lament the season of youth, for that of middle age is much more desirable, and lasts much longer, particularly if it prepares the way to honorable old age, and accumulates such materials as will make that happy All my leisure hours have that aim; and if the point anticipated MRS. . A. SETON. 89 u never reached, it certainly fulfils the present momenta tc the best advantage, and if their memory remains, it will be a source of the greatest pleasure." The preceding part of Mrs. Seton's history embraces particularly those facts which exhibit her personal worth aa a wife, the mother of a family, and a member of society in general; but the close relations which she continued to maintain with her father, and the virtues which they called into action, are worthy of special remark, inasmuch as they contribute more fully to the portrayal of her character. The private worth and professional distinction of Dr. Bay- ley concurred to merit for him the warmest affection and profoundest respect of his children, while the valuable services which he rendered to the cause of science and humanity won for him a deserved celebrity in Europe as well as in America. Having completed his studies in England, he commenced the practice of medicine in New York, and soon acquired distinction by his successful treatment of diseases and his skill in surgery. He was the first to discover the inflam- matory nature of the croup, on which he published a work, was a member of the Medical Faculty of Columbia Col- lege from its commencement, and was one of the earlier promoters of the New York Dispensary. Having devoted particular attention to the investigation of yellow fever and its causes, during repeated ravages of this fearful scourge, he wrote a work on the subject, which is distinguished for its practical and sound observations. Appointed health- physician to the port of New York, he became chiefly in- strumental in procuring the enactment of the state quaran- tine laws, and successfully contributed to obtain similar regulations from the general government.* * For other details respecting Dr. Bayley, see Thacher's America* Medical Biography. 40 THE LIFE 0? While Dr Bayley was pursuing a profession which, with his energetic mind and active habits, subjected him to the most arduous labors and exposed his life to the most immi- nent danger, he found some relief from his daily toils in the affectionate regard and accomplished society of hia daughter. He had impressed upon the minds of his chil- dren, from their earliest youth, that the happiness of theii father depended upon them; and the lesson was acted upon to his entire satisfaction by Mrs. Seton. We have seen how fondly she was attached to him in childhood. At a later period, when his occupations became more arduous and in- cessant, it was her constant aim to please him by evidences of filial attachment. Although he had married a second time a circumstance often resulting in the disturbance of the harmonious relations between parent and child she lost nothing of that fond affection which she had always enter- tained for him. In this she only corresponded to the ten- der love and solicitude which he evinced for her. Writing to her a short time before her marriage, he says : " Solicit- ous always, and on all occasions, to hear from you or to correspond with you, you find I do not omit any opportunity to promote that pleasure. Most of us are tinctured with a little of the selfish yours is of that kind that you corre- spond chiefly with yourself. Now, I approve of that mode of correspondence, if you add a new stock of information and useful knowledge to your former acquisitions. In thia case you have my permission to persevere. In such a case, and in all instances, believe me your affectionate friend and father." Whether at home or abroad, Dr. Bayley possessed in the devotedness of his daughter a source of unmingled pleasure and most grateful relaxation. His humane and indefatiga- ble attentions to the victims of disease were interrupted daring the day only to seek a brief repose near the piana MRS. E. A. 3ETON. 41 where she presided with skilful hand; and when absent from home, in the prosecution of professional business, he wa delighted with the intercourse which her letters enabled him to enjoy. The following extracts from their correspondence will show the affectionate regard, frankness of heart, and playful spirit, which contributed so much to the mutual gra- tification of the parent and the child. Suffering from in- disposition, he thus writes to her at the commencement of the year : " I must smile, although I cannot swallow but with difficulty. Confinement is so unusual a thing for me, that the novelty affords me the most solid satisfaction. No bustle no feeling of pulses no scolding nor being scolded at thus retired as it were within myself, I have neither care, thought, or wish not even to see you. Now, let us see how the matter stands. Suppose me entering your room, exclaiming, ' My dear daughter, I wish you a happy new year ; Seton, how are you ? I wish you a happy year.' * Thank you, sir; I wish you a great many.' I assert, the foregoing is better transacted in idea, for the very reason that a pantomime is a more rational exhibition for an active mind to contemplate than the dull, commonplace, viva voce representation of a play. Thus I am situated; re- moved from the necessity of acting on the stage of the world, my mind furnishes me with all that is necessary. An inflammation in the throat, although troublesome to a de- gree, is not so painful as a swelling at the side of the face, with a tender tooth; but, as I am really confined, I would take that too, if it would rid your friend of it. Guard against the sudden changes of weather; never dwell on trifles; be mistress of yourself; then I am convinced you will always have the credit of acting well." When on a visit to Albany, in the year 1800, Dr. Bay- Jey received from his daughter the following expressions of her regard : "New York, March 4. My father, a littl* 4 42 THE LIFE OF faithful heart has been conversing with you this hour paat> and I have engaged to copy from it a part of its contents that it regrets your absence, is extremely anxious for your present safety, and will rejoice when you return. The post goes to-morrow; therefore there is no time to wait till the brain is in the humor of invention, and therefore you must receive th3 present communication from that source which is always ready when you are the person in question; and it has also a peculiar pleasure in conveying to you the in- telligence that its friend, who was yesterday a sufferer, is well to-day." "March 12. The heart of your Betty jumped for joy at sight of the letter that was to tell her of your safe ar- rival, that you were well, and in the midst of friends; and can it be that there is any charm in the visit to Albany to compensate for your absence from New York? Dear sir, indeed you mistook: it was but a momentary impression, which, I am sure, is before this time changed into the re- collections of those douceurs without which every other gra- tification loses its charm with its novelty. That ever you should observe the distance of the belt from the chin * It is true that very conspicuous points must attract attention : so far it is easy to imagine, more so than that your mind should be in that pliant, happy mood to admit of amusement from transient objects. I wish it may long remain in the desirable state your letter left you in, like holiday to the child that has long been kept in school and harassed by the severity of its teacher I have been copying no many English letters, French letters, &c., that one ey? ig open, the other shut; therefore, dear Mr. Papa, 1 wish you a night of rest and myself the same Your most deaf daughter, E. A. SETON." * An allusion to some remark of her father. MRS. E. A. SETON. 43 The amiable qualities here depicted could not fail 60 se- cure 4 corresponding feeling in a parent of so generous a mature as Dr. Bayley. But, enhanced as they were by the noblest sentiments of virtue, they rendered his daughter au object of unbounded admiration in his eyes. Writing to him on one occasion, after indulging her usual vein of hi- larity, she concludes her letter in the following beautiful train : " I have been reading of the High and Holy One who inhabits eternity, and selecting such passages as I wish to transmit to my daughter. How the world lessens and re- cedes ! How calm and peaceable are hours spent in such solitude ! They are marked down for useful purposes, and their memory remains. I close my evening employment with 'orisons for thee.' Peace be with my father." To this elevation of soul and practical wisdom Mrs. Seton joined a degree of respectful submission to the wishes of her father, which was not less attractive in the eyes of a parent. Though circumstances would sometimes place him at a dis- tance from her, she regarded him as present, and observed his counsels with the same exactitude as if he were a wit- ness of her conduct. " Your spirit," she tells him, " sur- rounds your child, who checks each word you would prevent and pursues every action that you would approve." It is easy to conceive how truly such virtue was appreciated by Dr. Bayley, and how refreshing must have been its effects amid the laborious duties in which he was so actively en- gaged. In the discharge of his office as health physician to the port of New York, he passed much of his time at Staten Island, where vessels were detained at quarantine. Here the scenes of distress and suffering which occurred among the emigrants, who frequently arrived in consider- able numbers, and which almost defy description, called into constant action the energetic benevolence of Dr. Bayley. While the yellow fpver was raging on board of the infected 44 THE LIFE OS vessels, hurrying to the grave hundreds of unfortunate beings who had scarcely seen the light of day since they had embarked from home, and little infants were dying by scores as soon as admitted into the fresh air, or famishing at the mother's breast, unable to receive other nourishment or to find it, Dr. Bayley was everywhere seen among the sick and the dying sometimes carrying the almost lifelesfl babes in his own arms, to place them in comfortable beds. To the countless numbers that came from foreign countries, and were suffering from the pestilence, he was a real father. In offices of humanity he never wearied, and every rising gun found him already two or three hours engaged in the work of charity. Although Mrs. Seton could not partici- pate in the active philanthropy of her father, she did not lack the disposition to do all that she possibly could to as- suage the sufferings of her fellow-beings. The language in which she alludes to their pitiable condition exhibits a heart filled with the most tender commiseration. Writing to her sister-in-law on this subject, she says: "Rebecca, I cannot sleep; the dying and the dead possess my mind babies perishing at the empty breast of the expiring mother. And this is not fancy, but the scene that surrounds me. Father Bays such was never known before; that there are actually twelve children that must die for mere want of sustenance, unable to take more than the breast, and, from the wretched- ness of their parents, deprived of it, as they have lain ill for many days in the ship, without food, air, or changing. Mer- ciful Father 1 oh, how readily would I give them each a turn of my child's treasure, if in my choice ! But, Rebecca, they have a provider in heaven who will soothe the pangs of the Buffering innocent." Such was the heartfelt sympathy with which she contemplated the misery of those around her, that he was tempted to wean her own child, in order to become a mother to the little ones whom sickness had deprived of MRS. E. A. 8ETON 4b all parental assistance. But this her father would not per- mit, as her first duty regarded those who were more imme- diately under her charge. Her obligations in this respect allowed her comparative leisure in her retirement at Statcn Island; and she did not fail to employ to the best advantage the moments which were left from her domestic avocations. One hour of the day was devoted to the gratification of her father, who found no more effectual relaxation from his ar- duous and perilous office than to listen to the sweet music of the piano j but to prayer and the reading of the holy Scriptures she appropriated much more time, and she expe- .rienced the purest joy in these exercises of Christian piety.* The following effusion, written at a season when the ravages of death were actively going on around her, will show the peace of mind which, under these circumstances, she derived from religious meditation, and her grateful sense for the favors vouchsafed to her and her family : " * Consider the blessings that are at His right hand for them that love him.' I was awoke from my sleep this morning with these sweet words still sounding in my ears a bright sun and every blessing surrounding me. Often does the perishing body enjoy this happiness, while the soul is still imprisoned in the shades of darkness. This day it flies to Him, the mer- ciful giver of these unspeakable blessings, without a fear or one drawback but the dread of that frailty returning which has so often sunk it in the depths of sorrow. Merciful Fa- ther, graciously save it from the worst of all misery, that of offending its adored benefactor and friend. Praise the Lord, * As an evidence of Mrs. Seton's admiration of piety, we will men- tion here that she was struck with the religious demeanor of the Irish migrants who landed on Staten Island for the purpose of receiving medical aid. " The first thing these poor people did when they got their tents was to assemble on the grass, and all, kneeling, adored our Maker for the mercy ; and every morning tun finds them repeating their pruiiM.* 46 THE LIFE OF oh my soul ! Praise Mm, that the blessed impulse of gnu* may redound to thy own happiness and glory, for to him thy praise can add nothing; to thyself it is now the means of grace and comfort, and hereafter will be thy pleasure and joy through eternity." But the period had arrived when Mrs. Seton was to ex- perience one of the severest trials that could fall to her lot. Dr. Bayley, her father, was about to end a life of active use- fulness, on the very spot and in the very cause where hia jaoors had been so extensively beneficial to the medical pro- fession and to humanity. In the discharge of his duty as health physician, in August, 1801, he directed the passen- gers and crew of an Irish emigrant vessel with ship fever to go on shore to the rooms and tents appointed for them, leav- ing their baggage behind. This was in the evening. Early the following morning, upon going to the hospital, he found that his orders had been disobeyed, and crew and passen- gers, men, women, and children, well, sick, and dying, with all their baggage, were huddled together in one apartment, where they had passed the night. Into this apartment, be- fore it had been ventilated, he imprudently entered, and re- mained but a moment, being compelled to retire by the most deadly sickness at the stomach and intense pain in the head, which seized him immediately upon entering the room.* Returning home, he retired to his bed, from which he never rose. The anguish of his affectionate and devoted daughter, at this crisis, may be better imagined than described. All that the tenderest solicitude could suggest was done by her to relieve his sufferings. She watched continually at his side, and poured forth her fervent prayers to God for his welfare. In fact, the mercy of God wi.s her only resource io these moments of deep affliction, an.d she invoked it in- * Thacher. ibid. MRS. E. A. SETOJT. 47 cessantly in behalf of her beloved parent. She thus ex- presses her sentiments on this occasion in a letter to a sister- in-law. " My own Rebecca's heart aches for me but all in vain. The chance is so small, that hope is folly, except aa we refer it to Him who can renew both body and soul in ao instant. He cannot retain any nourishment or get rest for any length of time; knows his dear Betty, so as to expresa by his looks his pleasure at seeing her, and sometimes puts out his hand. Your poor sister's only refuge is the Father that cannot be removed. Oh ! how sweet is such refuge iu this hour I" Such was Mrs. Seton's trust in God, not only for the bodily relief of her father, but principally for the welfare of his soul. She knew that his religious ideas were too conformable to the principles of the then prevalent phi- losophy, and she feared, notwithstanding his great moral vir- tues, lest his salvation might be in danger. In the ardor of her love, and with full confidence in the infinite goodness of God, she endeavored to think of some sacrifice which could be offered to the Almighty as a pledge for the eternal happiness of her father's soul. At length she adopted the following expedient. Leaving her dying parent for a few moments, she went to the cradle where her infant child was sleeping, clasped it in her arms, and, going out on the piazza of the building, she there raised the little innocent babe to- ward heaven, and appealed to the divine compassion, say- ing. " Jesus, my merciful Father and God ! take this little innocent offering; I give it to thee with all my heart; take it, my Lord, but save my father's soul." It pleased divine Providence, however, not to deprive her of the child which she bore in her arms. It was reserved, with her other children, to be reared in the knowledge of the true faith, after she herself had been introduced into the one fold under one shepherd. On the seventh day of his sickness, about the 16th of August. Dr. Bavley expired, leaving be- 48 THE LIFE OF hind him a high character as a clinically-instructed phys* cian, " an excellent and bold operator, a prompt practitioner of rapid diagnosis and unhesitating decision. In demeanor a perfect gentleman, honest and chivalrously honorable; of perfect integrity, and little tolerant of obliquity in others; ever ready to serve the cause of his profession ; inflexible in his attachments, invincible in his dislikes, and unbrooking of insult ; in temper fiery, yet suddenly cool a fault which he knew and regretted; thoroughly fearless; somewhat too strongly partial to certain patients, but withal charitable to a fault." * (5) He was one of those characters that make warm friends and bitter enemies. His servants and depend- ants were much attached to him, and for several years after his death they were known to shed tears at the mention of his name. With the ardent temperament of Mrs. Seton and her fond devotedness to her father, the bereavement which she suf- fered by his death would have produced the most disastrous results for her happiness, had she not been strengthened against all the vicissitudes of life by the steady cultivation of a spirit of submission to the decrees of Providence. This disposition enabled her to moderate her grief; and although she ever recalled the memory of Dr. Bayley with the pro- foundest sentiments of love and veneration, she did not for- get that the Almighty had reserved for her, in the family around her, an ample field for the immediate exercise of her affectionate solicitude. It was her only remaining wish, after the interment of her distinguished parent, that she might be permitted after death to repose by his side. But this prayer was not granted : it was ordained in the counsels of Heaven that she herself should become a nucleus around which would be gathered the precious remains of her chil Thacher, lot. cit. MRS. K. A. SETON. W dren and her spiritual daughters, who will not be separated from her in death after having been united in the bonds of charity during life. After the demise of her father, Mrs. Seton seemed to grow more fervent in the practice of her religion. The ex- tracts already furnished from her papers, some of whici were posterior in date to the event just mentioned, clearly show that as she advanced in years the practice of piety engaged her deep and constant attention. We will here furnish one or two additional passages from her writings at this period, with a view to indicate the sentiments which animated her previously to the increased affliction which an all-wise Providence was preparing for her. On Sunday, the 23d of May, 1802, on which most probably she had com- muned, she thus expresses herself : " This blessed day, my BOU! was first sensibly convinced of the blessing and practi- cability of an entire surrender of itself and all its faculties to God. It has been the Lord's day indeed to me though many, many temptations to forget my heavenly possession, in his constant presence, have pressed upon me. But, blessed be my gracious Shepherd, in this last hour of his day I am at rest within his fold, sweetly refreshed with the waters of comfort which have flowed through the soul of his minister- ing servant." In the month of August, the same year, she formed the following resolutions, which evince a serious at tention to the practice of the Christian maxims. " Solemnly in the presence of my Judge, I resolve, through his grace, to remember my infirmity and my sin; to keep the door of my lips; to consider the cause of sorrow for sin in myself afld them whose souls are as dear to me as iny own ; to check and restrain all useless words; to deny myself and exercise that severity that I know is due to iny sin; to judge myself thereby, trusting through mercy that I shall not be severely jadged by my Lord." The following year, on the 9th of 50 THE LIFE OF March, she penned a beautiful act of thanksgiving to God, in which she alludes to the happy exchange of this life's shadows and pains for the glory and felicity of the next. " Oh let our souls praise thee, and our all be devoted to thy service; then at the last we shall praise thee, day without night, rejoicing in thy eternal courts by the light of thj celestial glories all our darkness, pains, and sorrows, will be forever dispersed those clouds and griefs which now op- press and weigh down the souls of thy poor, erring creatures will be gone and remembered no more. Those thorns which now obstruct our path those shades which now obscure the light of thy heavenly truth all, all shall be done away, and give place to thy cheering presence, to the eternal, unchang- ing joys which thou hast in store for the souls of thy faith- ful servants." Thus did the good providence of God permit her to cherish the most fervent sentiments of religion, even in communion with the sect in which she had been educated, that her mind might be fortified against the influence of ap- proaching tribulation, and particularly that her subsequent abjuration of error might be invested with a greater eclat, and exhibit more strikingly the riches of that mercy which calls the wandering sheep into the pastures of truth and eternal life. In the following book it will be seen how the Almighty prepared the way for this signal exercise of hij Infinite goodness. MRS. Z. A. SETON. BOOK IL Mr. Seton's ill-health Voyage to Italy, accompanied by hia wife and eldest daughter Mrs. Seton's sentiments Her journal Incidents on nriTvag at Leghorn Description of the Lazaretto Mrs. Seton 'a resignation and fortitude The Capiia.no Mr. Seton grows weaker Quarantine precautions Mrs. Seton's confidence in God Comfort to her husband His sufferings The Capitano's religion Sentiments of Mr. Seton Visitors at the Lazaretto Incident of Mrs. Seton's youth Reflections Communion with home Attentions to her husband Devotions Journey to Pisa Devotedness of Mrs. Seton Her hus- band's dispositions His death Energy and fortitude of his wife What strangers thought of her Attentions and sympathy from friends Visit to Florence Impressions. EARLY in the spring of 1803, Mr. Seton's health, which had always been extremely delicate, seemed to be rapidly declining, and he was advised by his physicians to try the experiment of a sea-voyage for the purpose of reviving his sinking frame. A commercial intercourse had made him long and favorably known to the Messrs. Filicchi, distin- guished merchants at Leghorn, which determined him to visit the genial clime of that country, and to renew an ac- quaintance which he had formed with it in his earlier years. With a view to afford her suffering husband every attention that his situation required, Mrs. Seton resolved to accom- pany him, and immediately set about the necessary prepara- tions for the voyage, confiding to her relatives the care of her younger children, and selecting her eldest daughter, Anna Maria, then in her ninth year, as a companion during her travels. The severe trial which carried Mrs. Seton from home, and the fearful uncertainty which yet hung over the issue of the journey, were well calculated to plunge her into the deepest sorrow; but her confidence in God and resigna- 52 THE LIFE DP fcion to his divine will sustained her courage and composed her mind for every affair that demanded attention. We may form some idea of her sentiments at this period from the following lines written to one of her nearest friends : "My dear, dear Eliza, your tenderness and affection calls me hack; for often, often, with all I have to do, I forget I urn here. The cloud that would overpower can only be borne by striving to get above it. Seton has had new and severe suffering since I saw you; all say it is presumption, and next to madness, to undertake our voyage; but you know we reason differently. Saturday is now the day; every thing is ready and on board. We will, dear Eliza, rest upon Him, our only strength, and my soul is thankful, for surely, with all the many calls we have to resign our hopes in this life, we naturally without one lingering pain must seek our rest above. Can it be that we will be there to separate no more? With the strong and ardent faith with which I receive and dwell on this promise, all is well and resting on the mercy of God. May he bless you as my soul blesses you, and raise you above the sorrows and pains with which your soul has so long struggled ! Dear, dear Eliza, my heart trembles within me, and I can only say, take my darlings often in your arms, and do not let the re- membrance of any thing I have ever done that has vexed you come twice to your thoughts. I know it will not; but it seems now to me like my last hour with all that I love." To a youthful and beloved relative, in whose welfare she took a particular interest, Mrs. Seton addressed the follow- ing parting advice : "Although I leave you in the hands of your dearest friends, and under the protecting care of our dear and Heavenly Father, still my heart would dictate to you many anxious requests respecting your habitual ob- servance of that heavenly Christian life you have so early begun; and in order to persevere in this, your first atten- MRS. X. A. SETON. 68 tion must be to make to yourself a few particular rules, which you must not suffer any thing on earth to divert you from, as they relate immediately to your sacred duty to your God; and, if you find that there are any obstacles in your way and doubtless you will find many, as every Christian does in the fulfilment of their duty, still persevere with yet more earnestness, and rejoice to bear your share in the cross, which is our passport and seal to the kingdom of our Redeemer. Nor will your steadiness of conduct ever injure you even in the minds of those who act differently from you, for all who lo r e you will respect and esteem you the more for persevering in what you know to be your duty. And may the Divine Spirit strengthen your soul in his ser- vice, and make your way plain before you, that whatever are the changes in this our mortal life, we may find our rest in that blessed fold, where dear friends will no more be separated, but perfect the virtues and affections which have united them here, by the crown of immortal life and glory." The day after writing this note, October 2d, the voyagers had reached the quarantine port of New York on their way to Italy. Mr. Seton already experienced the salutary effects of a change of air, and as to his wife, she thus expressed her feelings on leaving home : " My heart is lifted, feels its treasure, and the little cabin and my cross are objects of peace and sweet comfort. He is with me, and what can I fear?" Although the parting from home drew tears from her eyes, she was resigned to the circumstances that com- pelled it. On the following day, the vessel having nearod the light-house, Mr. Seton's symptoms continued to be favorable. From this position, Mrs. Seton addressed a note to her sister-in-law, Rebecca, in which she says : " I feel so satisfied in my hidden treasure, that you might think me an old rock. Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien (the captain and hiswift) are really kind friends to us. The steward seems as anxious 54 THE LIFE JF to please me as even our Mary* could be, and a dear little child, about eighteen months old, makes me sigh for Tatte* ;f but, as I told my Bayley, I neither look behind nor before only up, there is my rest, and I want nothing. They threaten a storm, but I fear not with Him." With this calm temper of mind, which Mrs. Seton uniformly preserved, a voyage across the Atlantic could not fail to be a source of abundant enjoyment, whether resulting from the contem- plation of the natural wonders which it presented, or from the spiritual associations which it so readily suggests to a religious soul. About midway between America and Italy she thus wrote to a friend at home : "We are now past the Western Isles, which are exactly half-way between New York and Leghorn, and hourly expect to meet some vessel that may take our letters home as I am sure my very dear friend will be among the first inquirers of news from us. I write, though sure there can be little to interest you after saying that Mr. Seton is daily getting better and that little Ann and myself are well. If I dared indulge my enthu- siasm, and describe, as far as I could give them words, my ex travagant enjoyments in gazing on the ocean, and the rising and setting sun, and the moonlight evenings, a quire of paper would not contain what I should tell you; but one subject you will share with me, which engages my whole soul, the dear, the tender, the gracious love with which every moment has been marked in these my heavy hours of trial. You will believe, because you know, how blessed they are who rest on our Heavenly Father. Not one strug- gle nor desponding thought to contend with confiding hope and consoling peace has attended my way through storms and dangers that must have terrified a soul whow rock is not Christ." A servant, probably, at home. f Her youngest child, an infant MRS. E. A. SETON. 5* During the voyage nothing of particular interest trap spired except the sickness of Mrs. Seton's daughter, who caught the whooping-cough from the captain's child, whic^ was laboring under the same complaint. Mr. Seton's healtk was apparently improving, though he was much annoyed by the coughing and crying of the children around him. Hi* wife divided her time between her devotions and the atten- tions which she bestowed upon him and her suffering child. Her sentiments and resolutions are thus recorded by her- self, on the llth of November: " My dear little Anna shed many tears on her prayer-book, over the 92d psalui, in con- sequence of my telling her that we offended God every day. Our conversation began by her asking me if God put down our bad actions in his book as well as our good ones. She said she wondered how any one could be sorry to see a dear infant die; she thought there was more cause to cry when they were born. Considering the infirmity and corrupt nature which would overpower the spirit of grace, and the enormity of the offence to which the least indulgence of them would lead me in the anguish of my soul, shudder- ing to offend my adored Lord, I have this day solemnly en- gaged that, through the strength of his Holy Spirit, I will not again expose that corrupt and infirm nature to the small- est temptation I can avoid; and, therefore, if my Heavenly Father will once more reunite us all, that I will make a daily sacrifice of every wish, even the most innocent, les they should betray me to deviation from the solemn and sacred vow I have now made. my God ! imprint it on my soul with the strength of the Holy Spirit, that, by his grace supported and defended, I may never more forget that thou art my all, and that I cannot be received in thy heavenly kingdom without a pure and faithful heart, su- premely devoted to thy holy will. Oh, k?ep me for the sake of Tesus Christ 1" 56 THE LITE 0V She thus notes the incidents of November 16: "A heavy storm of thunder and lightning at midnight. My soul, assured and strong in its Almighty Protector, encou- raged itself in him, while the knees trembled as they bent to him the worm of the dust shaking at the terrors of ita Al- mighty Judge a helpless child clinging to the mercy of ita tender Father a redeemed soul strong in the strength of ita adored Saviour! After reading a great deal, and long and earnest prayer, went to bed, but could not rest. A little voice, (my own Anna, who I thought was asleep,) in a soft whisper said, ( Come hither, all ye weary souls.' I changed my place to her arms; the rocking of the vessel and the' breaking of the waves were forgot; the heavy sighs and restless pains were lost in a sweet refreshing sleep. Adored Redeemer ! it was thy word, by the voice of one of thy little ones, who promises indeed to be one of thy angels." On the 18th of the same month, while the Ave Maria bells were ringing, the vessel arrived in the mole of Leghorn. The events which followed between this period and that of her husband's death were all recorded by Mrs. Seton in a jour- nal, which, although not possessing the strict connection and phraseology of a narrative, will perhaps be found more in- teresting by the reader than if presented in another form, as it is a lifelike picture of the author's character, drawn by herself, at moments when she poured forth her sentiments and emotions to a bosom friend with the utmost simplicity of manner, and with all the ardor which an entire freedom from restraint would permit. This journal was written at che lazaretto of Leghorn, where Mr. Seton, with his wife and child, was detained during four weeks on account of his sickness, and his having come from New York, where the yellow fever had made its appearance. " 19/A Nov., 1803 10 o'clock at night. How eagerly would you listen to the voice that should offer to tell you MRS. E. A. SETON. 57 where your dear sister is now your soul's sister. Yet you could not rest in your bed if you saw her as she is. sitting in one corner of an immense prison, bolted in a sing.e win- dow, double-grated with iron, through which, if I should want any thing, I am to call a sentinel with a cocked hat and long rifled gun that is, that he may not receive the dreadful infection we are supposed to have brought with us from New York. " To commence from where I left off last night : I went to sleep and dreamed I was in the middle aisle of Trinity Church, singing with all my soul the hymn at our dear sa- crament. So much comfort made me more than satisfied, and when I heard in the morning a boat was alongside of our ship, I flew on deck and would have thrown myself in the arms of dear Carlton ;* but he retired from me, and a guard, whom I saw for the first time, said, ' Don't touch.' It was now explained that our ship was the first to bring the news of the yellow fever in New York, which our want of a bill of health discovered; our ship must go out in the roads, and my poor William, being sick, must go with his baggage to the lazaretto. At this moment the band of music that al- ways welcomes strangers came under our cabin window, playing ' Hail Columbia/ and those little tunes that set the darlings singing and dancing at home. Mrs. O'Brien and the rest were almost wild with joy, while I was glad to hide in my berth the full heart of sorrow, which seemed as if it must break. You cannot have an idea of the looks of my poor William, who seemed as if he could not live over the day. Presently appeared a boat with fourteen oars, and we entered into another fastened to it. The lazaretto being iome miles from town, we were rowed out to sea again, and, after an hour's ride over the waves, the chains which cross Dr. Guy Carlton Bayley, of New York, her step-brother, at that time In the counting-house of the Messrs. Filicchi. 68 THE LIFE OF the entrance of the canal which leads to this place were let down at the signal of several successive bells, and, after an- other rowing between walls as high as our second-story win- dows, and the quarrelling and hallooing of the wateiuien where we should be lauded, the boat stopped. Another suc- cession of bells brought down one guard after another, and in about half an hour Monsieur le Capitano, who, after niucl consultation and whispering with his lieutenant, said we might come out, upon which every one retreated, and a guard pointed with his bayonet the way which we were to go. An order from the commandant was sent from our boat to the Capitano, which was received on the end of a stick, and they were obliged to light a fire to smoke it before it could be read. My books always go with me, and they were carefully put up, but must all be looked over and the pages and the little secretary examined. The person who did this, and examined our mattresses, must perform as long a quaran- tine as ourselves. Poor little Anna ! how she trembled ! and William tottered along as if every moment be must fall, which, had he done, no one for their lives dared to touch him. We were directed to go opposite to the window of the Capitano's house, in which sat Mrs. Philip Filicchi compliments and kind looks without number; a fence waa between us, but, I fear, did not hide my fatigue both of soul and body : first we had chairs handed, or rather placed for us, for, after we had touched them, they could not go back to the house. At length we were shown the door we were to enter No. 6, up twenty stone steps a room with high arched ceilings, like St. Paul's, brick floor, and naked walls. The Capitano sent three warm eggs, a bottle of wine, and some slices of bread. William's mattress was soon spread, and he upon it; he could not touch wine or eg^. Our little syrups, currant jelly, drinks, &c., which he must have every hali hour on board ship where were they? I had MBS. E. A. SETO.V. 59 heard the lazaretto was the very place for comfort for the sick, and brought nothing; soon found there was a little closet, on which my knees found rest, and, after emptying my heart, and washing the bricks with my tears, returned to my poor William, and found him and Ann both in want of a preacher. Dear puss, she soon found a rope that had tied her bor, began jumping away to warm herself, for the coldness of the walls and bricks made us shiver. At sunset, dinner came from the kind Filicchis, with other necessaries ; we went to the grate again to see them. And now, on the ship-mattresses spread on this cool floor, my William and Anna are sound asleep, and T trust that God, who has given him strength to go through a day of such exertion, will carry us on. He is our all indeed. My eyes smart so much with crying, wind, and fatigue, that I must close them and lift up my heart; sleep won't come very easily. If you had seen little Anna's arms clasped around my neck, at her prayers, while the tears rolled a stream, how you would love her ! I read her to sleep, little pieces of trust in God ; she said, ' Mamma, if papa should die here but God will be with us.' God is with us, and if sufferings abound in us, his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed an ut- terance. If the wind (for it is said there were never such storms at this season) that now almost puts out my light and blows on my William at every crevice, and over our chim- ney like loud thunder, could come from any but his com- mand, or if the circumstances that have placed us in so for- lorn a situation were not guided by his hand, miserable in- deed would be our case. Within this hour he has had a violent fit of coughing, so as to bring up blood, which agi- tates and distresses him through all his endeavors to hide it. What shall we say ? This is the hour of trial ; the Lord sup- port and strengthen us in it! Retrospections bring anguish- ' press forward toward the mark and prize.' 60 THE LIFE Of "20th, Sunday morning. The matin bells awakened my Krai to its most painful regrets, and filled it with an agony of sorrow which would not at first find relief even in prayer. In the little closet, from whence there is a view of the open sea and the beatings of the waves against the high rocks at the entrance of this prison, which throws them violently back and raises the white foam as high as its walls, I first came to my senses, and reflected that I was offending my only Friend and resource in my misery, and voluntarily shut- ting from my soul the only consolation it could receive. Pleading for mercy and strength brought peace, and, with a cheerful countenance, I asked William what we should do for breakfast. The doors were unbarred, and a bottle of milk set down in the entrance of the room, poor Philip fearing to come too near. Little Anna and William ate it with bread, and I walked the floor with a crust and a glass of wine. William could not sit up. His ague came on, and my soul's agony with it. My husband on the cold bricks without fire, shivering and groaning, lifting his dim and sorrowful eyes with a fixed gaze in my face, while his tears ran on his pillow without one word. Anna rubbed one hand, I the other, till his fever came on. The Capitano brought us news that our time was lessened five days told me to be satisfied with the dispensations of God, &c., and was answered by such a succession of sobs that he soon de- parted. Mr. Filicchi now came to comfort my William, and when he went away we said as much of our blessed service as William could go through. I then was obliged to lay my head down. Dinner was sent from town, and a Bervant to stay with us during our quarantine, Louis, an old man, very little, with gray hairs and blue eyes, which changed their expression from joy to sorrow, as if they would console and still enliven. My face was covered with a handker- ihicf when he came in, and, tired of the sight of men with MBS. E. A. SETON. 61 docked hats, cockades, and bayonets, I did not look up Poor Louis ! how long shall I remember his voice of sorrow tnd tenderness when refusing the dinner! He .ooked up with lifted hands in some prayer that God would comfort me, and so I was comforted when I did not look at my poor William $ but to see him as he then was was worse than to eee him dead. And now the bolts of another door were hammered open, and Louis, who was become an object of equal terror, having entered our room and touched what we had touched, had an apartment allotted him. How many times did the poor old man run up and down the nearly- perpendicular twenty steps to get things necessary for our comfort next morning ! When all was done, I handed him a chair that he might rest. He jumped almost over it, and danced around me like a madman, declaring he would work all night to serve us. My William, wearied out, was soon asleep. Ann, with a flood of tears, said her prayers and soon forgot her sorrows, and it seemed as if opening my prayer-book and bending my knees was the signal for my soul to find rest. It was nine o'clock with us three at home. I imagined what I had so often enjoyed, and con- soled myself with the thought that, though separated in the body six thousand miles, my soul and the souls that I love were at the throne of grace at the same time in the same prayers to one Almighty Father, accepted through our adored Redeemer and enlightened by one blessed Spirit. Then did it rejoice indeed in the Lord, and triumph in the God of its salvation. After prayers, read my little book of sermons, and became far more happy than I had been wretched. Went to bed at twelve; got up twice to prayera and to help my poor William. " Monday. Awoke with the same rest and comfort with which I had laid down. Gave my William his warm milk, and began to consider our situation, though so unfavorable 62 THE LIFE OF to hia complaint, as one of the steps in the dispensations of that Almighty will which could alone choose right for us; and therefore set Ann to work, and myself to the dear Scrip- tures, as usual, lying close behind the poor shiverer to keep him from the ague. Our Capitano came with his guards and put up a very neat bed and curtains, sent by Filicchi, and fixed the benches on which Ann and I were to lie; tooK down our names Signore G-ulielmo, Signora Elizabeth, and Signora Anna Maria. The voice of kindness which again entreated me to look up to le bon Dieu made me look up to the speaker; and in our Capitano I found every expression of a benevolent heart. His great cocked hat being off, I found it had hid his gray hairs and a kind and affectionate countenance. * I had a wife ; I loved her I loved her. Oh ! she gave me a daughter which she commended to my care, and died.' He clasped his hands and looked up, and then at my William. 'If God calls, what can we do? et qut voulez-vous, Signora f I began to love my Capitano. Read, and jumped the rope to warm me; looked around our prison and found that our situation was beautiful; comforted my William all I could, rubbing his hands, and wiping his tears, and giving words to his soul, which was too weak to pray for itself; heard Ann read, while I watched the setting sun in a cloud. After both were asleep, read, prayed, wept, and prayed again, until eleven; at no loss to know the hours night and day; four bells strike every hour and ring every quarter. "Tuesday. My William was better, and very much en- couraged by his doctor, Tutilli, who was very kind to him ; also our Capitano, who now seemed to understand me a little, again repeated, ' I loved my wife I loved her, and she died, et que voulez-vous, Signora f Talked with the Filicchis at the grate, and with great difficulty got my Wil- liam up the stairs again; nursed him, read to him, and MRS. E. A. SETON. 63 heard Ann read, and made the most of our troubles. Our Louis brought us an elegant bouquet jessamines, geraniums, pinks, &c. ; be makes excellent soup ; cooks all with char- coal in a litt.e pot. No sunset ; heavy gale, which, if any thing could move our walls, would certainly bring them down ; the roaring of the sea sounds like thunder ; passed my evening as the last, quite reconciled to the sentinel's watch and bolts and bars ; not afraid of my candle, as the window-shutter is the only piece of wood about us. " Wednesday. Not only willing to take my cross, but kissed it too ; and while glorying in our consolations, my poor William was taken with an ague which was almost too much for him. He told me, as he had often done before, that it was too late ; his strength was going from him every hour, and he should go gradually, but not long. This to me : to his friends quite cheerful ; he was not able to go to them ; they were admitted to our door ; must not touch the least thing near us; and a point of our Capitano's stick warded my William off, when in eager conversation he would go too near. It reminded me of going to see the lions. One of the guards brought a pot of incense also to purifv our air. A quiet half hour at sunset ; Ann and I sang advent hymns with a low voice. Oh ! after all was asleep, said our dear service alone William had not been able in the day ; found heavenly consolation, forgot prisons, bolts, and sor- rows, and would have rejoiced to have sung with St Paui and Silas. " Thursday. I find my present opportunity a treasure, and my confinement of body a liberty of soul, which I may never again enjoy while they are united. Every moment iiot spent with iny dear books, or in my nursing duty, is a losa. Ann is so happy with her rag-baby and little presents, it is a pleasure to see her. Our Capitano brought us new* that other five days were granted, and the 19th of Dcc*-oibvi 64 THE LIFE OF we were free. Poor William says with a groan, ' I beliere before then.' We pray and cry together, till fatigue over- powers him, and then he says he is willing to go. Cheering up is useless; he seems easier after venting his sorrow, and always gets quiet sleep after his struggle. A heavj Btorm of wind, which drives the spray from the sea against our window, adds to his melancholy. If I could forget my God one moment at these times, I should go mad ; but He hushes all. ' Be still, and know that I am God your Father.' Dear home, dearest sisters, my little ones well either pro- tected by God in this world or in heaven. It is a sweet thought to dwell on, that all those I most tenderly love love God, and if we do not meet again here, there we shall be separated no more. If I have lost them now, their gain is infinite and eternal. How often I tell my William, < when you awake in that world you will find nothing could tempt you to return to this ; you will see that your care over your wife and little ones was like a hand, only to hold the cup, which God himself will give if he takes you.' Heavenly Father, pity the weak and burdened souls of thy poor crea- tures who have not strength to look to thee, and lift us from the dust for his sake, our resurrection and our life, Jesus Christ, our adored Redeemer. " Friday. A day of bodily pain, but peace with God. Kneeled on our mats round * 7 e table and said our dear ser- vice; the storm of vnnd so great. Carlton was admitted at the foot of the stairs, and from the top I conversed with him, which is always a great pleasure, as he seems to me next to an angel. Ventured to remind my poor William that it was our darling William's birthday, which cost him many tears ; he also cried over our dear Harriet's profile indeed he is sc weak that even a thought of home makes him she 1 tears. How gracious is our Lord who strengthen* my poor soul! Consider my husband, who left his all to MBS. E. A. 8ETON. 65 geek a milder climate, confined in this place of high and damp walls, exposed to cold and wind, which penetrates tc the very bones, without fire except the kitchen charcoal which oppresses his breast so much as to nearly convulse him ; no little syrups, nor softener of the cough ; milk and bark. Iceland moss, and opium pills, (which he takes quietly as a duty, without seeming even to hope,) is all I can offer him from day to day. When nature fails, and I can no longer look up with cheerfulness, I hide my head on the chair by his bedside, and he thinks I am praying; and pray I do, for prayer is all my comfort without it I should be of little service to him; night and day he calls me 'his life, his soul, his dearest, his all.' Our Capitano came this after- noon, and seeing poor William in a high fever, said, ' In this room what sufferings have I seen ! There lay an Ar- menian begging a knife to end the struggle of death ; there where the Signora's bed is, in the frenzy of fever, a French- man insisted on shooting himself, and died in agonies/ Little billets of paper pasted on the doors mark how many days different persons have stayed, and the shutter is all over notched 10, 20, 30, 40 days. I do not mark ours, trust- ing they are marked above. He only knows best. Dear, dear William, I can sometimes inspire him for a few mo- ments to feel that it wouid be sweet to die ; he always says, * My Father and my God, thy will be done.' Our Father in pity and compassion, our God in power, to succor and to save, who promises to pardon and save us through our adored Redeemer, who will not let those perish for whom ha has shed his precious blood. Only to reflect, if we did not know and love God if we did not feel the consolations and embrace the cheering hope he has set before us, and find our delight in the study of his blessed word and truth, whal would become of us ? E 66 ' Though torn from nature's most endearing ties, The heart's warm hope, and love's maternal glow, ***** Though sorrows still affecting ills prepare, And o'er each passing day her presence lowers, And darkened fancy shades with many cares, With many trials crowds the future hours: Still in the Lord I will rejoice, Still to my God I lift my voice, Father of mercies ! still my grateful lays Shall hymn thy name, exulting in thy praise. J. H. H " Capitano says, ' all religions are good ; it is good to keep one's own, but yours is not as good as mine to do to others as you would wish them to do to you that is all religion and the only point.' Tell me, dear Capitano, do you take this as a good principle only, or also as a command ? ' I reverence the command, Signora.' Well, Mons. Capitano, he who commands your excellent rule also commanded in the first place : ' Love the Lord your God with all your soul,' and do you not give that the first place, Capitauo ? 'Ah, Signora, it is excellent, mats il y a tant de choscs.' Poor Capitano, sixty years of age, and yet to find that to give God the soul interferes with so many things ! Dear little Ann, 'the child shall die a hundred years old, and the sinner a hundred years old shall be lost !' " Tuesday, 2$th Nov. Was obliged to go to bed at ten last night, to get warm in little Ann's arms ; awoke this morning while the moon was setting opposite our window, but could not enjoy its brightness, as the spray from the sea keeps the glass always thick; laid in bed till nine with little Ann, to explain to her our Te Deum. fehe said, ' One thing always troubles me, mamma ; our Saviour says, They who would reign with him must suffer with him, and if 1 was now cut off, where should T go, for I have not yet Suf- MRS. E. A. SLTON. 67 fored ?' She coughs very much, with a great deal of pain in the breast. She said, 'Sometimes I think, when this pain comes in my breast, that God will call me soon, and take me from this world, where I am always offending him ; and how good would that be, if he gives me a sickness that I may bear patiently, that I may try and please him!' My Anna, you please him every day when you help me through my troubles. 'Oh, do I, mamma? thank God, thank God !' After breakfast, read our psalms and the 35th chapter of Isaiah to my William, with so much delight, that it made us all merry; he read, at little Ann's request, the last chapter of Reve- lations, but the tones of his voice no heart can stand. A storm of wind still, and very cold. William, with a blanket over his shoulders, creeps to the old man's fire; Ann jumps the rope, and Matty hops on one foot five or six times the leugth of the room without stopping laugh at me, my sister, but it is very good exercise, and warms sooner than a fire when there is a warm heart to set it in motion. Sang hymns aud read promises to William, shivering under the bed- clothes, and felt that God is with us, and that he is our all. The fever comes hot, the bed shakes even with his breathing my God, my Father! "St. Andrews, 3Qth Nov. William again by the kitchen tire. Last night, thirty or forty poor souls of all nations, Greeks, Turks, Spaniards, and Frenchmen, arrived here from a shipwreck no mattresses, no clothes or food great-coats without shirts shirts without coats these sent all to one room with naked walls and the jug of water, until the com- mandant should find leisure to supply them. Our Capitano gays he can do nothing without orders. 'Patience, que voulez- vous, Signora? Anna says, 'for all we are so cold and in this prison, mamma, how happy we are compared with them, and we have peace too; they quarrel, fight, and halloo all jbe time; the Capitano sends us even chestnuts and friifci 68 THE LIFE OV from hifl own table; these have not bread.' Dear Ann, you will see many more such mysteries. At William's bedside, we have said our daily service; he thought it would stop hia Bhiverings. My William's soul is so humble, it will hardly embrace that faith, its only resource. At any time, whom have we but our Redeemer? but when the spirit is on th brink of departure, it must cling to him with increased force, or where is it? Dear William, it is not from the impulse of terror you turn to your God; you tried and wished to serve him, long before this trial came; why, then, will you not consider him as the Father who knows all the different means and dispositions of his children, and will graciously receive those who come to him by that way which he has appointed? You say your only hope is in Christ; what other hope do we need ? He says that the first effects he ever felt from the calls of the gospel he experienced from our dear Hobart's pressing the question in one of his sermons : ' What avails gaining the whole world and losing your own soul?'* The reflections he made when he returned home were, 'I toil and toil, and what is it? what I gain destroys me daily, soul and body; I live without God in the world, and shall die miserably.' Mr. F. D., with whom he had not been in habits of business, offered to join him in an adventure; it succeeded far beyond their expectation. Mr. F. D. said, when they wound it up, ' One thing you know, I have been long in business, began with very little have built a house, and have enough to build another. I have generally succeeded in my undertakings, and attribute all to this, that, whether they are great or small, I always ask a blessing of God, and look to that blessing for success.' William says, ' I was struck with shame and sorrow that I had been a heathen be- Rev. John Henry Hobart was an Episcopalian minister of Nw York, whose church Mrs. Seton frequented. MBS. E. A. SETON 69 fore God/ These he calls his two warnings which awakened his soul, and speaks of them always with tears. Oh, the promises he makes if it please God to spare him! " Have had our mate to see us from Captain O'Brien talked out of the window to him ; and one of the sailors, who seemed to love us as his own soul, always flying to serve and trying to please us while on board, came with him. Poor Charles ! he turned pale when he saw my head out of the iron bars, and called out, 'Why, Mrs. Seton, are you in a prison ?' He looked behind all the way as he went, and shook his head at Ann as long as he could see her. Charles had lived at the quarantine at Staten Island, and that, without his good and affectionate heart, would make me love him. I shall never hear a sailor's yo ! yo ! without thinking of hia melancholy song. He is the captain's and everybody's favorite. How gracious is my adored Master, who gives even to the countenance of the stranger the look of kind- ness and pity ! From the time we first landed here, one of the guards of our room looked always with sorrow and sym- pathy upon us, and, though I cannot understand him nor he me, we talk away very fast. He showed me yesterday he was very sick, by pointing to his breast and throat. When the Capitano came, I told him how sorry I was for poor Philippo. 'Oh, Signora, he is very well off; he has been two years married to a very handsome young woman of sixteen, has two children, and receives 3s. &d. per day: to be sure, he is obliged to sleep in the lazaretto, but in the morning goes home to his wife for an hour or two; it is not possible to spare him longer from his duty. Et que voulez- vous, Siynoraf Good and merciful Father, who gives con- tent to a cheerful heart with 3s. 6d. per day; a wife and two children to maintain with such a pittance ! Often let me think of Philippo, when I have not enough, or think I 70 THE LIFE OF have not He is twenty-two, his wife eighteen. Thought goes to two at home most dear H. and B. ' Went to the railings with little Anna, to receive from our Capitano's daughter a baby she had been making for her. She has a kind, good countenance, and hangs on her father's arm; has refused an offer of marriage, that she may take care of him. Such a sight awakened my recollections "Dec. 1. Arose between six and seven, before the day had dawned the light of the moon opposite our window was still the strongest not a breath of wind the sea, which before I had always seen in violent commotion, now gently seemed to creep to the rocks it had so long been beating over every thing around us at rest except two little white gulls flying to the westward toward my home, toward my loves, that thought did not do, flying toward heaven, where I tried to send my soul the angel of peace met it, and poured over the oil of love and praise, driving off every vain imagination, and led it to its Saviour and its l>od. We praise thee, God ! the dear strain of praise in which I always seem to meet the souls I love, and Our Father these two prayers are the union of love and praise, and in them the BOU! meets all. At ten o'clock read with William and Anna at twelve he was at rest, Ann playing in the next room. Alone to all the world one of those sweet pauses in spirit, when the body seems to me forgotten, came over me. In the year 1789, when my father was in England, one morn- ing in May, in the lightness of a cheerful heart I jumped in the wagon that was driving to the woods for brush, about a mile from home; the boy who drove it began to cut, and I set off in the woods, soon found an outlet in a meadow, and a chestnut-tree, with several young ones growing around it attracted my attention as a seat; but when I came to it, found rich moss under it and a warm sun. Here, then, wa eweet bed the air still, a clear blue vault above the num MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 71 berless sounds of spring-melody and joy the sweet cloyers and wild-flowers I had got by the way, and a heart as inno- cent as human heart could be, filled even with enthusiastic love to God and admiration of his works. Still I can feel crery sensation that passed through my soul; I thought at that time my father did not care for me. Well, God was my Father, my all. I prayed, sang hymns, cried, laughed, talk- ing to myself of how far He could place me above all sor- row. Then I laid still to enjoy the heavenly peace that came over my soul, and I am sure, in the two hours so en- joyed, grew ten years in my spiritual life; told cousin Joe to go home with his wood, not to mind me, and walked a mile round to see the roof of the parsonage. There I made another hearty prayer, then sang all the way home, with a good appetite for the samp and fat pork. Well, all this came strong in my head this morning, when, as I tell you, the body let the spirit alone. I had prayed and cried heartily, which is my daily and hourly comfort, and, closing my eyes with my head upon the table, lived all those sweet hours over again made believe I was under the chestnut-tree felt so peaceable a heart, so full of love to God such con- fidence and hope in him. The wintry storms of time shall be over, and the unclouded spring enjoyed forever. So you see, as you know, with God for our portion, there is no prison in high walls and bolts; no sorrow in the soul that waits on him, though beset with present cares and gloomy prospects. For this freedom I can never be sufficiently thankful, as in my William's case it keeps alive what in his weak state of body would naturally fail; and often when he hears me repeat the psalms of triumph in God, and read St. Paul's faith in Christ, with my whole soul, it so enlivens his spirit that he makes them also his own, and all our sor rows are turned into joy. Oh, well may I love God, well may my whole soul strive to please him, for what but the 72 THE LIVE Off pen of an angel can ever express what he has done and ii constantly doing for me? While I live, while I have my being in time and through eternity, let me sing praises to my God. "Dec. 2. Enjoyed the morn and daybreak; read the commentary on the 104th psalm, and sang hymns in bed till ten ; a hard frost in the night ; endeavored to make a fire in my room with brush, but was smoked out; the pool strangers, almost mad with cold and hunger, quarrelled battled, and at last sat down in companies on the grass witi cards, which made them as noisy as their anger. Patience ! Anna sick, William tired out! A clear sunset, which cheered my heart, though it was all the time singing DC profundis, from the lowest depth of wo ; the A ve Marie bell rings, while the sun sets, on one side of us, and the bells 'for the dead' on the other; the latter sometimes con- tinue a long while; in the morning always call again to pray for the 'souls in purgatory.' Our Capita no said a great deal on the pleasure I should enjoy on Christmas at Pisa, in seeing all the ceremonies. The enjoyments of Christmas ! Heavenly Father, who knows my inmost soul, he knows how it would enjoy, and will also pity while it is cut off from what it so much longs for. One thing is in my power though communion with those my soul loves is not within my reach in one sense, in the other what can deprive me of it ? still in spirit we may meet. At five o'clock here it will be twelve there. At five, then, in some corner on my knees I may spend the time they are at the altar; and if the cup of salvation cannot be received :n (he strange land evidently, virtually it may, with the biessing of Christ, and the cup of thanksgiving supply in a degree that which, if I could obtain it, would be my strongest de- gire. Oh, my soul ! what can shut us out from the love of Him who will even dwell within us through love ? MBS. E. A. 6ETON. 78 "Dec. 4. Our Captain O'Brien and his wife found their way to us ' must not touch Signora,' says Philippe, dividing us with his stick. Kind and affectionate captain, when I ran down to meet him, the tears danced in his eyes, while poor William and Ann peeped through the grates. Mrs. O'Brien began to cry ; we could not see them but a few minutes for the cold. Our lazaretto captain had sent us andirons, small wood, &c., and I have doctored the chim- ney with a curtain, so as to make the smoke bearable ; have had an anxious day between father and Ann. She was very ill for some hours ; when the cause of her sufferings was removed, we went on our knees together. Oh, may her dear soul long send forth such precious tears ! Dear, dear Rebecca, how often have we nursed up the fire together, as I do now alone ! alone ? recall the word my Bible, com- mentaries, Kempis, visible and continual enjoyment, when I cannot get hours, I take minutes. Invisible ! Oh, the company is numberless. Sometimes I feel so assured that the Guardian Angel is immediately present that I look from my book, and can hardly be persuaded I was not touched. 'Poor soul!' John Henry Hobart would say, 'she will lose her reason in that prison/ But the enjoyments only come when all is quiet and I have passed an hour or two with King David or the prophet Isaiah. Those hours, I often think, I shall hereafter esteem the most precious in my life. My Father and my God, who by the consoling voice of his word builds up the soul in hope, so as to free it even for hours of its encumbrance, confirming and strengthening it by constant experience of his indulgent goodness, giving it a new life in him, even while in tht midst of pains and sufferings sustaining, directing, con- ioling, and blessing, through every changing scene of its pilgrimage, making his will its guide to temporal comfort md eternal glory, how shall the most unwearied diligence, r 74 THE LIFE OF the most cheerful compliance, the most tumble lesignation, ever enough express my love, my joy, thanksgiving, and praise ? "Dec. 12. A week has passed, my dear sister, without even one little memorandum of the pen. The first day of it, (Sunday,) that dear day in which I always find my bless- ing, was passed in uninterrupted prayers, anxiety, and watching. On the 5th, (Monday,) was early awakened by my poor William in great suffering; sent for the doctor Tutilli, who, as soon as he saw him, told him he was not wanted, but I must send for him who would minister to his soul. In this moment I stood alone as to the world ; my "William looked in silent agony at me, and I at him, each fearing to weaken the other's strength ; at the moment he drew himself toward me, and said, 'I breathe out my soul with you.' The exertion he made assisted nature's remain- ing strength, and he threw a quantity from his lungs, which had threatened to stop their motion, and, so doing, expe- rienced so great a revolution that in a few hours afterward he seemed nearly the same as when we entered the lazaretto. Oh, that day ! it was spent close by his bedside on my little mat he slumbered the most of every hour ; and did I not pray, and did I not praise ? No inquiring visitor disturbed the solemn silence no breakfast or dinner to interrupt the rest. Carlton came at sunset ; Mrs. F., they thought, wap dying he thought his poor brother so and then came our Capitano with so much offered kindness. He was shocked at the tranquillity of my William, and distressed at the thought thai; I was alone with him, for the doctor had told him that, notwithstanding his present relief, if the exp-.cto- ni tii ii i from the lungs did not return he might be gone in a few hours. Would I have some one in the room ? Oh no ! what had I to fear ? And what had I to fear ? I lay down as if to rest, that he might not be uneasy ; listened aB- MRS. E. A. SETON. 75 night sometimes by the fire, sometimes lying down, some- times thought the breathing stopped, and sometimes, alarmed by its heaviness, kissed his poor face to see if it was cold. Well, I was alone ; dear, indulgent Father ! could I be alone while clinging fast to thee in continual prayer or thanksgiving, prayer for him, and joy, wonder, and de- ^ght to feel assured that what I had so fondly hoped and wnfidently asserted really proved, in the hour of trial, tc be more than I could hope, more than I could conceive ? that my God could and would bear me through the most severe trials, with that strength, confidence, and affiance, which, if every circumstance of the case was considered, seemed more than a human being would expect or hope ? But his consolations, who shall speak them ? How can utterance be given to that which only his spirit can feel ? At daylight, the wished-for change took place. Mr Hall* came in the morning with Mr. Filicchi and the Capitano ; went away with a promise to come again, and the inter- vening days and evenings have been spent in constant at- tention to the main concern, but, from a singularity of dis- position which rather delights in going on than in retro- specting sorrow, have rather (when I could only keep awake by wnting, according to the old custom) busied myself in writing the first sermon for my dear little Dick. William goes on gently, but keeps me busy. Ann is a treasure. She was reading yesterday that John was imprisoned. 'Yes, papa, Herod imprisoned him, and Miss Herodiaa gave him liberty.' 'No, my dear; she had him beheaded.' 'Well, papa, she released him from prison and sent him to God.' Child after my own heart ! "Dec. 13. Five days more, and our quarantine is ended lodgings are engaged at Pisa, on the borders of the Arno * Protestant Chaplain of the British Factory at Leghorn. 76 THE LIFE 01 My heart used to be full of poetical visions about this famous river, but it has no room for visions now; one only vision is before it. No one ever saw my William without giving him the quality of an amiable man; but to see that character exalted to the peaceful, humble Christian, waiting the will of God with a patience that seemed more than hu- man, and a firm faith which would do honor to the most dis tinguished piety, is a happiness that is allowed only to the poor little mother who is separated from all other happiness connected with this scene of things. No sufferings, nor weakness, nor distress, (and from these he is never free in any degree,) can prevent his following me daily in prayer, the psalms, and generally large readings of the Scriptures If he is a little better, he enlarges his attention; if worse, he is more eager not to lose a moment; and, except the day which we thought his last, he has never failed one day in this course since our entrance in these stone walls, the 19th of November. He very often says, this is the period of his life which, if he live or die, he will always consider as blessed, the only time which he has not lost. Not the small- est murmur oh ! and lifting up of the eyes is the strongest expression I have yet heard from him in the rapid progress of his complaint, which has reduced him almost to nothing, and from its very nature gives him no release from irritation in violent coughing, chills, oppression, weakness, and even in the weight of his own limbs seems more than a mortal could bear. * Why art thou so heavy, my soul ?' is the only comfort he seems to find in words; often talks of his darlings, but most of meeting one family in heaven; talks of those we have left behind, as if it was but yesterday, and of dear Henry Hobart, whose visits and society he misses most, as they would be his greatest consolation in these hours of sorrow. When I thank God for my creation and preservation, it is with a warmth of feeling I never could MRS . A. 8ETON 77 *now until now : to wait on him in my William's soul and body; to console and soothe these hours of affliction and pain, watching and weariness, which next to God I alone could do; to strike up the cheerful notes of hope and Chris- tian triumph, which from his partial love he hears with th more enjoyment from me, because to me he attributes the greatest share of them; to hear him, in pronouncing th? name of his Redeemer, declare that I first taught him the sweetness of the sound oh, if I was in the dungeon of this lazaretto, I should bless and praise my God for these days of retirement and abstraction from the world, which have afforded leisure and opportunity for so blessed a work. "Dec. 14. Said my dear prayers alone while William was asleep; did not dare to remind him of them, for weak- ness and pain quite overpower him. Rain and storm, as in- deed we have had almost every day of the twenty-six we have been here. The dampness about us would be thought dangerous for a person in health and my William's suffer- ings oh ! well I know that God is above. Capitano, you need not always point your silent look and finger there; if I thought our condition the providence of man, instead of the weeping Magdalen, as you so graciously call me, you would find me a lioness, willing to burn your lazaretto about your ears, if it was possible, that I might carry off my poor prisoner to breathe the air of heaven in some more seasonable place. To keep a poor soul, who comes to your country for his life, thirty days shut up in damp walls, smoke and wind from all quarters, blowing even the curtain round his bed, (and his bones almost through,) and now the shadow of death, trembling if he only stands a few minutes ! He is to go to Pisa for his health this day his prospects are very far from Pisa but oh, my heavenly Father ! I know that these contradictory events are permitted and guided by thy wis- iifth, which only is light. We are in darkness, and must be 1* 78 THE LIFE OF thankful that our knowledge is not wanted to perfect thj work and also keep in mind that infinite mercy which, in permitting the sufferings of the perishing body, has provided for our souls so large an opportunity of comfort and nourish- ment for an eternal life, where we shall assuredly find that all things have worked together for our good, for our sure trust in tkee. "Dec. 15. Finished reading the Testament through, which we began the 6th of October, and my Bible as far as Ezekiel, which I have always read to myself in rotation, but the lessons appointed in the prayer-book to my William. To-day, read him several passages in Isaiah, which he en- joyed so much that he was carried for a while out of his troubles indeed, our reading is an unfailing comfort. Wil- liam says he feels like a person brought to the light after many years of darkness, when he heard the Scriptures as the law of God, and therefore sacred, but not discerning what part he had in them or feeling that they were the fountain of eternal life. "Dec. 16. A heavy day; part of our service together, part alone. They have bolted us in to-night, expecting to find my William gone to-morrow, but he rests quietly, and God is with us. "Dec. 17 and 18. Melancholy days of combat with nature's weakness, and the courage of hope which pictured our removal from the lazaretto to Pisa. "Dec. 19. Arose with the light, and had every thing prepared for the anxious hour; at ten, all in readiness, and at eleven held the hand of my William, while he \ras seated on the arms of two men and conducted from the lazaretto to Filicchi's coach, surrounded by a multitude of gazers, all sighing out, ' pauverino,' while my heart beat almost to fainting, lest he should die in the exertion; but the air re- vived him; his spirits were cheerful; and through fifteem MRS. B. A. SETON. 7fi miles of heavy roads he was supported, and appeared stronger than when he set out. My Father and my God ! was all my full heart of thankfulness could utter. "Dec. 20. Let me stop and ask myself if I can go through the remainder of my memorandum with that sin- cerity and exactness which has so far been adhered to; whether, in the crowd of anxieties and sorrows which are pressed in so small a compass of time, the overflowing of feeling can be suppressed, and my soul stand singly before my God. Yes, every moment of it speaks his praise, and therefore it shall be followed. My William was composed the greater part of the day, on a sofa, delighted with his change of situation, taste and elegance of every thing around him; every necessary comfort within his reach. We read, compared past and present, talked of heavenly hopes, and with our dear Carlton, (who was to stay with us four days,) and then went to rest in hopes of a good night; but I had scarcely fixed the pillows of the sofa, which I made my bed, before he called me to help him, and from that moment, the last complaint, which Dr. Tutilli told me must be de- cisive, came on. "Dec. 21. A kind of languid weakness seized the mind as well as overpowered the body; he must and would ride. The physician, Dr. Cartelach, whispered me he might die in the attempt ; but there was no possibility of refusal, and it was concluded that opposition was worse than any risk and, carried down in a chair, and supported in my trembling arms with pillows, we rode. Oh, my Father, well did you strengthen me in that hour ! In five minutes we were forced to return, and to get him out of the coach, and in the chair up the stairs, and on the bed words can never tell "Dec. 22. A cloudy day and quiet. "Dec. 23. The complaint seemed lessened, and rid* 80 THE LIFE 01 again we must; took Madame De Tot (the lady of the house) with us, and returned in better spirits, and more able to help himself, than when we went out; and I really began to think riding must be good; but that was the last. "Dec. 24. Constant suffering, and for the first day con fined in bed; the disorder of the bowels so violent that ht said he could not last till morning; talked with cheerfulness about his darlings, thanked God that he had given him time to reflect and such consolation in his word and prayers; and, with the help of a small portion of laudanum, rested until midnight. He then awoke, and observed I had not laid down. I said, 'No, love, for the sweetest reflections keep m awake. Christmas day is begun ; the day of our dear Re- deemer's birth here, you know, is the day that opened to us the door of everlasting life.' 'Yes/ he said, 'and how I wish we could have the sacrament ! well, we must do all we can ;' and, putting a little wine in a glass, I said different parts of psalms and prayers which I had marked, hoping for a happy moment, and we took the cup of thanksgiving, setting aside the sorrow of time in the view of eternity. Oh, so happy to find its joys were strongly painted to him! On Sunday, O'Brien came, and my William gave me in his charge to take me home, with a composure and serenity that made us cold. Did not pass a mouthful through my lips that day, which was spent on my knees by his bedside, every mo- ment I could look off my William; he anxiously prayed to be released that day, and followed me in prayer whenever he had the least cessation from extreme suffering. "Dec. 26. Was so impatient to be gone that I could scarcely persuade him to wet his lips, but continued calling his Redeemer to pardon and release him. Afi he alwayi would have his door shut, I had no interruption. Carlton kept Anna out of the way; and every promise in the Scrip- tore and prayer I could remember I continually repeated MRS. E. A. SETON. 81 to kim, which seemed to be his only relief. When 1 stopped to give him any thing, 'Why do you do it? what do I want? I want to be in heaven pray, pray for my soul. He said he felt so comfortable an assurance that his Re- deemer would receive him that he saw his dear little Re- becca smiling before him; and told little Anna, 'Oh, if youi father could take you with him !' And at midnight, when the cold sweat came on, he would reach out both his arms, and aid repeatedly, 'You promised me you would go; come, come, fly !' At four, the hard struggle ceased : nature sank into a settled sob ' My dear wife and little ones/ and ' My Christ Jesus, have mercy and receive me,' was all I could distinguish; and again repeated, 'My Christ Jesus,' until a quarter past seven, when the dear soul took its flight to the blessed exchange it so much longed for. "I often asked him, when he could not speak, 'You feel, my love, that you are going to your Redeemer?' and he mo- tioned, ' Yes,' with a look of peace. At a quarter past seven on Tuewday morning, December 27, his soul was released and mine from a struggle next to death. And how will my dear sister understand, except you could conceive the scene of suffering my poor William passed through that I took my little Anna in my arms, and made her kneel again with me by the dear body, and thank our Heavenly Father for re- lieving him from his misery for the joyful assurance that, through our blessed Redeemer, he had entered into life eter- nal, and implored his protecting care and pity for us who nave yet to finish our course ? Now, opening the door to let the people know it was finished, servants and landlady all were at a loss to know what should be done ; and, finding very one afraid of catching the complaint, as we should b of the yellow fever, I took two women who had washed and sometimes assisted me, and, again shutting the door, with their assistance did the last duties, and felt I had done 82 THE LIFE Of all all that tenderest love and duty could do. My head had not rested for a week; three days and nights the fatigue had been incessant, and one meal in twenty-four hours; still I must wash, dress, pack up, and in one hour be in Mrs. Filicchi's carriage, and ride fifteen miles to Leghorn Carlton and our old Louis stayed to watch; and my William was brought in the afternoon, and deposited in the houst appointed, in the Protestant burying-ground. Oh ! oh ! oh : what a day! close his eyes, lay him out, ride a journey, be obliged to see a dozen people in my room till night, and at night crowded with the whole sense of my situation. Oh, my Father and my God ! The next morning at eleven, all the English and Americans in Leghorn met at the grave- house, and all was done. In all this, it is not necessary to dwell on the mercy and consoling presence of my dear Lord, for no mortal strength could support what I experienced. My William often asked me if I felt assured he would b accepted and pardoned; and I always tried to convince him that where the soul was so sincere as his, and submission to God's will so uniform as his had been throughout his trial, it became sinful to doubt one moment of his reception through the merits of his Redeemer. The night before his death, praying earnestly for him that his pardon might be sealed in heaven and his transgressions blotted out, after praying, I continued on my knees, laid my head on the chair by which I knelt, and insensibly lost myself. I saw in my slumber a little angel, with a pen in one hand and a sheet of white paper in the other; he looked at me, holding out the paper, and wrote in large letters ' JESUS.' This, though a vision of sleep, was a great comfort. He was very much affected when I told him, and said, a few hours before he died, ' The angel wrote, Jesus : he has opened the door of eternal life for me, and will cover me with his merits.' I had a similar dream the same night. The heavens appeared MBS. . A. SETON. 83 * very bright blue; a little angel at some distance held open a division in the sky. A large black bird, like an eagle, flew toward me, and flapped its wings round and made every thing dark. The angel looked as if it held up the division wait- ing for something the bird came for. And so, alone from every friend on earth, walking the 'valley of the shadow of death/ we had sweet comfort even in our dreams, while faith convinced us they were realities." Thus terminated for Mrs. Seton one of the severest triais that human infirmity is destined to encounter the death of her husband in a land of strangers, all her relatives and friends separated from her by the wide ocean, and unable to afford that solace which her bereavement so naturally called for. But her own relation of this painful event is quite sufficient to show that her fortitude was equal to the ordeal to which she was subjected, and that she exhibited in her affliction a strength of mind and a moral energy as rare as they are worthy of admiration. On the very day that her husband breathed his last, when she was on the way from the melancholy spot to the residence of Mr. Filicchi in Leg- horn, such was her entire resignation to the dispensations of Heaven, that "in her perpetual look upward she could enjoy in her silence of peace and deadly calmness the view of the beautiful country around." On her arrival at Leghorn, she was received in the Filic- chi family with every mark of the sincerest sympathy and the most unbounded generosity; "but," as she says, "my poor, high heart was in the clouds, soaring after my Wil- liam's scul, and repeating, 'My God, you are my God, and BO I am now alone in the world with you and my little ones; but you are my Father, and doubly theirs.'" The same day in the evening, she was kindly visited by the Rev. Mr. Hail, who officiated at the interment of Mr. Seton. Hi* first words to her were, " As the tree falls, madam, there it 84 THE LIFE Ot lies." Among those who called upon her, she makes par- ticular mention of the good old Capitano, who "came," sh says, "with a black crape on the hat and arm, and such a look of sorrow at his poor Signora all his kindness in th lazaretto was present. Dearest Anna melted his heart again, and he ours." The impression which Mrs. Seton made upon the mindi of those who had attended at the lazaretto and at Pisa, where her husband expired, and upon all indeed who formed her acquaintance, was of the most favorable character. We have seen already how cheerfully the officers and servants at the quarantine ministered to the wants of herself and her suffering husband ; but subsequently, when the vain fear of contagion prevented others from laying out the corpse of Mr. Seton, and she herself, with the assistance of her wash- woman, undertook this sad duty, the people around gazed at her with astonishment, admiring her courage and fortitude, and exclaiming, with more of good feeling than judgment, "If she was not a heretic she would be a saint." All, however, according to their circumstances, performed the part of friendship, which met with a corresponding grati- tude on the part of Mrs. Seton. " The Filicchis," she says in a letter to her sister-in-law, " do all they can to ease my situation, and seem, indeed, that they cannot do enough. Indeed, from the day we left home, we have met with nothing but kindness, even in servants and strangers." A few days after, she wrote to the same friend that her husband's sufferings and death had interested K> many persons in Leghorn, that she was as kindly treated and as much attended to, in regard to her health and the consolations which she needed, as if she were at home. "In- deed," she adds, "when I look forward to my unprovided situation, as it relates to the affairs of this life, I must often mile at their tenderness and precautions. Anna says, ' Oh, MRS. I. A SETON. 8ft mamma, how many friends God has provided for us in this itrange land ! for they are our friends before they know us ;' and who can tell how great a comfort he provided for me when he gave her to me?" To divert her mind from ita melancholy musings, and afford her an opportunity, during her brief stay in Italy, of extending her acquaintance with a country which abounded in so many curiosities of nature and of art, some of her friends induced her to accompany them to Florence. How she enjoyed the contemplation of the beautiful scenery around her, and the wonderful produc- tions of human genius in that city of elegance and taste, will be seen from the following description of her visit in her own words :* " Four days I have been at Florence, lodged in the famoui palace of Medici, which fronts the Arno and presents a view of the high mountains of Morelli, covered with ele- gant country-seats, and five bridges across the river, which are always thronged with people and carriages. On Sun- day, January 8, at 11 o'clock, I went with Mrs. Amabiliaf to the chapel La Santissima Anunziata. Passing through a curtain, my eye was struck with hundreds of persons kneel- ing ; but the gloom of the chapel, which is lighted only by the wax tapers on the altar, and a small window at the top darkened with green silk, made every object at first appear Tery indistinct, while that kind of soft and distant music which lifts the mind to a foretaste of heavenly pleasures called up in an instant every dear and tender idea of my soul, and, forgetting Mrs. A.'s company and all the surround- ing scene, I sank on my knees in the first place I found vacant, and shed a torrent of tears at the recollection of how Jong I had been a stranger in the house of my God, and th * This description is a journal which she prepared for the gratification f a beloved relative in America, f The wife of Mr. Anthony Filicchi, of Leghorn. 8 86 THE LIFE Of i accumulated sorrow that had separated me from it. I need not tell you that I said our dear service with my whole soul, as far as in its agitation I could recollect. When the organ ceased, and mass was over, we walked around the chapel. The elegance of the ceiling in carved gold, altars loaded with gold and silver and other precious ornaments; pictures of erery sacred subject, and the dome a continued representa- tion of different parts of Scripture : all this can never be conceived by description, nor my delight in seeing old men and old women, young women, and all sorts of people, kneel- ing promiscuously about the altar, as inattentive to us and other passers-by as if we were not there. On the other side of the church, another chapel presented a similar scene, but as another mass had begun, I passed on tip-toe behind Mrs. Filicchi, unable to look around, though every one is so in- tent upon their prayers and rosary that it is very immaterial what a stranger does. " While Mrs. Filicchi went to make visits, I visited the church of St. Firenze, and saw two more elegant chapels, but in a more simple style, and had the pleasure of treading the sacred place with two of its inhabitants, as a convent is also part of the building. I saw a young priest unlock his little chapel, with that composed and equal eye as if his soul had entered before him. My heart would willingly have followed after ; here was to be the best music, but at night, and no female could be admitted. " I rode to the queen's gardens, where I saw elms and firs, with hedges of yew and ivy in beautiful verdure, and cultivated fields, appearing like our advanced spring. In- deed, it was not possible to look without thinking, or to think without my soul's crying out for those it loves in hea- ven or on earth. Therefore I was forced to close my eyes and lean against the carnage as if asleep ; which the mild oies in bronze were beautiful ; but I, being only an Amer aan, could not look very straight at them. Innumerable curi- osities and antiquities surrounded us on all sides The By the treaty of Luneville, in 1801, Tuscany became 8 Vingdom nder the Prince of Parina, who was styled King of Etruria. Upon hii death, in 1803, bia widow, Maria Louisa, assumed the gore^inont, ai ijueen -regent during the minority of her son. 88 THE LIFE 07 sacred representations were sufficient to engage and interest all my attention, and, as the French had not been covetoui of those, I had the advantage of seeing them ; but felt th Toid of him who would have pointed out the beauties of everj object too much to enjoy any perfectly 'alone but half enjoyed.' My God ! Went to the church of San Lo- renzo, where a sensation of delight struck me so forcibly that I approached the great altar, formed all of the mosl precious stones and marbles that could be produced. * Mj soul doth magnify the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my *Saviour/ came into my mind with a fervor which absorbed every other feeling. It recalled the ideas of the offerings of David and Solomon to the Lord, when the rich and valuable productions of nature and art were devoted to his holy temple and sanctified to his service. Annexed to this is the chapel of marble, the beauty and work and richness of which might be supposed the production of more than mortal means, if its unfinished dome did not discover ite imperfections. It is the tomb of the Medici princes. Monuments of granite, golden crowns set with precious stones, the polish of the whole which reflects the different monuments as a mirror, and the awful black Cosmos who are represented on the top of the monuments as large as life, with their crowns and sceptres, made my poor weak head turn, and I believe, if it had been possible that 1 should have been alone there, it would never have turned back agai 7 !. I passed my evening again in my room with dear Anna. At half-past nine, Mr. C. took the trouble to oome for me, to attend the opera, that I might hear some wonderful trio, in which the celebrated David was to show all his excellence; and as it would be over at ten, and Mrs. F. so much desired it, I went with hat and veil, instead of the masks they all wore. The opera-house is so dark that you can hardly distinguish the person next to you MBS. E. A. 8ETON. 6 Anna thought the singers would go mad, and I could not find the least gratification in their quavers; felt the full conviction that those who could find pleasure in such a scene must be unacquainted with real pleasure. My Wil- liam had so much desired that I should hear this David, that I tried to be pleased ; but not one note touched my heart. At ten, I was relieved from the most unwilling exertion I had yet made, and returned wi-'h redoubled de- light to my pleasures, which were as the joys of heaven in comparison. "Tuesday, Jan. 10. I saw the church Santa Maria, and the queen's palace in which she resides. Every beauty that gold, damask of every variety, and India tapestry, can devise, embellished with fine statues, ceilings embossed with gold, elegant pictures, carpets, and floors inlaid with the most costly satin-woods, in beautiful patterns, tables inlaid with most precious orders of stone, all combined to make the palace of Pitti a pattern of elegance and taste. So say khe connoisseurs. For me, I am no judge, as says. A picture of the descent from the cross, nearly as large as life, engaged my whole soul; Mary at the foot of it ex- pressed well that the iron had entered into hers, and the shades of death over her agonized countenance so strongly contrasted the heavenly peace of the dear Redeemer that it seemed as if his pains had fallen on her. How hard it was to leave that picture, and how often, in the few hours' interval since I have seen it, I shut my eyes, and recall it in imagination ! Abraham and Isaac are also represented in so expressive a manner that you feel the whole con- vulsion of that patriarch's breast ; and well for me that, in viewing those two pictures, my companions were engaged with other subjects the dropping tears could be hid, but the staking of the whole frame not so easily. Dear sister, 8* K THE LIFE 0V you Lad your sigh, in reflecting how truly you would enjoj them. " Wednesday, Jan. 11. This morning I have indeed enjoyed, in the anatomical museum and cabinet of natural history. The work of the almighty hand in every object the anatomica. rooms displaying nature in every division of the human frame is almost too much for human nature to support. Mine shrank from it; but, recalling the idea of my God in all I saw, though so humiliating and painful to the view, still it was congenial to every feeling of my soul ; and as my companion T. has an intelligent mind and excel- lent heart, which for the time entered into my feelings, I passed through most of the rooms uninterrupted in the sacred reflections they inspired. The pleasures to be en- joyed in the cabinet of natural history would require the attention of at least a month. In the short time I was allowed, I enjoyed more than I could have obtained in years out of my own cabinet of precious things. If I was allowed to choose an enjoyment from the whole theatre of human nature, it would be to go over those two hours again, with iny dear brother Post as my companion. I visited the gar- dens called Boboli, belonging to the queen's residence ; was well exercised in running up flights of steps in the style of hanging gardens, and sufliciently repaid by the view of the environs of Florence and the many varieties of beautiful evergreens with which this country abounds, and which prevent the possibility of reflecting that it is winter, ex- cept the cold and damp of their buildings remind you of it. If the Tuscans are to be judged by their taste, they arc a happy people, for every thing without is very shabby, and within elegant. The exterior of their best buildings is, to appearance, in a state of ruin. I saw also the Academy of Sculpture and the Botanical Garden." From these memoranda of Mrs. Seton's visit to Florence, MRS. E. A. SETON. 91 it if plain that she found in the curiosities of that city not only a source of rational enjoyment, but a subject of reli- gious meditation. The sacred places inspired her with reverence, and raised her heart to God ; the gorgeous decora- tions of his temples reminded her of that infinite grandeur and excellence to which every thing should be consecrated ; the scriptural paintings carried her soul back with the live- liest emotions to the very scenes which they commemo- rated ; even the productions of a purely secular art elevated her thoughts above the world. With a mind so intelligent, and so directed to spiritual reflection, she was prepared to receive the happiest impressions from the Catholic associa- tions she had formed in Italy. BOOK m. Mrs. Seton's inquiry on the subject of religion Efforts to enlighten her Her sentiments and impressions Departure for America Disap- pointment and sickness Her admiration of Catholicity Visit to her husband's grave The Messrs. Filicchi Mrs. Seton leaves Italy Sen- timents during the voyage Arrival in New York Death of Miss Re- becca Seton Mrs. Seton opposed in her religious views The main point insisted on by Mr. Filicchi Combatted by Dr. Hobart His abili- ties and standingArguments Situation of Mrs. Seton's mind Danger of her faith Efforts of Mr. Anthony Filicchi Consults Bishop Carroll Mrs. Seton's interior struggles Counsel and instruction of Mr. P. Filicchi Mrs. Seton's trials and sentiments Her resolution- Letter of Bishop Carroll The final determination Abjuration of Pro- teatanti ant Fervor in approaching the sacraments. IT is but natural to infer from the excellent qualities of Mrs. Seton, and particularly from her religious spirit and sincerity of heart, that she would become an object of cha- ritable zeal among her new friends, and would herself be 92 THE LIFE Of inclined to seek information respecting a church the obserr an.-.es of which were now so prominently brought to her at- tention. The Catholic family whose generous hospitality sh njoyed did not hesitate to avail themselves of every favor- able opportunity to enlighten her on so important a subject. To some question which she proposed to Mr. Filicchi, re- specting the difference of religions, he replied that there wag but one true religion, and without a right faith no one could be acceptable to God. "Oh my, sir," replied Mrs. Seton, "if there is but one faith, and nobody pleases God without it, where are all the good people who die out of it ?" " I don't know," answered her friend ; " that depends on what light of faith they had received ; but I know where people go, who can know the right faith, if they pray and inquire for it, and yet do neither." " Much as to say, sir, you want me to pray and inquire, and be of your faith?" said Mrs. Seton, laughing. " Pray and inquire," he added; "that ia all I ask of you." While she was at Florence, Mr. Anthony Filicchi urged upon her the duty of investigating the ques- tion in the following words : "Your dear William was the early friend of my youth. You are now come in his room. Your soul is even dearer to Antonio, and will be so forever May the good, Almighty God enlighten your mind and strengthen your heart, to see and follow in religion the surest, true way to the eternal blessings. I shall call for you. I must meet you in para- dise, if it is decreed that the vast plains of the ocean shall soon be betwixt us. Don't discontinue, in the meanwhile, to pray; to knock at the door." In order the more effectually to remove the erroneous views of Christianity which she had derived from education, her friends placed in her hands roitable books for her instruction, and made her acquainted with a learned Jesuit of Leghorn, who took a lively interest La her welfare. In a letter to one of her relatives, she thui MRS. E. A. SETON. 93 amiably alludes to this circumstance : " I am hard pushed by these charitable Komans, who wish that so much good- ness should be improved by a conversion, which to effect they have even taken the trouble to bring me their best-in- formed priest, Abbe" Plunkett, who is an Irishman; but they find me so willing to hear their enlightened conversation, that consequently, as learned people like to hear themselves best, I have but little to say, and as yet keep friends with all, as the best comment on my profession." At first, Mrs. Seton little imagined that there was a more secure way to heaven than that which she had been taught to follow; but to a person of her intelligence and uprightness the crude- ness of Protestantism could not but suggest its character of uncertainty, and she therefore prayed to God that, if she had not the happiness of being in the way that was pleasing to him, he would graciously lead her into the right path. She daily implored the divine light and assistance, repeating, in the words of Pope : *" If I am right, thy grace impart Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To find the better way !" The grace of God was not wanting. It gradually un- folded to her view the superior claims of Catholicity, the truth and consolations of its faith. In entering a Catholic onurch, she felt an impression of awe that she had never ex- perienced in a Protestant place of worship; and the follow- ing incident will show how her mind, under the influence of a heavenly light, began to penetrate through the mists which had clouded her religious views. Having accompanied her friends to the church of Montanero, in a lovely part of the country where Mr. Filicchi had been once concealed by the inmates of the convent during some political revolution, 94 THJi LIFE Of they wore invited to hear mass in their chapel. During thi service, at the very moment of the elevation of the sacred Host, a young Englishman who was present observed to Mrs. Seton : u This is what they call their real presence." %> My very heart," she says, " trembled with pain and sorrow for his unfeeling interruption of their sacred adoration; for all around was dead silence, and many were prostrated. Involun- tarily I bent from him to the pavement, and thought secretly on the words of St. Paul, with starting tears, ' they discern not the Lord's body;' and the next thought was, how should they eat and drink their own damnation for not discerning it, if indeed it is not there? And how did he breathe my soul into me? and how, and how a hundred other things I know nothing about? I am a mother; so the mother's thought came also. How was my God a little babe in the first stage of his mortal existence in Mary ? But I lost these thoughts in my babes at home, which I daily longed for more and more." By the dispensation of Providence, the ardent desire of Mrs. Seton to be reunited to her family in America was not to be realized as soon as she expected. On the 3d of Feb- ruary, she and her daughter embarked for their native coun- try in the same vessel which had conveyed them to Italy. "We had parted," she says, " with our most kind friends, loaded with their blessings and presents; I with gold and passports and recommendations, for fear of Algerines or necessity to put in any of the Mediterranean ports; but all that in vain. A driving storm at night struck the /essel against another, and in the morning, instead of hoisting sail for America, we were obliged to return on shore; most kindly, indeed, welcomed by the Filicchis, but heart down enough at the disappointment; and imagine the rest, when our sweetest Anna, unable to hide her suffering, was found in high fever, covered with eruptions, which the doctor pro> MRS. . A. SETON. 95 mranced scarlet." Notwithstanding the illness of her child, Mrs. Seton would have ventured upon the voyage with the first fair wind, and trusted the issue to God; but as the pros- pects of the vessel would have been injured by sickness among the passengers, she was obliged to remain at Leghorn. On returning from the vessel, she and her daughter had been conducted by Mr. Anthony Filicchi to his residence, where they were welcomed with unbounded kindness and hospi- tality, and invited to remain until their departure for Ame- rica. After the recovery of Miss Anna Seton from her ill- ness, which lasted three weeks, her mother was seized with the same complaint, which confined her for the same period to her room. During all this time, the most devoted atten- tions were bestowed upon them by their Italian friends, who displayed, in their regard, a brilliant example of Christian charity. " Oh, the patience," exclaims Mrs. Seton, " and more than human kindness of these dear Filicchis for us ! Tou would say it was our Saviour himself they received in his poor and sick strangers." Thus detained in the midst of a family equally pious and enlightened, she possessed every facility of becoming intimately acquainted with the doctrines and consolations of the Catholic faith, and her let- ters show that she did not neglect this valuable opportunity " How happy would we be," she writes to a friend, " if we believed what these dear souls believe that they possess Gki in the sacrament, and that he remains in their churches, and is carried to them when they are sick ! Oh, my ! when they carry the blessed sacrament under my window, while I feel the full loneliness and sadness of my case, I cannot stop the tears at the thought. My God ! how happy I would be, aven so far away from all so dear, if I could find you in the church as they do, (for there is a chapel in the very house of Mr. Filicchi,) how many things I would say to you of the lorrows of my heart and the sins of my life ! Th< .ther day, 96 THE LIVE 0V in a moment of excessive distress, I fell on my knees, with- out thinking, when the blessed sacrament passed by, and cried in an agony to God to bless me if he was there; that my whole soul desired only him. A little prayer-book of Mrs. Filicchi's was on the table, and I opened a little prayer of St. Bernard to the Blessed Virgin, begging her to be OTU mother; and I said it to her, with such a certainty that God *would refuse nothing to his mother, and that she could not help loving and pitying the poor souls he died for, that I felt really I had a mother; which you know my foolish heart so often lamented to have lost in early days. From the first remembrance of infancy, I have always looked, in all the plays of childhood and wildness of youth, to the clouds foi my mother; and at that moment it seemed as if I had fjund more than her, even in tenderness and pity of a mother. So I cried myself to sleep on her heart." On another occasion she writes to the same relative, exhibiting the progress of her mind in the knowledge of religious truth : " This even- ing, standing by the window, the moon shining full on Fi- licchi's countenance, he raised his eyes to heaven, and showed me how to make the sign of the cross. Dearest Rebecca, I was cold with the awful impression my first making it gave me. The sign of the cross of Christ on me! Deepest thoughts came with it of I know not what earnest desires to be closely united with him who died on it of that last day when he is to bear it in triumph; and, did you notice, my dear one, the letter T, with which the angel is to mark us on the forehead, is a cross. All the Catholic religion is fall of those meanings, which interest me so. fWhy, Rebecca, thy believe all we do and suffer, if we offer it for our sins, servef to expiate them. You may remember, when I asked Mr Hobart what was meant by fasting, in our prayer-book, at I found myself on Ash- Wednesday morning saying so fool ishly to Go i, I turn to you in fasting, weeping, and mourn MRS. . A. 8ETCN. 07 ing/ and I had come to church with a hearty breakfast of buckwheat-cakes and coffee, and full of life and spirits, with little thought of my sins, you may remember what he said about its being old customs, &c. Well, the dear Mrs. Fi- Jicchi, who I am with, never eats, this season of Lent, till after the clock strikes three. Then the family assemble, and ehe says, she offers her weakness and pain of fasting for her gins, united with her Saviour's sufferings. I like that very much ; but, what I like better, dearest Rebecca, only think what a comfort, they go to mass here every morning. Ah ! how often you and I used to give the sigh, and you would press your arm in mine, of a Sunday evening, and say, ' No more until next Sunday/ as we turned from the church door which closed on us, (unless a prayer day was given out in the week.) Well, here they go to church at four every morning, if they please. And you know how we were laughed at for running from one church to another, sacra- ment Sundays, that we might receive as often as we could; well, here people that love God and lead a good, regular life, can go (though many do not do it yet they can go) every day. *0h, my ! I don't know how anybody can have any trouble in this world who believes all these dear soula believe. If / don't believe it, it shall not be for want of praying. Why, they must be as happy as angels, almost." Such was the lofty and just appreciation which Mrs. Seton formed of Catholic truth. In her new acquaintances at Leg- horn she found not only the most generous friends, who did all that the most tender affection could devise to render her situation agreeable, but most intelligent and edifying mem- bers of the Church, whose conversation and example inspired her with the highest admiration for its faith and observances. In their company she would visit the sacred places, where she united with devotion in the different ceremonies of the Ctureh, and poured forth her soul in fervent prayer. The 9 % 98 THE LIFE Of grace vouchsafed to her by the Spirit of truth would have led her at once to a formal retractation of Protestantism, had not her immediate departure from Italy prevented her from taking this step. In these sentiments she was about to em- bark for her native land. She could not, however, bid adieu to the country where the remains of her husband reposed without having paid a last tribute of affection to his memory. On the other hand, her heart expanded with joy at the pros- pect of being soon reunited to her family across the Atlan- tic. She thus expresses her feelings on this subject in a let- ter to her sister-in-law : " Once more shall I hold my dear ones in my arms ! Heavenly Father ! what an hour will that be, my dear, fatherless children fatherless to the world, but rich in God, their Father, for he will never leave us or for- sake us. I have been to my dear Seton's grave, and wept plentifully over it, with the unrestrained affection which the last sufferings of his life, added to remembrance of former years, had made almost more than human. When you read my daily memorandums since I left home, you will feel what my love has been, and acknowledge that God alone could ""support it by his assistance through such proofs as have been required of it." As the time of her departure for home drew near, the more lively was the joy she experienced. The following sentiments were written by her a few days before she left Italy : " Oh ! joy, joy ! Capt. B will take us to America: and only think of Mr. Filicchi's goodness. As this captain is a very young man and a stranger, and many things of war or danger might happen on the voyage, Mr. Filicchi will make it with us. Anna is wild with joy; yet often she whispers me: ' Ma, are there no Catholics in America? Ma, wont we go to the Catholic church when we go home ?' Sweet darling, she is now out, visiting some of the blessed places with Mr. Filicchi's children and theii governess. Would you believe, whenever we go to walk. MRS. E. A. SETON. 99 we go first in some church or convent-chapel as we pass, which we always foresee by a large cross before it, and say some little prayers before we go farther. Men do it as well as women. You know with us a man would be ashamed to be seen kneeling, especially of a week-day. Oh, my ! but I sliall be with you again : two days more and we start for home ! This mild heavenly evening puts me in mind when BO often you and I stood, or rather leaned on each other, looking at the setting sun ; sometimes silent tears and sighs for that home where sorrow cannot come. Alas ! how may I perhaps find mine ? sorrow plenty. I was speaking of it the other evening to Filicchi, and he said, in his dry English, 1 ' My little sister, God the Almighty is laughing at you. He takes care of little birds and makes the lilies grow, and you fear he will not take care of you. I tell you he will take care of you.' So I hope, dearest Rebecca ; you know that we used to envy them that were poor, because they had no- thing to do with the world." To crown all his acts of kindness to Mrs. Seton, and through regard for her husband, whom he had numbered among his cherished friends, Mr. Anthony Filicchi resolved to accompany her to the United States. A desire to see the country, and to attend personally to certain matters of busi- ness, had long made a visit to the New "World an object of interest to him ; but he was decided to undertake the voyage by the opportunity now presented of becoming a protector to Mrs. Seton. "We will here remark that the Messrs. Filic- chi, of Leghorn, were gentlemen of the highest standing in mercantile life, accomplished members of society, and orna- ments of the religion they professed; and they deserve honor- able mention in the biography of Mrs. Seton, not only for the generous friendship which they extended to her and her husband, but also on account of the important part which they bore in her conversion. They were men of noble im- 100 THE LIFE OF pulses and cultivated minds ; and, although actively and ex- tensively engaged in commercial pursuits, were not less the practical advocates of religion. The elder brother was re- markable for his round judgment and extensive knowledge, and had enjoyed the especial confidence of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who consulted him on all questions of commerce. Christians in thr full sense of the word, they felt a lively in- terest in the spiritual enlightenment of Mrs. Seton, who had become an object of their care, while they possessed the ability to guide her in the investigation of religious truth, and to remove much of the difficulty that was thrown in the way of her conversion. To aid her in this important work, Mr. Philip Filicchi had furnished her with books, and also with a manuscript from his own pen, containing a summary of Catholic faith and a brief exposition of the grounds on which it rests. This document, to which we shall refer more particularly in the seqael, may compare, in point of method and solidity, with the writings of our eminent con- troversialists, and reflects the highest honor upon his talents, learning, and zeal for religion. Mrs. Seton having left us, in the form of a journal, the particulars of her departure from Leghorn, we will give the relation of those incidents in her own words : " The 8th of April, at half past four in the morning, my dear brother came to my room to awaken my soul to all its dearest hopes and anticipations. The heaven was bright with stars, the wind fair, and the Flamingo's signal expected to call us on board ; meanwhile the telling of the bell called OB to mass, and in a few minutes we were prostrate in the presence of God. Oh, my soul, how solemn was that offer* ing ! for a blessing on our voyage for my dear ones, my sisters, and all so dear to me and, more than all, for the souls of my dear husband and father earnestly our desires ascended with the blessed sacrifice, that they might find MRS. . A. BETON. 101 acceptance through Him who gave himself for us; earnestly we desired to be united with Him, and would gladly en- counter all the sorrows before us to be partakers of that blessed body and blood. Oh, my God, spare and pity me. "We returned home with hearts full of many sensations; on my part, sorrow at parting with the friends who had been BO kind to me and the dear little angels I tenderly love Itruggled with the joy of once more embarking for home ; while I gave dear Amabilia a farewell embrace in the bal- cony the sun rose bright and glorious, and called our thoughts to that hour when the Sun of Righteousness would rise and reunite us forever. " The signal had been given, the waterman waited for us, and my dear brother passed the struggle like a man and a Christian j dear, manly soul, it indeed appeared to me in the ' image of God.' " Philip Filicchi and Carl ton waited for us at the Health Office, and letters for America. " Filicchi's last blessing to me was as his whole conduct had been that of the truest friend. Oh, Filicchi, you shall not witness against me. May God bless you forever, and may you shine as the ' stars in glory' for what you have done for me ! " At eight o'clock, was quietly seated with little Ann and dear Antonio, on the quarter-deck. The anchor weighed, Bails hoisted, and dear ' yo, yo !' resounding on all sides, brought to remembrance the 2d of October, 1803, with a force as strong as could be borne : most dear Seton, where are you now ? I lose sight of the shore that contains your dear ashes, and your soul is in that region of immensity where I cannot find you. My Father and my God ! and yet [ must always love to retrospect thy wonderful dispensations : to be sent so many thousand miles on so hopeless an errand; to be constantly supported and accompanied by thy consoling 102 THE LIFE OF mercy through scenes of trial which nature alone must have sunk under; to be brought to the light of thy truth, nut- withstanding every affection of my heart and power of mj will was opposed to it ; to be succored and cherished by the tenderest friendship, while separated and far from those thai I loved : my Father and my God, while I live let me praL< while I have my being let me serve and adore thee. l4) During the voyage to America, which occupied fifty-six days, Mrs. Seton conversed frequently with Mr. Filicchi on the superiority of Catholicity over Protestantism, and found manifest pleasure in uniting with him in the exterior prac- tices of religion, as prayer, fasting, and the observance of the festivals. A portion of her time was daily allotted to the reading of the lives of the saints. By these holy exercises did she endeavor to obtain an increase of divine grace, and to fortify herself for the conflict she was about to endure. If she looked forward with joy to the happiness of again embracing her children, her soul shuddered at the prospect of the opposition which her newly-acquired sentiments on religion were about to excite against her. It was plain, however, that, although she dreaded the contest, she was not disheartened, because she knew that in the event of her joining the Catholic church she would be richly compen sated for any loss of worldly friends by the peace and com- fort which the consciousness of duty would impart. Her chief source of anxiety in this respect seems to have pro- ceeded from the intimate friendship that existed between her and the Rev John Henry Hobart, her Protestant pastor, who subsequently was mad 3 bishop of the Episcopal Church in the State of New York. While on her way home, the anticipation of losing his esteem and severing the tie that had so long united her to him presented itself with a sad- dening influence to her mind " As I approach to you/' sh MRS. E. A. SETON. 103 says, "I tremble; and while the dashing of the waves and their incessant motion picture to me the allotment which God has given me, the tears fall fast through my fingers at the insupportable thought of being separated from you; and yet, my dear H., you will not be severe ; you will re- spect sincerity, and though you will think me in error, and even reprehensible, in changing my religion, I know thai heavenly Christian charity will plead for me in your affec- tions You have certainly, without my knowing it, been dearer to me than God, for whom my reason, my judgment, and my conviction, used their combined force against the value of your esteem. The combat was in vain, until I con- sidered that yourself would no longer oppose, or desire so severe a struggle which was destroying my mortal life, and, more than that, my peace with God. Still, if you will not be my brother if your dear friendship and esteem must be the price of my fidelity to what I believe to be the truth, I cannot doubt the mercy of God, who, by depriving me of my dearest tie on earth, will certainly draw me nearer to him ; and this I feel confidently from the experience of the past, and the truth of his promise, which can never fail." While Mrs. Seton thus prepared herself for the opposition which she had reason to expect in consequence of the changa in her religious sentiments, another severe trial awaited her on her arrival in America. She landed at New York, in company with her daughter and Mr. Filicchi, on the 4th of June, when she discovered that Miss Rebecca Seton, her gister-in-law, whose virtues had rendered her an object of unbounded admiration, was on the verge of the grave. She thus expresses the mingled feelings of joy and sadness which ghe experienced in being again united to her family : "June 4, 1804. Do I hold again my dear ones in my bosom ? has God restored all my treasure, even the little soul F have so long contemplated an angel in heaven 'I Nature 104 THE LIFE Of cries out they are fatherless, while God himself replies, ' 1 am the Father of the fatherless and the helper of the help- less.' My God, well may I cling to thee, for whom have I in heaven but thee, and whom upon earth beside thee ? My heart and flesh fail, but thou art the strength of my heart and my portion forever. " My soul's sister came not out to meet me. She too had been journeying fast to her heavenly home ; her spirit now seemed only to await the consoling love and tenderness of her beloved sister to accompany it in its passage to eternity; to meet her who had been the dear companion of all the pains and all the comforts, of songs of praise and notes of sorrow ; the dear, faithful, tender friend of my soul through every varied scene of many years of trial, gone only the shadow remaining, and that in a few days must pass away ! The home of plenty and comfort, the society of sisters united by prayers and divine affections, the evening hymns, the daily readings, the sunset contemplations, the service of holydays together, the kiss of peace, the widow's visits all, all gone forever ! And is poverty and sorrow the only ex- change ? My husband, my sister, my home, my comforts poverty and sorrow. Well, with God's blessing, you too shall be changed into dearest friends. To the world you show your outward garments, but through them you discover to my soul the palm of victory, the triumph of faith, and the sweet footsteps of my Redeemer, leading direct to his king- dom; then let me gently meet you, be received in your bosom, and be daily conducted by your counsels through the remainder of my destined journey. I know that many divine graces accompany your faith, and change the stings of penance for ease of conscience, and the solitude of the desert for the society of angels. The angels of God accompanied the faithful when the light of his truth only dawned in the world. And now that the day-spring from on high hai MBS. E. A. 8ETON. 105 nsited aud exalted our nature to a union with the Divinity, will these beneficent beings be less associated or delighted to dwell with the soul that is panting for heavenly joys and longing to join in their eternal alleluiahs ? Oh, no ! I will imagine them always surrounding me, and in every moment will sing with them, ' Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts ? heaven and earth are full of thy glory.' " On the 18th of the following month, death deprived Mrs. Seton of this cherished friend. Speaking of the event, she says : " This is my Rebecca's birthday in heaven. No more watching now, my darling sister no more agonizing suffer- ings. The hourly prayers, interrupted by pains and tears, are now exchanged for the eternal alleluiah. The blessed angels, who have so often witnessed our feeble efforts, now teach your soul the songs of Sion. Dear, dear soul, we shall no more watch the setting sun on our knees, and sigh our soul to the Sun of Righteousness, for he haa received you to his everlasting light ; no more sing praises gazing on the moon, for you have wakened to eternal day ; that dear voice, that soothed the widow's heart, admonished the forgetful soul, inspired the love of God, and only uttered sounds of love and peace to all, shall now be heard no more among us; but the reward of those who lead others to righteousness now crowns his promise who has said, ' They shall shine aa the stars forever.' " Indoctrinated as Mrs. Seton was in the principles of the Catholic faith, she could not witness the death of one even so beloved and so remarkable for her religious spirit as her sis ter-in-law, without being struck with the contrast between the empty resources of Protestantism, and the superior ad- vantages of Catholicity, in soothing the last and most trying hour of existence. In a letter to a friend at Leghorn,* after * Mrs. Amabilia FUicchi, wife of the gentleman who had accompanied Mr*. Seton from Italy, 106 THE LIFE OP Mentioning the demise of Miss Rebecca Seton, she adds : " Not to stop on all that, which at last is all in order, fine* it is the will of our God, I will tell you what I know you have at heart to know, that the impressions of your example, and the different scenes I passed through in Leghorn, are fa? from heing effaced from my mind, which indeed could not, even in the most painful moments of attendance on my be loved Rebecca, help the strong comparison of a sick and dying bed in your happy country, where the poor sufferer i* soothed and strengthened at once by every help of religion, where the one you call the father of your soul attends and watches it in the weakness and trials of parting nature, with the same care you and I watch our little infant's body in ite first struggles and wants on its entrance into life. Dearesl Rebecca, how many looks of silent distress have we exchanged about this last passage this exchange of time for eter- nity ! To be sure, her uncommon piety and innocence, and sweet confidence in God, are my full consolation ; but I mean to say, that a departing soul has so many trials and tempta- tions, that, for my part, I go through a sort of agony never to be described, even while to keep up their hope and courage I appear to them most cheerful. Oh my ! forgive these melan- choly words; they were here before I knew it. Your day and mine will come too if we are but ready ! The children all asleep this my time of many thoughts." Though the loss of relatives and friends, endeared to her by the strongest ties of affection, was a severe affliction to the heart of Mrs. Seton, she had to pass through an ordeal far more painful to nature. The time had now arrived for long and difficult struggle between the artifices of error on the one hand and the inspirations of divine grace on the other. On her leaving Leghorn, Mr. Philip Filicchi gave her a letter of introduction to the Rt. Rev Dr. Carroll, then MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 107 Bishop of Baltimore, whose acquaintance he had formed in America, hoping that, by the advice and instruction of that distinguished prelate, the religious impressions she had re- ceived in Italy would be brought to a happy maturity. H thus speaks of Mrs. Seton : " Having remarked that sh added to all her other good qualities a very pious and reli- gious disposition, in a degree far superior to what I ever had observed in people of her persuasion, having considered the exactness with which she fulfilled the duties of wife and mother, and having been led to presume in her character an uncommon docility, I was struck with the idea that Provi- dence had arranged the plan of her voyage to Italy for the particular purpose of giving her an opportunity of rectifying the prejudices entertained against our religion, of enlighten- ing her mind, and of granting her the blessing of discover- ing the true Church and being made a member of it. While I indulged this hope and considered in discreet silence all these things, she discovered to me that I was not de- ceived." After stating that she requested him to give her every information on the subject, he adds : " I seconded her views with pleasure and awe with pleasure for the good I hoped from it, and awe for my unworthiness in executing such an office ; for want of ability and learning I was 4 encouraged by the consideration that Providence often employs feeble instruments, that its own power and glory may shine the more. I gave her all the information I could; my words seemed to conquer her natural prejudices and enlighten her understanding. To supply the defects of my knowledge, I procured for her the best books I couli find, and particularly Bossuet's Exposition of the Catholic Doctrine. I recommended her to pray and to consult those who had a mission to instruct. I promised her to solicit your charity for affording her the instructions I was not able to give, for regulating her conduct and conciliating with her JOS THE LIFE OF duty as a Christian that regard which the particular circum stances of her situation may require. All this I solicit from your goodness in her favor, and for the honor of Him who has called you to feed part of his sheep." Had Mrs. Seton consulted without delay the distinguished prelate who then presided over the Catholic Church in the United States, she would probably have been spared much of the doubt and perplexity which soon took possession of her mind. But, unfortunately, she had been advised by Mr Filicchi to inform her Protestant pastor and friends of her objection to their communion; and her observance of this advice, although prompted by the best motives, necessarily excited against her better views of religion a storm of oppo- sition calculated to shake her firmness, if not altogether to withdraw her from the path on which she had entered. She had been justly led, by the instructions of Mr. Filicchi and the books which she had perused, to consider the Protestant religion as the offspring of human passion, and possessing no power or ministry from Christ. It had been the aim of her friends in Italy to impress chiefly on her mind that funda- mental article of Christianity, that the Church alone is the depositary of revealed truth, and commissioned by her Divine Founder to guide man in the way of salvation. In the manu- script which Mr. Filicchi placed in her hands, as we have already stated, he dwells principally on this important point. After stating the doctrine of the Church, as contained in the creed of Pope Pius IV., he observes : " The above profession contains all our belief. I do not decline making appropriate observations upon its various parts, though, if one point were well understood, the discussion of all the others would be unnecessary; I mean the authority of the Church to inter- pret the sense of the Scriptures. I shall therefore begin with this; and, after some brief remarks on the remaining points, will refer you for a better explanation of them to the booki MBS. E. A. SETON. 109 I have given you. Truth does not fear discussion; but truth can only be made manifest by the grace of God, which is only granted to the humble of heart, to those who seek it sin- cerely, who do not depend on their own light and knowledge for the finding of it, who pray to obtain it, and who do not seek it through a vain curiosity. Herod was curious to see a miracle wrought by Jesus Christ; but his curiosity was not gratified.* 'Ask, and it shall be given unto you,' says our Lord.f ' Wo unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight !' exclaims Isaias. | After this short exhortation respecting the means you must adopt to be made worthy of knowing the truth and the dangers you are to avoid in the search of it, I come to the point in question." After remarking that Protestants and Catholics both agree in asserting the obligation of believing whatever is contained in the Old and New Testament, he continues his argument in this form. " If we are bound to believe, we must know what is entitled to our belief. Who will teach as this science ? * The Bible, without an authorized inter- preter, cannot do it, since they who appeal only to this source are divided into a thousand jarring sects. The Bible must be legitimately expounded. Hence, our Saviour not only imposed the obligation of believing, but established a Church, for the purpose of guarding and transmitting his holy faith. Protestants themselves admit this. But where is that Church that Christ established, as the pillar and groand of truth ? It is not the Protestant Episcopal Church, for this dates its commencement only from the sixteenth cen- tury, whereas the Church of Christ is coeval with the apos- tolic age. It is indeed pretended that the reformers merely rejected the errors that had been introduced into the Church; but, in this case, it is plain that either St. Paul and Christ Lake iii 8 f Lake xi. 9. J Isaiah v. 21. 10 110 THE LIFE Of himself were deceived when they pronounced the Chureli to be the pillar of truth and unwavering in its faith to the end of time, or the Protestant Episcopal sect is in error." This reasoning, which leads to the conclusion that the Ca- tholic Church is the authority established by Christ, as the herald of his doctrine, is lucidly developed, and followed by a brief vindication of the several points contained in the creed of Pius IV. Mrs. Seton having been led to abandon her early views of religion by her conviction of the unfounded pretensions of the Protestant Episcopal Church, all the efforts of her friends at home were directed to the removal of this im- pression, and every possible influence was exerted to effect a change in her sentiments. The Rev. Mr. Hobart, already mentioned, was the most active in endeavoring to move her from the position she had taken ; and, if we consider the talents and address which he had at his command, she could not have met with a more formidable opponent. He was a man of amiable character and practical ability, active and unwearied in the duties of his profession, and enjoyed a high reputation as a preacher. "He had all the mental and moral qualities which make men leaders of their fellows. Undaunted, ready, and sagacious, he never abandoned a principle, deserted a friend, or quailed before an enemy. ' The Church needs no abler representative,' remarked a lawyer, who had heard him in debate; 'he has all the talents of a leader j he is the most parliamentary speaker I ever met with ; he is equally prompt, logical, and practical. I never saw that man thrown off his centre.'"* From these qualities of Mr. Hobart we may infer that all the resources that Protestantism could command, were brought to bear igainat Mrs. Seton's preferences for Catholicity. Add to Wilbwforce, Hitt. of Prot. Epite. Ch*trch tn. America, ch. ix. MBS. E. A. SETON. Ill this, that tlie most intimate friendship, as we have seen, had existed between her and the popular, talented minister of Trinity Church. In order to wean her from her newly- acquired sentiments on religion, he undertook to refute the doctrinal treatise of Mr. Filicchi ; and in a long letter which he addressed to her, he made an elaborate attempt to vindi- cate the claims of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and to prove that the Catholic Church had fallen into error, and was unworthy of obedience. (5) In the conflict of mind which this discussion produced, she at first determined, in accordance with the advice of Mr. Filicchi, to apply for instruction to Bishop Carroll j and with this view she penned the following communica tion, which forms a succinct history of the matter up to that period : "REV. SIR: " The enclosed letter from Mr. Filicchi will acquaint you with the motive which leads me to take the liberty of ad- dressing you. He has indeed most kindly befriended me, in endeavoring to enlighten and instruct my mind. The first impression I received from him, that I was in error and in a church founded on error, startled my soul, and decided ine to make every inquiry on the subject. The books he put into my hands gave me an entire conviction that the Protestant Episcopal Church was founded only on the prin- ciples and passions of Luther, and consequently that it waj separated from the church founded by our Lord and hia apostles, and its ministers without a regular succession from them. Shocked at the idea of being so far from the truth, a determination of quitting their communion and uniting myself with yours became the earnest desire of my soul, which, accustomed to rely supremely on divine grace, was easily satisfied on thoso points of difference and peon* 112 THE LIFE Or liarity in your Church, when it was once persuaded that it was the true one. Under these impressions it remained until my arrival in New York. It was my friend Filicchi'a wish, and a respect due to those pastors and friends from whom I had received my first principles and affe tions, to state my objections tc their communion ; but I assure you that in the belief of those first objects I mentioned, (that they proceeded from Luther, and were without a regular succession from Christ and his apostles,) I felt my soul so determined that it appeared a wicked insincerity to give them any hope of changing me ; when to my great astonish- ment they give me the most positive testimony that I have been deceived in those points. You will naturally observe to me, that I must have expected an opposition where par- ties are opposed. Certainly ; and had the opposition rested on transubstantiation or any point of faith, be assured that my faith would not have stopped at any point that your Church has yet proposed to me. But in the decided testi- monies that are given me by the clergy of the Protestant Episcopal Church, that they are a true church, I acknow- ledge that the foundation of my Catholic principles is de- stroyed, and I cannot see the necessity for my making a change. It is necessary to inform you that I have felt iny situation in the most awful manner, and, as the mother and sole parent of five children, have certainly pleaded with God earnestly, and, I may strictly say, incessantly, as it has been the only and supreme desire of my soul to know the truth. I know that I have, besides the errors of a corrapt nature, added many sins to the account he has with me : indeed, often, in the struggles of my soul, I should have thought myself deservedly forsaken by him, had I dared : impeach his mercy to one who desires above all things to please him and has the greatest sorrow for having offended him. In- deed, all other sorrow is joy to me, and in the many severe MRS. E. A. SETON. 113 trials he Las been pleased to send me, I have feared nothing but the evil of losing his favor. With the sincerity with which 1 lay my heart before him, I must declare to you that I feel my mind decided in its original sentiments re- specting my religion. Mr. Filicchi, who has accompanied me to America, has requested me to make this statement to you ; and I have promised him to defer every further step until you will favor me with an answer, and must entreat you to consider that my present divided situation from every communion is almost more than I can bear, and that it will be an act of the greatest charity to forward your sen- timents as soon as your leisure will permit." At the time that Mrs. Seton prepared this communica- tion to Bishop Carroll, Mr. Anthony Filicchi also wrote to the bishop, enclosing a letter of introduction from his brother, both with a view to make himself known to him, and to solicit his co-operation in the difficulties which im- peded Mrs. Seton's progress in the way of truth. He says : " Your good advice in so important a matter is anxiously expected, and I doubt not of your earnest attention to it, and of an invincible direct reply to the different statements and observations contained in the papers of one of these Protestant ministers (Mr. Hobart) against those delivered by my brother to Mrs. Seton, which both I think proper to convey to you in their original, to be returned after perusal. By the advice of Rev. Mr. O'Brien,* I have meanwhile put into the hands of Mrs. Seton the book, 'England's Con- version and Reformation/ composed and printed in Dublin, which she will certainly read with the requisite attention, her only wish, her only intent, being to know and act right for herself and for her children, independent of whatever Assistant pastor of the Catholic Church in the city of New York. 10* 11 114 THE LIFE Of worldly considerations." Such was the state of things at the date of this letter, July 26, 1804. But before it was sent to Bishop Carroll, Mrs. Seton's Protestant friends had prevailed upon her not to perplex her mind with further controversy. At the instance of Mr. Filicchi, she had de- termined at first to await the answer of the bishop : but it appears that she afterward concluded to hasten the decision of the question, as in the same letter of Mr. Filicchi, men- tioned above, he says, in the postscript : "I have left with Rev. Mr. O'Brien the manuscripts in question, who has pro- mised me that he will be able for this same evening to have them perused and answered."* This was unquestionably a critical moment for Mrs. Seton, her mind being in an agony of suspense, urged by the call of divine truth on the one hand, and trammelled and fettered on the other by the in- fluence of those around her. Her happiness, as a child of the Church, now rested upon the uncertain issue of a con- troversy, which was the more doubtful in its result, as it was hurried to its close at a period when her mind was in a state of the greatest obscurity and agitation. Mr. Filicchi forwarded, in his letter to Dr. Carroll, the communication written by Mrs. Seton; but it is plain, from the circum- stances just alluded to, that he enclosed it to the bishop merely to furnish him with a history of the whole affair, and not as a letter from Mrs. Seton. On the same day, July 26, he wrote to her as follows : "MY DEAR SISTER: " I have been, and always, wheresoever, before whomso- ever, and before St. Peter himself, whose primacy it appear* you are so decidedly prevailed upon to deny, shall be, ready to render justice from the bottom of my oppressed soul, to * That is, the manuscript of Mr. Butiart. MRS. E. A SETON. 115 the sincerity of your heart in the course you are a! out to follow in regard to your religion; but it will always, at the same time, stand clear above my eyes as a fact, that your mind is over-influenced by an unaccountable awe toward the friends of your old communion. Only intent to know the truth, you were ready to write, you had written yourself to Bishop Carroll, as the proper person to enlighten your mind, and you saw the propriety of conveying to him the origins* manuscript that had operated the change of your mind; but your old friends (they are surely not the best for it) come forward, do not think proper, do not choose to enter in any dispute, do not wish that your mind should be exposed to any more light, and immediately you are prevailed upon to give up your soul, your wishes, to their solicitations. Your new, neglected friends, you know, have followed the very opposite system, as it becomes the followers of truth. They have not urged, they have not limited you in any way, in any thing; and yet, if it was true what your old pretended friends tried to insinuate to you that our Church forbids in- vestigation and commands an unreasonable faith, they could have been easily excused if they had acted differently; but that your priests, who call loudly for investigation, who do not acknowledge any authority above the private reason of any human being, should persuade you, as a sacred duty, to decline examination, is certainly above my comprehension. But she has, your pretended friends say, given up her mind ; she is easy about what she was in doubt of before; that if enough for her conscience. I wish it could be so, for the sake of your soul, my dear sister: I share most cordially ;he Btruggles of your situation ; but certainly it cannot be so for the conscience of your advisers. Your distracted mind and bleeding heart were equally made easy at Leghorn in a quite different way. Your own experience does not point you (to) the probable false security in which they would insist thai *16 THE LIFE OF you should remain. My virtuous friend, you repeatedlj and solemnly promised me to wait for the result of my ap- plication to Bishop Carroll. I have this morning explained to him the anxiety of my soul and yours, and I cannot doubt of his best attention to both. Confirm me by your own handwriting, and you will better recollect the promise. This is the object of my present unusual address by letter to you.* It grieves me profoundly to keep your anxiety so awakened; but, according to my sacred principles and my most solid affection, how can I spare you, my worthy sister? I renew here in writing my solemn promise that I shall be in any event your most affectionate and sincere friend till my last breath, ready to do every thing in my power in your favor, for the best comfort of this mortal and unhappy life. In my absence from New York, or from America, my purest friendship will remain with you as long as I shall live, to be your unshaken support; and, to that effect, an honorable person will be pointed out to you, to whom you will be pleased you shall apply, in my name, in every emergency, without any compass or control but the extent of my suffi- ciency and your wants; and should I die before you, my brother, you know, will be happy to perform my wishes on his account. But as your own most dear existence, accord- ing to my principles as well as yours, ought to be readily sacrificed to the safety of your soul, you will, I am confident, beloved friend, pardon me if, on every occasion, I renew the fight to your most inward feelings, in hopes that it will please the most m tfciful Almighty God, at least in the last moment of your abode in this vale of tears, to send his Holy Spirit to you, and reunite us all in his heavenly king- Mrs. Seton and Mr. Filicchi were then both at New York, and had personal interviews with each other. On this occasion he departed fio what was usual, and wrote to her. MBS. E. A. SETON. Ill dom. You ought otherwise to positively forbid me to Me or address you any more." Whether it was this appeal to Mrs. Seton's better judg- ment, or a reply from the Rev. Mr. O'Brien to the manur script of Mr. Hobart, that produced a more favorable im- pression on her mind, we are unable to say; perhaps both contributed to fortify her against the conclusive step which was suggested by her Protestant friends. Certain it is that she did not return professedly to her former communion with the Protestant Episcopal Church. She continued to investigate the subject and to pray for increased light and grace from heaven. In the mean time, Mr. Filicchi awaited with anxious interest the reply of Bishop Carroll; but, several weeks having passed away without any intelligence from Baltimore, he addressed the bishop a second letter, in which he urged him to comply with the request already made to assist Mrs. Seton with his advice, representing to him that this request regarded an affair of no smaller mo- ment than the eternal salvation of a parent and her five children. At length, on the 22nd of August, Bishop Car- roll's answer reached Mr. Filicchi at New York, who im- mediately communicated it to Mrs. Seton. He thus in- forms Dr. Carroll of the circumstance, in a letter dated Boston, 4th of October, 1804 : r 'SlRt "Just tne day before my long-delayed departure fioa New York, I was made happy with the honor of your kind letter of the 20th of August, and I went immediately out of town to communicate and leave it for perusal to the worthy lady who still labors under doubts and anxieties in her most sincere wish for truth. Behold how she. expresses herself in her first letter to me, dated the 30th of August: 'This day 118 THE LIFE OP tompletes one week since my dear brother left me. I hav thought of him incessantly : indeed, I cannot think of mj BOU! without remembering you; and as certainly the great- est part of my days and nights are occupied in solitude and watching over that poor soul, consequently you are the con- stant companion of my thoughts and prayers. When I began the Litany of Jesus this afternoon, the plural number put it in my mind to say it for you also; and praying heart- ily for you made me resolve to write to my dear brother. The bishop's letter has been held to my heart, on my knees beseeching God to enlighten me to see the truth, unmixed with doubts and hesitations. I read the promises given to St. Peter and the sixth chapter every day, and then ask God can I offend him by believing those express words. I read my dear St. Francis, and ask, is it possible that I shall dare to think differently from him, or seek heaven any other way ? I have read your England? a Reformation, and find its evi- dence too conclusive to admit of any reply. God will not forsake me, Antonio : I know that he will unite me to his flock ; and, although my faith is unsettled, I am assured that he will not disappoint my hope, which is fixed in his own word, that he will not despise the humble, contrite heart, which would esteem all the losses of this world as greatest gain, if it can be so happy as to please him. September 2. I was willing to embrace an excuse for not going to town last Sunday, in compliance with your advice, and my brother Post came to visit me. Our conversation turned accident- ally on the subject that engrosses my soul, and led me to an explanation with him, very interesting, and, I believe, surpris- ing to him, as I fixed my argument on literal words rathei than human fancy. His cool and quiet judgment could not follow the flight of my faith ; but he was so candid as to ad- mit that, if before God I believed the doctrine of the Church to be true, the errors or imperfections of its members could MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 119 not justify a separation from its communion. But still the hideous objects will present themselves which disturb my soul and unsettle my faith ; and, though God is so gracious as to give me the fullest assurance that through the name of Jesus my prayers shall finally be answered, yet there eems n :w a cloud before my way that keeps me always ask- ing him which is the right path. Indeed, my brother, when the remembrance of my sins and unholiness before God strikes my memory with their fullest convictions, I only won- der how I can expect from him so great a favor as the light of his truth, until the sorrow and penance of my remaining life shall invite his pitying mercy to grant it. Remember to pray for me. Sept. 8. This is the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, and I have tried to sanctify it, begging God to look on my soul and see how gladly I would kiss her feet ( because she was his mother, and joyfully show every expres- sion of reverence that even my Antonio would desire, if 1 could do it with freedom of soul which followed from know- ledge of his will. Mr. Hobart was here for the first tim? yesterday, since your absence, and was so entirely out of ah patience that it was in vain to show the letter. He says, " The Church is corrupt ; we have returned to the primitive' doctrine, and what more would you have when you act ac- cording to your best judgment?" I tell him, that would be enough for this world, but I fear for the next to meet an other question. His visit was short, and painful on botl sides. God direct me, for I see it is in vain to look for help from any one but him. Sept. 12. Three of my children have the whooping-cough, and, as I watch them the greater part of the night, my prayers are often repeated. But oh, Antonio, when will my poor soul be worthy to be heard, and make its direct applications with that liberty of spirit which the light of truth alone can give to it ? I repeat to you, pray for me. It will benefit us both; and, when you wish 120 THE LIFE OF k> add a cordial drop of sweetness to my cup, write some oi the thoughts of your soul/ " Last week I received another letter from her, and to- day I receive a third, which both I take the liberty of en- slosiiu /) you in their originals, to give you an accurate idea of her merit and struggles. The earnest acknowledg- ment expressed in the beginning of her last letter of the 27th September relates to my proposal of sending her back with her children to Italy, in search of the lost quiet of her soul and mind. Sensible of my incapacity, particularly in a foreign language, in which I hardly can make myself in- telligible, I suggested to her to address you herself with her doubts and questions. Your wise, holy instructions, in such a delicate and interesting case, direct or through me, are certainly the only adequate ones, and would most deeply gratify, sir, your most humble servant, "ANTHONY FILICCHI." We will here present at length the two letters of Mrs. Seton alluded to by her friend, exhibiting as they do a faith- ful picture of her soul at this time, her yearnings for the truth, and her struggles with the interior blindness which it pleased Divine Providence to send her, and with the out- ward difficulties which she met with from the efforts of her Protestant friends : "Sept. 19, 1804 ''MY MOST DEAR BROTHER: "You say you must know all my concerns, interior and exterior. As for the latter, they are easily related. I have seen no one since I wrote to you but my Philadelphia friend, Mrs. Scott, whose tenderness to me is unremittedj Mrs. Sadler, who cannot enter into the spirit of our cause j and Captain Blagg, who came to offer his services, if I had MRS X. A. 8ETON. 121 any commands in Leghorn or Paris. Mr. Hobart, and all the other misters, have left me to my contemplations, or rather to my 'best judgment/ I suppose, but, I rather hope, to God. So much for exterior, to which I only add, I am very well, though quite oppressed with fatigue occasioned by my poor little children's whooping-cough. In order to dis- close to you the interior, I must speak to you as to God. To him I say, 'When shall my darkness be made light?' for really it would seem that the evil spirit has taken his place go near my soul that nothing good can enter in it without being mixed with his suggestions. In the life of St. Au- gustine I read that 'where he is most active, and obstacles seem greatest in the divine service, there we have reason to conclude that success will be most glorious.' The hope of this glorious success is all my comfort; for indeed my spirit is sometimes so severely tried it is ready to sink. This morning I fell on my face before God, (remember, I tell you all,) and appealed to him as my righteous Judge, if hardness of heart or unwillingness to be taught, or any human reasons, stood between me and the truth, if I would not rejoice to cast my sorrows on the bosom of the Blessed Mary, to en- treat the influence of all his blessed saints and angels, to pray for precious souls even more than for myself, and ac- count myself happy in dying for his sacred truth, if once my soul could know it was pleasing to him. I remembered how much these exercises had comforted and delighted me at Leghorn, and recalled all the reasons which had ttere convinced me of their truth, and immediately a cloud of ioubts and replies raised a contest in this poor soul, and I jould only again cry out for mercy to a sinner, and implore His pity who is the source of life, light, and truth, to en- lighten my eyes that I sleep not in death that death of sin and error which with every power of my soul I endeavor to escape. 11 122 THE LIFE Of "After reading the life of St. Mary Magdalen, I thought, Come, my soul, let us turn from all these suggestions of one side or the other, and quietly resolve to go to that church irhich has at least the multitude of the wise and good on its eide ; and began to consider the first steps I must take. The first step is it not to declare I believe all that is taught by the Council of Trent? and if I said that, would not tha Searcher of Hearts know my falsehood and insincerity? Could you say that you would be satisfied with his bread, and believe the cup, which he equally commanded, unneces- sary? Could you believe that the prayers and litanies ad- dressed to our Blessed Lady are acceptable to God, though not commanded in Scripture, &c. &c. ? By all which I find, and you, my Antonio, will be out of patience to find, that the tradition of the Church has not the true weight of autho- rity in my mind. Do not be angry. Pity me. Remember the mixtures of truth and error which have been pressed upon my soul, and rather pray for me, than reproach me; for indeed I make every endeavor to think as you wish me, and it is only the most obstinate resistance of my mind that prevents my immediately doing also as you wish me ; and all I can do is to renew my promise that 1 will pray incessantly, and strive to wash out with tears and penance the sins which, I fear, oppose my way to God. Again I repeat, pray for me." On the 27th of September Mrs. Seton again wrote to Mr. Filicchi, as follows: " It is necessary to lay the restraint of discretion on my pen, while I thank you for your letter of the 20th, which, though but two hours ago received, has been already read over many times. The pen is restrained, but the heart, which is before God, blesses and adores him in unbounded thanksgiving for such a friend. Your goodness to me he only can reward. To answer you fully now would not b MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 123 proper in any way, especially as you see my poor soul is still more unsettled and perplexed fron. day to day, not from any failure in its prayers or entreaties to God, which are rather redouoled than neglected, but, like a bird struggling in a net, it cannot escape its fears and tremblings. " This afternoon, after dismissing the children to play, I wnt to my knees in my little closet, to consider what I should do and how my sacred duty would direct. Should I again read those books I first received from Mr. Hobart? My heart revolted, for I know there are all the black accusa- tions, and the sum of them too sensibly torments my soul. Should I again go over those of the Catholic doctrine, though every page I read is familiar to me, and my memory re- presents in rotation the different instructions and replies? Since your absence I have read the book your brother first gave me, and the one you also gave, with the most careful attention, not only with attention, but always with prayer, and now must look up to that as my only refuge, prayer at all times, in all places. Really, Antonio, my most dear brother, to whom I can speak every secret of my soul, I have prayed, and do pray so much, that it seems every thought is prayer; and when I awake from my short sleeps my mind seems to have been praying, and the poor eyes are really almost blind with incessant tears, for can I pray for such a favor without a beating heart and torrents of tears ? My cliildren say, ' Poor mamma/ continually, and really are better than they were, that they may not add to my sorrow. Yet sweet are these tears, and sweet are the sorrows; great is my comfort, that, though the almighty Source of Light does not visit me with his blessed light, yet he does not leave me contented and insensible in my darkness. "Sept. 29. This day has been a feast-day to the children and a holiday from school, that I might give the greatest portion of the hours to God. You would have been pleased 124 THE LIFE Of to hear their questions about St. Michael, and how eagerly they listened to the history of the good offices done to UP by the blessed angels, and of St. Michael driving Lucifer out of heaven, &c. They always wait on their knees after prayers till I bless them each with the sign of the cross, and I look up to God with an humble hope that he will not forsake us. I could tell you many things, my brother, but must wait foi the much wished-for hour when we shall be seated with OUT big book at the table. / could cry out now as my poor Seton used to do, Antonio, Antonio, Antonio; but call back the thought, and my soul cries out, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus; there it finds rest and heavenly peace, and is hushed by that dear Bound, as my little babe is quieted by my cradle-song. The Jesus Psalter, in the little book you gave me, is my favorite office, because it so often repeats that name; and when thought goes to you, Antonio, and imagines you in the pro- miscuous company you must meet, without any solid grati- fication, fatigued by your excursions, wandering in your fancy, &c. &c., oh, how I pray that the Holy Spirit may not leave you, and that your dear angel may even pinch you at the hour of prayers rather than suffer you to neglect them ! You charge me not to neglect the lives of the Saints, which I could not, if I would, for they interest me so much that the little time I can catch for reading is all given to them : indeed, they are a relaxation to my mind, for they lessen all my troubles and make them as nothing by comparison When I read that St. Austin was long in a fluctuating state of mind between error and truth, I say to myself, Be patient, God will bring you home at last; and as for the lessons of self-denial and poverty, if St. Francis de Sales and the life of our dear Master had not before pointed out to me the many virtues and graces that accompany them, I should even wish for them, to be like those dear, dear saints, in any re- ipect. Antonio, Antonio, why cannot my poor soul be satis- MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 125 fied that your religion is now the same that theirs then waa? How can it hesitate? why must it struggle? the Almightf only can decide." After expressing her solicitude to hear from him, she con tinues : " I am ashamed of my own letters they are all egotism but my soul is so entirely engrossed by one subject, that it cannot speak with freedom on any other. Day after day passes, and I see no one; indeed, I can say with perfect truth at all times, I prefer my solitude to the company of any human being, except that of my most dear Antonio. You know my heart, you know my thoughts, my pains and sor- rows, hopes and fears. Jonathan loved David as his own soul, and if I was your brother, Antonio, I would never leave you for one hour; but as it is, I try rather to turn every af- fection to God, well knowing that there alone their utmost exercise cannot be misapplied and most ardent hopes can never be disappointed. The idea you suggested to me of writing to Bishop Carroll was suggested by a good or an evil angel, immediately after your departure. The Pro- testants say I am in a state of temptation; you must natu- rally think the same. The Almighty is my defence in either case, not from any claim of mine, but through the name of Jesus Christ. Is it possible I can do wrong in writing to him, sanctioned by your direction ? At least I will have a letter prepared by the time you come." It is plain, from the tenor of the preceding letters, that Mrs. Seton's mind was in a painful state of uncertainty, which continued to disturb and agitate her soul, although she possessed the most conclusive evidences in favor of the Catholic religion ; and it seemed that Divine Providence permitted her to be thus the sport of conflicting sentiments, in order to render her ultimate triumph over error the more signal, and to disengage her affections the more perfectlj 126 THE LIFE 01 from creatures. The letter of Bishop Carroll to Mr. Filicchi relative to her situation, was a source of great comfort tc her under these circumstances. She was also very much encouraged and supported *r her trials by the advice and exhortations which she r-ceived from Mr. Philip Filicchi, of Leghorn, brother of the gentleman just mentioned. After having been kindly instructed by him in Italy on the various points of Catholic doctrine, so far as to be convinced of their truth, she deemed it but proper to inform him of the subsequent trouble which had come over her mind and prevented her from declaring herself a member of the Church. The answer of her friend is equally indicative of his learning, piety, and wisdom ; and, while it shows the valuable helps which the Almighty sent her at this critical period, may suggest to others those prudent counsels which will always be found useful in a situation like hers : "LEGHORN, Oct 17, 1804. "DEAR MADAM : " I received yesterday by the Mercury yours of the 27th of July. I assure you, my dear Mrs. Seton, that in reading it I did not feel the slightest emotion of indignation, but my heart was deeply affected by the consideration of your danger. I wish I had been with you. My endeavors would have been devoted entirely to calm your anxiety. 'Why art thou sorrowful, my soul? Trust in God/ I would have taught you to repeat, with the royal prophet. You could not fail to meet with contradictions. I expected them. An imagination like yours, rendered so sensible by constant stretch, if I may use the expression, a great pro- pensity to melancholy, are natural affections, which I dreaded might throw you in trouble. I was, however, in hopes to have furnished you with a remedy, by giving you that ex- cellent treatise of the ' Consolation of a Christian.' I trusted MRS E. A 8ETON 127 yo would have learned that, as we cannot do a single good thing, not even form a good thought, of ourselves, we must throw ourselves .entirely on the mercy of God; that he has the power and the will to help us, that we can do every thing with his succor, and that he will not suffer us to be tempted at ove our strength, as St. Paul assures us. I was in hopes that you would have retained the maxim that our Saviour "wishes our salvation more than we can wish it ourselves. Your anxiety, therefore, is unreasonable, and your trouble a temptation. You pray to your Father, to your Creator, and to your Saviour, and you tremble. You do not know his goodness. These were not the sentiments that accom- panied the prodigal child, nor Mary Magdalen. St. Paul, fallen from his horse and called by Him whom he knew not, did not trouble himself. He calmly said, ' What will you have me to do ?' * It is only in calm and tranquillity that we may do some good. It is only our enemy who de- lights in trouble, as trouble is his element. He knows that he cannot catch fish in clear water. You are perplexed uncertain. Pray constantly and with fervor, but calmly. If you trouble yourself for being troubled, you will never find peace. "The objections started by your divines have consoled me, because I have not seen any thing new in them ; nothing I did not know before. It is the old cant masterly coinbatted in all ages. I shall have no difficulty to encoun- ter in answering it to your satisfaction. I shall not need t study much. You must, however, be sensible that, as I answer your letter immediately after its receipt, I cannot do it now. I shall clear all your doubts by the return of the Mercury. "I shall only say a few words on the most essential point, 01 the basis of the edifice. You say that your divines disclaim Luther and Calvin as their patriarchs as the 128 THE IMFE OF authors of their Reformation, as they call it. Have thej named you the man ? But names are nothing to our pur- pose. Let us condemn them to oblivion. They deserve it. Do they deny that the Protestant Church, the Reformed Church, or the Church of England, began in the sixteenth century? If they do, have recourse to the history of Eng- land. I refer you to their own writers to writers of their own profession. Can I be more generous or liberal ? They add, that their church comes directly and uninterruptedly from Jesus Christ and the apostles, having had a constant succession of priests ; but are they able to name you a num- ber of them, a congregation of faithful, who, ten or twelve years before the Reformation, professed openly the same tenets they do now who, for instance, had declared con- fession an abominable imposition, the invocation of saints idolatry, the sacrifice of the mass an abomination ? They cannot. All their priests a few days before had said mass, had heard confessions, had invoked the saints. If the.^ are errors, they did not belong to the true Church, because the Church of Christ could not err. Their succession, therefore, is of no use to their cause. Do not hastily trust them. Apply to me with that confidence you show for me, for which I thank you. I shall never betray it. Mark the difference between their conduct and mine, and you will judge who is led by the purest motives. They endeavor to frighten you, to force you to a hasty declaration; they threaten to make a public business of a private concern. Violence was never the characteristic of charity Was thit my conduct ? Did I ever propose you any temporal benefit as an allurement ? Did I take advantage of your docility to listen to my instructions, to hasten your decision ? Did I not, on the contrary, restrain your ardor, that you might prove yourself? All this I have done, and not through a entiment of indifference, because I am as zealous in the MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 129 cause as they may be; but surprise, threats, violence, are instruments I despise. "I must warn you against an error I ee you are subject to. You have suffered your poor brain to be distracted by controversies on the real presence and the invocation of saints. Do you expect to understand all the subaltern questions that may arise ? If you are sick, you send for a doctor. Do you pretend to question him on every point of his medical science before you submit yourself to his prescrip- tions ? You are satisfied to know that he is one of the best doctors in the place. Our prudence in temporal concerns may well be followed in our spiritual ones. The study of religion cannot, ought not to be complicated. You know that Jesus Christ has established a Church that cannot err, cannot fall, and of course cannot be subject to variation, nor begin at a period distant from that in which he lived among us. Seek therefore this Church. If you find it, submit yourself to her decisions without further inquiries. If God has a right over our actions and our desires, he must have an equal one over our understanding. Your submission will be reconcilable, even in those points you may not un- derstand, because it is reasonable to trust in the word of a Church which is the column of firmness and truth. If we were obliged to extend our inquiries further, few of us would have leisure for it, and none the talents. " Pray be sincere in your desire of knowing the truth; do not listen tc secondary and worldly considerations, and you will be enlightened. " Have you ever made a reflection ? It may tend to calm your apprehensions, though it is insufficient to make a good Catholic. All your divines admit that a Roman Catholic may be saved. What risk do you run, therefore, in tha change? To put one's self on the safer side is certainly prudence. I shall write to you fully at leisure. Do not de> 130 THE LIFE Of prive me of your confidence. Open year heart. This will relieve you. You cannot displease me. 1 m:>y help you, ot pity you. I shall never cease to pray for you. " Your affectionate and sincere friend, " PHILIP FILICCHI " It is impossible to imagine any thing more admirably adapted to the object in view than the wise instructions con- tained in the preceding remarks. In reading them we fancy .ourselves listening rather to the exact and well-timed expo- sitions of the learned and pious divine, than to the friendly advices given by a layman actively engaged in secular pur- suits. The following letters from the same gentleman are filled with the same wisdom, which may be profitably read by all: " LEGHORN, Oct. 22, 1804. " DEAR MADAM : " Enclosed is the duplicate of the letter I wrote you, the 17th inst., in answer to yours of the 27th July. I am be- come very uneasy, both for you and for myself, and I lament much more your imprudence and mine: yours, for having resisted the light that has shown you the precipice you have before your feet; mine, for having exposed you to it by re- straining your first zeal. When you left us, no doubt re- mained in your mind. How imprudent was it, then, to sub- mit your determination to the censure of people who could not be expected to do otherwise than oppose it, and intro- duce trouble and disquiet in your conscience, to deter you from it! In a spiritual concern you have followed only worldly prudence, which the gospel calls folly. You have acted as if you had thought that God was not tc be obeyed without the consent and advice of your friends. You have met with the punishment you deserved. In lieu of that serenity you had acquired from the knowledge of truth, anxiety and trouble have taken possession of your mind MRS. E. A. oETON 131 JToiii heart Is become weak and your resolutions fallen to nothing. 1 mr understanding is clouded, and your intellect is full of darkness. Remember the answer that Jesus Christ gave to a man who acted like you : 'And another said, I will follow thee, Lord; but let me first take my leave of them that are at my house. Jesus said to him, No man putting his hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the king- dom of God.' (St. Luke, at the close of the 9th chapter.) If in those people who had taken care to instruct you you had found any symptom of interested views, of duplicity, and of a desire to surprise you, your conduct might be justi- fiable ; but you never saw any thing of it. You had clearly seen the contradictions that rendered your former persuasion very suspicious, and you had acknowledged them, viz.: first, The difficulty that is met with by all those who pretend to find a succession in the Protestant Church from the primi- tive Church under the apostles. All the Reformers having been first Roman Catholics, no Protestant Church having existed between the fifth century, from which they date our corruption, and the sixteenth, from which their reform is dated in all histories, they meet with an interruption that baffles all their efforts to fill up. Secondly, Their refusal to acknowledge the necessity of confession, and their directions to the ministers attending the sick to advise such a confes- sion, and give absolution in consequence of it. Thirdly, To fancy a place of perfect tranquillity, where every soul must go and remain till the day of judgment, in spite of the de- claration made by Jesus Christ to the converted thief, that he would be that very day in heaven with him; and several otners which we examined together. After all this, you should have informed your friends that you had embraced another persuasion; but you should never have consulted them whether you were to do it. Your inquiry is reduced to this : ' Do you advise me to continue in that which I am 132 THE LIFE OF convinced is wrong, or very suspicious ?' I tremble for you, but I tremble also for myself. I fear that an imprudent confidence in your apparent firmness may be placed to my account. Perhaps a secret pride made me trust in the power of my persuasions. The vanity of giving a proof to your friends that your change of religion could not be imputed to surprise made me prefer your delaying your act of retracta- tion. I consider myself guilty of all this, and can only plead a sort of good intention. " I had already told you that, while all your divines ad- mit that a Roman Catholic may be saved, you need not trouble yourself; you were at any rate equally safe. But you know that our doctrine does not admit of reciprocity. As I have explained to you the motives, I need not repeat them. This only I say, that, independent of that infallibility which must be the characteristic of the Church of Jesus Christ, if we allow any to exist, the decisions of the Catholio Church as a mere civil body cannot be despised. Consider the number of its members, their reputation in all ages for talents and sanctity, the conformity of their sentiments, the antiquity of its establishment, and compare to it the youth of the Protestant world, the infinite variety of the doctrine preached by its greatest men, the contracted number of its followers, their acknowledgment of being subject to error, (though they pretend not to err in fact;) and decide if you can be tranquil on this most important point. Every man who tells me that the Church he advises me to become a member of is not infallible tells me in substance that I may be led into error. With this declaration I have not even hia word for security. By his declaration that his Church is not infallible he has warned me of the danger. Can you b tranquil in such a persuasion ? I should not believe you, if you were to answer in the affirmative. ' Should you propose these difficulties to your divines, (as MRS . A. SETON. 133 you have such a propensity to prefer their advice to the light you have received,) and they should for convenience sake say that they do not admit that a Catholic may be saved, or that they confess that the Protestant Church is infallible, I shall give you proofs to the contrary. "As examples are sometimes more persuasive than rea- soning, I enclose you a copy of the declaration of the Duchess of York She was in your same situation, but she was mor* faithful to grace. " < What must I do, my dear Filicchi ?' I hear you say Pray, pray incessantly, pray with fervor, and with con- fidence. Be sincere in your wish to know the truth and firm in your resolution to follow it. Never think of the con- sequences for what relates to your situation and family affairs. There is a Providence. Let therefore prayer be your only adviser. Abandon all others, if you believe me. You can- not ask without something being given you; you cannot knock and find the door always shut; you cannot seek, never to find. Sincerity, confidence, and perseverance in prayer, calmness and tranquillity in mind, courage and resolution in heart, a perfect resignation to Providence, you cannot fail to succeed. Avoid the labyrinth of controversies. They will not make you wiser. . " In the paper I gave you, I only set down what was ne- cessary for you to know. I did not pretend to answer all the difficulties started at different times by Protestants. I know them, and could have answered them, but my work would have been swelled to an immense size, and I had no time for it. Had I explained the futility of the objections you point out, I would not have improved much, because they would have started many others. It is easy to create difficulties when you lose sight of the main point. Is there any thing more certain than the existence of God ? Still an atheist will tire out the patience of the most learned, by 12 134 THE LIFE Of the difficulties lie can start in pretending to support his opinion It is impossible to follow any man in the discus- sion of separate controversies. The sectaries of all deno- minations will always avoid discussing the main point. They will constantly lose sight of it to introduce other questions. " May you be wise enough to see the snares and avoid them ! I will say no more. God bless you. " Your affectionate friend, " PHILIP FILICCHI." "LEGHORN, Dec. 18, 1804. "DEAR MADAM: " The moment I received your letter of the 29th July, 1 wrote you a few hasty lines, endeavoring to ease your mind and to set aright your conscience. I promised you that by the return of the Mercury I would have cleared all your doubts, or rather shown you the falsehood of the arguments made use of by our opponents to disturb you from the determina- tion of embracing the Catholic faith. Little I thought then that the yellow fever, which has visited us, would rob me of the moments I intended to devote to this task. This sick- ness, which alarmed our people and made almost a desert of this city by the great emigration it caused, induced the government to establish a board of health. I was pointed out as. a member. I would not refuse to lend my assistance; and the services I have been obliged to render have taken up so much of my time (and you may suppose I had not a great deal of it to spare) that I am reduced to the last day, to the eve of the Mercury's departure, to attend to my pro- mise. I do not despair, however, of success. As words and reasonings are of no avail if the grace of God does not give them the power of persuading, as this may be granted to the simplest observations as well as to the most learned argu- ments, I trust that the few remarks I have tried to make will b supported with that grace which I implore, and with MRS. . A. SET ON. 135 out which a learned treatise would be but the sound of timbrel. " I shall answer your queries in due succession : " First. They tell you that the Protestant Church haa the right succession, they (your clergymen) having always been ordained by bishops of the Roman Catholic Church, and that they call themselves Protestants because they pro- tested against the errors of the Church of Rome, which had deviated from the primitive Church errors unknown to the first four ages of Christianity. They admit therefore " 1. That the true Church must come in right succes- sion from the apostles j " 2. That the Roman Catholic Church was, in the first four ages, the true Church. "3. That the Protestant Church conies directly from the Roman Catholic Church. " You will remember, and they have admitted it, that the true Church could not fall and could not err. The Protest- ant Reformation took place in the sixteenth century. The Church of Rome had fallen into error (according to their assertions) since the fifth century, and they omit to name a church that must fill a space of eleven centuries. That they might be right, it would have been necessary that their protestations against the errors of the Roman Church should have taken place the moment they appeared, so that they might be entitled to be considered as the followers of truth without deviation or interruption, and that we and not they might be censured as having separated from the general Church. Was this the fact ? When the Protestants first appeared and declared the invocation of saints to be idola- try, confession an imposition, the sacrifice of the mass an abomination, the real presence a superstition, the invocation of saints, confession, mass, were the avowed tenets and the constant practice of the Church. Those very bishops who 136 THE LIFE OF ordained the first abettors of the Reformation followed that doctrine, and the first reformers themselves a few days before aid mass, heard confessions, &c. If all these things were errors, the bishops who ordained them had erred they (the reformers) had erred themselves the whole Church had erred. The supposed existence of these errors destroys the possibility of the uninterrupted succession of the tru Church. It is therefore true, and most true, as I told you before, viz. : that if they acknowledged their succession from the Roman Church, (a fact they cannot deny,) they must confess that, if this Church had erred for the space of eleven centuries, it could not be the Church of Jesus Christ, and their very succession proves a vitiated origin, and, of course, a false establishment. If, on the contrary, the Roman Church was the true Church, it could not err, and the reformation of its doctrine was both useless and impious. "You will constantly observe that the Protestants are very careful to avoid this dilemma. They will never give you a straight answer on this subject. They will imme- diately change the theme, propose other arguments, and draw your attention from the principal point. " They have moreover imposed on you, and taken advan- tage of your ignorance of ecclesiastical history, when they have told you that the first four ages knew not and practised not the things they call Popish errors. I shall content my- self with exposing the infidelity of their accounts in a few instances. They will then be considered by you as false guides, and the little I shall say will be sufficient to enlighten you, if God grants power to my pen. " Your clergymen abominate the sacrifice of the mass. St. Justin, who lived about fifty years after the death of the apostle St. John, praises the sacrifice of the Eucharist, and ays that it was offered by Christians throughout the world MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 13T "St. Irenaous disciple of St. Polycarp, who had been disciple of the apostle St. John, bears the same witness. " Tertullian, who lived in the second age, assures us that the sacrifice was offered among Christians for the health and preservation of the emperors. In advising women to retire- ment, he says, that to visit the sick, to assist at the sacrifice, and to hear the word of God, were the only motives that should induce them to go out of their houses. He assures us that the sacrifice was offered for the dead, the anniversary day of their death. *" St. Cyprian, who lived in the third age, declares that the practice of offering the sacrifice for the dead was general and ancient. %" You see therefore that the doctrine relative to the sacri- fice and to purgatory was known and admitted before the fifth age. " The Liturgy of the Church of Jerusalem, which is at- tributed to St. James, is worded thus : ' Grant, God, that our oblation may be found acceptable and sanctified by the Holy Ghost for the propitiation of our sins and for the re- pose of those who departed before us.' The Liturgies of the Churches of Constantinople, Alexandria, and Ethiopia, are framed nearly in the same words. " Tertullian, who lived in the second age, deplores the blindness of those Christians who did not confess their sins through shame. Here is therefore another essential point of belief known to the primitive Church and combated by your reformers. " You see therefore that you cannot trust their veracity. I am surprised that you did not perceive the weakness ol their cause by their own reasonings. " They cannot deny that their reformation took place in the sixteenth century. To prove their mission, they claim their succession from the Roman Catholic Church. They 12* 138 THE LIFE Off admit that Jesus Christ kept his word not to abandou hi* Church, and still they pretend to belong to the true one, in consequence of their succession from that which, according to their declaration, had deviated from truth since the fourth century. What monstrous reasoning ! " My dear Mrs. Seton, keep well in mind the following argument, and do not trouble your head with controversies. " All Christians admit that Jesus Christ has established a Church, and that he would be with it to the end of time. St. Paul calls it the column of firmness and of truth. " There must, therefore be a true Church, and this must be as ancient as Christianity itself. "All our endeavors must be to find which, among the Christian societies that claim the privilege, is the true Church. " When we have found it we need no longer study. Let us believe what she teaches, as the true Church cannot err. " New institutions cannot pretend to the above privilege. If to obtain it they claim succession from another Church, the argument must be this : " Either the Church you proceed from was true, or false If true, you were wrong to change her doctrine ; if false, you are false yourselves. " Right succession and innovation are contradictory things. " The study of religion cannot be difficult. It must b adapted to the talents of all. Controversies do no good. " Your clergymen will always endeavor to keep your attention from the above principles, and to throw you into the labyrinth of controversies. If they succeed to throw confusion in your mind they have gained the battle. You will be neither Catholic nor Protestant. They do not car* farthing about it, provided you be not a Catholic "As to what they have said respecting councils and theii MRS. E. A. SETON. 139 contradictions, you will observe that as thete have been at times two popes, one legal and one illegal, so there have been legal and illegal councils. These must have been wrong, the others right. They could not therefore possibly agree ; and the general Church, in admitting those, has re- fused to acknowledge the others. The treatise I gave you about the infallibility of the Church will show you where Infallibility resides. " I hope to have fairly answered all your questions. E wish I could be near you. I would keep my .word to clear your doubts. With the help of Grod, I would not fear the learned arguments of your divines, without being a divine myself. " I am, with perfect esteem, " Your humble servant and affectionate friend, " PHILIP FELICCHI " While Mr. Filicchi was thus manifesting his friendly and pious zeal in behalf of Mrs. Seton, she was an object of equal solicitude on the part of his brother in America We have seen that while in New York he visited her fre- quently, and when his affairs called him to Boston, he opened a correspondence with her, the main object of which was the promotion of her spiritual welfare. His letters breathed a spirit of the warmest and most exalted friend- ship, which, although viewing her religious enlightenment as the highest consideration, did not overlook, as we have seen, her temporal happiness. He counselled her in her doubts and consoled her in her trials. Writing from Bos- ton, November 7, 1804, he says : ^" Fight, my worthy friend ; pray without ceasing. The merciful Redeemer of as all will at last come to your relief, wipe away your tears, eialt your humility, reward your fortitude." He might well address her in this language under the weight of suffer 140 THE LIFE Of Ing which then oppressed her soul. The inists that stil clouded her mind on the subject of religion would alone have sufficed to throw a sensitive and devout spirit like hers into a state of cruel anguish. But, in addition to this, she was met with coldness and indifference hy some of her rela- tions and former friends, who could not brook the idea of her hesitating in the preference of Protestantism to Catho- licity. For a lady of Mrs. Seton's social standing, and one who had enjoyed every comfort of life before the loss of her husband, this persecution would have been a very serious obstacle to her conversion, had she not possessed a singular firmness, and been actuated by the purest and most elevated intentions. But her object was to place herself and her children in the true way of salvation, and convinced, a* our Lord declares in the gospel, that " it will profit a man nothing to gain the whole world if he lose his own soul," she was willing to sacrifice the advantages of this earth for that peace and eternal happiness which the world cannot give. By frequent recourse to prayer and spiritual read- ing she supported herself under these trials, hoping that the Almighty would at length regard the sincerity of her heart, and dispel the clouds that still hovered over her mind. Writing to a friend at this time, she thus describes her peculiar situation and the cause that produced it : " On arriving home (from Italy) I was assailed on the eulject of religion by the clergy, who talked of antichrist, idolatry, and urged objections in torrents, which, though not capable of changing the opinions I had adopted, have terrified me enough to keep me in a state of hesitation ; and I am thus in the hands of God, praying night and day for his divine light, which can alone direct me aright. I Instruct my children in the Catholic religion, without taking any decided step ; my heart is in that faith, and it is my MRS. E. A SETOH. 141 greatest coinf jrt to station myself in imagination in a Ca- tholic church." % They who are acquainted with the various, sometimes mysterious, difficulties that haunt the mind in its progress from error to truth, will readily comprehend that the Catho- lic faith preponderated in the heart of Mrs. Seton, while she was held back by a certain obscurity still lingering upon the subject, and which we may believe to have been per- mitted by the Almighty, either as a punishment of the rash exposure of faith, or as a means of testing the fidelity and increasing the merits of his servant. She had no need of further discussion or investigation in regard to the true Church. From the very first opposition that she had met with on the part of hsr friends in America, she entered profoundly into the examination of the question; author was read after author ; the texts referred to her considera- tion were weighed on her knees and with constant tears ; and when she was told by her relations that her strong belief in Catholic doctrine was a temptation, she doubled against the enemy of her soul the most effectual weapons in the spiritual conflict, humility, prayer, and fasting ; she therefore had employed all the ordinary means for inform- ing herself correctly upon the subject of religious truth; and if she still was prevented, by a certain feeling of diffi- dence or dread, from being fully influenced by the power- ful motives which she possessed for embracing the Catholic communion, it was a trial which God permitted for his greater glory and the more decided benefit of her soul. Her only resource was to pray, to knock at the door of divine mercy, until it should please the Almighty to shed upon her the rays of his heavenly light. The letters of Mrs. Seton which we have placed befort the reader present a lively picture of her distressing situa- tion ; but it may be interesting to enter more fully into her 142 THE LIFE Of thoughts, and to consider the reasoning by which she re- butted the arguments of her Protestant friends. It will serve to show the powerful hold of Catholic principles OB her mind and heart, and the steady action of divine grace in drawing her to the true faith. During the painfui struggle of her soul from the month of July, 1804, to the end of the year, she wrote several letters to her friend, Mrs. Amabilia Filicchi, of Leghorn, in which she expresses hei sentiments with equal simplicity and force. "July. "I had," she says, "a most affectionate note from Mr. Hobart to-day, asking me how I could ever think of leaving the Church in which I was baptized. But, though what- ever he says to me has the weight of my partiality for him, as well as the respect it seems to me I could scarcely have for any one else, yet that question made me smile ; for it is like saying that wherever a child is born, and wherever its parents place it, there it will find the truth and he does not hear the droll invitations made me every day, since I am in my little new home, and old friends come to see me ; for it has already happened that one of the most excellent women I ever knew, who is of the Church of Scotland, find- ing me unsettled about the great object of a true faith, said to me, ' Oh do, dear soul ! come and hear our J. Mason, and I am sure you will join us.' A little after, came one whom I loved for the purest and most innocent manners, of the Society of Quakers, (to which I have been always at- tached ;) she coaxed me too with artless persuasion : ' Betsey, I tell thee, thee had better come with us.' And my faithful old friend of the Anabaptist meeting, Mrs. T , says, with tears in her eyes, 'Oh, could you be regenerated, could you know our experiences and enjoy with us our heavenly banquet !' And my good old Mary, the Methodist, groaui and contemplates, as she calls it, over my soul, so MRS. E. A. 8 ETON. 143 misled because I have yet no convictions. But, oh my Father and ray God ! all that will not do for me. Your word is truth and without contradiction, wherever it is. One faith, one hope, one baptism I look for, wherever it is ; and I often think my sins, my miseries, hide the light ; yet I will cling and hold to my God to the last gasp, begging for that light, and never change until I find it." " August. "There is a sad weariness now over life I never before was tried with. My lovely children round their writing- table, or round our evening fire, make me forget a little this unworthy dejection, which arises, I believe, from continual application of mind to these multiplied books brought for my instruction ; above all, Newton's Prophecies. Your poor friend, though, is not so easily troubled as to the facts it dwells on, because it may or may not be ; but, living all my days in the thought that all and everybody would be saved who meant well, it grieves my very soul to see that Protestants, as well as your (as I thought) hard and severe principles, see the thing so differently since this book, so valued by them, sends all followers of the Pope to the bot- tomless pit, &c. ; and it appears by the account made of them from the apostles' time, that a greater part of the world must be already there at any rate. Oh my ! the wor- shipper of images and the man of sin are different enough from the beloved souls I knew in Leghorn, to ease my mind on that point, since I so well knew what you worshipped, my Amabilia; but yet, so painful and sorrowful an im- pression is left on my heart, it is all clouded and troubled. Sc I say the penitential psalms, if not with the spirit of the royal prophet, at least with his tears, which truly mix with the food and water the couch of your poor friend, yet with such confidence in God, that it seems to me he never was truly my Father and my all at any moment of my life. 144 THE LIFE OF Anna coaxes me, when we are at our evening prayers, to gay, Hail, Mary! and all say, 'Oh do, ma, teach it to us !' Even little Rebecca tries to lisp it, though she can scarcely speak ; and I ask my Saviour, why should we not say it ? If any one is in heaven, his mother must be there. Are the angels, then, who are so often represented as being so in- terested for us on earth, more compassionate, more exalted, than she is ? Oh, no, no ! Mary, our Mother, that cannot be. So I beg her, with the confidence and tenderness of her child, to pity us *nd guide us to the true faith, if we are not in it ; and, if we are, to obtain peace for my poor eoul, that I may be a good mother to my poor darlings ; for I know if God should leave me to myself after all my sins, he would be justified ; and since I read these books, my head is quite bewildered about the few that are saved ; so I kiss her picture you gave me, and beg her to be a mother to me." "September. "Your Antonio would not have been well pleased to see me in St. Paul's (Protestant Episcopal) Church to-day; but peace and persuasion about proprieties, &c. over-prevailed : yet I got in a side pew, which turned my face toward the Catholic Church, in the next street, and found myself twenty times speaking to the Blessed Sacrament there, in- stead of looking at the naked altar where I was, or minding the routine of prayers. Tears plenty, and sighs as siient and deep as when I first entered your blessed Church of the Annunciation in Florence all turning to the one only de- sire, to see the way most pleasing to my God, whichever that way is. Mr. Hobart says, ' How can you believe that there are as many Gods as there are millions of altars and tens of millions of blessed hosts all over the world ?' Again I can but smile at t : s earnest words; for the whole of my cogitations about it are reduced to one thought: 'It ii MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 146 GOD who does it the same God who fed so many thousanda with the little barley-loaves and little fishes, multiplying them, of course, in the hands which distributed them.' The thought stops not a moment to me ; I look straight at my God, and see that nothing is so very hard to believe in it, since it is HE who does it. Years ago, I read in some old book, 'When you say a thing is a mystery and you do not understand it, you say nothing against the mystery itself, but only acknowledge your limited knowledge and comprehension, which does not understand a thousand things you must yet own to be true.' And so often it comes in my head, if the religion which gives to the world (at least to so great a part of it) the heavenly consolations attached to the belief of the presence of God in the Blessed Sacrament, to be the food of the poor wanderers in the de- sert of this world, as well as the manna was the support of the Israelites through the wilderness to their Canaan ; if this religion, says your poor friend, is the work or con- trivance of men and priests, as they say, then God seems not as earnest for our happiness as these contrivers, nor to *love us, though the children of redemption and bought with the precious blood of his dear Son, as much as he did the children of the old Law ; since he leaves our churches with nothing but naked walls, and our altars unadorned with either the ark which his presence filled, or any of the i precious pledges of his care for us, which he gave to those of old. They tell me I must worship him now in spirit and in truth ; but my poor spirit very often goes to sleep, or roves about like an idler, for want of something to fix ite attention ; and for the truth, dearest Amabilia, I think I feel more true union of heart and soul with him over a pic- ture of the crucifixion I found years ago in my father's 'portfolio, than in the ; but what I was going to say would be folly, for truth does not depend on the people IS K 146 THE LIFE OF around us, or the place we are in. I can only say, 1 do long and desire to worship our God in truth; and if I had never met you Catholics, and yet should have read the books Mr. Hobart has brought me, they would have in themselves brought a thousand uncertainties and doubts to my mind; and these soften my heart so much before God, in the certainty bow much be must pity me, knowing, aa he does, the whole and sole bent of my soul is to please him only, and get close to him in this life and the next, that in the midnight hour, believe me, I often look up at the walls through the tears and distress that overpower me, expecting rather to see his finger writing on the wall for my relief, than that he will forsake or abandon so poor a creature." " November. " I do not get on, Amabilia ; cannot cast the balance for the peace of this poor soul ; but it suffers plenty, and the body too. I say daily, with great confidence of being one *day heard, the 119th Psalm, never weary of repeating it, and reading h, Kempis, who, by the way, was a Catholic writer, and, as our Protestant preface says, 'wonderfully versed in the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures;' and I read much, too, of St Francis de Sales, so earnest for bring- ing all to the bosom of the Catholic Church ; and I say to myself, Will I ever know better how to please God than they did ? and down I kneel to pour my tears to them, and beg them to obtain faith for me. Then I see faith is a gift of God, to be diligently sought and earnestly desired, and groan to him for it in silence, since our Saviour says I can- not come to him unless the Father draw me. So it is ; by- and-by, I trust, this storm will cease how painful and Dften agonizing He only knows who can and will still .t in his own good time. Mrs. S , my long-tried friend, bserved to me this morning that I had penance enough MRS. E. A. SETON. 147 without seeking it among Catholics. True ; but we bear all the pain without the merit. Yet I do try sincerely to turn all mine for account of my soul. I was telling her I hoped the more I suffered in this life the more I hoped to be spared in the next, as I believed God would accept my pains in atonement for my sins. She said, ' that was in- deed very comfortable doctrine ;' she wished she could be- lieve it. Indeed, it is all my comfort, dearest Amabilia, worn out now to a skeleton, almost death may now overtake me in the struggle. But God himself must finish it. " Would you believe, Amabilia in a desperation of heart I went last Sunday to St. George's (Protestant Episcopal) Church. The wants and necessities of my soul were so press- ing that I looked straight up to God, and I told him, Since I cannot see the way to please you whom alone I wish to please, every thing is indifferent to me ; and until you do show me the way you mean me to walk in, I will trudge on in the path you suffered me to be born in, and go even to the very sacrament where I once used to find you. So away I went, my old Mary happy to take care of the chil- dren for me once more until I came back ; but if I left the house a Protestant I returned to it a Catholic, I think, since I determined to go no more to the Protestants, being much more troubled than ever I thought I could be while I re- membered God is my God. But so it was, that the bowing of my heart before the bishop to receive his absolution, which is given publicly and universally to all in the church I had not the least faith in his prayers, and looked for an apostolic loosing from my sins, which, by the books Mr. Hobart had given me to read I find they do not claim or admit, then, trembling to communion, half dead with the inward struggle ; when they said, ( the body and blood of Christ,' oh, Amabilia, no words for my trial ! And I re- member, in my old prayer-book of former edition, when I 148 THE LIFE OF was a child, it was not, as now, said to be spiritually take a and received ; however, to get thoughts away, I took the Daily Exercise of good Abbe" Plunkett, to read the prayers after communion ; but finding every word addressed to our dear Saviour as really present, I became half crazy, and for the first time could not bear the sweet caresses of the dar- lings or bless their little dinner. Oh, my God, that day I but it finished calmly at last, abandoning all to God, and a renewed confidence in the Blessed Virgin, whose mild and peaceful look reproached my bold excesses, and reminded me to fix my heart above with better hopes." Such was the resolution which, aided by the grace of God, was to be a source of light and peace to the troubled soul of Mrs. Seton to abandon a.' to him and rely upon the declarations of his holy word. Her mind had been BO harassed with doubt, so cruelly agitated by conflicting thoughts and ineffectual attempts to discover the true faith, that she had formed the desperate purpose of embracing nc particular form of Christianity until the hour of death; but God was watching over her, to withdraw her feet from the brink of the precipice. On the feast of the Epiphany, th office of which commemorates the homage paid by the Wise Men to the infant Saviour of mankind, she took up a ser mon of Bourdaloue on that subject, which, alluding to the inquiry made by those Eastern sages among the priests and doctors of the law, "Where is he who is born Bang of the Jews ?" observes, that when we no longer discern the star of faith, we must seek it where alone it is to be found, among the depositaries of the divine word, the pastors of the Church. This suggestion, with the blessing of God, produced the most salutary impression on her mind. She at once resolved to consult again those books on the Catho- lic faith which had originally won her to it, and she endea- vored also to obtain an interview with the Rev. Mr. O'Brien, MRS. E. A. SETON 149 pastor of St. Peter's Church. Failing, however, in this, and ardently desirous of receiving direction from the minis- ters of God, she addressed a letter to the Rev. John Che- verus, then assistant pastor of the Catholic Church in * Boston.* In vain did those around her attempt to influ- ence her by worldly considerations. Writing to a friend at this time, she says that Catholics in New York were repre- eented as " the offscourings of the people," and the congre- gation said to be "a public nuisance;" "but," she adds, " that troubles not me. The congregation of a city may be very shabby, yet very pleasing to God ; or very bad people among them, yet cannot hurt the faith, as I take it. And should the priest himself deserve no more respect than is here allowed him, his ministry of the sacraments would be the same to me, if I ever shall receive them. * I seek but God and his Church, and expect to find my peace in them, not in the people." While her mind was in these happy dispositions, she re- .ceived from Bishop Carroll a further evidence of the lively interest which he took in her welfare. In a letter to Mr. Filicchi he says : " Though I have heard no more than is contained in your last concerning the most estimable lady for whose situation and happiness you are so much inte- rested, yet I have the fullest confidence that, after being put to the severe and most distressing trial of interior darkness, doubts, and terrors of making a wrong step, our merciful Father in heaven will soon send her relief, and diffuse light and consolation in her heart. Among the religious books in her possession, I doubt not of her having that most ex- * Afterward first Bishop of that city, and, still later, Bishop of Mont- ftuban, in France, and Cardinal Archbishop of Bordeaux. See his Life, by the Rev. J. Huen Dubourg, translated from the French by Robert M. Walsh ; 12ino., Philadelphia, 1841. The letter which Mrs. Seton wrot* to Mr. Cheverus at this interesting juncture, and his answer, I hare not oen able to discover, notwithstanding the most diligent search. 13* 150 THE LIFE OF cellcnt one, generally ascribed to Thomas k Kempis, ' Of the 1 Following of Christ.' Recommend to her, when her soul is weighed down with trouble and anxiety, to read the ninth chapter of the second book, entitled ' Of the want or ab- i gence of every comfort.' As far as it is in my power to judge of her state of mind, from the account of it contained in your letters, I do not think it advisable for her at present to perplex herself with reading any more controversy. She has seen enough on that subject to assure herself of the true principles for settling her faith. Her great business now should be to beseech our Divine Redeemer to revive in her heart the grace of her baptism, and to fortify her soul in the resolution of following unreservedly the voice of God speaking to her heart, however difficult and painful the sa- * orifices may be which it requires. Having confirmed herself in this resolution, it must be to her a matter of the first im- portance to inspect the state of her conscience, and judge herself impartially and with the utmost sincerity, divesting herself as much as she can, with the aid of divine grace, not only of every sinful attachment, but of every affection that 'has not God for its source, its motive, and its object. She ought to consider whether the tears she sheds and the prayers she offers to heaven are purely for God's sake, and arise solely from compunction for sin, and are unmixed with any alloy of worldly respects or inordinate solicitude for the attainment of some worldly purpose. Indeed, when I read the words you copied from her letters, and her letters themselves, I remain convinced of the sincerity of her en- deavors to make herself conformable in all things to the divine will; but afterward a fear arises in my mind that * God discovers in her some lurking imperfection, and defer* the final grace of her conversion till her soul be entirely purified of its irregular attachments. *The ordinary course of Providence, with respect to those who are to be tried by MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 151 interior darkness and tribulation, is to subject them to it after their conversion is completed; and it often happens that those trials become highly useful, and dispose those who are subject to them to disclose with the utmost sincerity the entire state of their consciences, all their weaknesses, and even those imperfections of which formerly they made no account, t Perhaps, in the case of your most esteemed and respected friend, it pleases God to suffer her to experi ence now, before her open union with his Church, those agitations of conscience which will induce her to perform, with the greatest care and attention, all previous duties necessary for her adoption into it." Unfortunately, we are not in possession of the corre- spondence which passed between Mrs. Seton and the Rev. Mr. Cheverus at this period; but we know from other sources of information that the wise counsels of that distinguished clergyman, and the excellent advices of Bishop Carroll, con- tributed in an eminent degree, under God, to dispel the doubts and apprehensions of her soul and inspire her with a fixed determination to seek admission into the Catholic Church. Her final resolution on this important question, and the grounds on which it rested, are thus beautifully expressed in her own words : "Now they tell me, take care, I am a mother, and my children I must answer for in judgment, whatever faith I lead them to. That being so, and I so unconscious, for I little thought, till told by Mr. Hobart, that their faith could be so full of consequence to them or me, I will go peaceably and firmly to the Catholic Church; for, if faith is so im- ' portant to our salvation, I will seek it where true faith first began seek it among those who received it from God him- self. The controversies on it I am quite incapable of decid- ing; and, as the strictest Protestant allows salvation to a good Catholic, to the Catholics I will go, and try to be a good 152 THE LIFE Of one. May God accept my intention and pity me ! As to supposing the word of our Lord has failed, and that he has suffered his first foundation to be built on by antichrist, I cannot stop on that without stopping on every other word of our Lord, and being tempted to be no Christian at all ; for, if the first Church became antichrist, and the second holds her rights from it, then I should be afraid both might be antichrist, and I make my way to the bottomless pit by fcl- lowing either. Come, then, my little ones, we will go to judgment together, and present our Lord his own words; and if he says, ' You fools, I did not mean that,' we will say, ** Since you said you would be always, even to the end of ages, with this Church you built with your blood, if you ever left it, it is your word which misled us; therefore please to pardon your poor fools, for your own word's sake." Under these convictions, Mrs. Seton applied without delay to be admitted into the "one fold under one shep- herd." For this purpose, on the 14th of March, Ash- Wed- nesday, she went to St. Peter's Church, in a spirit of entire consecration of herself to God. " How the heart," she says, "died away as it were in silence before the little tabernacle and the great crucifixion over it ! Ah, my God, here let me rest, and down the head on the bosom and the knees on the bench. If I could have thought of any thing but God, there was enough, I suppose, to have astonished a stranger by the hurrying over of the congregation; but as I o me only to visit his Majesty, I knew not what it meant till afterward, that it was a day they received ashes, the beginning of Lent; and the droll but most venerable Irish priest, who seems just come there, talked of death so familiarly that he delighted and revived me." After the service, Mrs. Seton made a formal abjuration of Protestant- ism, ind profession of the Catholic faith at the hands of Rev Matthew O'Brien, and in presence of Mr Anthony MRS. E. A. SETON. 153 Filicchi, her devoted friend.* With the simplicity and humble submission of a true child of the Church, she ac- knowledged her belief in all its teachings, relying with con- fidence upon its authority as the representative of Christ on earth; and her mind thus composed, she returned home, she says, " light at heart and cool of head, the first time these many long months, but not without begging our Lord to wrap my heart deep in that open side, so well described in the beautiful crucifixion, or lock it up in his little taber- nacle where I shall now rest forever. Oh the endearments of this day with the children, and the play of the heart with God while keeping up their little farces with them I" Her whole attention was now devoted to the requisite preparation for the reception of the sacraments of penance and the holy Eucharist, which were to be the seal of her peace and union with God; and we cannot better convey than in her own expressive language an idea of the fervent disposi- tions of her soul in approaching these fountains of divine grace: " So delighted now to prepare for this good confession, which, bad as I am, I would be ready to make on the house- top, to insure the good absolution I hope for after it, and then to set out a new life a new existence itself no great difficulty for me to be ready for it, for truly my life has been well called over in bitterness of soul these months of sorrow passed. " It is done easy enough. The kindest, most respect- able confessor is this Mr. O'Brien, with the compassion and yet firmness in this work of mercy which I would have ex- In memory of this joyful occasion, Mrs. Seton gave to Mr. Filicchi, who had been so instrumental in her conversion, a copy of the " Follow- ing of Christ," with this inscription: "Antonio Filicchi, from his dear lister and friend, Eliza A. Seton, to commemorate the happy day h< (resented her to the Church of God, the 14th March, 1S05." 154 THE LIFE Of pected from my Lord himself. Our Lord himself I saw alone in him, both in his and my part of this venerable sa- crament ; for oh ! how awful those words of unloosing afte? a thirty years' bondage. I felt as if my chains fell, as those of St. Peter, at the touch of the divine messenger. " My God 1 what new scenes for my soul ! Annuncia- tion-day I shall be made one with him who said, ' Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you can have no part with me.' I count the days and hours yet a few more of hope and expectation, and then . How bright the sun, these morning walks of preparation ! Deep snow, or smooth ice, all to me the same I see nothing but the little bright cross on St. Peter's steeple. "March 25. At last God is mine, and I am his. Now let all go its round. I have received him. The awful impressions of the evening before fears of not having done all to prepare, and yet even the transports of confidence and hope in his goodness. My God ! to the last breath of life will I not remember this night of watching for morning dawn the fearful, beating heart, so pressing to be gone the long walk to town, but every step counted nearer that street then nearer that tabernacle then nearer the mo- ment he would enter the poor, poor little dwelling so all his own. And when he did, the first thought I remember was, ' Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered ;' for it seemed to me my King had come to take his throne, and, instead of the humble, tender welcome I had expected to give him, it was but a triumph of joy and gladness that the deliverer was come, and my defence, and shield, and strength, and sal- vation, made mine for this world and the next. Now, then, all the excesses of my heart found their play, and it danced with more fervor no, must not say that but perhaps al- most with as much of the Royal Prophet before his ark ; for 1 was far richer than he, and more honored than he ever MRS. E. A. SETON. 155 ooold be. Now the point is for the fraits. So far, truly I feel all the powers of my soul held fast by him who came with so much majesty to take possession of his little poor kingdom." Such were the fervent sentiments that accompanied Mrs. Seton to a participation of the bread of life. The memory of that day never passed from her mindj she commemorated it annually, sanctifying it by acts of gratitude to God, and approaching with renewed piety that sacrament of love in which she found a plegde of her eternal union with God. BOOK IV. Mrs Se ton's appreciation of Catholicity Correspondence with Rev. Mr. Cheverus Other clergymen Persecution from her family Her temporal affairs Mr. Filicchi's substantial friendship Her sons placed at college Daily duties Piety and faith Instructions of Rer. Mr. Tisserant Mrs. Seton receives the sacrament of confirmation Messrs. Filicchi and Tisserant embark for Europe Relations between Mr. Filicchi and Mrs. Seton Her deportment toward Protestants Intercourse between her and Miss Cecilia Seton Conversion of the latter Her heroic faith Increased opposition to Mrs. Seton Her new friends Example of her sister-in-law and herself Instruction of her children She meets Rev. William Dubourg New plans Confers with Bishop Carroll Views of Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus Remark- able prediction of the former Notice of Mr. Dubourg Difficulties of Mrs. Seton's position in New York She consults Bishop Carroll His advice Another intrview with Mr. Dubourg She resolves to commence an institution in Baltimore Plan of Mr. Dubourg. AFTER the long and difficult struggle which she made to become a member of the true Church, Mrs. Seton could not but fee. it an extraordinary degree the worth of that hid- den treasure of faith which had been revealed to her. So 156 THE LIFE 0V highly did she prize it, and so grateful a sense did she ea- tertain of the precious gift, that she poured forth the most fervent thanksgiving to the Father of lights, for the mercies he had vouchsafed to her, and hastened, like the woman in the gospel who had found the groat that was lost, to ex- press her joy and happiness, by communicating the glad tidings to all her friends. The Rev. Mr. Cheverus received the following letter from her soon after her conversion : "REV. AND DEAR SlB: " My joyful heart offers you the tribute of its lively gratitude for your kind and charitable interest in ita sorrows when it was oppressed with doubts and fears, and hastens, after the completion of its happiness, to in- form you that, through the boundless mercy of God, and aided by your satisfactory counsels, my soul has offered all its hesitations and reluctancies a sacrifice, with the blessed sacrifice on the altar, on the 14th of March, and the next day was admitted to the true Church of Jesus Christ, with a mind grateful and satisfied, as that of a poor shipwrecked mariner on being restored to his true home.* I should im- mediately have made a communication so pleasing to you, but have been necessarily very much engaged in collecting all the powers of my soul for receiving the pledge of eternal happiness with which it has been blessed on the happy day of the Annunciation, when it seemed indeed to be admitted to a new life and that peace which passes all understanding With David, I now say, 'Thou hast saved my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling/ and certainly desire most earnestly to 'walk before him in the land of the living,' esteeming my privilege so great, and what he has done for me so beyond my most lively hopes, that I * By admission to the true Church, Mrs. Setou probably means that he WM baptized conditionally and approached the sacrament of penano* MRS. K. A. 8ETON. 157 tan scarcely realize my own blessedness. You, dear sir, could never experience, but may picture to yourself a poor hardened creature, weighed down with sins and sorrows, re- ceiving an immediate transition to life, liberty, and rest. Oh, pray for me, that I may be faithful and persevere to the end ; and I would beg of you advice and counsel how to preserve my inestimable blessings. True, there are many good books, but directions personally addressed from a re- vered source must forcibly impress. For instance, many years I have preferred those chapters which you appoint in *St. John ; but, from your direction, make it a rule to read them constantly. The book you mentioned, 'The Follow- ing of Christ/ has been my consolation through the severest struggles of my life, and indeed one of my first convictions of the truth arose from reflecting on the account a Protest- ant writer gives of Kempis, as having been remarkable for his study and knowledge of the Holy Scriptures and fervent zeal in the service of God. I remember falling on my knees, and with many tears inquired of God if he who knew his Scriptures so well, and so ardently loved him, could have been mistaken in the true faith. Also, in reading the life of St. Francis de Sales, I felt a perfect willingness to follow him, and could not but pray that my soul might have its portion with his on the great day. f The sermons of Bour- daloue have also greatly helped to convince and enlighten me. For many months past, one of them is always included in my daily devotions."* The spiritual aid here solicited from the Rev. Mr. Che- verus was most cordially extended. The epistolary corre- spondence which had commenced between him and Mrs. Seton was continued to the close of her life, to the great atisfaction and edification of both. He entertained for her the highest respect and esteem, and expressed to her the hope that their correspondence would be kept up, as he con- 14 158 sidered it a happiness to be favored with her letters. Shorti* after her admission into the Church, he sent her a prayer- book, " as a small token of his friendship and respect," add- ing: ' Whenever you think I can be of any use to you, J beg, dear madam, you will apply without any fear of doing it too often; I shall always answer your esteemed letters with punctuality, and in the best manner I am able." Mrs. Seton nad the advantage of intercourse with several other distin- guished clergymen of that day. Besides the venerable Bishop Carroll, whose valued services in her behalf we have already noticed, she became acquainted with the Rev. Dr. Matignon, > pastor of the Catholic Church at Boston, who, like Mr. Che- verus, had been driven from France by the terrors of the re- volution, and, like him, had won the respect of the whole population of Boston/ 6 ' A gentleman writing to Mrs Seton from this place remarked to her, in allusion to these worthy ecclesiastics : " Their appearance, their deportment, their learning, are acknowledged almost with enthusiasm by most of the Protestants themselves." The Rev. Michael Uurley, an Augustinian friar, then lately arrived from Europe, and afterward pastor of St. Augustine's in Phila- delphia, was also a particular friend of Mrs. Seton, and, as we shall see hereafter, took an active part in her spiritual concerns. But Mr. Cheverus recommended to her parti- cular regard, as a director on special occasions, the Rev. Mr. > Tisserant, a French ecclesiastic, who was on a visit to Ame- rica, and resided principally at Elizabethtown, New Jersey; "a most amiable and respectable man," as Mr. Cheverus styled him, and equally conspicuous for his learning and piety. It was a particular blessing of God upon Mrs. Seton that she was surrounded at this time by so many shining members of the priesthood; for the difficulties of her posi- tion, in consequence of the change in her religious senti- mente and practice, called for the exercise of great fortitude, MRS. E. A. BETON. 159 which found a powerful support in the sympathy and coun- sels of her enlightened friends. The most painful circumstance that she had to contend with was the opposition and indifference of many with whom she had ever been united by the most intimate ties. Not re- flecting that her earnest inquiry after the true faith, and the disposition to make every sacrifice for the peace and salvation of her soul, should have entitled her to increased respect and admiration, these false friends suffered themselves to be misled by a bigoted and unchristian spirit. She had followed the dictates of her conscience and become a Catholic; this was enough to excite against her the most unkind feelings, even among those who professed to believe that every one should judge for himself on the subject of religion. Such has always been the extraordinary inconsistency of sectarian- ism ; but at the period of Mrs. Seton's conversion the spirit of hostility to the Catholic Church was more deeply rooted in the public mind than at the present day. The time had just passed away when the true faith was proscribed in New York, and, although the severe penalties which had been enforced against the exercise of the Catholic religion were now abolished, the Protestant exclusiveness of the ante- revolutionary period was far from having disappeared, and the Catholic portion of the community being comparatively small, and possessing no social or political influence, it was considered by the aristocracy of the city a sort of degrada- tion to leave the ranks of Protestantism for the communion of the true Church. To a woman of Mrs. Seton's delicate sensibility, the aversion and estrangement of many who had been warmly attached to her must have been in the highest degree painful. Some, indeed, of her former friends re- mained unaltered in their attachment, but few had the eourage to appear so openly. This state of things could not but operate materially against f60 THE LIFE OF her temporal prospects. The decline of her husband*! affairs, caused by untoward circumstances which have been referred to, had left her without a sufficient maintenance for her family. If she had remained a Protestant, how- ever, she would have received every assistance, and would hare inherited a large fortune ; as it was, she was obliged to depend upon her own exertions, except so far as she was aided by the munificent friendship of Mr. Filicchi and a few others who were interested in her welfare. Had circumstances required it, or even had Mrs. Seton acquiesced in the plan, he would have provided a comfortable home for herself and her family in Italy; and he assured her re- peatedly that even in this country his means would be libe- rally advanced for the promotion of her happiness, if they who should be her first resource in the order of nature neg- lected to supply her wants His agents in New York were constantly directed to honor any demands that she would make upon them, while she herself was urged by him on various occasions, and in the most pressing manner, to accept his friendly offers. He hoped, by carrying her through the troubles of this world, to attain to the happiness of the world to come. " To relieve her wants," he said, " was the pride of his soul, and his best passport for his last journey." But Mrs. Seton's energy of character and spirit of humility did not permit her to rely entirely upon the generosity of others. She wished to exert herself, in accordance with the circum- Btances of her situation, for the support of her family; and with this view she adopted a plan suggested by one of her friends, to open a boarding-house for a limited number of boys who attended an academy in the northern suburbs cf the city. By her attentions to the youths thus confided to her care she was enabled in part to secure a comfortable maintenance. In addition to his other acts of generosity, Mr. Filicchi MBS. E. A. 8ETON. 161 showed a deep and efficient interest for the education of her children. During a visit to Canada, in the summer of 1805 he made the necessary inquiries relative to the collegiate establishment at Montreal, intending to place her two boys in that institution, one of whom was now seven and the other nine years of age. The buildings, however, having been damaged by fire, were not prepared for the reception of students from abroad. This circumstance directed his at- tention to the colleges at Baltimore and Georgetown, in the United States; and after mature reflection they were entered at the latter establishment in May, 1806. ." Spiritual writers teach us that there are two principal methods of walking in the presence of God : eithei by occasional direction of one's thoughts and aspirations :o the Almighty, or by entering into the spirit of our gieat Model, and striving to copy in our various actions the example which he has displayed. Mrs. Seton practised this excellent means of sanctification in both ways, and, MRS. E. A. SETOIT 169 while she thus proved the ardor and sincerity of her io^e 'for God, she enjoyed that blessed peace which it always imparts to the soul. Even in the midst of scenes that were calculated to depress the mind and fill the heart with Borrow, she found a source of interior joy in endeavoring to imitate the spirit of self-denial which our divine Saviour exhibited in his sufferings. Alluding to the sickness which afflicted some of her family, she says : " Our little hos- pital is cheerful this morning after a sad night. Gladly accompanied our Adored in spirit through the streets of Jerusalem all night. When the heart is all his, how easy is pain and sorrow, or, rather, pain and sorrow become purest joy. The hand trembles, as you may see, but the soul is all peace." *That peace which is the portion of the chosen servants of God is seldom unmixed with interior struggles. The joy of the Holy Ghost supposes trials which are dispensed to all ; and it is the reward of those who learn from the sublime teachings of the gospel and the exercise of prayer how to possess their souls in patience. #For this reason Mrs. Seton was led, by those who had the direction of her conscience, to seek in prayer and in the counsels of her spiritual advisers the strength and light which she needed for preserving the tranquillity of her soul. " I hope," Mr. Cheverus wrote to her, " you continue to enjoy that happy peace which surpasseth all understanding. Should it, how- ever, be disturbed by doubts, anxieties, &c., do not get dis- eouraged. ln the midst of the storm, and when Jesus leems to be asleep, call upon him with earnestness; he will arise, and every thing will be calm within you." During the first year after her conversion she corresponded fre- quently with the Rev. Mr. Tisserant, already mentioned, who, residing not far from New York, was more easily accessible as her counsellor in the time of difficulty. The 15 170 THE LIFE OF instructions which he gave her were a source of great corp- fort in her trying situation, and may be read with advan- tage by every pious Christian. Having removed to her sister's residence on Staten Island during the fall of 1805, when the yellow fever was prevailing in New York, she was much perplexed in mind, and, among other things, iu not being able to perform the religious duties to which she had been accustomed. While she was suffering these in- terior troubles, Mr. Tisserant conveyed to her the following excellent advice : " You are, no doubt, well convinced, madam, that I fee. a most lively interest in all the cruel troubles, afflictions, and agitations which you have experienced, and the confidence which you have in me renders it unnecessary to give you any further assurances of what I say. Would that I had the power to put an end to all those difficulties ! I should be happy even in being able to alleviate your sufferings; and, as you are of opinion that my advice will have this effect, I have not the slightest hesitation in giving it; and in doing BO I allow the well-founded diffidence which I have in my- self to be overcome by a desire to conform to your wishes I think that in retiring to your sister's house you have acted for the best, and in remaining there you will do the will of God for the present. |i We should judge of his will in regard to our situation in ihis world from the nature of circum- stances, when these present nothing incompatible with our duties, and particularly when to act otherwise would place as in an extraordinary position. But circumstances seem to Have combined in directing you to your present situation in the house of a cherished sister. The ties of consanguinity and friendship, with the dictates of charity, superadded tt the other considerations which led you thither, give them a decisive weight, and by pursuing a different course you would have placed yourself in a state which could hav MRS. E. A. SETON. 171 been justified only by the supposition that the demands of religious duty required it. This, however, is not the case. You can perform your religious duties in your present situa- tion. If you draw the distinction between the requirements of duty and those practices which are suggested only by the spirit of devotion, a great desire of perfection or of sensible consolations, you will perceive that you can, strictly speak- ing, discharge your obligations where you are. Confessioc and communion are of precept only once a year. You can absent yourself from mass, when there is a grave reason for so doing and if to assist at it would be attended with a serious inconvenience, as may be your case. You need have no scruple of conscience in your case, in requesting your pastor to dispense you from the precept of abstinence on Fridays and Saturdays, and I have no doubt that it will be granted, &c. As to what is not obligatory, there are circumstances in which we are not only permitted, but even bound, to lay it aside, for reasons less urgent than those which you may have. I am far from signifying to you that you ought to relinquish all practices of piety that are not strictly obligatory. Such a suggestion as this would be a pang to your heart ; it would only add to the severe trials which it already suffers. < The love which you have for your divine Saviour will lead you frequently to seize a propitious moment for enjoying the consolations imparted by your pious observances. 9 But, in tracing the line of distinction between duty and that which is not so, I wish simply to prevent you from being disturbed by scruples, and to regulate that ardent zeal for all that re- lates to the glory of God and the salvation of souls which I have witnessed with so much pleasure in your words and actions, and which, if not restrained, might become too partial to your inclinations, would cause you to neglect more than ia advisable y)ur personal comfort, and, what is more, would exhibit our holy religion, among persons who do not profes* 172 THE LIFE 07 it, more inflexible than it really is on those points which are I matters of supererogation, or, at most, requirements of the ecclesiastical law, from which a dispensation can be obtained for grave and sufficient reasons.* In short, madam, I think that in your situation, after complying with your stricter duties, you may obtain a dispensation from those precepts of the Church which would place you under a serious restraint, and that you ought to omit those practices of piety which subject you to the inconveniences you have mentioned. I know how reluctantly this course will be pursued by a soul whose delight is to remain at the foot of the altar and there meditate on the tender love of her divine Spouse. I also consider this modification of your rule which you are com- pelled to adopt as a new trial which the Almighty sends you, and one different from those to which you have been accustomed. You are called upon to sacrifice to him even the sweet comforts of religion, and no doubt you will pass through this trial with the same success which has attended you in others. The dispositions of your soul, which you have described to me in so affecting a manner, leave no doubt in my mind on that score. "With such dispositions you will draw upon yourself the grace of God, and this will enable you to accomplish all things. The meditation of the Holy Scripture will suggest to you many motives of encou- ragement, and afford you much consolation. I have met with several passages in saying my office. Tobias in his affliction said to God, 'I am in trouble, Lord, but I know that after a storm thou bringest a calm, after tears and sorrow a transport of joy: bit, God of Israel, may thy holy namo be blessed at all times and under all circumstances !' And Job exclaims :' The Lord hath tried me as gold in the fire: my feet have followed in his paths: I have walked faithfully in the way which he made known to me : I have not deviatod from it.' * Calm your disquietude, also, in refer- MRS. E. A. SETON. 173 ence to your dear and amiable children. You are much con- cerned about your two boys ; but I am persuaded that your gentle and affectionate treatment will give you the victory over their hearts, and will enable you to avert hereafter the difficulties which your actual situation leads you to appre- hend/' I At the opening of the holy season of Lent, in the year 1806, Mrs. Seton was prevented by some grave reason from assist- ing at the solemn ceremonial of the Church; but, although debarred this satisfaction, she endeavored to compensate for ill loss by the fervor of her private devotions, and applied herself with earnestness to the duties and practices which are prescribed at this penitential time. On this occasion Mr. Tisserant wrote to her, moderating her zeal, and directing her in the safe-keeping of that happy peace which Almighty God imparted to her soul : " March 9, 1806. You tell me that you were prevented from going to church on Ash- Wednesday. The ceremonies of that day are well calculated to produce solemn impressions. If I did not know how deeply convinced you are of the nothingness of this world and of the necessity of penance, I would regret the more that you had been prevented from assisting at the distribution of the ashes, &c. I am edified, however, by the manner in which you passed that day in the midst of your little parish. Your Lent has commenced with a sacrifice and with the mortification of the will, and with good resolutions, which I hope God will bless; strengthen them by tae practice of what the Church enjoins at this holy time. But dc not exaggerate things. Remember what you have to do as a mother and in the employment which you have under- taken. All this is trying, and does not permit you to do what perhaps I would advise if you were in a cloister. If you should have a real doubt on any subject, consult your director. . . .You did well to reject the thoughts that tended 16* 174 THE LIFE Of to disturb the peace of mind wliieh you enjoyed at the begin- ning of Lent. The recollection of our past faults ought not to beget disquietude. A mental calm that springs from a principle of pride or presumption, or leads to the neglect of duty, is indeed to be feared ; but yours, accompanied as it is with a sense of your former sins, and with a constant dis- position to do all you can in future for the love of our divine Master, and particularly to perform the works of penance prescribed at this holy time, is, in my opinion, the result of that filial confidence which the infinite goodness and power of our Heavenly Father ought to inspire, and is one of the most precious gifts that he bestows. It is a duty on our part to cherish it while it is granted. Endeavor, therefore, by being faithful to your resolutions, to discard whatever might deprive you of it. If it please God to withdraw it from time to time, strive to render yourself worthy of it again, by bearing the trial with courage and redoubling your fervor. It will give me pleasure to learn that you are accustoming yourself to banish those vague anxieties which sometimes haunt your mind. . . . The habit of dismissing them will give you more control over your imagination, and will con- tribute to your perfection as well as to your happiness.", During the course of the Lent, Mrs. Seton suffered much from sickness ; and, notwithstanding her entire resignation to the will of God, her indisposition produced a depression of mind that tended to disturb the peace of her soul. Mr. Tisserant, while he encouraged her in recalling with Chris- tian sentiments the thought of death, cautioned her against reflections that would lead her to apprehend the conse- quences of her malady : *" March 16, 1806. Your last letter greatly afflicts me, as I learn from it that you have been seriously indisposed, and that your sickness has left on your mind a deep im pression relative to its immediate or ultimate consequences MRS. E. A. SETOK. 175 A Christian should oftentimes, even in the enjoyment of health, contemplate his lust end, and that dissolution which will terminate the present life He should fancy to him- self that this event may take place at any moment, and at the foot of the crucifix offer to God the sacrifice of the dearest considerations that bind him to this world, and by these preparatory means render more easy that final sacrifice which is inevitable. Bodily suffering is an admonition to the Christian to indulge in these sentiments, and the pious soul is careful not to neglect so salutary a practice. I have been much edified by the manner in which you have per- formed this duty, and I thank God for having given you that peaceful resignation which looks more to the decrees of his holy will than to the momentary suggestions of na- ture, and for having blessed you with so perfect a reliance upon his providential care in relation to your spiritual in- terests and whatever is most dear to you. May you always remain in these happy dispositions 1" Her sickness still continuing toward the end of Lent, Mr. Tisserant warned her against the indiscreet austerity into which she might have been led, directing her to post- pone to some other period what was then beyond her phy- sical strength, and suggesting the following sentiments foi the exercise of her piety on the Friday of Holy Week : "Cast yourself in the arms of an expiring Saviour; give yourself to him, and dwell upon the confidence and consola- tion which this great mystery should inspire. You have told me that the heart of Jesus was your refuge : let it be BO always; retired within that asylum, what have you to fear, and what can appear to you burdensome or painful ?" For a clergyman whose enlightened counsel was a source of so much consolation to her, Mrs. Seton could not but en- tertain the most profound regard ; and hence, upon the ap- proach of the solemn occasion when she was to receive the 176 THE LIFE OF I wcrament of confirmation at the hands of Bishop Carroll, she invited Mr. Tisserant to act as her sponsor, and to pre- sent her to the Church of God as a candidate for the gifta of the Holy Ghost. Her letter, however, did not reach him in time, and he wrote to her, lamenting the disappointment, and congratulating her upon the signal blessings she had received : " I submit to the disappointment, and the more readily, as the choice which you have made of me, to wit- ness your happiness and to be the surety of your holy resolu- tions, is so flattering and agreeable to me, that I must con- sider myself unworthy of the satisfaction it would have im- parted. If I was deprived of so great a pleasure, you at least have received those precious graces which will confirm your faith, animate your courage for the martyrdom to which you have exposed yourself, and render fruitful the apostleship which is the result of your conversion and example. With these graces you have also received the Spirit of consolation, who, I trust, will make you more and more sensible of his divine and tender influences. Oh that I had been present at the moment when you received the character of soldier of Jesus Christ, and the strength to combat still more generously under his sacred banner 1" Shortly after this happy event, which took place in St. Peter's Church, New York, on the 26th of May, Mr. Tisse- rant embarked for Europe, much to the loss of Mrs. Seton, who valued his advice and friendly interest the more as re- ligion was now her only comfort and support. Great a'.so was her loss and affliction in being compelled to bid adieu to Mr. Filicchi, whose incomparable services to her could be imagined and felt, but not expressed in word. That he had been a true, constant, and devoted friend of her and her children was enough to have made him the object of their grateful and affectionate regard ; but he was more than this. He had performed toward her the part of a brother. MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 17" When in a strange land she was overtaken by the bitterest affliction, be became her protector. He offered her a home in her widowhood, and even left the endearments of his own family to accompany her to her native shores. He it was who first directed her to the true path of eternal life : he also stood by her in every difficulty ; in all her doubts and anxieties he enlightened, encouraged, and consoled her, and he did not desist a moment from his charitable zeal until he beheld her safely arrived in the haven of Catholic truth. And, when they whom the sacred ties of con- sanguinity should have led to share their abundance with her and her little ones were unmoved by the wants of her situation, he nobly exerted himself for their assistance, and still more nobly offered to supply all her necessities from the ample means of himself and his brother. Such friend- ship was not lost upon a lady of Mrs. Seton's elevated senti- ments, nor upon a Christian of her accomplished virtue. She fully appreciated all that had been done in her behalf, as well as the prospect of still further kindness, and she knew that only a brother's heart could have prompted such a course. She therefore called him brother, and enter- tained for him the feelings of a sister ; but the sincerity and warmth of her gratitude can be understood only from the eloquent and inimitable language which she herself has employed in depicting it. In a letter addressed to him oil the 14th of March ensuing, the anniversary of her abjura- tion of Protestantism, she says : " My dear Antonio, this day cannot be passed over without offering some part of it to my dear brother, who has largely shared the happiness it commemorates. Do you remember when you carried the poor little wandering sheep to the fold, and led it to the feet of its tender shepherd? Whose warning voice first Baid, 'My sister, you are in the broad way, and not in the right one' ? Antonio's. Who begged me to seek the right 178 THE LIFE OF one? Antonio "WTio led me kindly, gently in it? A* tonio. And, when deceived and turning back, whose ten- der, persevering charity withheld my erring steps and strengthened my fainting heart ? Antonio's. And who is my unfailing friend, protector, benefactor ? Antonio ! An- tonio ! Commissioned from on high, the messenger of peace, the instrument of mercy. My God, my God, mj God, reward him ! The widow's pleading voice, the orptan't innocent hands, are lifted to you to bless him. They rejoic in his love; oh, grant him the eternal joy of yours !" Such was the valued friend from whom she was about to be sepa- rated. On his part, also, a painful sacrifice was to be made. In her and her children he beheld an adopted family, the object of his deep and constant solicitude ; in them he wit- nessed a trophy of his zeal and piety, a perpetual source of pleasure and edification in a strange land; the interest which he took in their welfare he considered the secret of the many favors he had received from Heaven. "Your letters," he wrote to her, "are to me models of language and style, a pattern of friendly expressions, a living example and incitement to virtue and godliness, a true blessing in my present wandering, wearisome life." In parting, it was the consolation of those mutually-cherished friends to re- flect that religion and virtue had united them, that one had visited " the widow and the fatherless in their tribula- tion," while the other had found the priceless treasure of faith, which would more than supply the loss of all earthly comforts and possessions. Mrs. Seton, in the midst of an anti-Catholic society, wat naturally called upon to advocate the cause of truth ; bu. though she prudently availed herself of the opportunity U defend it, she did not urge it unnecessarily upon the atten- tion of others. She thus writes to one of her Protestant friends, who had alluded to her conversion : " I assure MRS. E. A. SETON. 179 70U, my becoming a Catholic was a very simple consequence of going to a Catholic country, where it was impossible for any one, interested in any religion, not to see the wide dif- ference between the first established faith, given and founded by our Lord and his apostles, and the various forms it haa since taken ; and, as I had always delighted in reading the Scriptures, I had so deep an impression of the mysteries of divine revelation, that, though full of the sweet thought that every good and well-meaning soul was right, I was detei- mined, when I came home, both in duty to my children and my own soul, to learn all I was capable of understanding on the subject. If ever a soul did make a fair inquiry, our God knows that mine did, and every day of life increases more and more my gratitude to him for having made me what I am. Certainly, though, it was the knowledge of the Protestant doctrine with regard to faith (8) that made me a Catholic ; for, as soon as on inquiry I found that Episco- palians did not think everybody right, I was convinced my safe plan was to unite with the Church in which, at all events, they admitted that I would find salvation, and where also I would be secure of the apostolic succession, as well as of the many consolations which no other religion but the Catholic can afford. The whole is, that with the convictions of my conscience, my salvation depended on embracing the Catholic faith. I never obtrude my thoughts on the subject, but leave all to their own light and grace, while I enjoy mine. A true joy to me, indeed, the daily morning sacrifice, and our frequent and daily communion, when prepared ! What a contrast to the morning sleep in former days ! It has been my wealth in poverty and joy in deepest affliction." Notwithstanding this prudential course on the part of Mrs. Seton, she was liable to the usual annoyances of those who are disposed to assail the truth without being willing to respect its claims. Under these 180 THE LIFE Of circumstances, she was advised by Mr. Cheverus to defend her religion with prudence and moderation, but not to enter into discussion with such as were governed more by the spirit of contention than by the love of truth ; as disputes of this kind generally lead to a violation of charity, instead of promoting any useful end. "I am aware," says he, "of the difficulties and troubles you must have to encounter in the midst of your acquaintances. When those who raise objections expect an answer, give them some short and clear reason of that hope which is in you. If they grow too warm, recommend only to them to read and examine at leisure, if they think it worth their while. Silence is the best answer to the scoffers. But, whether you speak or be silent, let your heart cry to the Lord in the hour of tempta- tion. When you have done what you thought most proper at the time, you have committed no sin, even if afterward you should think that you ought to have acted in a different manner. " Be not anxious, my dear madam, but rather rejoice in hope. Jesus has received you in the number of his true dis- ciples, since, like them, you rejoice in your sufferings and afflictions. Like the blessed apostle whose festival we cele- brate to-day, you welcome the cross as the greatest blessing and think yourself happy in being fastened to it. May God Almighty maintain you in these sentiments ! May the love of Jesus keep your heart during this holy time, and prepare it to become a sanctuary worthy of him !" November 30, 1805, St. Andrew, Ap. These instructions of Mr. Cheverus were communicated about the beginning of Advent, 1805. At this time, while some of Mrs. Seton's relatives were very much opposed to her on the ground of religion, there was one who was united to her by the most intimate and holy friendship. We have already mentioned the name of Miss Cecilia Seton, her sis- MRS. E. A. 8ETON 181 ter-in-law, as a person in whose virtuous training she took a most lively interest. She was very young, possessed of great personal attractions, and equally remarkable for the sweet- ness of her manners and the piety of her disposition. We may form some idea of the affectionate and virtuous intimacy that existed between her and Mrs. Seton from the following note, which she received from the latter in October of the same year. "The sweetest and even the most innocent pleasures quickly pass in this life, and the dear moments of peace and love enjoyed with my Cecilia this morning appear only as a dream But, as a dream pleasing and soothing to the mind often gives it a foretaste of something it earnestly covets, so my heart turns to the dear hope that it may one day enjoy your society even in this world; or, if otherwise ordained by our dear and Heavenly Father, the more certain hope of an eternal union before his throne cannot fail us but by our own negligence and perversion, against which we must pray literally without ceasing, without ceasing, in every occur- rence and employment of our lives. You know, I mean that prayer of the heart which is independent of place or situation, or which is rather a habit of lifting up the heart to God, as in a constant communication with him; as, for instance, when you go to your studies, you look up to him with sweet complacency, and think, Lord, how worthless is this knowledge, if it were not for the enlightening my /nind and improving it to thy service, or for being more useful to my fellow-creatures, and enabled to fill the part thy providence may appoint me ! When going into society, or mixing with company, appeal to him who sees your heart and knows how much rather you would devote to him; but say, dear Lord, you have placed me here, and I must yield to them whom you have placed me in subjection to: oh keep my heart from all that would separate me Iff 182 THE LIFE OF from thee ! When you are excited to impatience, think foi a moment how much more reason God has to be angry with you than you have for anger against any human being, and yet how constant is his patience and forbearance. And in every disappointment, great or small, let your dear heart fly direct to him, your dear Saviour, throwing yourself in his arms for refuge against every pain and sorrow. He never will leave you or forsake you." The friendship of Mrs. Seton and her sister Cecilia was of that elevated character which acted as an encouragement to both in the love and pursuit of virtue ; and it gradually produced impressions upon the mind of the latter which could not fail, with the grace of God, to result most favor- ably for her spiritual welfare. The happy influence of Mrs. Seton's piety and constancy was also much aided by an ill- ness with which it pleased Divine Providence to afflict her relative toward the end of the year above mentioned. During her sufferings, Mrs. Seton consoled her by her visits, or by writing to her, and suggesting the most excellent acts of devotion for the time of sickness. The following we place before the reader as an illustration of her fervent piety and lively faith: ''Oh that I could take the wing of the angel of peace, and visit the heart of my darling child ! Pain and sorrow should take their flight; or, if ordained to stay as messengers from our Father of Mercies, to separate you from our life of temptation and misery, and prepare you for the reception of endless blessedness, I would repeat to you the story of his sufferings and anguish who chose them for his companions from the cradle to the grave. I would help you to separate all worldly thoughts from your breast, to yield the sinful body to the punishment it deserves, and to beg that sancti- fying grace which will change temporal pain to eternal glory j and then I would again remind you of those sweet MBS. E. A. SETON. 183 instructions and heavenly precepts we read together the happy night we last enjoyed. . . . My Cecilia, I beg, be- seech, implore you, to offer up all your pains, your sorrows and vexations, to God, that he will unite them with the sor- rows, the pangs, and anguish, which our adored Redeemer bore for us on the cross, and entreat that a drop of that precious blood there shed may fall on you to enlighten, strengthen, and support your soul in this life and insure its eterna. salvation in the next. He knows all our weak- ness and the failings of our hearts. As the father pitiea his own children he pities us, and has himself declared that he never will forsake the soul that confides in his name." In this communication Mrs. Seton exhorts her beloved relative in a particular manner to pray, and in this spirit to offer her sufferings in union with those of the Son of God, because she knew well that fervent and persevering prayer is never rejected by the Almighty, and would be the surest means of obtaining for her sister the graces which her situa- tion needed. But as her illness was growing worse, and she had as yet taken no decisive step for the change of her re- ligion, Mrs. Seton began to fear lest she herself had been de- ficient in doing what duty required for the conversion of her sister; and, surrounded as the invalid was by her Protest- ant connections, who could not endure the mention of Catholicity among them, she was at a loss to know precisely how to act under these circumstances. She therefore ap- plied for advice to the Rev. Mr. Cheverus, who sent her the following answer: BOSTON, January 26, 1806 DEAR MADAM: "I must tell you first that your conscience ought to be free from scruples about the past, since you have done in 184 THE LITE Of regard to your interesting sister every thing which you thought discretion and prudence could allow. "In her present situation is it your duty to go farther? I am at a loss myself how to give an answer to this question. I have for these few days consulted in prayer the Father of lights; I have endeavored to place myself in your situation Here is the result, which, hcwever, I propose to you with the utmost diffidence. " Neither the obstacles you mention, nor the sickly state of the dear child, permit to instruct her in points of contro- versy. What you have told her till now appears to me nearly sufficient.* I would recall to her, when opportunities should offer, the amiable and pious wish of living one day in a convent and there to become a member of the Church. Should she ask any questions, I would answer her in few words without entering into the particular merits of the ques- tion, telling her that when she is better you would examine those matters together; that at present it is enough to know Jesus and him crucified; to put all her trust in him, to suffer with him, &c.; ... to wish to become a member of his Church. Which church is his? she will perhaps say. Answer: The Catholic, because the most ancient, &c. If he asks no questions, I would confine myself to what yea have said to her before. It is important that you may con- tinue to visit her. Every thing that would put an end to your intercourse with her must be avoided. " The most embarrassing circumstance will be when you see her near the period of the fatal disorder. Then, per- haps, you will be with her oftener and alone. Let the ICTO of our adorable Saviour in his sacrament and on the crow be the subject of your discourse. You might also mentioi She had probably learned from Mrs. Seton the principal points of Catholic doctrine. MRS. E. A. 8ETON 185 the anointing of the sick in St. James, and if she desires it, and it can be done, procure to her the blessing of re- ceiving the last sacraments. Could they be hard-hearted enough to refuse such a request, and at such a time ? The whole weight of their displeasure will fall upon you, but God has given you strength to bear it, and will make rich amends by his interior consolations. It is probable, how- ever, that you will not find an opportunity of accomplishing this. Should it unhappily be the case, you will have no- thing to reproach yourself with ; for if you attempt to do more than the above, it is almost certain that you will be hindered from doing any thing at all. " Your beloved sister has been made by baptism a mem- ber of the Church. Wilful error, I have reason to think, has never separated her from that sacred body. Her sin- gular innocence of mind and ardent piety have also, very likely, preserved her from offending God in any grievous manner; and I hope, in consequence, that even if she can- not receive the sacraments she will be a member of the triumphant Church in heaven, although it would be to her an unspeakable advantage to receive the sacraments, and would render her salvation more secure. Dreadful in- deed is the situation of those who, being cut off from the Church, or having offended the Almighty, depart from this world without those heavenly remedies which the Church has in store for her dying children. Happy those who like you feel their heart warm, and abound with joy and peace in the breaking of the heavenly bread, in the celebration of the holy festivals." By this wise direction Mrs. Seton was equally consoled and instructed in the course she was to pursue. She waa to make every effort consistent with a discreet and enlight- ened zeal to procure for her beloved relative the consola- tions of the sacraments; but, in the event of this being 186 THE LIFE Olf impracticable, she was to suggest to her suffering friend such considerations as, with the ho.lp of divine grace, would awaken in her heart sentiments of perfect love and contri- tion, and thus prepare her for a happy death. It pleased the Almighty, however, to raise her from the bed of sick- ness and afford her an opportunity of paying a more signal homage to the truth, of which he has made his holy Church the depositary. After her recovery, Miss Seton turned her attention more particularly to the examination of this sub- ject, and, in defiance of the most violeat opposition on the part of her relatives, she at length resolved to abandon the errors in which she had been educated, and to embrace the Catholic faith. No effort was left untried to dissuade her from this step; and such was the blind and determined zeal excited against her, that her connections kept her in close confinement for several days, threatening every extra- vagance they could think of; for instance, that she should not live with the corrupter of her mind, (Mrs. Seton,) even if she did become a Catholic, but be sent away to the West Indies, in a vessel then ready for the voyage ; that she would cause the destruction of Mrs. Seton and deprive her children of bread; and that, if no shorter way presented itself, they would petition the legislature to remove Mrs. Seton out of the State, &c. But Miss Cecilia, fully alivo to the importance of the subject, and well persuaded that no considerations whatever should be suffered to interfere with her duty to God, was prepared to make every sacrifice in order to obey the :all of divine grace. The Almighty supported her courage in a peculiar manner during hei trial, nerving her against the fiercest opposition, and, after due preparation, she was admitted into the true Church on the 20th of June, 1806. The consequences of this step were, in a temporal point of view, most painful. All her friends abandoned her, and MRS. E. A. 8ETOW. 187 left her unprovided for in the world ; and for a generous and affectionate heart like hers, and for a young person in the bloom of youth, being only fourteen years of age, of delicate health, and the favorite of her family, it is difficult to conceive how cruel must have been the pang that thus severed the ties of nature. But the Almighty seems to have selected her as an occasion of signalizing his tender mercies and displaying the wondrous efficacy of his grace. She regretted the loss of friends who had always been deal to her; but well convinced that her friends and relatives could not justify her at the tribunal of God, if she resisted the known truth and the inspirations of divine grace, she accounted all the considerations of flesh and blood as worth- less in comparison with the securing of her eternal interests, and resolutely declared to her family that she had become a Catholic, and that nothing would ever break the bonds that united her to the true Church. Her conduct throughout this trying ordeal evinced a heroism worthy of the bright- est days of Christianity. Excluded from the protection of her relatives, who solemnly avowed that she should never re-enter their houses or be suffered to associate with her family, Miss Seton sought a refuge under the humble but hospitable roof of her sister-in-law. Here she was welcomed with open arms; and these two pious and fervent souls found, in the enjoyment of each other's society, a support under the heavy crosses which they had to endure, and a mutual encouragement to the faithful and constant practice of duty. The reception of the youthful convert into her house, although a matter of duty for Mrs. Seton under ex- isting circumstances, became the occasion of increased aver- sion for her on the part of her connections. Some of them would not permit even their children to speak to her or hers, while others barely allowed her to enter their dwellings. Even they who professed tc be the ministers of charity, 188 THE LIFE OF Bishop Moore and Rev. Mr. Hobart, her former pastora, arrayed themselves against her, and, through bigotry or in- terest, called upOQ those who might have assisted her in her establishment, and warned them against having any commu- nication with her. In this state of things, all the energy of her soul was brought into requisition. Her life was a continual sacrifice and suffering, for which, however, ehe was strengthened by the grace of God, and by the sympathy and counsels of the new class of friends who had gathered around her. Soon after the conversion of Miss Cecilia, Dr. Matignon, of Boston, addressed a letter to Mrs. Seton, ex- pressive of the high regard which he entertained for her, and encouraging her to continue faithful in the new paths which the Almighty had marked out to her. " Your per- severance," he says, ^and the help of grace, will finish in you the work which God has commenced, and will render you, I trust, the means of effecting the conversion of many others. You already experience much consolation in the step taken by your dear sister, who has been led not less by your example than by the maladies and afflictions dispensed from Heaven, to embrace with so much fervor the only way to eternal life. The determination she evinced in this affair, being yet so young, and despite the serious difficulties she had to contend with, is most assuredly, as you say, a visible wonder of divine grace. Though deprived of all human assistance, or, at least, debarrgd the aid she has need of, Al- mighty Qod will not abandon her, and your prayers will not be vain. May you soon have the same happiness in the two cherished beings whom you mention with so much hope !* The pleasures as well as the troubles of this world pass very rapidly; happy they who love their friends only in God, * Two sisters-in-law of Mrs. Seton, who were favorably disposed to- ward the Catholic faith, and one of whom subsequently embraced it, M will Appear in the sequel. MRS. E. A. SETON. 189 and who hope with reason to meet each other hereafter io his eternal kingdom." Among the chief sources of comfort which Mrs. Seton enjoyed in her affliction was the society of the pious, amiable, and accomplished family of Mr. James Barry, a re- spectable merchant of New York. With all the warmth and generosity of the Irish character, they united a spirit of religion and blandness of manner which entitled them to universal respect and esteem. They were honored with the particular friendship of Bishop Carroll. Mrs. Seton was a frequent visitor at their residence, where she was always welcome, and often enjoyed their bounteous and cor- dial hospitality ; at the same time availing herself of their intelligence and piety to seek advice in the moment of need. These attentions which she received from the Barry family were always gratefully remembered. In writing to a friend about this time, she alludes with a spirit of thank- fulness to the "Barrys, whose tenderness and attention to the poor fanatic," she says, "are my sweetest earthly pleasure." From her corespondence with the Messrs. Filicchi she also derived much comfort and encouragement. Writing to her from London, November 3, 1806, in answer to a letter from her, in which she probably mentioned the in- creased opposition on the part of her family, Mr. Antonio sends her the most fervent exhortation to persevere in the noble fortitude which she had already displayed. ' " If blessed are those who are in tears," he &ays, " you, my be- loved sister, are blessed indeed. Courage and perseverance 1 The crown of everlasting glory awaits only those, you know, whc persevere to the end. . . Pray for your persecutors. Your forbearance, your fortitude, your charity, your piety, will put them to the blush at last. If not, God and I are your protectors of whom shouldst thou be afraid ?"& The 190 THE LIFE Of intelligence of his safe arrival in Leghorn, in the midst of his family, filled her heart with jjy and gratitude, and she hastened to spread the news among her friends. "What could I do," she writes to him, "but say Tc Deums; first carry the letter to Mrs. Barry, then to Mr. Hurley, or rather to our family of pastors, who shared my joy, gave thanks foi your escape, and admired that Providence who provides sucb a brother foi the poor little forsaken woman, and permitted her to go the next morning to communion, to offer the thanksgiving of inestimable value ? With my whole soul I did so.'' The escape to which she alludes was a provi- dential deliverance of Mr. Filicchi from a most perilous situation while crossing the Alps on his way to Italy. The account of this circumstance, which he sent to Mrs. Seton, is equally honorable to his piety as a Christian, and indi- cative of the profound veneration which he entertained foi her character as a servant of God. i "On the dreadful summit of Mount Cenis, on the Alps, on my way into Italy, I truly did attribute to the efficacy of your prayers in my behalf the preservation of mj limbs and life. I was in the diligence, or mail-stage with four wheels and four horses, descending the mountain in a dark, wintry night, blowing and snowing, and every thing around us covered with snow. We had a light to guide our path j but on a sudden, by the carelessness of our driver, the light was put out, and we found ourselves in the most imminent danger of missing our way and falling over the precipice The driver declared that he was not able to discern his path. We were all in the pangs of death. We could not light, we could not walk in the depth of the snow, we could not expect any human succor, and were forced to go on, trembling at each step of our horses, as if about to tumbla down into the abyss. A French lady, our fellow-traveller with an officer, was in a fit of convulsions,*when most unex- ME8. E. A. 8ETON. 191 t pectedly a lantern appeared of a poor shepherd coming up rttfi mountain as a guardian angel to save us. It was on Monday night, the 8th of December, the day of the festival of our Blessed Lady's Conception, t Early in that morning, they had all laughed at my going to mass ; but fear drew afterward ftom their lips, against their will, the awful ac- knowledgment of their forsaken principles of religion. * 1 looked immediately on you as my principal intercessor, ana you must have had certainly a great share in my deliver- ance. What wonder, then, in my readiness to be service- able to you ? Through your good example, they find me novr a better Christian than I was, and through you my mercantile concerns are blessed by God with an uninter- rupted success. I shall not therefore be so foolish as to de- sert your cause. Pray only our Divine Redeemer to extend his mercy toward me, for the most important welfare in our next life. If 1 have been happy enough to be the instru- ment of introducing you to the gate of the true Church of Christ here below, keep me fast by you when called up stairs : we must enter together into heaven. Amen." To realize this blessed hope was the object of Mrs. Seton's ardent prayers. Amid the difficulties of her position she was comforted especially by the expressions of regard and friendship which she received from Bishop Carroll and the Rev. Mr. Cheverus. The former, writing to her, under date of May 23, 1807, after giving his opinion on a matter of business, thus speaks of her and her situation : " I would add, if you stood the least in need of any motives which I could suggest, my er courageinent to you to persevere in the exercise of your con stancy, under the trials to which you have been subjected since our separation * Though you are persecuted for obey- * He bad administered confirmation in New York, in May of the pr* ding year. 192 THE LIFE Or ing the dictates of your conscience, and are not allowed to speak with freedom to persons dear and closely allied to you, yet your example, and patient, I may add, joyful suffering, must produce and have already worked their effect on the consciences of them who place a higher value on their salva- tion than all earthly things. _ For your perseverance I feel no apprehension ; but great is my solicitude for those who are debarred from receiving the instruction you could so well give them, and deprived of the bread of life ; but still I trust in God's fatherly goodness toward them, who is so able to counteract the impediments and delusions which human prudence or errors cast in the way of his favored ser- vants.'^ He then begs to be remembered by her children, to whose "innocent prayers" he attaches great importance. t Bishop Carroll, although he gave Mrs. Seton the strongest evidences of the high esteem which he had for her, was careful to maintain her in the path of humility, 'convinced that by this means only could she be preserved from spi- ritual shipwreck. He therefore tells her : " Whatever I learn or hear of you increases my solicitude, respect, and admiration. But attribute no merit to yourself on this ac- count. Whatever is estimable in you, either by nature yi grace, is God's gift and his property ; and it is beneath the dignity of a Christian, who has ever meditated on the folly as well as the criminality of pride, to glory in that which belongs not to him.", , During his stay in New York, Mrs. Seton found a faith- ful friend in the Rev. Mr. Hurley, who, as she expresses itj was "rigid and severe in a calm, but, whenever she had any trouble, most indulgent and compassionate." She knew well how to appreciate the good-will and kind assistance of him and so many others who were truly interested in her real happiness. In the midst of friends whom religion had substituted for those whom the world had taken away, the MRS. E. A. SETOtf. 193 bitterness of her trials seemed to be forgotten, and her BOU! enjoyed a delightful peace. She thus alludes to this sub- ject in a letter to Mr. Anthony Filicchi : " Upon my word, it is very pleasant to have the name of being persecuted, and yet enjoy the sweetest favors ; to be poor and wretched, and yet be rich and happy; neglected and forsaken, yet cherished and tenderly indulged by God's most favored servants and friends. If now your sister did not wear her most cheerful and contented countenance she would be indeed a hypocrite. 'Rejoice in the Lord always.' lle- joice, rejoice." Animated with such sentiments, Mrs. Seton's constant effort was, according to the advice of the apostle, to " over- come evil with good," and, by showing in her actions the excellence of the faith to which she had been admitted, to subdue the unchristian spirit arrayed against her. Her sister Cecilia walked closely in her footsteps, adhering faith- fully to the advice of her spiritual directors, to illustrate in her conduct and in the purity of her life the beauty of that religion which she had embraced. The instruction which the Rev. Mr. Hurley gave her on this subject* will be useful to all who read it in a spirit of Christian submission. After alluding to the happiness of serving Grod, he says : " It is this which you are in quest of, and which, being humble of heart, you will assuredly find. Your setting out in this pursuit was strongly marked with the divine predilection ; and, as it was then my duty to observe it, the same duty now compels me to remind you of it, and to admonish you that in all things you give proof of the sanctity of your vocation, and vindicate, by your exemplary conduct, by your submission, your humility and patience, that holy religion into whose mysteries you have been now so long initiated. * In a letter from Philadelphia, dated August 29, 1807 17 N 194 THE LIFE OF ' Look at our conduct/ was the almost only answer which the primitive Christians made to their calumniators : in fact, it proved to be such as to leave no place for a rejoinder. The arguments which they deduced from their sublimated morals, in favor of their faith, were nearly irrefragable, as we may judge from the wonderful progress it made. Alas ! cor. Id we but say so now, what converts would we not see ! ho* many returning to the fold of Christ ! ( But God is wonder ful in all his ways. He has put it in your power to magnify the wonders of his mercy, and let me exhort you not to neg- lect it. To doubt of your doing so, as also of your perse- verance, I dare not. The thought itself I would banish from my mind as a temptation. I Your deportment throughout the entire of those vicissitudes with which ' the Orient from on high hath visited you,' precludes any such unhallowed idea. But we never can be too cautious, nor as circumspect s our vocation in Christ Jesus would require. The path which you have so gloriously entered is at the best an ardu- ous one, and bestrewed with difficulties which life alone will end with. In meeting them we have indeed this great con- solation : that our Model met them before us ; that he fore- warned his disciples that all who should truly desire to serve aim would encounter them also ; that they are the only sure, unerring vehicles to transepulchral regions, and that by tolerating them future glory should be revealed to us. I And what consolation tantamount to that which flows from the very source of every good ? from that fount which rises unto life everlasting, and from which alone we can draw rortn with joy and gladness ? You, my dear child, have explored even the head of this spring. You have participated of its pellucid waters, and have experienced its exhilarating, subli- mating effects. Perhaps I have been your guide to it ; nay, have administered to you its refreshing portions. If so, let me have the comfort, both here and hereafter, to find that MRS. E. A. SETON. 195 my subserviency has been profitable, has been effectual. Re member the 17th of June.* It stands recorded in heaven and must be in your heart. Meritless as I am, witness of the transactions of that day, others bear witness likewise When we shall be called upon, may we be found side- wide 1" * By a strict observance of the excellent counsels here im- parted, Miss Seton became "a beautiful ornament" of the religion which she professed, and eventually regained the admiration even of those who thought her wisdom folly. A .ady of her acquaintance, who was much attached to her, saving become dangerously ill, she visited her daily, and nursed her with the most assiduous care."}" Here it was, at the deathbed of a common friend, that Miss Seton had an opportunity of meeting her relatives; and such was the sweet submissiveness of manner and prudence of behavior exhibited by her on this occasion, that she completely conquered the opposition of her family, who all invited her to return among them. If Mrs. Seton did not experience the same partial justice at their hands, it was not from a want of charitable and kind deportment in their regard. When, in the circum- stance just related, or at other times, she met with those of her connections who had placed themselves in a hostile posi- tion, she manifested the same cordiality and affection as if she had no cause for complaint. But what was denied on * According to her own statement, she was " united to the Catholic Church on the 20th of June, 1806." Mr. Hurley may have mistaken the precise date, or he refers to some religious act different from that which Miss Seton designates as her admission into the Church. f Mrs. Seton also assisted this lady in her last momenta, and thus peaks of her departure from this world : "Oh, how awful ! without prayer, with out sacrament, without faith! Terrified, impatient, wretched ! How shal. we ever praise enough that mercy which has placed u in th bosom of our mother!" 196 THE LIFE OF the part of her family she found in the quiet and peaceful enjoyment of her religion; so much so that she wore a con- tented and joyful countenance, and appeared to have lost nothing, even for this world, by the sacrifices which con- science had compelled her to make. In a letter to Mr. Philip Filicchi, who had so effectually aided her by his en- lightened instructions in the investigation of Catholic truth, she describes in a forcible manner the happiness she pos- sessed under all her difficulties, and the continual efforts which she made for the sanctification of her soul. " It is best," she says, " to be obliged to conquer the principle most apt to blind me in my pursuit; and my daily object is to keep close to your first advice, (with St. Francis,), to take every event gently and quietly, and oppose good- nature and cheerfulness to every contradiction; which suc- ceeds so well that now it is an acknowledged opinion that Mrs. William Seton is in a very happy situation, and Mr. Wilkes says, speaking of his professions, 'Yet Providence does not do so much for me as for you, as it makes you happy and contented in every situation.' Yet indeed how can he build who has not the Rock for his foundation ? But Mrs. William Seton is obliged to watch every moment to keep up the reality of this appearence. You know, Filicchi, what it costs to be always humble and satisfied, though when this disposition is familiarized it is the true treasure. Do do pray continually for that soul whose salvation has already cost you so much care. While enjoying the greatest happi- ness on earth, which I obtain sometimes three times a week, (the weather and children sometimes deprive,) imagine the effusions of warm and ardent affections at that moment of grateful joy and triumph, conscious that nothing on earth can add to or take from this infinite good which supplies the place of all other to the confiding soul, whose very desolation in human possessions is the best foundation for this unfail- MRS. E. A. SETON. 197 ing happiness. And then, how came this knowledge to my soul ? whose blessed hands guided it to its only treasure ? who encouraged it when sinking, and drew it on when afraid of its own salvation ? And my darling children I teach them to consider you too the source of all our consolation." As a truly Christian mother, Mrs. Seton allowed nothing, aftei the salvation of her own soul, to occupy so important a place in her thoughts and plans as the spiritual welfare of her children. They had entered with her into the fold of truth; and she taught them, both by word and example, to prize this gift of faith above every worldly consideration. So natural and affectionate was the manner in which she endeavored to impress upon their youthful minds the obliga- tion of serving God, that it could not fail to produce its full effect. (Religion and duty were subjects not reserved only for the class of catechism or the moment of prayer; they were frequently suggested to their attention. From the words of the parent, exhaling on every befitting occasion the spirit of fervent piety, her offspring imbibed a love of virtue, and learned how to appreciate its inestimable bless- ings. Nothing can surpass the admirable tact with which Mrs. Seton conciliated the warm affection of her children, and directed her influence over them to the glory of God and their personal sauctificatiou. Her language was such as to inspire them with noble sentiments and virtuous aspi- rations; to make them sensible that their highest reward was to be found in the good-will of a loving parent, and in the consciousness of having fulfilled their duty to Almighty God. In answering a note which she had received from her eldest daughter, then ten years of age, she says: "Your little letter gave joy to my heart, which loves you more than I can express, and earnestly prays to our dear Lord Jesus to bless you and make you his own." On another occasion, while her dauhter was receivin instructions from the Rev. 198 THE LIFE OF Mr. Hurley, probably as a preparation for ber first com. munion, Mrs. Seton wrote to ber in tbe following words : "MY DARLING DAUGHTER: "You must not be uneasy at not seeing me either yester- day or to-day. To-morrow I hope to bold you to my heart, which prays for you incessantly that God may give you grace to use well the precious hours of this week; and, I re- peat, you have it in your power to make me the happiest of mothers, and to be my sweet comfort through every sor- row, or to occasion the heaviest affliction to my poor soul that it can meet with in this world; and, as your example will have the greatest influence on your dear little sisters also, and you do not know how soon you may be in the place of their mother to them, your doing your duty faithfully ig of the greatest consequence, besides what you owe to God and your own soul. . . . Pray him, supplicate him, to make you his own. . . . Remember that Mr. Hurley is now in the place of God to you : receive his instructions as from heaven, as no doubt your dear Saviour has appointed them as the means of bringing you there." The piety, fervor, and unction of this maternal exhorta- tion sufficiently indicate the ardor and purity of the love that dictated it. Mrs. Seton's great ambition and happiness was to educate her children as faithful followers of Jesus Christ. With this view her two sons, as we have before stated, were placed at Georgetown College, their location at Montreal being then impracticable. But it had always been the wish of Mr. Anthony Filicchi, their generous friend and benefactor, that they should be raised at the institution in Montreal ; and he gave their mother a distant hope that she herself, with her little girls, might be admitted into a convent there, and employ her talents in the instruction of youth ( MRS. E. A. SETON. 199 while her children would have the facility of being tho- roughly trained in the knowledge and practice of the Catholic religion. This hope Mrs. Seton indulged rather as a delight- ful dream than as a prospect to be subsequently realized, because it appeared to her too much happiness to be enjoyed during her earthly pilgrimage. But her thoughts were more practically directed to it by the Rev. William Valen- tino Dubourg, President of St. Mary's College in Baltimore. He became acquainted with her in the following way. Hav- ing visited the city of New York in the autumn of 1806, he was one .morning offering up the holy sacrifice of mass in St. Peter's Church, when a lady presented herself at the com- munion-rail, and, bathed in tears, received the Blessed Sacra- ment at his hands. He was struck with the uncommon deportment and piety of the communicant, and when after- ward seated at the breakfast-table with the Rev. Mr. Sibourd, one of the pastors of the Church, he inquired who she was, rightly judging in his mind that it was Mrs. Seton, of whose conversion and edifying life he had been informed. Before Mr. Sibourd had time to answer his question, a gentle tap at the door was heard, and the next moment Mrs. Seton was introduced, and knelt before the priest of God to receive his blessing. Entering into conversation with her respecting her sons and her intentions in their regard, he learned from her the views and wishes of Mr. Filicchi, as stated above, and the remote expectation she had of removing herself, with her daughters, to Canada. .Mr. Dubourg, who was a man of enlarged views and remarkable enterprise, no sooner became acquainted with the design which she euteruuueu of retiring at some future period into a religious community, for the welfare of herself and her children, than he suggested the practicability of the scheme within the limits of the United States. Mrs. Seton immediately wrote to Bishop Carroll, informing him of what had passed between her am] 200 THE LIFE Of Mr. Bubouig, and requesting his advice in the matter "1 could not venture," she says, "to take a further step in so interesting a situation without your concurrence and direc- tion, which also, I am assured, will the more readily obtain for me the blessing of him whose will alone it is my earnest desire to accomplish." After mentioning the particulai trials she had to contend with in New York, and assuring Dr. Carroll that she had yielded in condescension to her op ponents every point possible consistently with her peace foi the hour of death, she continues : " And for that hour, my dear sir, I now beg you to consider, while you direct me how to act for my dear little children, who in that hour, if they remain in their present situation, would be snatched from our dear faith as from an accumulation of error as well as misfortune to them. For myself, certainly the only fear I can have is that there is too much of self-seeking in plead- ing for the accomplishment of this object, which, however, I joyfully yield to the will of the Almighty, confident that, as he has disposed my heart to wish above all things to please him, it will not be disappointed in the desire, whatever may be his appointed means. The embracing a religious life has been, from the time I was in Leghorn, so much my hope and consolation, that I would at any moment have embraced all the difficulties of again crossing the ocean to attain it, little imagining it could be accomplished here. But now my chil- dren are so circumstanced that I could not die in peace (and you know, dear sir, we must make every preparation) except I felt the full conviction I had done all in my power to shield them from it : in that case it would be easy to commit them to God." While Mrs. Seton was consulting Bishop Carroll in re- gard to the important arrangement suggested by Mr. Du- bourg, this gentleman was conferring with the Rev. Messrs Matignon and Cheverus, of Boston, upon the same subject MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 201 After having weighed the matter attentively, they came to the conclusion that her Canada scheme should be abandoned, and that it would be preferable to exert her talents in the way proposed by Mr. Dubourg. Mr. Cheverus wrote to her, " hoping that this project would do better for her family, and being sure it would be very conducive to the progress of re- ligion in this country." It was the opinion, however, of these distinguished clergymen that the execution of the de- sign should not be precipitate j and they therefore advised her, through Mr. Dubourg, " to wait the manifestation of the Divine will the will of a Father most tender, who will not let go the child afraid to step alone.". The wise forethought of Dr. Matignon led him to believe that Mrs. Seton wa? called, in the designs of God's providence, to be the instru- ment of some special mercies that he wished to dispense to the Church in this country. " I have only to pray God," he wrote to her, "to bless your views and his, and to give you the grace to fulfil them for his greater glory. You are des- tined, I think, for some great good in the United States, and here you should remain in preference to any other location For the rest, God has his moments, which we must not seek to anticipate, and a prudent delay only brings to maturity the good desires which he awakens within us.". Bishop Car- roll, in answer to Mrs. Seton's inquiries, informed her that, although he was entirely ignorant of all particulars, yet, to approve the plan of Mr. Dubourg, it was enough for him to know that it had the concurrence of Dr. Matignon and Mr. Cheverus. Mr. Dubourg, whose penetrating mind and enterprising spirit were so instrumental in shaping the destiny of Mrs. Seton, was born in 1766, at Cape Frangais, in the island of St. Domingo. Having been sent to France for his educa- tion, he there embraced the ecclesiastical state, and went through his course of study in a seminary of St. Sulpitiua. 202 THE LIFE Of Soon after his elevation to the priesthood, he was compelled to fly from that country by the violent persecution which was then raging against religion and its ministers, and he went to Spain, where he lived for two years. He then em barked for the United States, where not long after his ar rival he became a member of the Society of St. Sulpitius, at Baltimore. (IO) The year after, (1796,) he was appointed by Bishop Carroll president of the college at Georgetown, which, under his direction and with the aid of able profes- sors, acquired a high reputation before the public. The Sul- pitians having opened a collegiate establishment in Havana, Mr. Dubourg was sent to the aid of his brethren in that city in 1798; but circumstances having combined to frus- trate their efforts, he returned the following year to Balti- more, where in conduction with his confreres he commenced an institution for the education of youth, and laid the foun- dation of St. Mary's College. The design was encouraged by his superiors, particularly as it was hoped that the esta- blishment would furnish candidates for the ecclesiastical state. Mr. Dubourg had brought with him from Cuba several young men, who with others from the same country were the first pupils of St. Mary's. American youths were not admitted in the beginning, as the rising institution at Georgetown was considered amply sufficient for the wants of the students furnished by the United States. Full of energy, Mr. Du- bourg erected on the seminary grounds spacious buildings, which were specially adapted to the purposes of a collegiate establishment, and the increasing patronage of the public eoon gave evidence that his views and efforts were duly ap preciated and would lead to permanent usefulness. A mind like his of quick perception and comprehensive grasp, fertile in expedients and generally happy in the selection of such as were most effective couid not fail to discover in Mrs. Seton a woman of superior worth, und one MRS. E. A 8ETON. 203 whose eminent qualities might be employed with the most signal advantage to religion and society. On her part, Mrs. Seton was much amazed at the idea of her being considered a fit instrument for promoting the interest of the Church ; because she was far from forming a just estimate of her own abilities. She knew, however, that the ways of God are very different from those of men, and she bowed submis- sively to his designs in relation to her, hoping by the path of obedience to ascertain and fulfil them. In a letter to Mr Filicchi, after stating the views of Messrs. Matignon and Cheverus that she was destined to forward the progress of the true faith, she adds : " The very idea is enough to turn a stronger brain ; but I know very well HE sees differently from man, and, as obedience is his favorite service and can- not lead me wrong, according to the old rule I look neither behind nor before, but straight upward, without thinking of human calculations." In this way she resigned herself en- tirely into the hands of G-od, awaiting the further orders of his providence, to be disposed of as he might indicate through the voice of her superiors. Urged by the counsels of individuals so fully entitled to her confidence and respect, Mrs. Seton did not hesitate to relinquish the idea of removing to Canada. The opinion of Mr. Philip Filicchi, whom she had also consulted, further en- couraged her in the renunciation of that project and consoled her for the failure of her hopes. About the beginning of November, 1807, in replying to a letter which she had re- ceived from him, she says : " Your letter is indeed a cordial one I often read it to encourage and strengthen me in the disappointment of not being permitted to fulfil the so long anticipated removal of my family to Canada; which plan, originating in the benevolence and precautions of your An- tonio for our welfare, had been long contemplated in my female fancy (which you know must be active) as one of the 204 THE LIFE OF sweet dispositions of Providence among the many it hai effected for us through him. But your opinion, added tc the united sentiments of those persons whose will i's my law, has banished even the thoughts of it, (voluntarily indulged,) though naturally they present themselves on every occasion of difficulty so frequent in the particular situation in which we are placed. Quite sure I am, many would await us there; but they could scarcely be combined of materials so repulsive to my nature." While in this state of suspense, looking forward to the opportunities that God would send her for accomplishing the plan of Mr. Dubourg, Mrs. Seton's position in New York became more difficult and embarrassing. In the fall of 1807, the board of the students attending Mr. Harris's school, which we have mentioned before, fell short of tho maintenance of her family: the boys who lodged in her establishment were very unfit companions for her children; and their parents, discovering her inability to control them, thought that the advantages of their situation were much lessened by this circumstance, and complained personally on the subject, so that her remaining in it was a matter of favor Add to this that the academy of Mr. Harris was to continue for three years longer, Mrs. Seton's expenses in fuel and house-rent were enormous, her children were prevented six months in the year from attending the services of the Church, and she herself could assist at them only with inconvenience, though to be present at the offices of religion was her only comfort. In this state of things, Mrs. Seton, urged on the one hand by the shortcomings of her revenue and on the other by the spiritual dangers to which her children were exposed, after having conferred with her pious and enlight- ened friend, Mrs. Barry, and received the express direction of the Rev. Mr. Sibourd, wrote to Bishop Carroll to solicit bis advice in so important an emergency For herself, aa MBS . A. SETON. 205 she said, she was well assured that difficulties and crosses were the best companions of a Christian, and were peculiarly necessary to keep her views in the right direction; but she was compelled to claim his indulgence in a consideration so intimately connected with the happiness of her dear ones. She tLerefore unfolded to him all the circumstances of her case that she might be guided entirely by his decision But the humble and filial manner in which she approaches him is worthy of particular notice. After stating the rea- sons which induce her to encroach upon his valuable time, she says : " Now then, dear sir, I imagine you seated in your elbow-chair, and my poor self at your feet; and in the first place tell you, from the time Filicchi mentioned his resolution that my boys should go to Montreal, I have con- sidered it as a shelter offered us by Providence for the safety of my little girls, in respect to their faith, and security when it shall please God to remove me from them. You know their situation and dangers from their connections; there- fore it is useless to mention it, or my own view of advancing my own salvation. The means of executing this plan amount to six hundred dollars per annum, as certain, and liberty to claim twice that sum from the subscription Filicchi obtained for us; also in the hands of Mr. M., five hundred dollars present. I have certainly the hope that my talents, such as they are, might be made useful in the instruction of children and assist our maintenance." She then details the difficulties of her position as mentioned above, and pro- ceeds with the following statement: "The sacrifices I should make in leaving this place are centred in the dear converted sister, who now lives with her brother, (the other dear girls are not permitted to see me,) and the dear Barrys, who are individually dearer to me than any friend I have. For every other connection, they have so much distrust and suspicion of my character, considering, and justly, that 18 206 THE LIFE Off every action is involved in my religious principles, that thej certainly would rather consider it as a relief, if they knew I was in a situation conformable to my own peace. If you think it best to waive all delicacy with respect to these gentlemen who employ me, and not leave the place without their dismission, making the best of circumstances until some providential change takes place, I shall feel every thing reconciled by your decision, and in every event be convinced it is the will of God. If you think the boys may properly be removed to Montreal, and that I may remove with them, it will be my greatest security to be authorized by your judgment and permission." Mrs. Seton referred again to the plan of settling in Canada, as it was probably the only one that appeared to her practicable in the im- mediate urgency of her case. The answer which Bishop Carroll returned at this important juncture was character- ized by his usual wisdom and prudence. He informed Mrs. Seton that her two sons at Georgetown College were doing well ; but that if six hundred dollars a year would be sufficient at Montreal for their education and maintenance, and that of her amiable daughters, it was a great imduce- ment for her to remove thither, where her talents would be highly useful, if the good ladies of the convent would em- ploy them. He stated, however, an objection to this plan, which, he thought, deserved attentive consideration. "If your girls," he asked, " become dissatisfied and unhappy at Montreal, or their health injured by the climate, so that you should be obliged to leave it, (for you could not consent to let them depart without you,) are you confident of being enabled to re-establish yourself at New York?" This was a question which required to be satisfactorily answered to her own mind. As to the contract she had entered into with the Rev. Mr. Harris, principal of the school, Bishop Carroll remarked : " Surely, my dear madam, if you can- MRS. E. A. SETON. 207 not fulfil your engagements without exposing your dear daughters to improper company and occasions dangerous to the purity of their minds, you ought to take effectual mea- sures to persuade the gentleman to consent to release you from your engagements : after which, motives of economical prudence seem to require of you to make a trial of Montreal, after being well assured that you have not been misinformed as to the expense; for indeed it is incredible to me that it can be so moderate." These directions from Bishop Carroll were received by Mrs Seton about the beginning of December, 1807. In the following spring the difficulties of her pensionate already mentioned had become still more embarrassing, and, having abandoned the idea of removing to Canada, she was patiently awaiting the further manifestation of Divine Providence in her regard, sure that it would point out to her some other way when the proper time arrived. Such was the situation of her affairs when she incidentally met with the Rev. Mr. Dubourg at the residence of a gentleman who was their common friend. Mr. Dubourg having, in the course of con- versation, mentioned some particulars respecting the pro- perty of the college over which he presided, and the vacant lots of ground belonging to it, Mrs. Seton remarked, in a jesting way, "I will come and beg." These careless words afterward induced an explanation of her exact position in New York; "and," observes Mrs. Seton, " Mr. Dubourg, in- teresting himself for us as he does for even the least of God's creatures to whom he may be useful, said decidedly, ' Come to us, Mrs Seton, we will assist you in forming a plan of life which, while it will forward your views of contributing to the support of your children, will also shelter them from the dangers to which they are exposed among their Protestant connections, and also afford you much more consolation in the exercise of your faith than you have yet enjoyed. W 208 THE LIFE 07 also wish to form a small school for the promotion of i-eligioua instruction for such children whose parents are interested in that point.' You may be sure, I obj ected only want of talents ; to which he replied, ' We want example more than talents.' " It is easy to imagine how delighted Mrs. Seton must have been by this generous invitation from Mr. Dubourg, par- ticularly when he assured her that her two sons would b admitted into St. Mary's College without any expense. Dr. Matignon and Mr. Cheverus were immediately consulted in relation to the project, and they expressed at once their decided approbation of it. The latter, in the name of both, addressed a letter to Mrs. Seton without delay, in which he observed : " Such an establishment would be a public benefit for religion, and, we hope, a real advantage to yourself and amiable family. We infinitely prefer it to your project of retreat in Montreal." At the same time, Mrs. Seton con- ferred with some of her friends in New York, who were also of opinion that her removal to Baltimore was an excellent scheme; and she therefore determined to leave her native city, and to seek elsewhere for herself and her family that temporal maintenance and religious security which were not attainable in the home of her childhood. In the ar- rangement of the plan, which now wholly engrossed the mind of Mr. Dubourg, he suggested the expediency of rent- ing a two-story brick house which had been recently buih aear St. Mary's Seminary, and was well suited to the object contemplated. He thought that this would be the most prudent step in the beginning, and that the experience of the first year would enable her and her friends to judge more correctly of the proper measures to be taken for the esta- blishment of her institution on a more extensive footing. But the following letter which he wrote to her on the 27th of May, 1808, will show more in detail the character of the MRS. E. A. SETON. 209 institution which he proposed, and the resources which she had to depend on. "From your esteemed favor received yesterday, I con- clude there is no further obstacle in the way than the ulti- mate decision of your New York friends as respects the time of your removal. I cannot but approve the delicacy and moderation with which you wish the whole affair to be conducted with every person connected with you. I only gay, with Mr. Wilkes, 'the sooner will be the better.' But, to be perfectly explicit, and enable you to be so with your friends, I think I ought to enter into a minute detail of the parts of the plan which I conceive to be the most prudent to pursue in the beginning and in the sequel. I have already stated that I thought it premature to purchase a house. I would rent one for the first year. This space of time would be sufficient to obtain an answer from Italy,* and otherwise to make a trial of our strength and of our prospects. The question about the house would only be whether we should prefer one which is contiguous to our chapel, but hardly large enough to accommodate eight boarders and your own family, to another about two hundred yards distant, in which you could easily lodge twenty, but whose rent would be $400, instead of $250, which the former would be. I am inclined to think the smaller house would be sufficient for one year, because I do not feel extremely anxious to see the number of your pupils increased with too great rapidity. The fewer you will have in the beginning, the lighter your task, and the easier it will be to establish that spirit of regularity and piety which must be the main-spring of your machine. There are in the country enough, and perhaps too many, mixed schools, in which ornamental accomplishments are the * That is, from the Messrs. Filicchi, whose co-operation Mrs. Seton requested, encouraged by their generous friendship. 18* 210 THE LIFE Of only objects of education : we have none, that I know, whera their acquisition is connected with and made subservient to pious instruction ; and such a one you certainly wish yours to be. To effect it, my opinion is that none but Catholic girls, or such as would be permitted by their parents to re- ceive a Catholic education, should obtain admittance in it, True it is that, the number of such being small, it would per- haps take several years before the income of the pensions would be equal to the expense. To supply the deficiency we must depend on Providence, which has already given you sufficient encouragement, in the generous offers of your Leg- horn friend, to save us the imputation of rashness. If one yeai's experience persuades us that the establishment is likely to succeed in promoting the grand object of a Catholic and virtuous education, and if it pleases Almighty God to give you, your good Cecilia, and your amiable daughter, a relish for your functions and a resolution to devote your- selves to it, so as to secure permanency to the institution, we will then consult HIM about the means of perpetuating it, by the association of some other pious ladies who may b animated with the same spirit, and submit all our ideas to your worthy friends and protectors. If they approve of them, a lot on our ground will not be wanting, on which we may, little by little, erect the buildings which the gradual in- crease of the institution may render necessary." Under the guidance of this zealous and enlightened eccle- siastic, Mrs Seton hastened to prepare herself to set out for the field of her future exertions. The day before she left New York, he wrote to her, animating her to enter with zeal and confidence upon the course which she had determined upon: "I remain," says he, "more and more satisfied that, even were you to fail in the attempt you are going to make, it is the will of God you should make it, so great is the num- ber of circumstances concurring in its favor Among otben MRS. E. A. SETON 211 I cannot help being struck at the unanimity of all your friends, both worldly and spiritual, in recommending and encouraging it, and particularly at the eagerness with which every member of our community has received the overtures I have made them on the subject. There is not one of my respected brethren* but anticipates the greatest advantages from the meditated institution, and is ready to promote it to the full extent of his powers. Let us then now place our whole confidence in him who chooses thus to make us know his holy will, and be ready to meet with joy every contradic- tion or ill success which might attend our compliance." After expressing his approbation of Miss Cecilia Seton's accom- panying her sister, he continues : " My sister is eager to lock you in her arms, and to form with you a connection which even death will never dissolve. My little niece has written to her mamma in the effusion of her joy at the ap- proach of a new mamma and a new family of sisters. She shares (and it is not saying little) in all the sentiments of veneration and affectionate regard for you which glow in the breast of your ever devoted friend." That U, of St. Mary's Seminary and College at Baltimor*. 212 THE LIFE Of BOOK V Mr. Seton embarks for Baltimore Her sentiments daring the royagt nd on her arrival Her sons removed to St Mary's college Atten- tions received by her Happiness in her new situation Letter froo Mr. Filicchi She writes to him His generosity Commencement of an academy Exercises of the school Rev. Peter Babade First com- munion Miss Harriet Seton Mrs. Seton's attachment to her and her sisters Piety of Miss Cecilia Seton Correspondence between her and Mrs. Seton Mrs. Seton's first associate Remarkable coincidence Project of a work of charity Mr. Samuel Cooper Purchase of land near Emmettsburg Rev. John Dubois Beginnings of Mt. St. Mary's College Prediction of Rev. Mr. Cheverus Mrs. Seton is joined by others Her humility Costume and exercises of the sisters Mrs. Bcton binds herself by TOW Name of the society Further accession! Miss Cecilia Seton's sickness and voyage to Baltimore Mother Seton accompanies her to Emmettsburg Her sister Harriet's conversion. HAVING completed her arrangements for leaving New York, Mrs. Seton, with her three daughters, embarked for Baltimore in a packet on the 9th of June, 1808. What were the saddening reflections which memory recalled, and the overpowering emotions of her heart, in launching again upon the ocean, it would be difficult to describe. She could not see the shores of her native city receding from her view without drawing the contrast between the circumstances un- der which she had left it at a former period and her present situation. Then she was beloved and cherished by a nume- rous family, whose tender regards and warmest sympathies accompanied her to a distant clime; now she was an outcast, at it were, from that society in whose affections she had lived for so many years. She was an exile from the place of her birth; and her departure, instead of being ade- quately soothed by the kind attentions of her natural friends, MRS. . A. 8 ETON. 213 was rather a subject of congratulation for the unrelenting bigotry of many among them. But Mrs. Seton's faith waa equal to the fiery ordeal through which she had to pass. On board of the vessel she was kindly treated by all her fellow- travellers, which prompted her to pour forth her heart in gratitude to God, and to make a frequent offering of herself that he might dispose of her according to the designs of his providence. Much of her time during the passage was spent in prayer and acts of resignation to the divine will; and as she drew near the end of her voyage, and thought of the new career she was about to enter upon, in the midst of strangers, she threw herself with an entire confidence into the arms of Providence, burying all care and solicitude in the reflection that she was pursuing the course marked out to her by the will of God. " To-morrow do I go among strangers? No. Has an anxious thought or fear passed my mind ? No. Can I be disappointed ? No. One sweet sacrifice will reunite my soul with all who offer it. Doubt and fear will fly from the breast inhabited by HIM. There can be no disappointment where the soul's only desiie and expectation is to meet his adored will and fulfil it." Such were the fervent sentiments that accompanied Mrs. Seton to her new sphere of labor, and which were not a little en- hanced by the religious ceremonial at which she assisted im- mediately on her arrival in Baltimore. Having reached the wharf late at night on "Wednesday, June 15, she did not leave the vessel until the following morning, when a carriage conveyed her and her children to St. Mary's chapel, for the purpose of assisting at the holy sacrifice of mass, for it was the feast of Corpus Christi, and the day on which the beauti- ful church attached to St Mary's seminary was dedicated to the service of God. The splendor and solemnity of the ce- remony awakened the most lively impressions in Mrs. Seton, whose feelings were almost overpowered by the scene/ 11 214 THE LIFE OF After the service she was introduced to a new circle at friends, from whom she met that warm and cordial reception which made her feel perfectly at home. A few days after her arrival in Baltimore, she went to Georgetown for the purpose of removing her two sons from the college at that place to the institution under the charge of Rev. Mr. Dubourg. Here they were received free of ex- pense, and they enjoyed at the same time the advantage of that maternal vigilance which, when exercised with wisdom, is a considerable help in the training of the youthful heart Mrs. Seton was a woman of that sterling sense which pre- vented the proximity of her boys to her own residence from becoming an obstacle in the way of their collegiate duties. Her affection for them could not be surpassed ; but it was tempered and governed, in its outward manifestations, by that wise discrimination which knows the injurious effect which parental indulgence too often produces, in counteracting the salutary influence of academical discipline upon the disposi- tion and habits of young persons. Mrs. Seton's conversion had excited a good deal of atten tion ; but her removal to Baltimore, with a view to conduct a female academy, added to the interest with which she was looked upon by a large class of the community. Many per- sons of the first respectability called to see her, some per- haps through motives of curiosity, others from higher con- siderations, to offer the tribute of respect and to welcome her in their midst. Among those who waited on her, Colonel John Eager Howard, former governor of Maryland, and one of the wealthiest citizens of Baltimore,* deserves honorable mention. Mr. Howard paid her a visit, and, en- tertaining a particular regard for her and her family, with Known in the history of the American Revolution as the " Hero of Ctowpuns." MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 215 whom he was acquainted, he offered her a home in his ele- gant mansion in the suburbs of the city, promifing also to educate her sons and daughters as his own. A proposal like this she could not but consider as a noble act of gene- rosity on the part of Mr. Howard, and she duly testified her grateful sense of the kindness ; but in thanking him she politely declined accepting it, observing that she had not left the world for the purpose of entering it again. The visits which were paid to Mrs. Seton she would willingly have dis- pensed with had she consulted only her love of recollection and retirement ; but she followed in this the advice of her directors, who thought it better that she should not refuse herself to those who called on her. But she found chiefly among the reverend clergy warm and efficient friends, who looked upon her as an instrument in the hands of God for ad- vancing in a special manner the interests of his holy Church. The venerable Bishop Carroll was delighted to find himself in the midst of her little family circle, and they were equally orerjoyed by the paternal kindness which that excellent pre- late always manifested toward them. Although Mrs. Seton was now separated from her rela- tives and surrounded by persons whose acquaintance she had but recently formed, her situation was so preferable in every respect that she could scarcely believe her own happi- ness. A comfortable dwelling and well adapted to her pur- pose, numerous and influential friends, who took the liveliest interest in her welfare, the brightest prospects of success, every heart caressing her, " the look of peace and love on every countenance," and, above all, her close proximity to St. Mary's chapel, which afforded every facility for devotional exercises, all this, so different from what she had experienced in New York, caused her heart to overflow with joy and thankfulness. Writing to a friend a short time after hei change of residence, she says : " I find the difference of situa- 216 THE LIFE OS 1 tion so great that I can scarcely believe it is the same ex< istence. All those little dear attentions of human life which I was entirely weaned from are now my daily portion from the family of Mr. Dubourg, whose sister and mother are un- wearied in their care of us. The little necesssities which I cannot afford are daily sent to us, as a part of their family, and in every respect my condition is like a new being. The fence of our boundary is the only division from a beautiful chapel, which is open from daylight till nine at night. Our house is very neat, placed between two orchards, and two miles from the city. 02 ' My prospects of an establishment I leave to God Almighty." So great an improvement in the situation of Mrs. Seton was too important an event not to be immediately communi- cated to her friends at Leghorn. No person on earth was more ready to share her joy or to sympathize in her sorrows than Mr. Anthony Filicchi; and, while she was penning a letter to inform him of the change that had taken place, the following expression of his devoted friendship, in answer to a previous communication from her, was on its way to her from Italy. "You are right, you are but just, in never ad- mitting, (as you declare in your last letter,) among your fears and thoughts, the criminal one of my ever having less interest or affection for my virtuous American sister, my boasted of holy converts. In spite of distance and of the interrupted correspondence of which you complain, you never before were so present in my mind, never so purely deep in my heart as now. As we both grow old, our com- mon end, heaven, must draw us daily nearer each other, till we meet again, and shall shake hands together, to part no more. . . I rejoice in the good behavior and improvement of your boys and girls. A Christian education will be the best inheritance you can leave to them. . . . My friends, the Hurrays, have repeated orders from me to supply MBS. E. A. SETON. 217 might be wanting in others. You must caii on them aa regularly as agreed on between us, and as often as you may be in want. If you attempt to disregard your brother's direction in this respect, I will not write you any more. I will try not to think of you, if possible. My means are to- day double of what they were at the date of my subscription.* In the universal stagnation of trade, fortunate speculations have largely made up for the loss of our usual consignments from the United States. A special Providence is visible in every step of ours. If you are heard so much in heaven in my behalf, should I be so ungrateful as to desert you on earth ? It is mortifying indeed to receive, but mortification is the duty of a Christian." To a friend who felt so lively an interest in her happi- ness, the intelligence of her removal to Baltimore could not fail to be most welcome. In apprising him of it she was aware that the undertaking she was about to commence might ut a later period demand considerable expense, and prudence required that she should not venture too far with- out knowing on what resources she might confidently de- pend. She, therefore, wrote to Mr. Anthony Filicchi, to consult him in a matter which was in some degree to be com- mitted to the generous disposition which he had already manifested toward her; and it will be seen that in doing this she only anticipated the magnanimous proposals of the letter which we have just cited After informing him of the circumstances which more immediately led to her re- moval from New York, and that through the benevolence of him and other friends she had been enabled to bring one thousand dollars with her to Baltimore, she adds : " Here we are under the sheltering wing of beings who live only to promote the glory of God and to help the friendless and * That is, the annual contribution of $400 toward her support, which becpn in 1806. 19 218 THE LIFE OF distressed. 1 removed my boys from Georgetown imine. diately, and Mr. Dubourg has received them in the college, free of all expense to me, and I may make use of your gene- rous allowance to assist our maintenance. As our plan does not admit of taking any but boarders, and those Catho- lics, it cannot be forwarded with that speed which attends an institution founded on worldly views. Yet there is every hope that it will gradually succeed, as it is committed solely to the providence of Almighty God. Should I, my dear Antonio, enter into a detail of the effects of the unexpected, and to me immense, happiness of living in such society aa here surrounds us, every soul breathing only divine charity, the sweet company and friendship of one of the most amia- ble women in the world, the sister of Rev. Mr. Dubourg, who suffers me also to call her sister, a chapel the most ele- gant in America, and very little inferior to some in Florence, so near my dwelling that I can hear the bell at the altar, oh, Filicchi ! you who know so well how to pity your sister will gladly receive the account of this happy reverse. The gentlemen of the seminary have offered to give me a lot of ground to build on. It is proposed (supposing such an ob- ject could be accomplished) to begin on a small plan, ad- mitting of enlargement if necessary, in the hope and expec- tation that there will not be wanting ladies to join in form- ing a permanent institution. But what can a creature so poor in resources do? I must trust all to Divine Provi- dence. . . . With that frankness I owe to you, from whom no thought of my mind should be concealed, I dare to ask my brother how far and to what sum I may look up to yourself and honored brother in this position of things ? What you have done is so unmerited by the receiver, what you con- tinually are doing for us is so much more than could in any way ba expected, that I force myself to ask this question, whicl is, however, necessary ta the regularity of my proceed- MRS. E. A. 8ETOIT. 219 ings and the respect due to these reverend gentlemen who interest themselves so earnestly in our regard. At all events, whatever may be the result of this letter on your dear heart, let it not be a moment checked in the sentiment which is my greatest happiness in this world. Write, I conjure you, Antonio; if you think your poor little sister even wrong, at least pity her, and love her forever as she does you." In thus appealing to the munificent friendship of Mr. Filicchi, Mrs. Seton felt on the one hand that fear, which was the natural suggestion of prudence, that she might be presuming too much upon his aid, while on the other she was encouraged, by his noble and repeated offers, to trust largely in his assistance. Although his beneficiary, she was induced by his generous manner to waive all delicacy in accepting and even in soliciting his kindness. He found 80 much pleasure in supplying her wants, he urged her so emphatically to draw upon his means, he reminded her so constantly that he considered her in a great measure the occasion of his increased prosperity in this world, that he made the acceptance of his generosity appear as much in the light of a favor conferred upon him as a service rendered to others. All this he had manifested in his previous let- ters; and his answer to Mrs. Seton's last communication was equally significant of his sterling and practical friend- ship. "I am extremely pleased," he says, "in seeing you out of New York, among true Christians, surrounded by all your children, and under the holy tuition of such worthy persons as those you mention. To promote the establish- ment you intimate, so much approved of by my Cheverua and Matignon, you will please to draw on our friends, J. Murray & Sons, of New York, for one thousand dollars, charging the same to the account in the world to come of my brother Philip and of your brother Antonio. If some- thine; more should be wanted, you are commanded to quote 220 THE LIFE Of it to ma plainly and positively. Your prayers have so muct bettered our mercantile importance here below, that, in spite of all the embargoes, political and commercial troubles which have caused and will cause the utter ruin of many, we pos- sess greater means now than before, thanks to Go4, with the game unalterable good- will." Although Mrs. Seton did not receive this additional testimony of Mr. Filicchi's friendship for many months after she had written to him, she was well assured, by hia uniform kindness, that in case of need his co-operation in her undertaking would be cheerfully and efficiently be- stowed. Encouraged also by all around her, she opened her boarding-school for young ladies about the beginning of September, and easily obtained the limited number of pupils that she proposed to educate. The main .object of her institution being to impart a solid religious instruction and form the youthful heart to the love and practice of virtue, only the children of Catholic parents were admitted. Besides morning and evening prayer, they assisted regu- larly at the holy sacrifice of the mass and the recitation of the rosary. The remainder of the time was devoted to the usual branches of female education, as reading, writing, arith- metic, plain and fancy needlework, and the English and French languages. The study of the Christian doctrine, however, was the principal object of their attention, which Mrs. Seton endeavored to impress deeply upon their minds. Though the institution which she had opened implied on her part no obligations arising from a special consecra- tion of herself to God, yet she looked forward to the mo ment when such a vocation would be manifested by Divire Providence; and she regulated her actions as if she Lad al ready commenced a life of religious seclusion, living retired from the world, and applying herself only to the duties of her charge and what would tend directly to the advance- MRS. E. A. SETON. 221 merit of her spiritual welfare. Hence, she paid no visits but those which business or charity required. In retirement from the world she found a blessed peace, for she thereby escaped the distractions cf secular life, and was enabled more easily to commune with God in the meditation of hea- venly things; or, as she herself expresses it, she was "in the secret of God's tabernacle, where alone safety was to be found, with true liberty and sweet content." Her visits to the Blessed Sacrament were frequent, and she approached the holy communion every day, unless some particular cir- cumstance prevented it. In this constant attention to holy things she found her greatest happiness, setting to profit the means of sanctification which she enjoyed, and prizing them above all worldly advantages. We may judge of her recollection, fervor, and interior joy, from the language which she employed in alluding to her spiritual privileges : "Every morning at communion, living in the very wounds of our dearest Lord, seeing only his representatives, and re- ceiving their benediction continually." Besides the scholastic exercises mentioned above, it was usual to read to the pupils every Friday the narrative of our Saviour's passion, to inflame their hearts with a becoming sense of gratitude and love for their divine Redeemer. The religious instruction of the scholars was confided to the Rev. Peter Babade, of the society of St. Sulpitius, and a professor at St. Mary's College. Soon after Mrs. Seton formed his acquaintance, she discovered in him a spirit con- genial to her own a man of vivid fancy and ardent tempera- ment, with a frankness and suavity of manner which won her entire confidence and led her to select him for the di- rection of her conscience. Mr. Babade frequently visited the school, and was the spiritual father and protector of the little family of which Mrs. Seton was the head. In the spring of 1809 he prepared some of the children for the im- 10* 222 THE LIFE Off portaut duty of first communion which took place at tha close of a spiritual retreat. On this occasion Mrs. Seton was transported with the heauty and holiness of the scene around her. The solemnity of the season, it being the pas- chal time, the impressive services of the Church, and youth- ful innocence sealing its consecration to our Lord by an in- effable union with him in the sacrament of his love, all con- tributed to enliven her faith and inflame her soul with the most ardent devotion. Writing to a sister-in-law at thia time, she thus alludes to the spiritual delights which she enjoyed: "0 Cecil, Cecil, this heavenly day, and the hea- venly week that is past every hour of the week filled with sacred sorrow ! and this day imagine six of us, the girls all in white, as modest as angels, receiving from the hands of our blessed father Babade our adored Lord. He had been all the week preparing them, and every night our little chapel has resounded with love and adoration. This morn- ing, in the subterraneous chapel of the Blessed Virgin, in the very depth of solitude, on the tomb of our Lord,* he celebrated the adorable sacrifice and dispensed the Sacred Passover. His tears fell fast over his precious hands while he gave it, and we had liberty to sob aloud, unwitnessed by any, as no one had an idea of our going there. What a scene ! Could you but have shared it ! Immediately after, the dear Mr. Dubourg came down, and said the mass of thanksgiving, served by our father Babade, whose gray hairs looked more venerable than can be expressed. Every night we have Benediction. Imagine twenty priests, all with the devotion of saints, clothed in white, accompanied by the whole troop of the young seminarians in surplice* also, all in order, surrounding the Blessed Sacrament ex* An altar, with an opening in front, containing a representation of V Baviour in a state of death. MRS. E. A. SET ON. 223 posed, singing the hymn of the resurrection. When they come to the words, ' Peace be to all here,' it seems as if our Lord is again acting over the scene that passed with the assembled disciples." This happiness which Mrs. Seton experienced was a source of great satisfaction to the few cherished friends whom she had left on removing to Baltimore, but particu- larly to her sisters-in-law, whom we have already mentioned as sympathizing warmly in her trials and remaining stead- fast in their affection despite the frowns of her adversaries. These true and faithful relatives, although pained by the separation which deprived them of her valued society, re- joiced for her sake that she had found, at a distance from her native place, increased happiness for herself and her children. Miss Harriet Seton wrote to her immediately after her departure from New York in the most affectionate strain. After expressing the intensity of her suffering by the loss she had sustained, she adds: "But why should I have but one pang? When 1 can already view you in the bosom of happiness, can fancy 1 see your dear countenance brighten with joy when pressing to your breast your sweet little boys, for a moment I can almost cease to regret your absence; but, when reflecting that that absence, in all human probability, may be an eternal one, I shudder. I am resolved to think so no more: it cannot be. HE is too good and generous to permit a separation between those who love him so tenderly : by some means or other he will surely unite us. I will cling to that dear hope with confidence. It will support me under every trial, be the soother of every pain." These words, though not prophetic, were predictive of truth. Every thing seemed to oppose the prospect of her ever being united with Mrs. Seton in this life; and, sur- rounded as she was by the gay and fashionable society of New York, greatly admired for her personal charma, and 224 THE LIFE 0V losely watched by her family on account of her known pre ference for the Catholic religion, she feared that these obstacles might prove the cause of an eternal separation fiom her whom she so much loved. In addition to this, she had pledged her heart and hand to a step-brother of Mrs. Seton, who was not a Catholic, a circumstance which would only have increased the difficulties to be encountered in the event of her determination to embrace the true faith. Yet she hoped as it were against hope; and, when she heard of the happiness enjoyed by her relative in Baltimore, she was prompted both by affection and a spirit of religion to sigh for a reunion. Alluding to the account Mrs. Seton had given of the friendship she met with in her new situation, she says, "Where is it, my beloved sister, you could go without meeting with kindness and affection ? They must indeed be insensible beings who know you without loving you. Your description is delightful. Every thought, every hope, flies toward the happy spot you have pictured. Oh that I may one day be there, but not in my present state, to be happy! Let me enjoy the precious privilege of serving God in your blessed faith. What comfort can I have in my own, when I know there is a better? Dearest sister, pray for me always; never forget me when in the chapel. Recollect, at sunset, I shall always meet you at the foot of the cross in the Miserere. What a sweet remembrance I" These aspirations of her soul, as we shall see in the sequel, were all realized by the merciful dispensations of Provi- dence, in defiance of the obstacles which in the nuturai course of things seemed to render it impracticable. In the mean time she found alleviation of her pain in correspond ing with Mrs. Seton, and in the society of her sister Cecilia, who, as we have seen, had so heroically, at the age of fifteen ; triumphed over every opposition to her union with the Catholic Church. Sho thus speaks of her in a letter to hei MRS. E. A. 8F.TON. 225 Btster-in-law in Baltimore. "November 29, 1808. At last I am here, close by my Cecil's elbow, a situation that mon- archs might envy. It is here alone that my poor heart feeli some little cessation from pain and sorrow. What anguish the most acute could not be hushed in her dear society! Her presence actually works a charm upon my mind. I almost forget that pain ever found a place in my bosom. Oh, my dearest sister, if it was so that I could be permitted to remain, how sweetly we should pass the winter, thinking, speaking, writing to you ! The world should be forgot, with all its various vanities, and we should lose ourselves in thoughts of heaven and you. It is too much to think of. What pleasure, what happiness, could be equal to it? None that could give my heart more real satisfaction. You know I have been closely allied to little misery for these four 01 five years past, and need some consolation to keep me from going to wreck. Such being the case, surely my darling will not refuse an innocent request from one who loves her with affection that no language can describe; it is to let me share a portion of your thoughts the 27th of December. It must ever be a day of bitter agony to you ; yes, to us all ;* but, as it was the will of our dear Lord, we must bow sub- missive and kiss the rod. Will you, can you, uiy sister, call to remembrance that on th;it duy your Harriet was ushered into existence, not to repost- upuu a bed of ruses, but of thorns, and for many years back has been accustomed to share your tenderest thoughts and receive some rules of conduct for the new year, some little affectionate letter of advice and comfort blended? I now stand more in need of this than ever, and sh;tll si^h fir flu- arrival of that day that brings me if only OIK- line I.* - \ t:, I w..,. remembered at ho to it ol' the cross.' * The anniversary of the day on which tier brother, Mrs. Seton'i huiband, died. f 226 THE LIFE or Mrs. Seton, on her part, entertained the warmest affeo- tion for her sisters in New York, and felt the deepest solici- tude for their welfare, especially for the three who still re- mained in the Protestant communion. They were alwaya in her thoughts, and were daily commended to God in her prayers. " In my dear, sacred communions," she saysj " which are almost every day, often my soul cries out 80 much for you all that it seems impossible to express the de- sire in any words, but a deluge of tears is the only relief." On another occasion, alluding to two of these cherished souls, she says, "They little know what my soul endures for them. Sweet, precious beings ! gladly, joyfully, would their own Bister give the last drop of her blood for them !" But, knowing well how sensibly her absence was felt by Miss Cecilia Seton, the generous little convert to Catholicity, Mrs. Seton ardently desired and prayed that the Almighty would permit her to join her in Baltimore. This young but eminently pious Christian had always found in Mrs. Seton a beloved companion, a counsellor in her difficulties, and a consoler in the hour of trial; and she could not but suffer intensely by a separation from so loved and valued a friend. Nothing, however, could abate her fervor in the practice of religion. Although left alone among her Protestant rela- tives, she persevered with constancy in the faithful perform- ance of her duties. Her actions were all regulated by a rule having the approbation of her director; and, though its ob- servance was not always perfectly agreeable to human nature, cdedience made it "sweet and easy," supporting her continu- ally with the thought that she was accomplishing the will of Heaven. In the frequentation of the sacraments ghe found her "greatest earthly happiness," and her soul overflowed with consolation at the thought of the blessings imparted in the holy communion. It gave her unspeakable pleasure to hear from her sister in Baltimore; but she did not too easily MRS. E. A. SETON. 22T jricld to the impulse of natural affection; to purify her in- tention she would sometimes before opening her letters offer her heart to God or make an act of resignation. Hav- ing chosen a heavenly spouse to whom she had consecrated all her affections, she firmly resisted the allurements of the world when it sought to withdraw her from that holy life which she had embraced. Entirely dependent on the care of an affectionate brother, who was a Protestant, Miss Seton was at times under the necessity of enduring with patience what otherwise her piety would have invincibly opposed. On one occasion, she was compelled by her brother to assist at a theatrical exhibition, which she did with the utmost reluctance and unwillingness, and only for the sake of escaping a greater evil. But, though present in body, her mind was far from mingling in the excitement of the drama. To prevent her eyes from falling upon those objects which others have so much curiosity to see, she placed her little niece on her lap before her, and, instead of paying any at- tention to what was passing around, she spent the time in the recitation of the rosary. The Catholicity of Miss Cecilia Seton rendered her situation any thing but agreeable among her Protestant relatives. Some of them treated her with the utmost kind- ness, while from others she met with "angry words and cross looks," as she herself expresses it. Her religion was abused in her presence, its "abominations" descanted upon, and, between those who wished her out of New York and others who held her back, she knew no alternative but to suffer in silence for the love of God. "I would go any- where else," she says, "and be the meanest servant. . . . Was there not an all-wise Creator to direct, and a Jesus to recompense for our pains, I know not what I should thins of my situation." In these trials she was strengthened and onsoled by the reflection that she was suffering persecution THE LIFE Of for justice' sake, for that Divine Master whose grace would enable her to bear it. " How sweet is it to feel that we suffer with and for Jesus! My soul truly rejoices. The cup is at first bitter, but in it there is an unknown delight for those that truly love. Dear, dearest sister, if I was with you I should not have these sighs, these tears, these maiij offerings to make. I fear my scales would be very light.' In transmitting an account of her situation to Mrs. Seton she recommended herself to her prayers, expressing the firm conviction that God would in his own good time deliver her from this conflict. The answer which she received will show that she could not have unbosomed her feelings to one who would be a better support to her amid the contra- dictions which she suffered. " Yes, my Cecilia, favored of heaven, associate of angels, beloved child of Jesus, you shall have the victory, and HE the glory. To him be glory forever who has called you to BO glorious a combat and so tenderly supports you through it. You will triumph, for it is Jesus who fights, not you, my dear one. Oh, no ! young and timid, weak and irreso- lute, the lamb could not stem the torrent nor stand the beating storm: but the tender shepherd takes it on his shoulder, casts his cloak about it, and the happy trembler finds itself at home before it knew its journey was half finished. And so, my dear one, it will be with you. He will not leave you one moment, nor suffer the least harm to approach you ; not one tear shall fall to the ground nor ono sigh of love be lost. Happy, happy child ! and if you are not removed to the sheltering fold that awaits you, he will make you one in his own bosom until your task is done. Happy, happy child ! how sweet must be your converse with that Divine Spirit which puts in your heart, yet so inex- perienced, so untutored, the science of the Saints ! How mist those blessed beings rejoice over you, while walking MRS. X. A. SETOW. 229 40 steadfastly in their paths and their sufferings ! It is poor sister who must beg you to pray for her. I am at rest, my darling, while you are mounting the heights of Sion. Often, too, I sleep in the garden while you are sharing the hitter cup : hut it is not to be so long ; his mercies are endless, and I shall not be left without my portion. Pray for me that it may not come from within : that, and that alone, is real anguish. As it is, I am daily and hourly receiving the most precious consolations, not with the enthusiastic delight you know I once experienced, but gently, gratefully offering to resign them in the very moment of enjoyment. Your letter will be food for thanksgiving and joy in our dear Lord beyond all human calculations. I would willingly go through any bodily suffering to receive such a feast for the soul. What shall I say in this case? God alone is sufficient. Our blessed Padre* has wept with joy at reading your letter; I have also consulted Mr. Dubourg, and all agree that it is a case which the hand of man must deem sacred and consign to God alone ; but not without the assurance that all our prayers are and shall be united for your most precious soul's support and consolation. . . . My darling child, may you be soon released if it is his blessed will ! but the sacrifice must be consummated, and sister's soul prays for you unceasingly, nor is it unaided by prayers of much more worth. How many holy souls are perpetually united for that end I ... A. thousand blessings be with you." August 8, 1808. To be associated with her sister, enjoying every facility for the entire dedication of herself to God, would have com- pleted the happiness of Miss Seton. But even in this she strove to conform herself to the divine will. When she was apprised of Mrs. Seton's arrival in Baltimore and the cheer- ing prospect before her, the tears gushed from her eyesj but, ROT. Mr. Babade. <230 THE LIFE OF as she remarks herself, they were not tears of regret or im- patience to be with her, hut of a soul wholly resigned to her God, desiring only his will, and even feeling happy at being permitted to make so great a sacrifice. On the other hand, every day and every hour she became more and more dis- gusted with the world and all that belongs to it, and her thoughts involuntarily turned upon the happiness of being with her sister. "I feel my situation," she says, "daily more painful. It is God only that can know all. It seems to me he will not let it remain long so. I am hourly in fear of splitting on the many quicksands and rocks which surround me. Oh, sister, when shall I be delivered from them? And when I think of being with you it's like think- ing of paradise." Such were the elevated motives that prompted her desire of retiring from the world. She had in view only the glory of God and her own sanctification ; looking upon a state of religious seclusion not as a life of ease and pleasure, but one of penance and humiliation. To ascertain the divine will in her regard, she prayed frequently and with fervor to the Father of lights, offered her communions for this purpose, and made known to her spiritual guide all the circumstances of her situation and the dispositions of her soul. At length, in the spring of 1809, he expressed the opinion that the Almighty called her to a state of religious seclusion, and directed her to place her trust in him until he would appoint the moment for the accomplishment of her wishes. When Mrs. Seton commenced her institution in Balti- more, she had no certain prospect of forming a society whose members would be specially consecrated to the service of God. Such an undertaking was to depend on circumstance* which could only be developed in the course of time. la the autumn of 1808 the designs of Providence began tc MRS. . A. SETON manifest themselves more particularly in her regard. The Rev. Mr. Babade, being on a missionary excursion at Phila- delphia, became acquainted with a young lady (Miss Cecilia O'Conway) who was desirous of seeking a refuge from the distractions of the world, and for this purpose was preparing to cross the Atlantic. Having informed her of Mrs. Seton' s intentions, she was induced to change her plans and remain in America. Her father accompanied her to Baltimore, and offered her to Mrs. Seton as a child whom he consecrated to God. On the 7th of December, Miss O'Conway became her first companion, and assisted in the school then under her charge. In this manifestation of Divine Providence Mr. Babade thought that he discerned the commencement of an undertaking which would gradually collect round Mrs. Seton a numerous band of spiritual daughters, and he applied to her, requesting her at the same time to repeat continually those words of the 112th psalm, " Who maketh the barren woman to dwell in a house, the joyful mother of children." About this time another circumstance took place which still more plainly indicated the will of God in reference to the good work. Mr. Cooper, who was then a student in St. Mary's Seminary, at Baltimore, intending, if such were the divine will, to prepare himself for the sacred ministry, pos- sessed some property; and he was desirous of literally follow- ing the maxim of the gospel : " Go, sell what thou hast, and give it to the poor, and come, follow me." One morning, immediately after receiving the holy communion, Mrs. Seton felt a strong inclination arise within her to dedicate herself to the care and instruction of poor female children, and to organize some plan for this purpose that might be con- tinued even after her death. She communicated this to the Rer. Mr. Dubourg. "This morning," she said, "in my dear communion, I thought, ' Dearest Saviour, if you would but give me the care of poor little children, no matter how poor;' 232 THE LIFE or and, Mr. Cooper being directly before me at his thanksgiving, I thought, ' He has money : if he would but give it for the bringing up of poor little children, to know and love you!"' Mr. Dubourg, joining his hands, observed that it was very strange ; for Mrs. Seton had not mentioned the subject to any one else. " Mr. Cooper," said he, " spoke to me thui very morning of his thoughts being all for poor children's instruction, and if he had somebody to do it he would give his money for that purpose ; and he wondered if Mrs. Seton would be willing to undertake it." The good priest was struck at the coincidence of their views, and he requested them ea-ch to reflect upon the subject for the space of a month, and then to acquaint him with the result. During this time there was no interchange of opinion between Mrs. Seton and Mr. Cooper in relation to their wishes ; and at the expiration of it they both returned separately to Mr. Dubourg, renewing the sentiments they had expressed be- fore, one offering a portion of his temporal means* and the other her devoted service for the relief of the poor and suf- fering members of Christ. The providence of God in behalf of the American Church was so clearly indicated in the cir- cumstances just related that little room was left for delibera- tion. Bishop Carroll, having been informed of the design, gave his warmest approbation to it, in conjunction with the Rev. Francis Nagot, the saintly superior of St. Mary's Semi- nary; and the only question that now presented itself for consideration was in reference to the locality of the intended establishment. Mr. Dubourg, who was the prime mr.ver in the undertaking, was anxious to have the institution in the city of Baltimore or its vicinity. But Mr. Cooper gently insisted upon the selection of Emmettsburg as a more conve- nient situation; and the good priest, taking his words as pro- Eight thousand dollars. MRS. E. A. SETON. 238 phetic, replied, "Be it Emmettsburg." Mr. Cooper's prefer- ence for this situation was no doubt founded upon the phy- sical and moral advantages which it offered for a religious community. Far from the bustle and dissipation of the city, remarkable for a pure and healthy atmosphere, and sur- rounded by the wild grandeur of its mountain scenery, it pre- ented peculiar attractions for a conventual establishment. The munificent aid contributed by Mr. Cooper toward the proposed institution justly entitles him to be considered one of its principal benefactors. He, like Mrs. Seton, had been called from the highway of error into the fold of Catholic truth. Born in Virginia, in the very heart of Pro- testantism, he engaged in maritime pursuits, and visited dif- ferent parts of the globe. Falling dangerously sick at Paris, he felt himself urged to read the Holy Scriptures, with which he had not yet been acquainted. This reading greatly in- terested him, and caused him to reflect seriously upon the unhappy consequences of being unconcerned about the future. The New Testament particularly made a deep im- pression upon his mind, and to it he mainly attributed his conversion. While he read of the ineffable goodness of the Son of God, he burned with love for him without yet know- ing him, and he ardently desired to have a friend like Him whose history he had perused. One day he heard, or thought that he heard, a voice saying to him, " If you wish me to be your friend, it depends only upon yourself." Some time after, while at London, always occupied with the same thought and engaged in reading the New Testament, in which he continually discovered new beauties, he heard the same voice addressing him a second time ; but it did not in- dicate to him the way of acquiring the happiness to which he aspired. He therefore opened his thoughts and feelings lo a Protestant friend, who advised him to examine the claims of the different Christian denominations, with tht 20* 234 THE LIFE 01 view of embracing that which would appear to him the besW founded in truth. Accordingly, he provided himself with the doctrinal hooks of the various sects in England, and re- turned to the United States, resolved to enter seriously upon the investigation of the subj ect. A Catholic lady completed his sources of information by giving him a work that treated of the orthodox faith.* In the course of his inquiries he also consulted Bishop White, of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Pennsylvania, and other clergymen of note, espe- cially to satisfy his mind in regard to the reasons that had led to the separation from the Catholic Church in the 16th cen- tury. The result of this examination was the conviction that the reformation, so called, was altogether indefensible; and in the autumn of 1807, during the visitation of Bishop Carroll at Philadelphia, he became a member of the true Church. Mr. Cooper being a man of fortune, and having mingled in fashionable life, his conversion produced a great sensation in that city. Soon after this happy event he was moved by the grace of God to embrace the ecclesiastical state, and he entered the seminary at Baltimore in Septem- ber, 1808, where he formed the acquaintance of Mrs. Seton and became a co-operator in the charitable work which she now contemplated. The vicinity of Emmettsburg having been selected for the location of the sisterhood projected by Mrs. Seton, Mr. Dubourg turned his attention to the purchase of an eligible rite; and, on a visit to that part of the country shortly after he bought the land now held by the Daughters of Charity, about half a mile south of the village. At that time the only tenement on the farm was a very small stone building, form- ng about one-half of what is now used as the wash-house of the institution. The property was settled in the joint Ami de la Religion, December, "".843. MBS, E. A. SETON. 238 tenantship of the Rev. Wm. V. Dubourg, Rev. John Dubois, and Samuel Cooper. The Rev. Mr. Dubois was at that time located near Emniettsburg, being pastor of several con- gregations in Frederick county and piincipal of a school which he had recently established. His important conneo tion with the future history of Mrs. Seton requires that w should introduce him more fully to the reader. Born in Paris on the 24th of August, 1764, he was re- markable from his early years for those qualities which dis- tinguished him in after life, piety, energy, and perseverance. Having finished his scholastic course with great honor to himself, he embraced the ecclesiastical state, and was ele- vated to the priesthood in the year 1787. He officiated in Paris until the outbreak of the revolution, when, like many others of his brethren, he was forced to seek an asylum in a foreign land. Having arrived at Norfolk, Va., in July, 1 791, he obtained from Bishop Carroll the necessary faculties for officiating at that place and at Richmond. Furnished with commendatory letters from General Lafayette, he formed the acquaintance of many distinguished men of the times in this country, among whom were James Monroe and Patrick Henry, to the latter of whom he was indebted for occasional lessons in the English language. The kindest attentions were paid to him by these and other illustrious individuals; and it was undoubtedly owing to their intervention that he was permitted to offer up the holy sacrifice in the capital of Virginia, where but a short time before a Catholic priest bad been compelled, in visiting his flock, to disguise himself for the protection of his person and life. When he had acquired some knowledge of the English tongue, Mr. Dubois was ap- pointed by Bishop Carroll to the charge of the congregations of which Fredericktown, in Maryland, was the central point; and from the year 1794 to 1808 he was continually employed \n passing from one station to another, preaching, aduiinis- 236 THE LIFE OP tering the sacraments, and instructing the young. By hi* exertions the first Catholic church at Frederick was erected, and from this place he visited once a mouth, and alternately, the church in the village of Emmettsburg and a chapel at the base of the mountain, about two miles from the town. At this period the country around wore but slight traces of cul- tivation ; the wildness of the forest was visible on every side. In November, 1805, the two congregations above mentioned assembled on the brow of the hill, cleared a sufficient space for the site of a house, and, having hewn logs for the purpose, they erected a small one-story residence, containing two rooms.* In the following spring they commenced the build- ing of a brick church higher up the mountain, which was completed in 1807."}" Mr. Dubois soon after took possession of the log-house, and, together with the pastoral duties which he performed, commenced a school for the instruction of youth in knowledge and piety. This school was originally held in a small brick house at some distance from the moun- tain, but was soon removed to a more commodious log tene- ment on the rise of the hill. (W) Mr. Dubois having in 1809 become a member of the society of St. Sulpitius, to his care were transferred the pupils of the preparatory seminary, near Abbottstown, Pennsylvania, the object of which was to form professors for St. Mary's College and students for the seminary at Baltimore. *' In the spring of that year six- teen youths were conveyed from the institution in Penn- sylvania to the establishment near Emmettsburg, which was now designed as an ecclesiastical school and an appendage of that in Baltimore. But the salubrity of its situation, the pure and delightful water that abounded on the spot, and above all its remoteness from the vices and distractions of a Known afterward as Mr. Duhatnel's boose. f The present church on the mountain, but sine* enlarged and inv froTtd. MRS. E. A. SETOlf. 237 city, induced many parents to solicit admission for theii children, though not aspirants to the priesthood; and their request was granted the more readily as, besides forming many young persons to virtue and science, it afforded useful employment to ecclesiastical students, who, in pursuing higher studies, could devote a part of their time to the teaching of inferior classes. By this arrangement also they, as well as the institution, were relieved from the expense of their edu- cation, and the house was supplied with a body of competent instructors. The undertaking succeeded beyond the most sanguine expectations of its zealous and holy founder Such was the beginning of Mount St. Mary's College, which has become so fruitful a nursery of science and religion, and rendered such important services to society and to the Ame- rican Church. From this period its history will be found closely interwoven with that of Mrs. Seton and the com- munity under her charge. While the preliminaries of her undertaking were in pro- gress, Almighty God was disposing the hearts of many to co-operate in the good work, and language almost prophetic was addressed to her in reference to its successful accom- plishment. Rev. Mr. Cheverus no sooner heard of the pro- posed institution than he wrote to Mrs. Seton in the follow- ing words, dated April 13, 1809: "How admirable is Divine Providence ! / see already numerous choirs of vir- gins following you to the altar. I see your holy order dif- fusing itself in the different parts of the United States, ipreading everywhere the good odor of Jesus Christ, and teaching by their angelical lives and pious instructions how to serve God in purity and holiness. I have no doubt, my bebved and venerable sister, that He who has begun this work will bring it to perfection." Of this result Mrs. Seton had the fullest confidence, for every thing indicated the blessing of God upon the undertaking, and daily event* 238 THE LIFE Of seemed most happily to concur in bringing it to maturity She was now hailed far and near as the mother of a new and spiritual family, whose proudest distinction would he to wear the badge of Christian perfection; and her heart expanded with joy at the anticipation of the blessings which they were chosen to dispense. "The scene before me," she says, "is heavenly; I can give you no just idea of the precious souls who are daily uniting under my banner, which is the cross of Christ. The tender title of mother salutes me everywhere, even from lips that have never said to me the common salu- tation among strangers." The second lady who offered herself as a candidate for the new sisterhood was a Miss Maria Murphy of Philadel- phia, remarkable for her gentle and amiable disposition. She left the house of her mother without her consent, in obe- dience to what she deemed to be the will of God for the sanc- tification of her soul, having previously ceded the little pro- perty she possessed to her relatives. Mrs. Seton endeavored to prevail upon her to return to her family, but her tears and prayers were victorious, and she remained with the full approbation of her parents. She arrived in Baltimore some time in the month of April, 1809. In May of the same year two others hailed Mrs. Seton as their spiritual mother, Miss Mary Ann Butler of Philadelphia, and Miss Susan Glossy of New York, the former only a few days before the latter. Several ladies in Baltimore were also preparing themselves at this time to join the community, while others in the vicinity of Emmettsburg looked forward with delight to the blessings which they hoped to enjoy under the spi ritual guidance of Mrs. Seton. The following letter to her, trom one of these postulants, will show the lively joy awak- ened by the expectation of her coming, as well as the piety and zeal which formed the elements of the new undertaking ''Oh, my reverend mother! I cannot tell you what an effect MRS. . A. 8 ETON. 239 tnat sweet letter had on me. It seems to me it has en- kindled in uiy breast flames which I hope with the grace of God will never be extinguished. . . . My ghostly father de- sired me to offer up my communion, not only for you accord- ing to your desire, but to obtain of our dear Lord an increase of the sentiments which he has been pleased to inspire me with, through you, his servant. I also implored that day the intercession of the Virgin Mary, that she would vouchsafe to beg for me of her blessed Son our Lord all the requisite dispositions which I hope will fit me for the happy life which I sue for. You asked me, dear mother, if I did not wish to see the sisters. I do. But is it not a weakness in me? I am afraid I seek for some consolation, and I know I ought not. Oh, when shall I be indifferent about any thing, even spiritual comforts? This I must learn at your school : for you must know I am but a child : I only begin to crawl in the ways of God; and that interior spirit which detaches us from every thing that is not God, and makes the true spouse of Christ, I have yet to acquire. I stand some- times on the top of our dear Mount St. Mary's, whence I can see the happy spot that is to receive you and my sisters and myself, and I can hardly contain my joy." May 2, 1809. Mother Seton, as we shall hereafter call her, possessed in an eminent degree that fervor which she communicated to others; but the sentiment of her own un worthiness pre- dominated in her heart. She looked upon herself as alto- gether unsuited to the task of forming souls to the practice of the Christian virtues ; and on the evening of the day that it was assigned to her by the bishop and clergy, her spiritual advisers, she was seized with a transport of mingled love and humility, in reflecting upon the subject. Being with two or three of her sisters, and the discourse turning upon the probable designs of Providence in their regard, Mother Seton became so penetrated with the awful responsibility, 340 THE LIFE 07 nd sense of her own incapacity, that she was almost incoc soluble. For some momenta she wept bitterly in silence, then, throwing herself upon her knees, she confessed aloud the most frail and humiliating actions of her life from her childhood upward; after which she exclaimed, in the most affecting manner, her hands and eyes raised toward heaven and the tears gushing down her cheeks, " My gracious God ! You know my unfitness for this task. I who by my sins have so often crucified you, I blush with shame and confu- sion. How can I teach others, who know so little myself, and am so miserable and imperfect?" The sisters who were present were overwhelmed by the scene before them, and, falling on their knees, gave vent to their tears and painful emotions. Mother Seton having now received four candidates into her house, it was the opinion of Mr. Dubourg that the time had arrived for their assuming, as far as practicable, the form of a religious community. She therefore proposed to the sisters to appear in a habit like that which she wore her- self, and which consisted of a black dress with a short cape, similar to a costume that she had observed among the reli- gious of Italy. Her head-dress was a neat white muslin cap, with a crimped border, and a black crape band around the head, fastened under the chin.* This costume they assumed on the 1st of June, 1809, and the next day feast of Corpua Christi they appeared at the public service in St. Mary's Chapel for the first time in their conventual habit, receiving the divine sacrament of the altar as the seal of their conse- cration to God, and gladdening the hearts of all who wit- nessed this edifying scene, so full of promise to the Church. Mr. Dubourg, in particular, was in raptures at the spectacle presented by this little band of devoted sisters, which had Mrs. Seton had worn this dress since the death of her husband MRS. E. A. SETON. 241 been formed under his wise superintendence and waa to be the germ of so much good to religion and society/*' Mother Seton herself, with a soul glowing with charity and delight, organized her community by the adoption of such rules as circumstances permitted. Regular hours were appointed for the daily actions and duties of the sisters, who were employed partly in attending to the domestic concerns and partly in conducting the exercises of the school. Stated days were fixed for the reception of the holy communion, and the sisters were exhorted to practise the mortification of the tongue and other senses, and to apply to certain studies for the purpose of qualifying themselves for fulfilling the future designs of Providence. No particular religious insti- tute had yet been adopted for the final organization of the society ; but it was deemed expedient that Mother Seton should bind herself, at least for a time, by some special act of consecration, to the holy life she had embraced; and for this reason she made a vow privately, in the presence of Bishop Carroll, obligating her for the space of one year to the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience. With what sentiments she assumed this additional obligation may be best gathered from the language in which she herself alludes to it. The object of it, she says, was to embrace poverty, in whose arms she desired to live and die, and from which, in- deed, she had no means of escape ; to promise a chastity so dear and lovely that she esteemed it her true delight to cherish it ; and, above all, to bind herself to obedience, the true protection and safeguard of her soul. To give to the new community all the care and support which the success of such an institution demands, the Rev. Mr. Dubourg was appointed its ecclesiastical superior, whatever form it might tubsequently take. Various names were suggested for the designation of the society; but this point could not be well determined until the adoption of a permanent rule which 21 9 242 THE LIFE OF would give a fixed character to the institute. However, at the request of Mother Seton, it was agreed that the members of the community should be called " Sisters of St. Joseph ;" for it was the dictate of her piety to place herself ana society, sisters and children, under the protecting care of St. Joseph, the faithful guardian of the Son of God on earth. Shortly after the adoption of the conventual habit, ths sisterhood had an accession of two members from the city of Baltimore, Mrs. Rose White, a widow lady, and Miss Catha- rine Mullen. Divine Providence at the same time was waft- ing to this abode of Christian piety another soul, whose highest ambition had long been the total consecration of herself to God, under the maternal guidance of Mother Seton. This was Miss Cecilia Seton, her sister-in-law. As we have stated, her spiritual directors had finally decided that she was called to religious seclusion ; but circumstances seemed to forbid the immediate execution of her wishes. The Almighty, however, listening to the fond aspirations of her heart, which looked only to his greater glory, accom- plished in her behalf what human calculations could not achieve. She fell dangerously ill, and her physician deeming it expedient for her safety to try the effect of a sea-voyage, she at once expressed a wish to visit Baltimore, where she was confident of meeting with the tenderest care from Mother Seton. The arrangements were accordingly made, and her sister Harriet, already mentioned, who had been her constant nurse and was nearest to her heart, was appointed, among other attendants, to accompany her, to share her sufferings, and in all probability to receive her last sigh. On the 12tb of June they landed at Baltimore, Miss Cecilia's symptom* having grown much less favorable than at her setting out from New York. But she was now in the arms of one Whom she delighted to call her sister, her friend, her mother} MRS. E. A. SETOW. 243 and it would be difficult to describe the joy of these devoted beings in meeting each other again. Miss Cecilia's attend- ants having remained with her a few days, returned to New York, with the exception of her sister Harriet, who had intended also to return, but was compelled to stay with her beloved and suffering relative in consequence of her disease becoming still more alarming. In this state of things the physicians who attended her in Baltimore advised a jaunt into the country; and it was immediately determined that Mother Seton should accompany her to the mountains of Emmettsburg, the site of her contemplated institution. As soon as the necessary arrangements could be made, she, with her two sisters-in-law, her eldest daughter, and Sister Maria Murphy, left Baltimore in a coach, on the feast of St. Aloysius, 21st of June, and on the following day the party arrived at Emmettsburg.* The house on the land belonging to the sisterhood not being as yet habitable, the Rev. Mr. Dubois, President of Mt. St. Mary's Seminary, kindly offered them the log-house on the mountain, a little above the seminary, and paid them all that attention and hospitable care for which he was proverbial.f A few days * Among the papers of Mother Seton we find the following note of the journey to Emmettsburg, which shows that, although the ladies tra- velled a great portion of the way on foot, they proceeded with light and joyful hearts. "We were obliged to walk the horses all the way, and have walked ourselves all except Cecilia nearly half the time : this morning four miles and a half before breakfast The dear patient was greatly amused at the procession, and all the natives astonished as we went before the carriage. The dogs and pigs came out to mot us, mi 1 the geese stretched their necks in mute demand, to know if we were any of their sort, to which we gave assent." In this happy description we have an illustration of that wonderful cheerfulness for which Mother Seton was remarkable. f At this time Mr. Dubois had vacated the log-house on the hill, and removed tc the buildings at the foot of the mountain, provided for tb eminary 244 THE LIFE Of after, tne two younger daughters of Mother Seton joined hei at the mountain cot, an humble dwelling indeed, but holy and venerable in the remembrance of all who beheld it adorned with the beauty of every virtue. Measures were immediately taken to put the farm-he use on the property of the sisterhood in a fit condition to be oc- cupied. In the mean time Miss Cecilia Seton recovered her health, at least temporarily, and began to enjoy the facilities which that favored spot afforded for innocent re luxation and pious contemplation. As soon as her strength permitted it, she would sally forth, in the company of Mother Seton and her sister Harriet, to ramble in the woods that led to the heights of the mountain, enjoying equally the pure and invigorating air and the beautiful prospect of the romantic country around. On other occasions, she would accompany Mother Seton and her children to the little church, situated above them on the hill, to offer the morning or evening adoration, or to assist at the holy sacrifice of mass. Her sister Harriet, however, not being a Catholic, never followed them into the chapel, but either walked in the woods or seated herself on a rock in front of the church, musing within herself, and desiring to be with her compa- nions in the holy place. One evening in July, when the sun was about to sink behind the tops of the trees that cover the summit of the mountain, and every thing in nature was lovely, Miss Harriet looked on every side, her soul feasting upon the beauty of the scene. Still, a sad depression stole over her mind. She saw the little band ascend the steps of the chapel and the door close after them, while she remaiced alone, as it were, an outcast from God's holy temple. Sink- ing at the foot of a tree, she was overpowered by her feel- ings. The tears course I down her cheeks, and her soul became the theatre of the most conflicting emotions. Mother Seton, on returning from the church, finding her in this state of de MRS E. A. 8ETON. 246 jection, inquired the cause of her distress. At first no replj was given; but, on being pressed to explain her grief, fihe exclaimed, " Why, oh why cannot I go into the church with you all?" "And why not," replied Mother Seton, "if you wish it? If you cannot perceive the sweetness of His pre- sence as we do, at least you might say your prayers." Re- joiced by this encouraging answer, she ever after accompanied her friends to the chapel, and was a pattern of recollection and devotion. She often remarked, speaking of the moment of the elevation, that " she thought she could not feel a more awful impression if our adored Lord was really before her on his clouds of majesty." At length, on the feast of St. Mary Magdalen, knowing that the divine sacrifice was offered for her both in Baltimore and at the Mountain, and seeing her sister Cecilia, Mother Seton and her daughter Annum, all before her at the heavenly banquet, her heart was over- powered; yet it struggled on in the conflict between nature and grace until, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, "stealing up to the church by the light of a full moon, in deepest silence, her arms crossed upon her breast, and the moon's reflection full on her pale but celestial countenance, I saw," says Mother Seton, who describes the circumstance, " the falling tears of love and adoration, while we said, first the Miserere and then the Te Deum, which from her child- hood had been our family prayers. Descending the moun- tain, she burst forth the full heart : 'It is done, my sister; 1 am a Catholic : the cross of our dearest Lord is the desire of my soul : I will never rest till he is mine.' " Mother Seton, well aware of what she would be compelled to endure on her return, (for she had formed an engagement that made a return obligatory,) represented to her the conse- quences of the step she meditated, in order to prepare her heart for a full and perfect sacrifice. " Yes," she replied, "1 have examined all this in my own mind. I have 246 weighed well the consequences; aud the engagement I have made I will keep, if, as a Catholic, I ain received by those dear friends to whom I am sincerely attached; but I cannot remain a Protestant; and if, as a Catholic, I am rejected even by this dear one, (showing the miniature of him whom she had promised to marry,) I MUST SAVE MY SOUL." If nothing more of interest had occurred luring Mothei Seton's brief sojourn on the Mount than this happy change in the religious sentiments of her beloved relative, this would have been amply sufficient to render it an ever memo- rable period. She remained there only till the end of July; but, in the few weeks that she passed in that holy and se- cluded spot, a triumph of grace had been achieved which afforded her another source of abundant consolation amid the trials to which her faith had subjected her. BOOK VH. Mother Seton and her companions remove to St. Joseph's Valley The conventual house Elements of the sisterhood Design of the institute IU rules First retreat Counsels of the Superior Discipline en- forced Employment of the sisters Privations Miss Harriet Seton Her fervent piety and death Sympathy for Mother Seton The com- munity move to a new building School commenced Illness and death of Cecilia Seton Condition of the institution Visit of Bishop Cheverus Rev. John B. David Second retreat Correspondence be- tween Mother Seton and Mr. Filicchi Her gratitude Efforts for the permanency of the house. WHILE Mother Seton was enjoying the hospitality of Rev. Mr. Dubois in the little cot above the seminary, the house on the newly -purchased property, destined for St. Joseph's MRS E. A. 8 ETON. 247 community, had undergone the necessary repairs to make it habitable. The arrangements having been completed, she removed thither on the 30th of July, accompanied by her three daughters, her two sisters-in-law, and three members of her community, two of whom were from the immediate neighborhood. On the same day, the other portion of the sisterhood who had been left in Baltimore started for Em- mettsburg, agreeably to the directions of Mother Seton. The travelling party consisted of nine persons, among whom were her two sons; and they performed the journey in a wagon, which, with the quantity of furniture and baggage it contained, afforded no great convenience as a mode of con- veyance; but the anticipation of their happy home in St. Joseph's Valley awakened among the sisters a lively joy, which was equally shared by their companions. On the feast of St. Ignatius, July 31, they reached Eramettsburg, and were received with a most affectionate welcome by Mother Seton and those around her in the little dwelling where the contemplated society was to continue its humble beginnings. To any but those who had entered upon a life of sacrifice and penance for God's sake, the community- house would have appeared insupportable. It was a small tenement, as we have already stated, consisting of one story and a garret, having only two rooms on each floor. Here were crowded together sixteen persons, many of whom had been reared amid the comforts of life, and all of whom had been better situated in the world : but, as the saintly leader of this generous band of women afterward observed, the daily offering of the holy sacrifice, and the happiness of possessing the Blessed Sacrament, in a little closet just wide enough to hold a small altar, made many things convenient which otherwise could not have been borne. At this period the sisters were ten in number, including Mother Seton, who could not have been aided by more competent subject* 248 THE LIFE OF to carry out the design which she then contemplated.* All were full of zeal for the new undertaking, and animated with an ardent desire of consecrating themselves to God in the ser- vice of their neighbor; while some were particularly qualified by their education for the mental culture of youth, and others had a special capacity for conducting the equally important matters of the household department, which at that time imposed no small degree of labor upon the sisters. Among them also were those whose peculiar attraction was to cultivate the interior life, while others evinced a more marked disposi- tion for the active offices of charity. Thus did Divine Provi- dence, in laying the foundations of an institution which was to combine the sanctification and perfection of its members with the practice of the most exalted and diversified charity toward their fellow-beings, select the fittest materials for the execution of his design, and exhibit in the rising community every variety of talent and virtue that could place it on a solid footing. But, as nothing important, either in spiritual or temporal matters, can be accomplished by a numerous society without the observance of a certain order in their employments, rules were adopted for the community until such time as it would receive a more permanent organiza- tion. Mother Seton having determined, in conjunction with the ecclesiastical superiors, to form the institute upon that of the "Daughters of Charity," founded by St. Vincent of Paul, in France, measures were immediately taken to pro- cure the constitution and rules of that society; and it was hoped at the same time that some of its members would visit this country, in order to aid the rising community of St * The following are the names of those who composed the sisterhood : Mrs. Eliza A. Seton, Cecilia O'Conway, Maria Burke, Susan Glossy, Mar; Ann Butler, Rose White, Catharine Mullen, Saruh Thompson, Ellen Ihompson, Cecilia Seton. MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 249 Joseph's by their experience and example.* Another im- portant object of attention was the erection of a more com- modious residence for the sisters. The contracted space to which they were confined affording no conveniences for the different exercises of the house, workmen were soon employed to put up a log-building of sufficiently ample dimensions, and every effort was made to accomplish the undertaking with the utmost despatch. In the mean time the temporary regu lations of the sisterhood were observed with as much exacti- tude as practicable under the circumstances. The sisters were directed to rise at five o'clock in the morning, and, after vocal and mental prayer until half-past six, they assisted at the holy sacrifice of mass, reciting the first part of the Ro- sary on their way to the chapel and the second on return- ing. After breakfast, at nine o'clock they made an act of adoration of the Sacred Heart, and attended to various em- ployments until a quarter before twelve, when they devoted a few moments to examination of conscience, adoration, and reading of the New Testament. During dinner one of the community read a portion of the Holy Scriptures. After the recreation at two o'clock there was a reading from the Fol- lowing of Christ, an adoration, and work until five; then visit to the Blessed Sacrament, and recitation of the third part of the Rosary. At supper the Spiritual Combat was read. After the recreation, at half-past eight o'clock, there was a spiritual reading, followed by prayers, when the com- munity retired. These rules, while they contributed to the order and regularity of the house, presented to the sisters abundant means of sanctification. In order to inspire them with a lofty estimate of their holy vocation and with zeal in the performance of their duties, a spiritual retreat the first of * The Rt. Rev. Benedict J. Flaget, Bishop elect of Bardstown, who was then about to embark for France, was commissioned to obtain th rules of St. Vincent. 250 THE LIFE OF the community was opened on the 10th of August by the superior, the Rev. Mr. Dubourg, who in his daily instruc- tions enforced the great truths of religion and the motives of Christian perfection, in that eloquent and impressive manner for which he was distinguished. Besides the daily course of exercises prescribed to the sisters, they were directed to employ themselves in office* of charity, in the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, ac- cording to the opportunities which Providence would supply. Among their spiritual duties, mental prayer was to be con- sidered as holding the first rank, and the sisters were ex- horted to perfect themselves as far as they could, with the help of divine grace, in this holy art of conversing with God ; remembering that recollection and disengagement are the two principal dispositions required in those who wish to practise it successfully. After meditation, spiritual reading and examination of conscience were deemed of the greatest importance. Besides the reading in common, the sisters were directed to read something also in private, and to meet once a week for a conference on spiritual matters. In re- gard to the reception of holy communion, the superior makes the following judicious remarks, in a letter to Mother Seton, September 13, 1809 : "I have often reflected oil the danger of frequent regular communions in a community. That danger must strike you as it does me. Repeat then very often to our daughters that the rule does not prescribe any number of communions in the week, but only restrict* them to three, leaving it to the prudence of the director to permit whom he thinks fit to approach so frequently, or render communions more rare with certain individuals. Nothing should so often be inculcated as the dispositions necessary for very frequent communion, and the assurance that the superior will never judge of the merits of a sister from her approaching oftener or more seldom, but from the MRS. E. A. SETON. 251 fruit she derives from it. The extraordinary fourth com- munion in the week should be limited to the feasts of OUT Saviour and Blessed Lady, and three or four of the patron?, such as St Joseph, St. Vincent de Paul, St. Aloysius, and St. Francis de Sales. This limitation will set a greater value on that favor and excite a greater devotion on those days." In the same communication Mr. Dubourg expresses his great satisfaction in hearing that a " generous competi- tion to please God in their superiors reigned among all the sisters." Charity, the queen of virtues, reigned supreme in thia favored spot. All seemed united by one common aspiration, and aided each other in fulfilling the duties of their voca tion. The sisters found ample employment in their spiritual and domestic affairs, in the instruction of youth and the care of the sick. The scholastic exercises demanded as yet but a small portion of their time, as the narrow space to which they were confined rendered it impossible to conduct a school, properly so called. The only class held at this time consisted of the two boarders who had followed Mother Seton from Baltimore, and her three daughters. But, inde- pendently of this, the sisters found sufficient scope for the exercise of their industry in the variety of domestic employ- ments which a community necessarily presents, while their charity was called into requisition by several families in the vicinity that were afflicted with sickness. Even when her own house was filled with patients suffering from the fall fever, the zeal and charity of Mother Seton did not with- hold from others the valuable services of her spiritual daugh- ters. The Rev. Mr. Dubois, chaplain of the sisterhood, cele- brated mass every day in its humble chapel; and on Sun- days, after the early service at St. Joseph's, he officiated either in the village church or that on the mountain. It was customary for the sisters to attend this late service, a 252 THE LIFE OF circumstance which contributed much to the honor of reli gion, by the edifying example which they displayed on theii way to the church, reciting a part of the Rosary, and in the holy place assisting with piety and recollection at the divine office. They also rendered important assistance on such occasions, in decorating the sanctuary of religion and per- forming the duties of the choir. But there was another cir- cumstance connected with their Sunday visits to the moun- tain, which deserves to be specially recorded. After the morning ceremony, they and the young ladies under their charge would assemble at a place called the " Grotto," whose associations are sacred in the recollection of all who ever frequented that interesting spot. The grotto was a roman tic part of the mountain, a little above the seminary, where nature displayed itself in all its rude and picturesque beauty. Huge rocks, overgrown with moss, and projecting over a ravine where a crystal stream gurgled down the hill in the midst of dense foliage and wild flowers of various hues, such were the attractions that had made it a favorite resort. Here, too, the hind of piety had planted the cross the sym- bol of our redemption, and erected the image of her who is justly styled the Help of Christians. Here would Mother Seton, before taking the simple repast with her little band, invoke the divine blessing, by reciting the "canticle of the three children;" and none that ever witnessed it could ever forget the tones of that voice and the fervor of that heart which, in the midst of the wild scenery of nature, called upon all creatures to bless and magnify their Creator. Christian mortification was a characteristic feature of tlu sisterhood ; and, from the description which Mother Sel,m has given of it, we may infer that its inmates had begun in earnest to labor at the work of their sanctification. "So earnest was every heart," she says, "that carrot-coffee, salt pork ; and buttermilk, seemed yet too good a living." One MBS. E. A. SETON. 253 *f the sisters who had lived in ease before her retirement from the world is thus spoken of in a letter written from St. Joseph's at this time : " She is making fine progress in the paths of penance, and drinks carrot-coffee with as good a grace as if she had been used to mortification all her life, and takes dry bread at breakfast as if it was really her choice. Besides, her eloquent tongue has a continual embargo on it, except in recreation; and this is no small penance, you may suppose, to us all." The contracted residence of the sisters not allowing them to conduct a school which would afford the means of support, and the funds of the house being entirely absorbed by the purchase and improvement of the property, the revenue of the institution was not commensurate with the expenditure required for so numerous a family; and, owing to these circumstances, the community were at first reduced to a very destitute condition. For this reason, a beverage was manufactured from carrots, to supply the place of coffee, and was sweetened with molasses. The bread used by the sisters was mad,e of rye, and of the coarsest de- scription. "For many months," writes one of the com- munity, "we were so reduced that we often did not know where the next day's meal would come from." On Christ- mas-day they considered themselves fortunate in having some smoked herrings for their dinner and a spoonful of mo- lasses for each. But these privations, far from being unac- ceptable to the sisters, were welcomed as marks of the divine protection; and they vied with each other in making light of the inconveniences they had to suffer. Mother Scton, notwithstanding the difficulties to be encountered, seemed to be the more rejoiced that the Son of God found her com- munity worthy of sharing his cross. Often, in a kind of transport, she would exclaim, her arms extended toward heaven, " Oh, my sisters ! let us love him : let us ever be ready for his holy will. He is our father. Oh, when we shall be 22 254 TUB LIFE OP in our dear eternity, then we will know the value of suf- fering here below !" She never ceased to inculcate to her spiritual daughters the duty of sanctifying their souls, and thus preparing themselves for any good work in which it would please God to employ them; but, knowing well that they could become worthy instruments of the divine good- ness only by an entire disengagement from themselves and the world, she endeavored, both by word and example, to in- spire them with a sincere love for the cross of Christ. Nor were opportunities wanting for the generous practice of self- denial, as the preceding narrative shows and as will appear still more from the sequel. But, in the midst of many trials, the community of St. Joseph's presented abundant sources of consolation, among which the admission of Miss Harriet Seton into the Catho- lic Church is deserving of particular notice. We have seen that this young lady, convinced of the truth, foimed the generous resolution of embracing it, despite the formidable difficulties which such a step would naturally create on the part of her relatives and friends abroad. From the mo- ment she resolved upon it, her whole aim was to prepare herself for a worthy reception of the sacraments. Every means of promoting her spiritual welfare was set to profit. She joined the sisters of St. Joseph's in all their exercises with a most cheerful grace, and united with them in the most common labors, bearing the hardships of their living as if she had always been accustomed to it. But, aa the happy day approached on which she was to seal her conse- cration to the service of God by a first union with Jesus Christ in the sacrament of his love, her soul was filled with holy raptures, and the joy which she felt displayed itself visibly in her ardent zeal to adorn the altar for that blessed occasion. It was the festival of Our Lady of M ercy, the 24th of September, a day of heavenly delight to fcei MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 255 and of lively joy to the whole community, but particularly to Mother Seton. The following sentiments, which she penned on the same day, will better illustrate the state of her mind than any words of description. " Is it so, my Jesus ! source of all delight ? Have I this day received you into my heart ? a thought too ecstatic ; a thought replete with the purest, the most celestial happiness ! Is it so ? JVsus, my all, has condescended to enter my unworthy breast, to converse with me, to ^all me his own ! He will no longer permit me to be a stray sheep; he has taken me on his shoulders, and carried me home to repose in peace on his divine bosom. Eternal praises and thanksgivings would come short of what I would wish to render to him for all his mercies in calling me to his holy Catholic Church, the only true faith. Oh, may this day of heavenly happiness be marked in heaven, this day on which my fervent and firm resolutions to remain until death therein were sealed and signed by his precious body and blood ! May I ever find in his adorable sacrament the same ardent desire, the same fervent wish, to be for eternity united to Jesus!" To consolidate this happiness by setting to profit the opportunities which she enjoyed in the solitude of St. Jo- seph's Valley, she solicited from her friends in New York a further leave of absence than had at first been obtained Her request, however, not being granted, she took occasion to urge it still more forcibly upon their favorable considera- tion. In a letter to a married sister, whom she viewed in the light of a mother, she says, "Your long-expected letter, my beloved mother, has at length arrived, but, with it, not, as I had fondly anticipated, a compliance with the wish I had recently expressed, an intention, I thought, very far from displeasing or giving you the smallest pain, and one which, from the very particular and critical situation of oui dear Cecilia's health, might naturally be expected. But, 256 THE LIFE OF with my usual sincerity on all occasions with you, I m #, and feel it my most sacred duty to tell you that, sin?e my absence from Greenhill,* that revolution of sentiment you in all probability feared a fear of which no part of the family, I believe, were divested at the time of my leaving home has already taken place. I have united myself to Cecilia by another tie, stronger that any that ever linked out hearts before, the sacred tie of religion. A union of senti- ment on this point, I feel very confident, will meet with many reproaches from all those so dear to my heart j but, after once experiencing the full conviction of having acted, not, as many may think, from the thoughtless caprice of the moment or under the influence of persuasion, but in con- formity to the irresistible conviction of that monitor within which forcibly led me to the step I have taken, all that can or does follow will be insufficient to shake my firm re- solution to adhere to it. My motives are known to God alone, in whose power only it is to develop the secret inten- tions of the heart. Under the existing causes, then, I think, combining all circumstances, you will consent to gratify my wish of remaining where I am. My affection and attach- ment for you can end but with my life. A happier day may come, when I shall have an opportunity of disclosing the extent of it." She then alludes to her matrimonial en- gagement with Dr. Barclay Bayley, and expresses her de- termination to fulfil it, provided his sentiments toward her be not altered by her conversion to Catholicity. " Should guch a change, however, take place, I shall endeavor," she Bays, " to seek my peace and happiness where I cannot be disappointed." We have placed this letter before the reader to show the invincible courage with which Miss Seton nerved herself * The residence of her brother-in-law's family. MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 257 gainst every opposition to the step she had taken. Home and Kindred, the favor of friends, the pleasures of the world, all were accounted as nothing, so far as they conflicted with the one thing necessary the salvation of her soul. She would rather be denounced in the company of true believers and endure the hardships and privations which the humble cot of St. Joseph's then imposed, than, at the sacrifice of her interior peace, shine in the gay circles of the world or taste of its fascinating but delusive joys. In this generous re- solve she was doubly confirmed by the grace of that invigor- ating sacrament in which the Holy Ghost with his manifold gifts descends into the Christian soul. This happiness she enjoyed on the 20th of October, when Bishop Carroll honored St. Joseph's sisterhood with a first visit and administered the holy rite of confirmation. Additional light and energy could not have been more opportunely imparted to this young and fervent convert ; for no sooner did the intelli- gence of her union with the Catholic Church reach New York than she became an object of censure and persecution, while no small share of the dreadful mischief was attributed to the " siren voice" of Mother Seton. The reproachful letters of her friends and the learned ones of controvertists were darted upon her ; but, equally regardless of the impu- tations cast upon her sincerity and upon her wisdom, she only looked forward to the "supernal prize," striving, by a frequent approach of the sacraments and by exercising every mark of faithful souls, to prepare herself for the rewards of eternal life. She soon became ripe for heaven. During the autumn and winter of 1809, the sisterhood of St. Joseph's was severely tried by sickness as well as privation, an event which the cautious observer easily anticipated. Bishop Car- roll, writing to Mother Seton in the beginning of November, remarks : " I cannot reflect with patience on your situation and that of your dear sisters for this winter : for Mr. Du- 22 B 258 THE LIFE OF bourg says you cannot go into your new house till the new year, and surely that is no time to remove. I hope and trust that, contrary to the appearance of your open and in- convenient house, you may not any of you get your deaths." Whether this circumstance contributed or not to the genera- tion of disease, the sisterhood was for several months an infirmary. Among the patients was Mother Seton's eldest son, who, having been seized with a nervous fever, was sent to St. Joseph's, to be nursed under the immediate eye of his loving parent. But, with the scant accommodations of the house, it was next to impossible to provide the suffering boy with the conveniences which his situation required. Afterward he became so ill that the last rites of religion were administered to dispose him for a happy death. His decease being momentarily expected, the sisters were already pre- paring for the issue of such an event, and his aunt Harriet assisted in arranging the shroud : but it pleased God to re- store the health of the child, and the shroud destined for him shortly after enclosed the earthly remains of her who had made it. While attending with unremitting care at the bedside of her invalid sister Cecilia, she was seized with a violent fever which soon brought her to the verge of the grave. Such were the amiable qualities and shining virtues of Miss Harriet Seton, that she had become endeared to every member of the community; but on the bed of sickness her eminent piety shone forth with a lustre which excited the admiration of all around her. When fever parched her burning lips, when the throbbings of the temple indicated the intense sufferings of the head, when insensible as it were to every thing else, speak but of God, of heaven, of eternity, and her sinking faculties seemed to revive. To the last sh manifested a great confidence in the intercession of Mary, in whose honor she wore the holy scapular : but her devotion to the blessed sacrament of the altar was of the most livelj MRS. E. A. SETON. 259 *nd ardent description. Since her first communion she had received weekly, and sometimes oftener, this bread of an- gels, and during her sickness it was a source of unspeakable joy to her heart. Even in the moments of delirium produced by inflammation of the brain, all her thoughts seemed to be engrossed by that divine object ; and the last sign of remain- ing life and reason that she exhibited was an effort to join the sisters in a hymn at the benediction. She then sank into a stupor, from which she passed to the sleep of death on the 22d of December. The following day her precious re- mains were conveyed, amid the tears and prayers of her companions, to the silent woods, and deposited in the very spot which she herself had chosen. During the preceding summer, Mother Seton had one day invited the sisters to take a walk and select a place for a cemetery. Miss Har- riet Seton accompanied them. Some designated one spot, some another ; but the attention of Miss Seton was arrested by a large oak-tree before her, and, having an apple in her hand, she playfully threw it against the tree, saying, in a loud tone of voice, " This is my spot." Her words were predict- ive; in four months she reposed there, the " first-fruits of them who sleep" in St. Joseph's Valley. Though the decease of her cherished sister was a severe trial to Mother Seton, she derived abundant consolation from her lively faith, which viewed the afflictions dispensed by the hand of God as evidences of his special favor and pro- tection. She also found, in the particular interest manifested for her and those around her by the most pious and respect- able ecclesiastics in the country, a support to her fortitude and increased encouragement to persevere in the paths of Christian perfection. " As you are happy enough," writes the Rev. Anthony Kohlman, then in New York, " to take your many trials in that light in which the saints considered them, as great favors of your divine Bridegroom, as, instead 260 THE LIFE OF of wavering at these repeated strokes, you feel your courage increased, your confidence strengthened, and your love tc God more and more inflamed, we have great reason to ad- mire and praise the amiable conduct of the Almighty, who, as holy Job says, tries his faithful servants so admirably. In the eyes of the unwise they seem to be afflicted unto death, while their souls are in peace and abounding with consolation. If the sudden departure of Harriet filled us with grief, my joy, I must confess, was no less in considering that happy state of fervor and love in which Jesus called this his beloved spouse to his eternal embraces." January 17, 1810. "What a happy death!" exclaims the Rev. Mr. Cheverus, alluding to the same event : " may my last end be like hers ! Our penance is to be appreciated rather by its fervor than by the length of time. She who ' loved much' became in a moment a saint and the friend of Jesus. ... 1 look upon your trials, difficulties, &c. as the stamp of divine favor and protection upon your establishment. Remember St. Theresa, St. Frances Chantal, &c. Like them, I hope you will become saints, and the mothers of many saints." January 24, 1810. Mother Seton received letters of a similar import from Bishop Carroll and other members of the clergy ; but that of Rev. John B. David, who had then become officially connected with the sisterhood in the capa- city of ecclesiastical superior, deserves special notice, as well on this account as for the solid and excellent advice which it contains. " Crosses, privations, and afflictions, seem to be the lot which our blessed Lord has apportioned for your soul. Courage, my dear mother! these are the precious jewels with which the Divine Spouse is pleased to adorn his bride. They are the most valuable earnest of his love and the sweet pledges of his future liberalities. Our dear Harriet is not dead, but lives to her God. In lamenting her loss for u, I cannot forbear looking upon her death as a happy MRS. . A. 6ETON. 261 event for herself. From what storms and dangers us she hot delivered ! Perhaps God foresaw that, if she had lived, the persecutions and allurements of a wicked world would have shaken her constancy and caused her to forsake her good resolutions. Let us adore the unsearchable, but always wise and merciful, ways of Providence; and let us more than evei convince ourselves that Jesus wishes to be the sole pos- sessor of our hearts, and would have his spouses above all others to abandon themselves with perfect resignation into his hands, casting away all anxious cares, leaving entirely to him the choice of the good or evils that are to befall them, with a total abnegation of their own interest and a full re- liance on the care of his providence, having no other thought, in troublesome and painful encounters, than to submit lov- ingly to whatever God will be pleased to ordain. The soul in this state of resignation fears neither sickness nor poverty, desires neither health nor riches, but simply applies to the service of her Master, according to this word of our Lord to a beloved spouse of his : ' Take care of me and I will of thee.' How precious are the fruits of this resignation ! It makes the soul the dwelling of peace, joy, and liberty, which are the true fruits of the Divine Spirit." December 28, 1809. Such were the excellent maxims which Mother Seton adopted for the regulation of her sentiments and actions. Submission to the holy will of God was constantly on her lips and in her heart; and, in the numerous and severe trials which she had to contend with, she found perpetual occa- lions for the practice and cultivation of this necessary virtue. The new house which had been undertaken for the more convenient location of the sisters having been sufficiently advanced to allow them to occupy at least a part of it, they removed thither on the 20th of February, 1810. It was a log-building, two stories high, fronting to the south, and the main entrance equidistant from the two end* 262 THE LIFE OF At the eastern extremity a small kitchen was attached to it, and on the west was another addition for the purpose of a sanctuary, sacristy, and an apartment where strangers could assist at mass, facing one end of the sanctuary. The choir, where the community heard mass and performed other de- votions, was immediately in front of the altar, and by means of a folding-door could be united with or separated from it as the occasion required. The blessed Sacrament was con- veyed from its former locality to its more worthy but humble receptacle, with all the solemnity which circumstances permitted, the Rev. Mr. Dubois officiating, and the sisters walking in procession, with hearts joyfully uplifted to God who was leading them another step in their way to useful- ness. The newly-constructed sanctuary could boast of no rich decorations ; but there was a beauty of virtue and a fragrance of devotion that adorned its precincts and made it lovely in the eyes of the Almighty. " So poor was the little altar," says a cotemporary witness, " that its chief ornaments were a framed portrait of our dear Redeemer, which Mother had brought with her from New York, her own little silver candlesticks, some wild laurel, paper flowers, &c. : yet, what a happy, happy company, far from the busy, bustling scenes of a miserable, faithless world !" In front of the altar were inscribed those significant words of our Saviour : " This ia my command, that you love one another." The sisters, being now provided with the necessary accommodations for the commencement of a day-school, opened a course of instruc- tions on the 22d of February, many pupils having been re- ceived from the village and surrounding country. In the education of youth they were directed by the superiors to aim chiefly at the inculcation of piety and sound morals, though secular learning was not to be neglected. We have Been that Mother Seton had placed her community in a spe- eial manner under the patronage ot St. Joseph, the patror MRS. E. A. SETON. 26J of those who are charged with the care and instruction of youth. For this reason she desired that, in commencing the duties of the sisterhood in the new residence, the more solemn invocation of the divine blessing upon the undertak- ing should take place under his auspices ; and accordingly the first high mass chanted in the large chapel was celebrated >n 1 is festival, the 19th of March, 1810. But her attention to the details of the institution was Boon divided by the increasing illness of her sister-in-law Cecilia, whose health had but temporarily improved since her arrival in the vicinity of Emmettsburg. This heroic young lady, who had exhibited in her conversion a piety, wisdom, and intrepidity seldom equalled in maturer years, had always ardently desired to embrace a life of religious seclusion, and when Providence afforded her an opportunity of joining Mother Seton, she was determined to remain with her, expecting, as she said, " not a life of ease and pleasure, but a life of penance and humiliation." Her anticipations were fully realized ; for the poverty of the institution to which she had attached herself, with her continual sufferings, afforded her constant occasions for the practice of Christian self-denial. The following sentiments which she wrote in several letters to one of her spiritual directors, only a short time before her death, will exhibit a true picture of her soul. "February 1, 1810. " This day, my dearest father, I am filled with the idea that I shall not see the end of this month. They tell me I am recovering : I think the remainder of my exile will be very short, blessed be God ! yet, strange to tell, I am melancholy and sad. I long for the moment when this mortal part shall be dissolved, and the soul will rest in the bosom of its God. Yet I fear the approaching moment. Why is it so? Because I know judgment must follow 264 THE LIFE OV death If the saints themselves so mucli feared the tribu- nal, what must I do ? You will tell me, they confided in the mercy of their God. Oh, was it not for the confidence with which my Jesus inspires me, what would become of me ? Oftentimes I behold nothing but darkness and gloom before me ; 'tis then that the soul clings close to our Adored more closely than ever." "March 1. " The month of February past, and my tottering frame still stands; but whence this change? With a cheerful heart I feel myself every day get weaker, and feel happy in the idea that a few weeks must end it all "\Vhat now is all the world to me ? it vanishes like smoke. Night or day, sunshine or rain 'tis all one to me. My eyes are fixed on the eternal day; pain has become my rest, and my nights never more sweetly passed than when restless and uneasy. Dearest Lord ! how good you are to me ; you have indeed heard my prayer always to let me suffer for you, that so 1 may expiate my offences ; and when the hour of death shall come I may pass immediately from this world into thy arms of mercy. Oh, how precious now is every hour of my time ! Not an instant shall be lost. Every thought, word, and action, shall tend to the one point. And how ungrateful I should be to my merciful Creator did I not devote to him, to the uttermost of my power, the short remainder of my life, which, most probably, will be but a few weeks longer ! " Since the last accounts to my dearest Father, the soul has tasted more peace than it has since our darling Harriet has gone. Death has no longer a frightful appearance. 1 can now meditate on it with the greatest composure ; my daily pains I feel hourly more precious, though sometimes 1 get wearied, and even wish to be released ; yet I find, in mj severest pains, that I fervently pray our Lord to give me till more, and purify and prepare me for himself. I can- ME8. E. A. SETON. 265 oot help thinking, from the nature of my complaint, that I am fast approaching toward the end of my exile ; the pil- grimage has been wearisome, the mountain very hard to climb these few months past, which only makes me long more ardently for the haven of rest. But shall I ever reach that port? May there not be some sins yet unexpiated? If so, [ trust our Jesus will shed a ray of his divine light in my unworthy bosom. Before the arrival of that hour doubts and fears will arise ; but Jesus speaks peace and comfort. I cannot express to my soul's Father my longing desires for the Holy Communion. I receive as often as the sisters, but I seem to desire still more ; and days that I do not receive him I am not the same creature. I have much more comfort in my communions than formerly. According to our necessities he gives. Death and eternity ever before me ! Why is it so ? Because thou, dearest Lord, givest me some pain, some bodily uneasiness, to re- mind me of the slightness of that thread which holds my existence. Was it always so ? Once you saw my weakness, and pitied it. You have made me see, dear Lord, the vanity of all human things. I now truly feel this life a weary pil- grimage, and long for the hour when my mortal part shall be dissolved and I shall be at rest. Cut and crucify this sinful body here; here let it pay the penalty that is due; but oh, my Jesus, spare me hereafter ! at the hour of death comfort and receive me !" In the second week of April, by the recommendation of the physicians, sister Cecilia Seton was conveyed to Balti- more by Mother Seton, accompanied by her eldest daughter and one of the community. It was thought that a change of air and better opportunities of medical advice might prove beneficial; but, toward the end of the month, she calmly yielded her soul into the hauds of God, the admira- tion of all who knew her, for the many brilliant virtues and 23 266 THE LIFE OP Amiable qualities which she possessed. Her remains wert conducted by a procession of the clergy, followed by numerous concourse of persons, to the chapel of St. Mary's Seminary, where a solemn mass of requiem was celebrated for her repose ; and, after the ceremony, Mother Seton, with the Rev Mr. Cloriviere and the sister who had accompanied her to Baltimore, set out immediately for Emmettsburg, to ;onvey the body of her beloved relative to its final resting- place in St. Joseph's Valley. It was deposited in that lonely spot on the 30th of the month. If nature grieved at the loss of one so dearly cherished, faith rejoiced at the happy event. The death of her two sisters-in-law, who were as the dearer part of Mother Seton's existence, became for her a source of holy joy; inasmuch as she saw them sheltered from many dangers that would have been unavoidable in their situation, if they had been obliged to return among their kindred, or even had they remained with her to pass through the trials of perseverance to which they would have been subjected. She thus speaks of them in writing to a Protestant friend : " Dearest Harriet and my angel Cecil sleep in the wood close beside me. The children, and many of our good sisters, to whom they were much attached, have planted their graves with wild-flowers, and the little en- closure which contains them is the dearest spot to me on earth. I do not miss them half as much as you would think, as, according to my mad notions, it seems as if they are always around me. At all events, separation will not be long." ' Vastly different were the sentiments which the departure of these two young ladies in the bloom of life awakened among some of their anti-Catholic friends. For them it was a sore vexation, and, in consequence, they visited Mother Seton with expressions of the strongest indigna- tion. According to them she was " the pest of society," MRS. E. A. BETON. 267 "hypocrite and bigot," because she would not, like them, act the tyrant over the consciences of others : but all this, aa she observed to a friend, was " music to the spirit longing only to be conformed to Him who was despised and rejected by men." Released from her attendance upon the sick, Mother Seton applied herself unremittingly to the duties of the opening school and of the spiritual community under her charge. On the 14th of May, the first boarding-pupils were received from Frederick county, five in number, and were soon followed by others. In June, the total number of scholars at St. Joseph's was forty, and before the close of the year the boarders alone had increased to thirty. The institu- tion, however, according to its original design, was intended rather for the benefit of the poorer class than for the educa- tion of the rich ; but the indebtedness of the house, and the want of an adequate support, rendered the admission of the latter unavoidable. Aided by excellent tutoresses, Mother Seton confined herself principally to a general super- intendence of the school, particularly as her feeble health did not permit her to assume any laborious duty. Her part was to visit the classes, to exercise the talent of smiling and caressing, to give the look of encouragement or reproof, and in this way to inspire both the pupils and their mistresses with a cheerful zeal in the performance of their respective duties. The applications for admissions into the sisterhood were also frequent, and, with the prospects of the school, gave reason to believe that the divine blessing would con- tinue to attend the institution. Mother Seton thus alludes to the condition of the house toward the end of May, 1810. After mentioning some of the difficulties she had encoun- tered in the beginning, she says : " You know the enemy of all good will of course make his endeavors to destroy it; but it seems our Adored is determined on its full success, 268 THE LIFE OF by the excellent subjects he has placed in it. We are now twelve, and as many again are waiting for admission. I have a very, very large school to superintend every day, and the entire charge of the religious instruction of all the country round. All apply to the Sisters of Charity, who are night and day devoted to the sick and the ignorant. Our blessed Bishop intends removing a detachment of us to Baltimore, to perform the same duties there. We have here a very good house though a log building, and it will be the mother-house and retreat in all cases, as a portion of the sisterhood will always remain in it, to keep the spin- ning, weaving, knitting, and school for country-people, regu- larly progressing. Our blessed Bishop is so fond of our establishment that it seems to be the darling part of his charge ; and this consoles me for every difficulty or embar- rassment. All the clergy in America support it by their prayers ; and there is every hope that it is the seed of an immensity of future good. You must admire how our Lord should have chosen such a one as / to preside over it, but you know he loves to show his strength in weakness and his wisdom in the ignorant; his blessed name be adored forever ! It is in the humble, poor, and helpless he delights to number his greatest mercies and set them as marks to encourage poor sinners." Though Mother Seton deemed herself unworthy of the station which she filled, the rapid progress of her institu- tion proved that she was fully adequate to the office that had been assigned her. During the years 1810 and 1811 several candidates applied for admission into the sisterhood, which steadily increased in numbers, while it continued to flourish in the fervent practice of the Christiaa virtues. Of these Mother Seton furnished a bright example. A spirit of mortification, love of holy poverty, strict fidelity to rules, recollection of mind, with a cheerful countenance, MRS. E. A. SETON. 269 shone conspicuously in all her actions. No one could visit St. Joseph's House without being edified by the zeal and regularity which prevailed there. Upon a visit which the Rt Rev. Bishop Cheverus made to the valley in November 1810, in company with Bishop Egan, of Philadelphia, he was sensibly affected by the spirit of fervor which he wit- nessed among the sisters. Writing to their Mother-Supe- rior shortly after, he says, " The happy moments I have spent with you and them are present to my mind, and still more to my heart. I almost envy their happiness and yours. I hope their pious example has not been lost upon me." On the other hand, the truly religious spirit of St. Joseph's community was not less clearly manifested in the lively joy which the presence of those excellent prelates in- spired. " 1 need not tell you," says Mother Seton, in a letter to Archbishop Carroll, " our consolation in receiving the blessed bishops, nor how many benedictions they poured upon us. We have been very sensible of this special favor." To Mother Seton the visit of Bishop Cheverus was a source of peculiar satisfaction ; and the impressions which it awakened may be more easily imagined than described. He had been her friend and counsellor before and ever since her conver eion ; had aided her in various and important junctures by nis wise instructions, and still maintained with her a corre- spondence in which he manifested the liveliest interest in the welfare of herself, her children, and her spiritual daughters. But this valued and venerated guide she had never seen antil he presented himself at the sisterhood on the occasion just mentioned. " No sooner did he make himself known to her than she fell upon her knees, seized his hands, bathing them with her tears, and remained in that posture more than five mimites, without being able to articulate a word."* (18) * Life of Cardinal Cheverut, translated from the French by Robert M. 270 THE LIFE OF At this time Mother Seton derived the most efficient aid from the wise direction of the Rev. John B. David, who, upon the resignation of Mr. Dubourg, had been appointed superior of St. Joseph's community. Mr. David was born near Angers, in France, in 1761, of pious parents, whose earnest efforts were directed to his religious education. Blessed from his early childhood with a disposition to piety, and endowed with excellent talents, he rapidly advanced in knowledge and virtue, and passed through his collegiate course among the Oratorians with distinguished success. Having embraced the ecclesiastical state, he studied theology in the seminary of Nantes, and afterward, when a deacon, he joined the society of St. Sulpitius. Upon his ordination to the priesthood, in 1785, he was employed by his superiors in the seminary of Angers, as a professor of philosophy, theology, and Scripture; but the institution having soon been closed by the revolutionary movements, Mr. David took shelter in a private family, where he lived retired for two years, and then sailed for the United States in the company of Rev. Messrs. Flagetand Badin, in 1792. During the voyage he applied himself to the study of the English language ; for he made it a rule to be always employed in some useful oc- cupation. Hence, on his arrival in this country, having some knowledge of English, he was at once appointed by Bishop Carroll to the charge of a mission in Maryland, where he labored for twelve years with great assiduity and success. He was the first to introduce among the faithful in the United States t' 3 salutary practice of spiritual retreat?, and he found them most effe3tual means of reviving the spirit of piety among the members of his different congregations In ISO 4, Bishop Carroll named him to a professorship in Walsh, Philadelphia, 1841, p. 83. This work states, incorrectly, that Mra. Seton had been in Philadelphia, and had established a hospital j'r tin M4 H uimettsburg. MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 271 Georgetown College, which he filled with ability ; and two years after, he was called to St. Mary's Seminary, in Balti- more, under the charge of the Sulpitians, to which body he belonged. Here he was laboriously occupied in various offices of the institution, and iu the duties of the sacred ministry, when in the fall of 1809 he was appointed to super- intend the spiritual concerns of the rising community in St. Joseph's Valley. For this office he was well qualified by his skill in the direction of souls and his zeal for the strict observance of discipline. Obedience and simplicity were points on which he insisted in a special manner in his in- structions to the sisters. They were virtues in which ho excelled himself, and which he was careful to impress upon all under his charge. The second retreat of the community, which commenced on the 8th of October, 1810, was con- ducted by him. At this time there were fifteen members in the sisterhood. The following direction, which he gave to Mother Seton, selected from the few fragments of his instruc- tions that have been preserved, may still be read with profit, and will perhaps be interesting to those who now belong to the society. " I am sorry to hear of your being so much indisposod. Undoubtedly, Lent, though not very severe in these our wretched times, ought nevertheless to abate some- thing of its rigors for those who are in your case. Your pastor ai>d confessor will prescribe in his prudence what your situation requires, and I doubt not but that the love of penance will yield in our dear infirm sisters to the voice of obedience, for obedience is better than sacrifice. I much approve of the maxim that complaining is a sort of infidelity when it has for its principle impatience or an anxiety fot relief. But, on the other side, obedience and sincerity re- quire that infirm sisters, when asked about their state of health, should candidly declare what they suffer, neither add- ing through exaggeration, easily suggested by self-love to 272 THE LIFE or excite commiseration, nor diminishing through a miseoxy ceived humility or modesty. I earnestly exhort you, dea? Mother, to caution your daughters against a want of that sincerity, candor, simplicity, so much recommended to us in the gospel; and to remind them often that the true spirit of religion is a spirit of infancy, which knows no disguise. It must be a rule among the sisters that, whenever they are indisposed, they do not wait till they are asked, but go and declare it to their Mother, not by manner of complaint, but simply through prudence and obedience to the rule ; and, when questioned, they ought also to answer in all simplicity and truth." February 23, 1811. A few months after he had written this letter, St. Joseph's was deprived of the valu able services of Mr. David, in consequence of his determi- nation to follow the Rt. Rev. Bishop Flaget, his old friend and companion, to his new field of labor. They set out for Kentucky in the spring of that year. Mother Seton having always relied for direction chiefly upon the wise counsels of Archbishop Carroll, she became still more the object of his paternal care now that another change in the government of St. Joseph's House had become necessary by the departure of Rev. Mr. David. She had maintained an uninterrupted correspondence with that venerable prelate, who evinced a most lively interest for the happiness of her- self, her children, and her community. On this occasion he wrote to her assuring her of his continued solicitude and of his earnest attention to all that would be requisite for the "benefit and perfect contentment of herself and her inte- resting family." At this period, and until the appointment of another ecclesiastical superior, he assumed a more parti- cular superintendence of her affairs, owing to circumstance* that will be mentioned in the sequel. With the income from the school and the occasional do- nations of persons friendly to the institution, St. Joseph's MRS. E. A. SETON. 273 House had so far advanced without embarrassment. As we have seen, Mr. Anthony Filicchi, of Leghorn, had no sooner heard of the institution undertaken by Mother Seton in Baltimore, than he contributed largely to the furtherance of it, directing her at the same time to draw without hesitation upon his agents for any additional aid she might require An occasion soon presented itself for another appeal to hia liberality. Kev. Nicholas Zocchi, an Italian clergyman, who was pastor of Taneytown and other places in Maryland, was about to visit Italy, and he requested Mother Seton to exchange a thousand dollars with him for a bill on her friend in Leghorn, which she readily did, having need of funds at the time ; but, fearing lest she might have calcu- lated too much upon his generosity, she thus expresses her apprehensions : " It is almost useless to tell you that the New Yorkers have given me up altogether and entirely. . . I find my name cannot be mentioned before them. . . . Does it hurt you that I press so hard on you and make no further application to them ? Consider, how can I apply to them for means which would go to the support only of a religion ind institution they abhor? while what is taken from you is promoting your greatest happiness in this world and bring- ing you nearer and nearer to the Adored in the next. But, again, let me repeat, if I have gone too far, stop me short forever, if you find it necessary, without fear of the least wound to the soul you love, which receives all from your hands as from that of our Lord, and, whenever they may be closed, will know that it is He who shuts them who uses all fox his own glory as He pleases. I do not write your Fi- lippc now, as this latter will serve to say all to both except the fervency and attachment of my very soul to you in Christ. May he be blessed and praised forever I How great that attachment is, and with how much reason, can only be known by one who ones was what I have been, and 274 THE LIFE OP can conceive how great the contrast of past and present if. This is understood by Him alone who gave you to me and us to you ; for which, I trust, we will love, praise, and adore through eternity." Mother Seton had no need of apolo- gizing for her appeal to Mr. Filicchi's continued liberality. The friendship of this truly Christian gentleman knew no bounds. He not only honored her draft upon him, but he nrged her in the most pressing terms to repeat her demands in any other emergency that might arise. " Chase your dif- fidence away," said he; fi speak to your brother the wants of a sister, and trust in the One who knows how to clothe and feed the birds of the air and make the grass of the earth to shine." The progress of St. Joseph's sisterhood, and the benefits that began already to accrue from it to society and religion, were a source of the most lively joy to the heart of Mr. Filicchi ; for he could not but feel that, under God, he had been vastly instrumental in accomplishing this good work. In the establishment that had risen up at St. Jo- seph's he beheld the happy results of his own zeal and mu- nificence, to which the Almighty had imparted a copious blessing. Such was the view of it which Mother Seton also entertained. In writing to him, she would say, "Pray for your own work, that it may be crowned at last." But no language can express the heartfelt gratitude with which she recalled the numerous and signal favors which she had received at the hands of the Messrs. Filicchi. She looked upon them as friends whose benefactions could never be sufficiently repaid. We might infer this from the portions of her letters already cited; but the following will show thai her gratitude was of the most practical character, and that nothing was omitted on her part to draw an abundant bless ing and reward upon those true friends who never wearieO in well-doing. MRS. B. A. SETON. 275 Jane 24, 1811. "My dear, a thousand times dear, Antonio, you cannot even guess my joy to hear once more of you and your most dear ones ; that our Filippo, for whom so often the sighs and aspirations of regret and desire for his rest and repose have ascended, and so many communions of gratitude and affection have been offered, (fully convinced that he was no longer with you,) to hear not only that he is alive, but cer- tainly recovering, and that neither of you are angry with the poor little sister or have thought of renouncing her. Oh, what true and heartfelt comfort and blessing is this, to compare with the many acts of resignation I have been con- stantly making, not only of your precious life in the dangers of your situation, but of that friendship and protection which is our only earthly possession. . . . Dearest and most generous of all hearts, your possessions will never, never fail. ... If you have received no other letters than those you mention, you do not perhaps know of the happy conver- sion and subsequent death of our Harriet Seton. Cecilia's death Mr. Zocchi must have mentioned particularly. Har- riet's was also everyway consoling. I have them both lying close by our dwelling, and there say my Te Deum every evening. Oh, Antonio, could you and Filippo know half the blessing you have procured us all ! My Anna now treads in their steps, and is an example of youth, beauty, and grace, internally and externally, which must be and is admired as ft most striking blessing not only to her mother, but to many. My two little girls are very good, and know no other lan- guage or thoughts but of serving and loving our dear Lord I do not mean in a religious life, which cannot be judged at their age, but of being His wherever they may be. The dis- tant hope your letter gives that there is a possibility of your coming to this country is a light to my gloomy prospect* for my poor children, not for their temporal good : our 276 THE LIFE Of Lord knows I would never grieve to see them even beggars if they preserve and practise their faith j but their prospect in the case of my death is as desolate as it can be, unless they are given up to their old friends, which would be almost their certain ruin of principle. I give all up, you may be sure, to Him who feeds the birds of heaven, as you say; but, in the weak and decaying state of my health, which is almost broken down, can I look at the five without the fears and forebodings of a mother, whose only thought or desire is for their eternity? Our blessed Cheverus seemed to have many hopes of them when he came to see us last winter, and en- couraged me to believe he would do all he could for their protection. To him and your Filicchi hearts I commit them in this world. Our success in having obtained the confi- dence of so many respectable parents, who have committed the whole charge of their children to us, to the number of about fifty, besides poor children who have not means of education, has enabled us to get on very well without debt or embarrassment; and I hope our Adored has already done a great deal through our establishment. The reverend Superior of St. Mary's in Baltimore, who was our first director, has zealously endeavored to do a great deal more ; but he did not find me as ready as converts generally are, as I had to include the consideration of my poor children in my reli gious character, which has greatly pleased and satisfied our blessed Cheverus and Archbishop Carroll, who is njw more my protector than ever, more truly attached to us, and, finally, takes the superior charge of our house, which at first he had bestowed on another; so that every thing I do or act, even in points less material, is and will be solely di- rected by them. . . . Oh, Filicchi ! how is the blessing you most love increased and increasing in our wooden land, aa you used to call it! Blessed, a thousand times blessed, be His holy name forever! You direct your letter to Balti- MRS. E. A. BETON. 277 more, but we are fifty miles from it, in the raidst of woods and mountains. If we had but the dear Christian children and their father and mother, it would be an earthly para- dise to me. No wars or rumors of wars here, but fields ripe with harvest; the mountain church St. Mary's, the village church St. Joseph's, and our spacious log-house, containing a private chapel, (pur Adored always there,) is all our riches, and old Bony would not covet them, though one of the most eloquent and elegant orators at the bar of New York wrote our poor Harriet, among other reasons why she should not listen " to the siren voice of her sister," that in a few years every Catholic building should be razed to the ground and our house shortly be pulled about our ears. That would be odd enough in the land of liberty. Will you tell your most honored brother that my prayers shall not now go beyond the grave for him, but will be equally constant ? All the children go to communion once a month, except little Re- becca, (Annina once a week,) and, believe me, their mother's example and influence is not wanting to excite every devo- tion of gratitude and lively affection for their true and dear- est friends and best of fathers, through whom they have re- ceived a real life and been brought to the light of everlast- ing life. Our whole family, sisters and all, make our cause their own ; and many, many communions have been and will be offered for you both, by souls who have no hope of know- ing you but in heaven. Eternity, eternity, my brother ! Will I pass it with you ? So much has been given which not only I never deserved, but have done every thing to provoke the adorable hand to withhold from me, that I even dare hope for that, that which I forever ask as the dearest, most desired favor. If I never write you again from this world, pray for me continually. If I am heard in the next, oh, Antonio, what would I not obtain for you, your Filippo, 24 278 THE LIFE Of and all yours ! . . . May the blessings you bestow on us b rewarded to you a thousand times ! Ever yours." From the statements here made by Mother Seton, we learn that the institution under her charge continued to flourish and to produce the most precious fruits. Her children in the order of nature, her daughters at St. Joseph's and her two sons at the mountain college, were growing up in knowledge and piety; the pupils whose education was committed to her care were steadily increasing in number ; her spiritual daughters were also rallying thickly around her, and the work of charity was done to the poor. Exte- riorly St. Joseph's House was moving in a tide of usefulness, while internally it was the abode of peace and sanctity, and afforded a happiness which was unknown in the busy world. Mother Seton has thus depicted the blessings of her religious retirement, in a letter to a dear friend who was thinking of visiting the institution. " The very thought of your visiting gives a delight to us you can never imagine. The solitude of our mountains, the silence of Cecilia's and Harriet's graves, your skipping children over the woods, which in the spring are covered with wild-flowers they would gather for you at every step, the regularity of our house, which is very spacious, and in an end wing contains our dear, dear chapel, BO neat and quiet, where dwells, as we believe,* night and day, you know Who; this is no dream of fancy, and only a email part of the reality of our blessing. You must be a witness to believe that, from Monday to Saturday, all is quiet, no violation of each other's tranquillity, each helping the other with a look of good- will which must indeed be seen to be believed. All the world would not have persuaded me if I had not proved it ; so you may be increduloui till you come and see. \Ve have no kind of society but OUT She was writing to a Protestant MRS. E. A. SETON. 279 mountain pastor, who is a polished, simple, truly holy man, says mass for us at sunrise all the year round. If any one has a trouble, it is carried to him ; they receive their conso- lation, and it is buried in silence." The blessings, however, enjoyed by the inmates of St. Joseph's, and the usefulness of the institution, would not have been permanent without increased and strenuous exer- tions on the part of Mother Seton. The maintenance of the house found a provision in the income from the board and tuition of the pupils : but the debts contracted by the im- provement of their property were yet to be liquidated, and threatened to place it in a very embarrassing position. In this situation of affairs, different plans were devised for the relief of the house, among which it was proposed that Mother Seton should make a tour through the country, and solicit aid from those who were friendly to the objects of the insti- tution : but this scheme was eventually abandoned. Bishop Cheverus, writing to her on this subject, says, " I am much grieved at the troubles you are in, and the more so because I do not see how you will be extricated from them. Your- self to leave your house and travel to make collections, &c. does not appear to me an eligible plan, although it would procure me the happiness of seeing you in Boston ; and, in the present situation of affairs, very little, I am afraid, would be collected. An application by a circular letter would hardly produce any thing, but at least it would not be at- tended with the same inconveniences as your personal attend- ance. ... I am still in hopes that some pious and generous souls will give, or at least advance, the money you owe, and that your invaluable establishment will subsist and flourish." To avert the destruction of the institution. Mother Seton privately appealed to the liberality of friends, among whom General Robert G-. Harper was conspicuous, both for the in- terest he manifested in the welfare of St. Joseph's HOUM 280 THE LIFE OF and for the eminence of his position in society.* The fol- lowing letter, addressed to him by Mother Seton, will serve to show the difficulties she had to contend with, and the elo- quence of her pen in pleading the cause of religion and hu- manity : " Will you permit the great distance between us to be forgotten for a moment, and suffer the force of those sentiments which your liberality and kindness to us hava created to act without reserve in speaking to you on a sub- ject I believe you think interesting? The promising and amiable perspective of establishing a house of plain and use- ful education, retired from the extravagance of the world, connected also with the view of providing nurses for the sick and poor, an abode of innocence and refuge of affliction, is, I fear, now disappearing under the pressure of debts contracted at its very foundation. Having received the pensions of our boarders in advance, and with them obliged not only to maintain ourselves, but also to discharge the endless de- mands of carpenters and workmen, we are reduced now to our credit, which is poor indeed. The credit of twenty pool women, who are capable only of earning their daily bread la but a small stock, particularly when their flour-merchant, grocer, and butcher, are more already in advance than they are willing to afford. What is our resource ? If we sell our house to pay our debts, we must severally return to our separate homes. Must it be so, or will a friendly hand as- sist us, become our guardian protector, plead our cause with the rich and powerful, serve the cause of humanity, and be a father to the poor ? Would Mrs. Harper be interested for us, or is this an extravagant dream of female fancy? Oh, no ! Mrs. Harper has a heart of pity; she has proved it un- solicited. If we were relieved but from a momentary em- General Harper, son-in-law of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, was on* of the most gifted orators of the American Bar. Some of his speeches have been published, in 3 vols. 8ro. MRS. E. A. SETON. 281 barrassmeut, her name would be blessed by future genera- tions ; for, so simple and unpretending is our object, we can- not fail of success if not crushed in our beginning. The Rev. Mr Dubourg has exerted himself continually for us, and bestowed all he could personally give. From him we are to expect no more. What shall we do ? How dare I ask you, dear sir, the question ? But, if addressing it to you gives you a moment's displeasure, forgive; and, consi- dering it as any other occurrence of life which is differently judged of according to the light in which it is viewed, then blot it out, and be assured, whatever may be your impression of it, it arose from a heart filled with the sentiment of your generosity and overflowing with gratitude and respect. . . Dear Mrs. Harper, tell your sweet nieces to look at the price of a shawl or veil, and think of the poor family of St. Jo- seph's/' December 28, 1811. Happily for religion and society, the institution was rescued from its impending danger by the timely aid of its friends ; and, though it had to struggle on amid difficulties and trials, it gradually became more and more consolidated, and an instrument of great and extensive good in the hand* of Divine Providence. 282 THE Lirx OJT BOOK VII. Colony of Sisters expected from France Their disappointment Origia and diffusion of the " Daughters of Charity" Object and spirit of tht Society Government of St. Joseph's House Mother Seton's peculiar position She consults Archbishop Carroll His advice to her and ap- proval of the roles Adoption of them by the Community Final con- firmation Mother Seton's humility First election of officers Cos- tume of the Sisters Increase of the Society Sister Annina Seton Her illness, piety, and death Mother Seton's sentiments. IT has been stated in the preceding book that, with a view to form St. Joseph's community upon the institute of the "Daughters of Charity" founded by St. Vincent of Paul, the society in France was requested to depute some of its mem- bers to aid in establishing a branch of the sisterhood at Em- mettsburg. The Rt. Rev. Mr. Flaget, who had been intrusted with the negotiation of this matter, succeeded in awakening a lively interest in favor of the contemplated institution, and obtained from the society in Europe its assent to the pro- posed measure. As the following communication will show, several sisters were appointed, and were expecting soon to embark for their new mission in the United States of America: " BORDEAUX, July 12, 1810. "Mr DEAR SISTERS : "As it is not yet in my power to leave France, I write for the purpose of proving to you that you are the object of my thoughts. I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you in a few months, as the Almighty, who calls you to OUT holy state, and has inspired me as well as many of my com- panions with the desire of being useful to you, will not fail MRS. E. A. SETOW. 283 to prepare the way for our departure. That all-powerful God who made choice of poor fishermen, weak and ignorant men, to become the foundations of his Church, is pleased also in our days to employ the most feeble instruments, for the greater glory of his name, to found an establishment that will be agreeable to him, since it has for its object the Bervice of his suffering members. Oh, how beautiful is that calling which enables us to walk in the footsteps of our Divine Saviour, to practise the virtues which he practised, and to offer ourselves a sacrifice to him as he offered him- self for us ! What gratitude, what love, do we not owe to that tender Father for having chosen us for so sublime a vocation ! Let us thank him, dear sisters, and pray him for each other, that he will grant us the grace of corresponding faithfully to this inestimable privilege. Let us have recourse to the Blessed Virgin, to St. Vincent of Paul, our father, to Mademoiselle Legras, our blessed mother, that they may obtain this happiness for their cherished daughters. There can be no doubt of our being dear to them, since we love them and desire to be subject to them. As Moneigneur Flaget will have made known to you the disposition* which his zeal and holy interest for you have awakened among us, I will conclude, dear sisters, (soon to be companions,) by as- suring you of the sincere and entire devotedness and re- spect of " Your very humble sister, " MARIE BIZERAY, " Unworthy daughter of charity, " Servant of the poor."* The zealous and pious wish here expressed to serve the cause of charity in this country was not permitted by Di- * The original letter is in French, and is signed by two others, Sister Woirin and Sister Augustine Chaurin, who probably had also been deaif. uted fir the United States. 284 THE LIFE or vine Providence to be realized. Owing to obstacles throw* in the way by the government of Bonaparte, the colony ol French sisters could not obtain the necessary passports, and accordingly their arrangements were frustrated. The lit. Rev. Mr. Flaget, however, obtained a copy of their rules, and brought it with him on his return to America, in August of the same year. The end which the Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph pro- posed to themselves was to honor our Lord Jesus Christ as the source and model of all charity, by rendering to him every temporal and spiritual service in their power, in the persons of the poor, the sick, prisoners, and others ;* also, to honor the sacred infancy of Jesus Christ in the young persons of their sex whom they may be called upon to form to virtue, while they sow in their minds the seed of useful knowledge."f Thus the poor, of all descriptions and ages, the sick, invalids, foundlings, orphans, and even insane per- sons, were embraced within the sphere of their solicitude and care. Another object of their zeal, no less important at that time in America, was the instruction of young persons of their sex in virtue, piety, and various branches of useful learning. This instruction they were to extend gratis to poor orphans, as far as circumstances would permit. The education of female youth in general did not enter into the plan contemplated by St. Vincent of Paul. On the one hand, the great facilities which France and other parts of Europe offered for the instruction of young ladies in the knowledge and accomplishments of their sex, made it need- less for the good of society; while, on the other, the liberal " The king answering shall say to them : Amen I say to you, ai long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me." Matt. xxv. 40. | " He that shall receive one such little child in my name, receiveth ." Matt xviii. 6. Mas. *. A, SETON. 285 endowments by which his spiritual daughters were enabled to pursue their charitable labors dispensed tbem from the necessity of earning the means of support. But the case was very different in the United States. The superiors of St. Joseph's community thought it essential to the very ex- istence of the society that it should embrace in its object the education of young ladies who were able to pay for their instruction, as without this its resources would be insufficient for the maintenance of the mother-house and an orphan asylum. Moreover, this modification of the rules of St. Vin- cent appeared the more desirable, as it would extend the benefits of religious instruction to a class of society which has the greatest influence upon public morals, and which then possessed but scanty facilities in the United States for obtaining a solid and virtuous education. To carry out the above-mentioned objects, the society is composed of such as were never married, and of widows, who are required to be sound of mind and body, and free from all defects that would prevent them from discharging the functions of their state. They must be of good character and respectable connections, of an age commonly not short of sixteen nor exceeding twenty-eight, and, above all, fully disposed to serve God during their whole life in the persons of the poor and the education of youth, with an entire sub- mission to the guidance of superiors and a great fidelity to the rules of the institute. Candidates for admission into the sisterhood are per mitted, after mature deliberation, to enter the novitiate, 01 term of probation, during which they are instructed particu larly in the duties and spirit of their vocation. At the ex piration of this period, if judged competent by the superiors they are allowed to make the simple vows of poverty, chas- tity, and obedience, and permanency in the company, accord- ing to their rules, and this for one year only, conformably to 286 THE LIFE or the practice of the community. These vows are intended to check the inconstancy of the human mind, and to prevent hasty return to the world which might be followed hy regret and remorse ; but, as they bind only for a period of twelve months, the sisters are at liberty to withdraw at the expira- tion of this time, though they are supposed to make their vows in the first instance with a determination to remain during their whole life in their holy vocation. As nothing could be more excellent and sublime than the end contemplated by the sisterhood of St. Joseph's, the most perfect dispositions are required in its members, and the rules prescribed for their observance tend no less to their own personal sanctification than to their preparation for the service of the neighbor. That they may correspond with the grace of their vocation, and fulfil, with merit to them selves and benefit to others, the great obligations annexed to it, they are strenuously exhorted to the practice of holiness, to aim at Christian perfection, and to join the exercises of an interior and spiritual life with their exterior employ- ments, according to the regulations of the institute, the faith- ful observance of which is considered the most effectual means of attaining the ends of their holy state. Though they do not belong to a religious order, (such a state being incompatible with the objects of their society,) yet, as ttey are more exposed to the world than members of a religious order, having in most circumstances no other monastery than the houses of the sick or the school-room, no other cell than a rented apartment, no other chapel than the parish church, no cloister but the public street or hospital, no en- slosure but obedience, no grate but the fear of God, no veil but that of holy modesty, they are taught to aim at the highest virtue, and to comport themselves under all circum- stances with as much edification as if they were living in the seclusion of a consent. The salvation of their soul u MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 287 the paramount consideration they are to have in view. The cultivation of humility, charity, and simplicity, the perform- ance of their actions in union with the Son of God, contempt of the world, disengagement from created things, love of abjection, patient and even cheerful endurance of all earthly crosses and trials, and a great confidence in Divine Provi- dence, are practices which the sisters consider essential to their profession. In addition to these holy maxims, which may be said to form the characteristic spirit of the society, the sisters are animated in a special manner, by the requirements of the holy vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, to pursue with zeal the objects of their institute. The most admirable rules are laid down for the practice of mutual charity among themselves, and also for the proper fulfilment of the duties that may be assigned to them, whether attending the sick in hospitals and private houses, conducting free schools and asylums, or discharging other offices of their state. The dangers to be met with in various situations are pointed out, as well as the precautions to be adopted. In a word, no instruction is omitted that could tend to qualify the Sister of Charity for the worthy and successful performance of her high functions. But, as she would in vain hope to acquit herself faith- fu.ly of these onerous duties, and in that proper spirit which they demand, without the assiduous exercise of prayer and reflection, a strict attention is required to various practices of piety, such as morning and evening prayer, meditation, spiritual reading, self-examination, frequentation of the sa- craments, and other devotions, which tend to enkindle in the soul the love of God and the neighbor, to nourish the spirit of faith, and to maintain a perpetual triumph of grace over the weakness of nature and the suggestions of the world. In any of the situations in which a sister may be 288 THE LIFE OJT employed, whether at the mother-house or on the missions, a large portion of her daily time is appropriated to praye? and other spiritual exercises, while the remainder is filled up with the duties of her calling. The power and authority which were necessary to main- tain the spirit of the institute, to insure its objects, and re- gulate its various operations, were vested in a central govern- ment, composed of a superior-general, (who is a clergyman,) a mother-superior, an assistant, a treasurer, and a procuratrix. The superior of the Seminary of St. Sulpitius in Baltimore was ex officio protector of the constitutions of the society, and had an eye to their faithful observance. The superior- general was to be consulted on all important matters, both temporal and spiritual. The mother-superior was to exercise a more immediate supervision over affairs, and particularly over the principal establishment in which she resides. To be eligible to this office, it was required that a sister should be thirty-five years of age and have been a member of the community twelve years j moreover, that she should possess a mature judgment, with the talent of governing, and, above all, be exemplary in the practice of the different virtues which the vocation of a Sister of Charity demands. The mother was to be elected in a general assembly of the sisters, by a majority of votes, for a term of three years, and could be re-elected a second term, but not longer. The offices of assistant, treasurer, and procuratrix, were also to be con- ferred by a majority of votes, and for only one term of three years. These officers formed the council of the mother ; and tc their joint deliberation were referred all matter? relating to the interests of the company. Besides the mother and her council, there was a mistress of novices in the principal house, appointed by the mother with the aid t>f her advisers, to form those who were admitted into the Jttterhood to the spirit and duties of their vocation. On MRS. E. A. SETON. 289 of the sisters was also appointed, in the same way, to regulate and superintend the exercises of St. Joseph's Academy. The establishments abroad have each a presiding officer to watch over its concerns, who is appointed by the same au- thority, and is called the sister-servant. All other inferior offices are distributed by the mother, according to her judg- ment and discretion. In consequence of the peculiar position of Mother Seton, surrounded by five children, who depended entirely upon her maternal care and vigilance, especially for the security of their religious principles, it was at first thought imprac- ticable for her to bind herself permanently to a religious company and to assume the government of it, obliged as she was to take the principal part in the superintendence of her children's welfare. She herself was fully convinced that, without her continual solicitude and efforts for the guidance of her sons and daughters, they would be much exposed to the influence of their Protestant relatives, who were nume- rous and wealthy; and for this reason she could never en- tertain the idea of assuming obligations that would be in- compatible with her previous and paramount duty as a mo- ther. Writing to a friend on this subject, she says, " By the law of the Church I so much love, I could never take an obligation which interfered with my duties to the children, except I had an independent provision and guardian for them, which the whole world could not supply, to my judg- ment of a mother's duty." Under the circumstances in which Mother Seton was placed, it was a matter of serious .onsidention, pending the discussion of the rules and con- nitut'ums to be adopted by the sisters, whether she ought not to confine herself to a lit.er.-iry institution independent of St. .Joseph's community. There seems to have been a difference of opinion among the pious and learned indivi- 26 T 290 THF LIFE 0V duals who were consulted upon the subject; but Mother Seton, in this as in every other emergency regarding the happiness of herself and those around her, submitted all to the decision of Archbishop Carroll, her constant and intimate adviser. In a letter to him, dated September 5, 1811, she thus confides the case to his superior wisdom, with senti- ments of entire resignation in regard to its issue. '' You, my most venerated father, know every thing that has passed, from my first union with this house until the present mo- ment, temptations, trials, &c. &c. ; and now I cast all at the feet of the Adored, placing every consideration and all my concerns in your hands, as His representative, to decide my fate. The rules proposed are nearly such as we had in the original manuscript of the sisters in France. I never had a thought discordant with them, as far as my poor power may go in fulfilling them. The constitutions proposed have been discussed by our Reverend Director, and I find he makes some observations on my situation relative to them ; but surely an individual is not to be considered where a public good is in question ; and you know I would gladly make every sacri- fice you think consistent with my first and inseparable obli- gations as a mother. I shall beg the kindness of Mr. Du- bois to hide nothing from you of my dispositions and situa- tion as he knows them, and certainly, as far as I know my- self, they are known to him as to God." The answer of the archbishop to this communication shows what great import- ance he attached to the subject of it, and how earnestly he applied himself, in the examination of the rules by which St. Joseph's House was to be governed, to make such ar- rangements as would best promote the interests of the so- ciety at large and of each member individually. In regard to Mother Seton, he thought that her particular situation required special rules of guidance in her connection with the sisterhood. After having examined the constitution! ME8. E. A. SETON 291 and rules submitted to him by the superior, Rev. Mr. Du- bois, he addressed the following letter to Mother Seton : September 11, 1811. " HONORED AND DEAR MADAM: " Shall I confess that I am deeply humiliated at being called on to give a final sanction to a rule of conduct and plan of religious government by which it is intended to promote and preserve, among many beloved spouses of Jesus Christ, a spirit of solid and sublime religious perfec- tion ? When I remember how many prayers, fastings, watch- ings, &c. were employed by the holy founders of religious institutions to obtain light and assistance from the Holy Ghost to render their constitutions and rules adapted to the objects of their pious zeal, I am so sensible of my un- worthiness that I would certainly decline from the task, if I did not entertain a confidence that it may please God to bestow a blessing on the ministerial acts of the ministers of religion whom he has constituted, to which blessing they are not entitled if only their private worth were considered. Under this impression, therefore, I shall and do now give my approbation to the constitutions exhibited to me by Mr. Dubois, after they shall receive the alterations suggested tc and by him. You will know from him what these are; and it affords me great pleasure to learn that all the material pointy }t which a difference of opinion was thought to exist, have been given up by Messrs, de St. Sulpice in their last deliberations. If they had not, I do not think that I should have approved the constitutions as modified in the copy thereof which has been before me. Mr. Dubois has not ex- hibited the rules of detail and particular duties of the sis- ters ; but these being matters of which yourselves and your father-superior will be the best judges, I commit you and them with the utmost confidence to the guidance of the Di- 292 THE LIFE OF vine Spirit. I am exceedingly anxious that every allowance shall be made, not only to the sisters generally, but to each one in particular, which can serve to give quiet to their con- sciences, provided that this be done without endangering the harmony of the community; and therefore it must be- come a matter of regulation. I am rejoiced likewise to know that the idea of any other connection than of charity is abandoned between the daughters of St. Joseph and the Society of St. Sulpice; I mean that their interests, admi- nistration, and government, are not to be the same, or, at least, under the same control. This removes many inconveniences for you and for Messrs, of St. Sulpice. No one of that body but your immediate superior, residing near you, will have any share in the government or concerns of the sisters, except (on very rare and uncommon occasions) the superior of the Seminary of Baltimore, but not his society. This, however, is to be understood so as not to exclude the essential super- intendence and control of the archbishop over every commu- nity in his diocese. Your own peculiar situation required special consideration, on account of your dear children. It seemed to me that only general principles for you and your family's case should be now established, grounded on justice and gratitude; and that special considerations should be de- ferred v to the period when the circumstances may require them. At present, too many persons would be consulted, and, among them, some who are incompetent to judge; and even they who are most competent might find their most equitable provisions rendered useless by the changes pro- duced in a few yea.-s. Mr. Dubois has been very explicit in communicating, I believe, whatever it was proper for me to know. On my side, it has been my endeavor, when I read the constitutions, to consult, in the first place, the in- dividual happiness of your dear sisters, and, consequently, your own; secondly, to render their plan of life useful to reli MBS. E. A. 8ETON. 293 gion and the public; thirdly, to confine the administration of your own affairs and the internal and domestic government, as much as possible, to your own institutions once adopted, and within your own walls. Your superior or confessor alone need be informed or consulted in matters where the mother and her council need his advice. I shall congratu- late you and your beloved sisters when the constitution is adopted. It will be like freeing you from a state in which it was difficult to walk straight, as you had no certain way in which to proceed. In the mean time, assure yourself and them of my utmost solicitude for your advancement in the service and favor of God; of my reliance on your prayers; of mine for your prosperity in the important duty of education, which will and must long be your principal, and will always be your partial, employment. A century at least will pass be- fore the exigencies and habits of this country will require, and hardly admit, of the charitable exercises toward the sick sufficient to employ any number of the sisters out of our largest cities; and therefore they must consider the business of education as a laborious, charitable, and permanent object of their religious duty. " I am, with esteem and respect, honored and dear madam, your servant in Christ, J., Ab'p of Bait." Agreeably to the views expressed in this communication of Archbishop Carroll, Mother Seton's relations with her children were specially provided for in the constitutions which were about to be adopted. In the article which re- quired widows who apply for admission into the sisterhood to have previously arranged the temporal concerns of their children, so as to be free from all future molestation on this point, an exception was made in favor of Mother Seton, who was authorized, even after having taken her vows, to watch over her children's welfare, and to administer her and their 26 294 TE2 LIFE 0V property, both that which was then in her hands and what ever should afterward be acquired. It was also provided, in her favor, that, in case she should be elected for a third term to the charge of mother, and the superiors of the so- ciety should deem her continuance in office advisable for the public good and on account of her situation with her children, her election might be ratified. By these wise regulations the valuable services of Mother Seton were secured to th rising community of St. Joseph's, while she herself enjoyed in its peaceful seclusion all the advantages of religious re- tirement, without relinquishing the claims which five beloved children held upon her maternal care. The rules and constitutions having been maturely con- sidered by the superior, the Rev. Mr. Dubois, in conjunction with the superior of St. Mary's Seminary in Baltimore, and the Most Reverend Archbishop, they were submitted to the sisters of St. J oseph's House, in order that any proper represen- tation might be made in relation to them, previous to their final ratification. The sisters were informed on this occa- sion that they were under no obligation of abiding by these rules except of their own choice ; that they were free to ac- cept them or to retire from the community. All, however, were invited to remain, notwithstanding any infirmities they might have contracted since their entrance into the house ; and, having been requested to express their sentiment of approval by raising their hand, all, with one exception, d( ter- mined to embrace the rules as they had been arranged by the superiors and presiding officers of the community. At this time, (January, 1812,) there were twenty sisters in the institution. Immediately after this, the constitutions were again referred to the archbishop and the superior of St Sulpice in Baltimore, who gave them a definitive confirma- tion, (January 17,) and returned them for the observance of the sisters. Mother Seton welcomed them as a precious MRS. E A. 8ETON. 290 deposite, to be sacredly cherished by her and her com- panions, and she never ceased to show her love and vene- ration for these holy regulations/"' The objects of the society being now clearly defined, and the spirit of the rule, with the form of government, being distinctly understood, it only remained for the sisters to enter upon the practice of what had been so wisely matured for the welfare of the institution and the sanctification of its members. With this view, as soon as circumstances per- mitted, an election was held for four officers, to fill the places of Mother, Assistant-Mother, Treasurer, and Procuratrix. In a letter to Mother Seton at this time, Archbishop Carroll did not fail to suggest that the election should be conducted " with that spirit of charity and humility and entire submis- sion to its event, and with that preparation by prayer for the guidance of the Holy Spirit, which would insure constant tranquillity and regularity." Such were the dispositions in- dicated in the constitutions for this important proceeding ; and the fervent souls who then composed St. Joseph's commu- nity were fully sensible of the duty that devolved upon them. As to Mother Seton, the general opinion and desire of the sisterhood having marked her out as the person who would be called to the highest rank in the government, she could not conceal the alarm and diffidence with which she anticipated such a result. She had hitherto, indeed, pre- sided over the institution ; but now that the affairs of the house were to assume a greater regularity, and its inmates were to take a new flight, as it were, toward Christian perfection, she felt her inability to discharge the duties of superior, and re- quired encouragement to undertake them. On this occasion, one of her companions contributed much by her excellent advice to tranquillize her mind. She observed to her that the qualifications of a superior are only those of a Christian parent; that in both prudence should be combined with judg 296 THE LIFE or ment, firmness with moderation. " Be a mild, patient, and firm mother," she continued, "and you need not tremble under the burden of superiority. Jesus can never give you a task above your courage, strength, or ability. Don't let un- easiness and fear appear so plain to the weak. You must at least be the moon, if the sun is too bright and too dignified a character. The more gentle and modest light will suit oui valley, in the growing fervor of your little company. I dc not want you to dart the rays of the great St. Theresa ; times, places, and circumstances, change the order of this life." As the number of sisters at St. Joseph's was small, and they had not been long enough in the house to fulfil all the conditions required by the constitutions for admission into the sisterhood and the enjoyment of its privileges, most of the regulations regarding the election of the principal offi- cers were at this time dispensed with. It was required, however, that all who voted should have been at least one year in the community. It was provided also that the four officers should be appointed on four successive days, and their respective terms of service distributed so as to prevent the election of the mother and that of the other officers from recurring the same year. Having proceeded to the election, the sisters chose the following persons to conduct the affairs of the institution : Mrs. Eliza Ann Seton, as Mother-Supe- rior; Mrs. Rose White, Assistant; Miss Catherine Mullen, Treasurer; Miss Ann Gruber, Procuratrix. To awaken a due spirit of fervor in the practice of the legulations adopted by the sisters, they performed the ex- ercises of a spiritual retreat, which commenced on the 2d of February. They were at the same time informed that a fur ther novitiate of one year would be allowed every one then in the community, in order to try her vocation; after which he could either leave the institution or bind herself by tha MRS. E. A. 6 ETON 297 prescribed vows. No particular form of habit, to be worn by the sisters, was determined by the constitutions : it waa a matter left for decision at some future period, when the community would be more numerous. Until then, they were directed to wear the costume which had been used from the commencement of the sisterhood, and to which we have already referred. It may be remarked, however, that for some years neither the form nor material of the commu- nity-dress had a very definite character. Some weeks after the sisters were established in the valley, the black cap was introduced and afterward retained. The color of the dress, as well as the material, was not very uniform. The straitened funds of the house required the observance of a very rigid economy, and for this reason habits for the sisters were fre- quently made from the articles of clothing which they had brought with them to the institution. In the year 1812, one piece of linsey, pepper-and-salt color, was purchased for this purpose, and the habits manufactured from this stuff were considered by the members of the house as remarkably genteel, compared with others then in use. We may judge, however, that they scarcely reached the proper standard, from a humorous observation of Bishop Cheverus, who, seeing one of the sisters in her linsey habit, inquired of Mother Seton if she was "under penance." At a later period, when the income of the establishment had increased, black bombazette was introduced for the habits of the sisters ; but during tho war between Great Britain and the United States, in conse- quence of the difficulty of procuring this article, flannel was substituted in its place, and was used afterward, during winter and summer. By the introduction of a settled rule of life, Mother Se- ton had the consolation of seeing the community under her charge acquire a still greater prospect of permanency and usefulness, which was confirmed in no small degree by 298 THE LIFE OF the fervor of her spiritual daughters and the numerous ap- plications for admission into the sisterhood. During the course of the year allowed for the trial of the rules, and aa a term of further probation for those who had already en- tered the community, not less than ten ladies were received, many of whom were afterward distinguished ornaments of their profession. But, among the bright examples which the sisterhood presented of zeal for the acquirement of religion! perfection, there was one that afforded Mother Seton a pe- culiar subject of joy and thanksgiving. In the society around her, her eldest daughter Annina was conspicuous. This young lady, from her earliest youth, had been remark- able for the beautiful qualities of her mind and heart, which, with her personal charms, acquired greater lustre in propor- tion as she advanced to a maturer age. While she resided in Baltimore with her mother, previous to her removal to Emmettsburg, although but a child in her fourteenth year, she was the admiration of all who knew her, more for her discretion and propriety of behavior than even for her beauty. A year later she won the affections of a young gentleman of Guadaloupe, of great wealth, superior talents, and finished education; and such were the advantages which this union seemed to promise that it was readily ap- proved by Mother Seton and the friends of her family. Shortly after the match had been arranged, the favorite of Annina set out for his native place, to make the necessary preparations for his settlement in the United States j but the opposition whi :h he met with from a mother, his only parent, thwarted his views, and finally succeeded in prevail- ing over his plighted faith. Mother Seton, throughout thif whole affair, conducted herself as a wise and truly Christian parent. Although she would have preferred not to see hei daughter, at so early an age, absorbed in the romance of routhful passion, she thought it better to aid her with her MRS. E. A. SETON. 209 sympathy and love than to oppose her inclinations. Her prospect in life, so far as human calculations could discern, was indeed all that could flatter the heart of a mother; yet she trusted not to the appearances of this world, but com- mitted the whole matter to the good providence of God, that he might bring it to the most favorable issue. Her prayer* were not in vain. The Almighty permitted that a union which would have drawn her eldest child into the vortex of worldly cares and temptations should never take place, be- cause he desired himself to be her only spouse, and called her to the enjoyment of his special graces. " Oh, how good has the Source of all good been to her I" exclaimed Mother Seton, in alluding to her escape from the ties that had bound her. Her daughter viewed the result of her engage- ment in the same light. Although she was prepared to fulfil her promises with the utmost fidelity, maturer reflection had convinced her of the superior happiness which they enjoy who make God the sole object of their affections; and when she learned that she was free from the bonds she had con- tracted, she rejoiced, and thanked God for the favor he had bestowed upon her. Availing herself of the facilities which the blessed retirement of St. Joseph's Valley afforded, she made rapid progress in the formation of her character, and in the practice of the Christian virtues. When absent from the valley, she sighed to return to its peaceful shades, where she could devote herself more faithfully to her religious duties. At one time, being on a visit to Baltimore, although she resided with an amiable and virtuous family, she wrote earnestly to her mother to send for her, that she might be free from the distractions and temptations to which a secular life exposed her. Her language is that of the most fervent and unaffected piety. In one of her letters she gays: "The waving poplars before uiy window is all that looks like home; but, looking through them, I see no pure 300 THE LIFE Of blue skies or peaceful mountains; only smoking chimneys and high brick buildings. Oh, my mother, how hard to be good in Baltimore I" Many were the secret acts of mortification performed by this heroic girl. While yet among the num- ber of pupils, she observed, as faithfully as any of the sis- ters, the rules and customs of the community; rising at four o'clock in winter and summer, and repairing to the chapel, where, without fire, even in the severest weather, she would spend an hour in prayer and meditation before the offering of the holy sacrifice. After mass, she assembled her favorite class of the village children, whom she delighted to teach, but particularly to form their young hearts to the love and practice of piety. The young ladies of the academy, struck by the example of her many virtues, presented as they were in so attractive a form, were stimulated to the emulation of her conduct; and some of them associated themselves under her direction, for the purpose of being animated in the great work of their sanctification. This edifying band, consisting of ten or more of the elder girls in the academy, was called a decury, and was governed by particular regulations, tend- ing to the spiritual advancement of its members. Frequent acts of penance were performed by them ; and every even- ing, when they assembled, each one drew by lot a virtue to be practised. Anna Seton was the life and soul of this pious company ; and the young ladies, with a model like her before their eyes, vied with each other in the perform- ance of duty. Her very appearance was an incentive to virtue ; for her intellectual and winning features, together with every action, not only bsspoke the superiority of her mind, but, as a bright mirror, reflected with redoubled lustre and with powerful effect the beauty of Christian piety. She had the happy talent of accommodating her words and counsels to the capacity and wants of those to whom she addressed herself. The following instruction which she MBS. E. A. SETON. 801 gave to a child who was preparing for her first communion is remarkable for its simplicity, and for the zeal which it breathes for the spiritual welfare of her neighbor : "DEAR THERESA: " I only write to you to put you in mind of the great action you are going about; and do, my dear love, try to pre- pare your heart to receive our blessed Lord. Oh, think how good he is to you in granting you such a favor! Spend, every day till Christmas, a quarter of an hour in the chapel, to offer your heart to our blessed Lord and beg him to pre- pare it. You know you cannot do it yourself. Offer your- self to the Blessed Virgin; beg her to make you her child. Pray our dear Lord to be born in your heart, as he was in the stable of Bethlehem for our salvation. Oh, remember, Theresa, you can make your first communion but once : try to make it well, then. Think, my love, how happy you will be if you receive him for your salvation. Oh, when death comes, how you will wish that you had made it well ! but it will be too late then, and how dreadful if you have made it ill ! Take care : throw yourself, in spirit, at the foot of the cross; say to our Lord you are a weak child, you can do no- thing of yourself. Beg him to send the holy spirit of his love in your heart, to consume it with this blessed fire; beg him to enlighten your faith, that you may receive him worthily. Oh, how happy would I think myself if 1 could again mak my first communion I I would think I could never pro- Dare myself enough. In the course of the day, while you we at your lessons, sometimes think, ' Oh, how happy am I ! Jesus, my dear Jesus, is coming to me. dearest Lord, prepare me for yourself.' Try to serve him, and make reso- lutions to do your best. Try, when you think any thing will make you angry, to reflect, ' Is this preparing to receive my Jesus?' When you are at your prayers, keep your head 302 THE LIFE OF bowed down and your hands joined, and do not look about the chapel, because you need not think our Lord will listen to your prayers when you do not even think of what you are saying to him. . Oh, my love, if you knew what I feel for you and the girls who are to make their first com- munion ! All I ask of you is to beg Him to prepare your heart and to give you a true sense of what you are going to do. I know I need say nothing if our Lord pleases to make you his; all I wish is to put you in mind, because I would be so happy to think you would be forever his. Pray for me, dear love j beg our dear Lord to make me his and to teach me how to love him." The beauty of this letter consists chiefly in its adaptation to the simplicity of the child to whom it was addressed, who could not have understood its excellent lessons had they been couched in any other language. The absent pupils of St. Joseph's, as well as those in the institution, were ob- jects of Anna Seton's virtuous zeal. They who had been her companions recalled with grateful emotions her example and conversation, which had produced impressions equally profound and salutary. They remembered with joy the happy influence she had exerted over them, and thanked God for the privilege of having formed her acquaintance. On her part, she sought by the wisest admonitions to cherish and cultivate the precious seed which had been sown in their hearts, and to prevent it from being dissipated by the storms of temptation so common in the world. Writing to a young friend who was called to brave its dangers, she thus encou- rages and directs her for the conflict : " You say you wish to be resigned to live in the wicked world, as you call it; but, dearest H , you have many opportunities of serving and pleasing our dear Lord in it. Make use of them : it w for them you will be called to account. Here is the first MRS E. A. 8ETON. 803 day of Advent, and we are chiefly to keep in mind the judg- ment-day : never cease praying, my sweet friend, that we may meet one another joyfully in that day of terrors. When we think of the eternity which follows, we may well tremble How good a use should we make of the few moments which our God gives us here, to gain a happy one ! Be not care- less. If those moments are lost, eternity will also he lost. Wheii we meet there, you may thank me for reminding you, though I think so little myself of that awful day so soon to come. Meet me at the foot of the cross, next Sunday, at eight in the morning. Pray for your Anna." In another letter to her sister, she says : " Come, we must walk on resolutely, though the way is so rough and strewn with thorns. Don't forget to say the prayers we joined in for a happy death. You know we ought to take a little trouble for that which should be the concern of our whole life" Well could this fervent young lady admonish others of the "one thing necessary;" for she made it the continual object of her own thoughts and efforts. Eternity was the great consideration that occupied her mind and formed the inces- sant aim to which all her actions were directed. Whatever she said, whatever she wrote, all turned to one point, to be prepared for death, that, like the wise virgins in the gospel, she might be always ready, with her lamp trimmed, to meet the heavenly Bridegroom. Such was Anna Seton, a model of piety, regularity, and modesty to her companions, and a most edifying example of virtue to the sisters themselves. To promote her spiritual advancement and consecrate her- self more perfectly to the service of God, she applied for admission into the sisterhood, which was readily granted ; but this fervent soul was already ripe for heaven, and was Boon to he called to the eternal rewards for which she had BO diligently labored. Toward the end of September, 1811, she was taken with chills and fever, and pain in the breant 304 THE LIFE Of and side, the consequence of exposure to the rain, and in a short time she was reduced to the necessit7 of confinement to her room and bed. In addition to tli3se symptoms, a violent cough supervened, which left no doubt as to the nature of her complaint, which proved to be a confirmed phthisis. During her long illness, the virtues of Anna Seton shone forth with increased splendor, particularly hei patience, mortification, disengagement from creatures, and conformity to the will of God. Her beautiful sentiments and glowing fervor have thus been traced by the pen of her mother, in the form of dialogue and narrative : '* When first we found her complaint obstinate, speaking of her danger, she said : ' I never can believe that, after all our dear Lord has done for me in this house, and attaching me so much to it, he will ever let me leave it. He knows I always will be his and his alone.' 'Well, but, my Anna, if poor mother should die, or be no longer Mother, if strangers should fill her place, could you have courage to stay?' 'Why, dearest mother, if another was in your place, they would not hinder me from serving our Lord, when they saw I did my best ; but if our Dearest* will take n?e with- out trying me, I am very willing. But oh, how I have abused his graces ! If only I had made use of the oppor- tunities he has given me here ! If the girls di4 but know how sorry I am for every vexation I have given the Bisters, and every fault I have committed against silence at table, and every bad example ! Oh, if I get better, I will be dif- ferent in every respect.' When it was proposed, with a view of relieving her, to put a seton in her side, she ob- served, ' Yes, my mother, I agree to it, though I do not be- lieve it will do my body any good j but let me pay iay penance for so often drawing in my waist to look suiJL; and That is, our Lord. It was % com men expression at St. Joseph's. MRS. E. A. SETON. 80& imitate the looks of my companions. Let the ribs now draw with pain for having drawn with vanity.' When the operation was postponed, 'Oh, no,' she said; 'to-day is Friday : let it be done to-day ; it is the best day, my dear Lord.' Through all the painful dressing of the wound, and drawing the cord every day, she gave no other expression than the lifting of her streaming eyes, and the exclama- tion, ' My dear Lord !' Sometimes she would say, when taking her powders, ' My mother, why would you keep me ? If my life is prolonged a little, it must be done at last.' She once observed, ' Every one will think in Baltimore my ill health is occasioned by disappointment, that is, morti- fication ; Vat our dear Lord knows how much I have thanked him for my escape ; he knows how I dreaded being obliged to fulfil my foolish promises.' To her former companions she wrote : ' I am suffering now in earnest, not as we used to do on our knees, when meditating the passion of our dear Lord ; we used to wish to suffer with him, but, when called to prove the wish, how different is the reality from the imagination ! Let my weakness be a lesson to you.' When I half reproached her for her little care of her health, rising at the first bell and even being on the watch to ring it the moment the clock struck, washing at the pump in the se- verest weather, often eating in the refectory what sickened her stomach, 'Ah, dear mother!' she replied, coloring deeply, as if she was wounding humility, 'if our Lord called me up to meditate, was I wrong to go ? If I washed at the tump, did not others more delicate do it ? If I ate what I lid not like, was it not proper, since it is but a common Christian act to control my appetite ? Besides, what would my example have been to my decury, if I had done other- wise in any of those cases ? Indeed, I have given too much bad example without that. Dearest Lord, pardon me.' " What the feelings of Mother Seton were in witnessing 26* 306 THE LIFE or the sufferings and rapid decline of her daughter can be better imagined than described. To see so gifted and be- loved a child, in whom youth, beauty, talents, piety, all combined to make her the idol of a parent's heart, sensibly fading from her view, was more than nature could bear, unaided by the influences of religion. But, where nature was wanting, grace superabounded to strengthen and sup- port her. With all the devotedness that maternal love could inspire, she watched day and night by the couch of her dying Annina, bestowing every care and administering every comfort with the most unremitting attention, and exhibiting the most heroic courage and resignation to the will of God. Mother and daughter seemed to vie with each other in the display of Christian sentiment under this painful trial ; and it would be difficult to decide which was the more worthy of admiration, the daughter pressing forward with eager- ness to her heavenly home, or the mother generously offer- ing the sacrifice of her first-born child. The beauty of the scene now passing in St. Joseph's Valley was felt far beyond its hallowed limits. From every quarter was the voice of sympathy, comfort, and encouragement, addressed to Mother Seton and her suffering daughter. The Rev. Mr. Dubourg, of St. Mary's College, Baltimore, thus wrote to the for- mer : " From your report, I entertain little hopes indeed ; but the dispositions of Annina must console you. Happy mother, amid all your trials ! Already have you sent up before you two adopted daughters. Annina's anxiety to follow thcra does not surprise me, and must afford you great spiritual comfort. Why did you bring them to light but to prepare them for heaven ? The 63oner they have done with the trials of the passage, the better for them, the more con- doling for you. I am sometimes thinking of the generous mother of the Maccabees, or of St. Felicitas, who both had the happiness to exhort their seven sons to martyrdom and MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 307 to be united with them in the Lord. But I am still more moved at the remembrance of Mary at the foot of the cross. Your situation comes near to theirs, and you will find in your faith the same motives of courage. Look up; yes, look up. Nothing here below is worthy of your attention. Nothing surely can offer you a substitute for your daily losses." >18> From Archbishop Carroll, who took the liveliest interest in the welfare of Mother Seton and her family, she received the most grateful expression of his sympathy and ad- vice : "While the situation of your dear Anna Maria fills with sorrow the hearts of your and her friends, they have at the same time occasion to bless God for her singular re- signation of herself into the arms of Providence, her humble confidence in divine mercy, and your truly Christian forti- tude, the effect of lively faith. Indeed, it is to me a matter of doubt whether you will not stand in greater need of that fortitude, to wipe off the tears and allay the anguish of dear Anna's brothers and sisters when she will be removed from them, than to moderate the vehemence of your own sensi- bility at losing the visible presence of such an angel. May the Prince of peace continue to calm the emotions of your soul ! We will unite our prayers to those of the favorites of heaven by whom you are surrounded, that the holy will of God may be done and his glory thereby increased. . . Let dear Anna know that, viewing her almost as the happy inhabitant of a better world, I feel for her an awful respect, and, may I not add, veneration." Bishop Cheverus, of Boston, wrote to her in a similar strain: "Since I re- csived your last, I am every day with you at the bedside of our dear Anna. I cry with you, I rejoice with you, I prny with you and the dear child, and think I hear her repeat the admirable and moving words she addressed to you. Instead of consoling, I can hardly help congratulating yon and your swoet and holy daughter." These words of com- 808 THE LIFE Ot fort and instruction from distinguished pastors of th Church were carefully treasured up by Mother Seton and her suffering child. The situation of the latter becoming daily more critical, it was deemed advisable to administer the last sacraments, which she received with extraordinary sentiments of fervor on the 30th of January. Death was now advancing at a rapid pace ; but she witnessed ite ap- proach with the most admirable composure, and with a rare energy of soul encouraged and soothed the grieving hearts of all around her. We cannot better describe her real dis- positions and those of her saintly parent at this time than in the words of the latter to a friend : "It is true: the dear, lovely, and excellent child of my heart is on the point of departure. The last week (second in February) she has been every moment on the watch, ex- pecting every coughing-fit would be the last; but, with a peace, resignation, and contentment of soul truly consoling, not suffering a tear to be shed round her, she has some- thing comforting to say to all, telling all her many com- panions who come occasionally to her bedside, ' See how soon you may die ! think how you would wish to be, if you were on this bed of death with me !' always calculating with me, 1 If I was to live, dearest mother,' and drawing all her con- clusions that she is not only willing but happy to go, before she passes the dangers and trials of future years. When the last change took place, and cold sweat, gasping breathing, and agonizing pain, indicated immediate dissolution, the pain of her eyes so great she could no longer fix them, she said, 1 1 can no longer look at you, my dear crucifix, but 1 enter my agony with my Saviour: I drink the cup with him. Yes, adorable Lord, your will, and yours alone, be done I I will it too. I leave my dearest mother because you will it- my dearest, dearest mother.' Poor mother, you will say; and yet, happy mother ! You can well understand this : for MRS. . A. BETON 309 me, dear friend, to see her receive the last sacraments with my sentiments of them, her precious soul stretching out to- ward heaven, the singular purity of her life, of which I could give you the most amiable proofs, my calculations of this world, all, dear friend, combine to silence poor nature." Nature, indeed, was hushed on this occasion, that fait! might have its perfect triumph. On the Sunday before Annina's death, the mother, with a martyr's firmness, and the daughter, with equal energy of soul, desired that the young ladies of the academy should be introduced into her chamber, that the contemplation of the wasted form and faded beauty there presented might teach them a lasting les- son of the frailty of human life. The boarders, fifty in num- ber, were distributed into bands, who were admitted one after the other; first, the children who had made their first com- munion, then the class that was preparing for it, and, lastly, those who composed Annina's decury. On appearing before her, she addressed them in the most impressive manner, her voice being like that of one from the grave : " My dear girls, come and look at your poor Anna; see how I am re- duced who but a few weeks ago was as well, as gay, as play- ful, and as happy, as you are. See me now in the arms of death ; look at the state of my breast : I must now go to eternity. The mortification has already commenced." Here, uncovering her neck, to let them behold its sad condition, after the dreadful sufferings she had endured the night be- fore, "See," she continued, "the body which I used to dress and lace up so well : what is it now ? Look at these hands : tue worms will have poor banqueting here. What is beauty ? what is life? Nothing; nothing. Oh, love and serve God faithfully, and prepare for eternity. Some of you, dear girls, may soon be as I am now ; be good, and pray for me." Sobs and tears were the only nply to this moving address, nhich sank deeply into the hearts of all present 310 THE LIFE OF The nearer she drew to her last hour, the more absorbed did she become with the thought and desire of her eternal home. She delighted in hearing her favorite canticles of piety sung in her presence, or in repeating such parts of them as most inflamed her devotion. " Eternity, eternity !" she would often exclaim, "of never-ceasing joys. Eternity of never-ceasing sighs! Oh may I escape those dreadful woes I" Desirous of completing the sacrifice which she had made to God of her heart and its affections, Sister Annina requested the favor of being permitted to die a professed Sister of Charity; and, although the time had not yet arrived for any of the community to be admitted to the usual vows, she was allowed, on the day preceding her death, to bind her- self by those sacred obligations of poverty, chastity, and obe- dience, thus becoming the first professed member of the sis- terhood. On the morning of her departure, she called her two younger sisters, requesting them to kneel at the foot of her bed and sing these favorite lines : "Though all the powers of hell surround. No evil will I fear; For while my Jesus is my friend, No danger can come near." It was a heart-rending scene. The desire to please a be- loved and dying sister nerved the young creatures to over- come their feelings, and with streaming eyes and throl: bing hearts they entered upon the task; but the overpowerings of grief soon compelled them to desist. Mother Seton, with a fortitude rarely to be seen, sat supporting her expiring child, while the silent tears coursed down her cheeks, until the last sad conflict of nature became too severe. Some of the sisters prevailed upon her to change her position, when she retired before the Blessed Sacrament, until the scene was over and the pure spirit of Sister Annina had winged its flight to MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 311 heaven. She departed this life on the 12th of March, 1812, in the 17th year of her age. No sooner was the intelligence of the event communicated to the young ladies of the school, together with the last advice and farewell of their venerated companion, than the house resounded with sobs and lamenta- tions. Every one was eager to kiss the last words of the angel of the school. Then they all retired before the altar to recommend her precious soul to the mercy of its Creator. On the following day, her remains were deposited in the grave, amid the prayers and regrets of the whole commu- nity, the girls of the academy clothed in white, as an appro- priate emblem of the pure and spotless character of her whose loss they so deeply deplored. Mother Seton, in fol- lowing her sweet child to her resting-place, appeared more like a statue of grief than a living being. But one tear was seen upon her cheek, as she returned from the overwhelming scene; and, raising her eyes to heaven, she uttered slowly, as if yielding to the full force of the sentiment, " Father, thy will be done." Among her companions, Sister Annina was never forgotten. For several years, the children of the vil- lage delighted in covering her grave with moss and the lily of the valley. Every time they came to St. Joseph's school they would bring their collection of beautiful flowers to adorn the spot where reposed the beloved preceptress who had taught them so many lessons of virtue. Each one pos- sessed some cherished memento of Miss Annina Seton's kindness and affection. The departure of her eldest child, in the bloom of life and possessing so many endearing qualities, could not but be eensibly felt by Mother Seton, although faith sustained her and controlled her feelings. As she says herself, in writing to a friend, " The separation from my angel has left so new and deep an impression on my mind that, if 1 was not obliged to live in these dear ones, (her children,) I should 812 THE LIFE 0V unconsciously die in her : unconsciously, for never, by a fre act of the mind, would I ever regret his will." " Who can tell the silent solitude of the mother's soul ? its peace and rest in God 1" At another time, the anniversary of Anna's birthday,* which brought her forcibly to her mind, she pours forth one of those plaintive strains which religion does not refuse to nature when indulged with due subordination to the spirit of faith. Augustin would not be condemned for the tears shed over a beloved parent, who had so often wept in her solicitude for him. Here the mother could be al- lowed to mourn over the loss of a child who had become endeared to her by every consideration of filial duty. " The remembrance of my lovely one," she writes, "now forces itself in every moment. Her singular modesty and grace of action, the lifting her eyes from the ground to cast the rays of her very soul into mine, which was often her only expression of her desires or wishes, and now I am so happy that I never contradicted any of them, her rational and pure sentiments set down in so many ways, the neatness and order of all her little affairs, and ingenious way of uniting economy and elegance in her plain and simple dress, this was always a delight to poor mother, but now an admiration, and it appears to me I never saw or shall see any thing to be compared to her. Poor, poor mother, let her talk to you, dear Eliza; if you coild have seen the moment when kneel- ing at the foot of her bed to rub her cold, cold feet a day or two before ! she saw the tears, and, without being able to hide her own, although smiling at the same time, she re- peated the so-often-asked question, ' Can it be for me ' Should you not rejoice ? It will be but a moment, and re- united for eternity, a happy eternity with my mother ! Wha4 a thought !' These were her very words, and when in death'* May 3. MRS. E. A. SETON. *U Agony her-qniverin^ lips could -with difficulty utter one word feeling a tear tall ou her face, she smiled, and said with great effort, 'Laugh mother Jesus,' at intervals, as she could not put two words together. Oh, the last look of the eyes, as if piercing the clouds, and her dear hands locked on the breast and never unclasped ! the dear ulster who dressed her in her white bed-gown cut the sleeves to preserve her posture, poor mother must say no more now ; only pray that she may be strengthened. . . . You believe me when I say, with my whole soul, ' THY WILL BE DONE FOREVER.' Eternity was Anna's darling word. I find it written is every thing that belonged to her : music, books, copies, the walls of her little chamber, everywhere that word. . . What would you give to adorn our white enclosure, contain- ing the precious three,* with your myrtles and jessamines} The children have covered them with violets, and all the spring-flowersf of the neighborhood are collected there, the lily of the valley in abundance. So familiar they are with death, they have marked out my place next to Nina, and every day some new rosebush, or shrub, or flower, is carried there. K will sometimes kiss me in a transport-, and ask, ' Oh, mother, won't we be happy when we are there ?' Little B is more given to tears, and often says, l If I should be left behind !'"J No sooner did the intelligence of Sister Annina's death reach her friends abroad, than expressions of the wannest sympathy were directed to Mother Seton. But she was ad- dressed rather in a tone of congratulation than of grief, for ha>ing sent before her a child so remarkable for her piety * Harriet Seton, Sister Cecilia Seton, and Sister Annina. f This letter was written in May, 1812. } How truly could the inmates of St Joseph's say, with the apoitl*, ** Our conversation is in heaven" 27 314 THE LIFE Of and innocence. " Happy mother !" exclaims one of her former pupils, " in having such a daughter to return to OUT dearest Lord. Happy I think myself in having such a friend in heaven." BOOK VHI. Bey. Simon Q. Brut4 becomes the assistant of Mr. Dubois Laborioot charge of the latter Notice of Mr. Brute" Archbishop Carroll visit* the Sisterhood Fervor of the Community Virtues of Sister Maria Murphy Her illness and death Spirit of poverty at St Joseph's First vows Lessons and example of Mother Seton Deaths in the Community Sisters Eleanor Thompson, Benedicta Corish, Agues Duffy, and Catharine Mullen Sisters called to Philadelphia Take charge of an Orphan Asylum in that city Its origin and progress Sisters of Charity in Kentucky Mother Seton's attention to the Aca- demy Her qualifications as a preceptress of female youth Conduct toward the pupils and their parents Wisdom in the formation of character Instructions to the young ladies Her manner Mildness in reproof Salutary effect of her instructions. RELEASED from the constant care which the illness of her daughter had imposed, Mother Seton turned her attention more particularly to the wants of the sisterhood and aca- demy, which afforded continual employment to her charity and zeal. In September, 1812, her community had the hap- piness of receiving the regular services of the Rev. Simon Gabriel Brute", who had been appointed the assistant of the Rev. Mr. Dubois. The duties of the latter clergyman had been daily increasing; and, although since the year 1810 he had been aided in his arduous labours by the Rev. Charles Duhamel, who had the pastoral charge of the congregation in Emmettsburg, he required additional help for his varied and important occupations. Besides having the charge of Mt. St. Mary's congregation, whose members were scattered MRS. . A. SETON. 15 over the country round and called upon him in the time of sickness and other emergencies, he was the president of the College and superior of the Sisters of Charity, either of which offices would have been sufficient to occupy a man of ordinary zeal.* To these engrossing occupations he devoted himself with unremitting attention, and almost alone, as at this time he could command but a very limited assistance. Every morning he went, before the dawn of day, to cele- brate mass at St. Joseph's, nearly two miles distant, and im- mediately on his return he entered upon a round of uninter- rupted duty in the college., where he acted not only as presi- dent, but as the professor of the chief branches that were taught. This, with the intended enlargement of the course of study, and constant demand upon his time for the visit- ing of the sick and the administration of the sacraments, rendered it all-important that he should have the aid of a zealous and efficient priest to relieve him from a portion of the labor that threatened to overpower him. Such was the Rev. Mr. Brute", whose distinguished talents and virtues became a most valuable acquisition to the two institutions in the vicinity of Emmettsburg and to the Catholic popu- lation generally. Mr. Brute" was born at Rennes, in France, in 1779, of wealthy and respectable parents, whose first care was to edu- cate their son in the fear and love of God. During the French revolution, the fortunes of his family being scattered, he assisted his mother, the only surviving parent, in a print- ing establishment, which she had undertaken as a means of subsistence. As soon as circumstances permitted, he en- tered upon a course of medical study, and, notwithstanding the spirit of irreligion which prevailed at the time, he fear- lessly professed his faith and fulfilled its duties. In 1803, * The college at this time (1812) numbered upward of sixty itudeoU. 816 THE LIFE Of he graduated in medicine with the highest honors; but, be- lieving that the will of God called him to another sphere of life, he commenced the study of theology in the seminary of St. Sulpitius, at Paris, and, after five years of continual ap- plication to acquire the knowledge and virtues of the eccle- siastical state, he was promoted to the holy order of priest- hood. After his ordination Mr. Brut6 became a member of the Sulpitian society, and taught theology in the seminary of his native place until the year 1810, when he embarked for America in the company of the Rt. Rev. Mr. Flaget. On his arrival in Baltimore, he became a director in St. Mary's Seminary, and taught a class of philosophy in tba college adjoining it. Here he soon distinguished himself by his ability as a scholar and divine, particularly in a con- troversy which was soon afterward provoked by the adver- saries of Catholicity, and during which he gave signal proof of his zeal for religion and of the eminent talent and learn- ing which he was capable of wielding in its defence. No clergyman could have been more suitably appointed to aid Mr. Dubois than Mr. Brute", whose physical activity was not less remarkable than his intellectual and moral qualities. Besides sharing in the duties of the college and the holy ministry, he celebrated mass four times in the week at St. Joseph's sisterhood. Mother Seton derived the greatest benefit from his excellent counsels. She and Mr. Brute" were congenial spirits; their minds would seem to have been cast in the same mould. A vivid fancy and ardent temperament, with an entire yielding of himself to the im- pulses of faith, caused Mr. Brute" to feel most powerfully the truths of religion, and with a corresponding fervor to an- nounce them in word or writing. His ideas flowed so ra- piily that at times he would not stop to give them a full expression in language; but he poured forth his subjects, a it were, in flashes of word and sentiment, leaving much to be MRS. E. A. SETON. 817 supplied and felt by those to whom he addressed himself. In Mother Seton he found a soul who could follow him in his lofty and beautiful flights on the wings of faith, who could catch the fire of his thoughts and commune with him in the enjoyment of their elevating power. From him in a great measure did she learn how to preserve her soul in peace amid the trials of her position, and, abandoning her- self to the will of God in all things, to look forward in hope and joy to the term of all earthly suffering and vicissitude. Soon after Mr. Brute's arrival at the Mountain, St. Jo- seph's valley was cheered by a visit from Archbishop Car- roll, who administered the sacrament of confirmation at the sisterhood. It was always a happiness for Mother Seton to receive the directions of this enlightened prelate, who, on his part, was ever charmed with the edifying scenes which St. Joseph's house presented to his view. At this period, he beheld the community all vicing with each other in the prac- tice of Christian perfection, and preparing themselves, by the duties of the noviceship, for a more solemn consecration to the service of God.* Mother Seton, both by her instructions and example, animated them in the pursuit of their holy vocation. She addressed them frequently on this subject, sometimes reading to them the observations of some spiritual writer, and then adding her own reflections. The principal lessons which she inculcated were a spirit of sacrifice and mortification, a generous and willing service to God, and a * The following lines, written by the archbishop to Mother Seton m few months after his visit to the sisterhood, will show the fatherly interest whish he felt in the institution : " If I had time for a lengthy letter, you would, perhaps, receive such a one ; for it would give me pleasure to write to you on different subjects, and recall to my recollection, not only your dearest sisters and your amiable children generally, but each of them individually. But now I can do no more than recommend myself to their holy prayers and assure thorn of my paternal affection." 27* 818 THE LIFE OF disposition of soul to be ready for any manifestation of th divine will. But what she preached to others as the proper spirit of those who aspired to be the favored spouses of Jesus Christ, she never failed to illustrate in her own daily life; convinced that the highest duty of a superior is to lead souls to God by the influence of example. Nor was she disappointed in her expectations. Her spiritual daughters zealously aimed at the practice of the virtues which sho in- culcated, and gave joy to her heart by their progress in the ways of God. "You would not believe," she writes to a friend, "how beautifully our affairs go on. Oh! what per- spective for eternity ! To be sure, the beauty of the cross is the greatest charm, but it is that which makes the pros- pect so good." Among those most distinguished for then virtue in St. Joseph's house was Sister Maria Murphy, the second person who had joined the community. She was a native of Ire- land, and a niece of Matthew Carey, Esq., of Philadelphia, so well known for his active philanthropy and the vindication of his countrymen against British oppression. Possessed of a singular sweetness of disposition and of great personal charms, she beheld a bright prospect before her in the world : but the grace of God inspired her with an aversion for its empty enjoyments, and led her to seek a more perfect hap- piness in religious retirement. From the day on which she took the habit, she was conspicuous for the holiness of her life; her humility, modesty, and recollection being objects of admiration and edification to all around her. Such was her gentleness of manners that Mother Seton gave her the name of " dove." Although a lover of silence, from her habit of recollection, she always met her companions and others with a smile. Notwithstanding her delicate health, holy poverty and mortification were her favorite virtues. She was known to select the oldest and worst articles of clothing, MRS. E. A. SETON. 816 and to delight in taking for her meal the refuse of the table. As it was feared that her austerity might be injurious to iier health, she became an object of vigilance. One day, being obliged, on account of her occupations, to dine with another sister after the community hour, ad finding that the supply was too scanty for two persons, she relinquished her portion to her companion without being observed, placing herself in such a position as to conceal what she was eating. But the other sister, having been led by suspicion to exa- mine more closely into the matter, discovered that she waa dining on a bit of hard bread and a cup of water; and she observed to her, " Dear sister, if you do not take your por- tion, I will tell mother. You are killing yourself." Upon this, Sister Maria looked at her companion with an air of seriousness, and said, " Ah, I did not expect that of you : you know how much I have offended God, and how great a penance I owe for my sins. I do so little in satisfaction for them. Why would you prevent me ?" On saying this, she took, with great humility, the part that had been assigned her, but not without mingling it with her tears. Naturally of a weak constitution, she was subject to frequent attacks of sickness, which at length resulted in a disease of the lungs. On one occasion, she was directed to bathe her feet in warm water, which the sister infirmarian having brought, she put her feet into it and immediately withdrew them, observing that the water was too hot. But her attendant insisting that it was not too warm, she returned her feet into the vessel and held them there as long as she was required, although it caused her intense pain, and produced an inflammation from which she suffered for a long time after. By this assiduotu practice of the virtues of her state she soon became ripe for heaven. During her last illness, when the holy Viaticum was brought to her, such was the transport of her joy in behold- ing the Sacred Host before her, that she almost fell from her 320 THE LIFE OF bed in an effort to go and meet her heavenly Spouse. Hei countenance beaming with inexpressible delight, she ex- claimed, "Oh, my Jesus, my dear Lord!" and then, as if re- collecting herself, she fell back on the pillow, and received with great composure and fervor the adorable object of hei love. She calmly expired on the 15th of October, 1812 leaving her memory in benediction among all who knew her In alluding to her death, Mother Seton exclaimed, "What a delight for poor mother to have been, and to be still, her mother! The natural one was present, but the spiritual one, who had all her little secrets of the soul, was the dearest." During the period allotted for the trial of the rules and for determining the vocation of those who had joined the community, abundant opportunities were presented of culti- vating that spirit of poverty which was characteristic of the society. The war between Great Britain and the United States had caused a considerable rise in the price of mer- chandise, and made it necessary to introduce a more rigid economy. With this view, it was proposed that the use of sugar should be dispensed with among the sisters, a sacrifice to which they readily assented. A deliberation was also held respecting the use of cotton instead of linen, the former Deing a much cheaper article and more conformable to the spirit of holy poverty. Though the change involved no little inconvenience for many, especially in the warm season, all were in favor of adopting the coarsest material of clothing, as best suited to the servants of God. This disposition to practise the evangelical counsels was the best preparation which the sisters of St. Joseph's could bring to those solemn engagements by which they were to seal their consecration to God in the service of their neighbor. They had left the world, with all its attractions, to sanctify themselves by la- boring in the cause of charity; and the time had now arrived MRS. E A SETON. 821 for completing the sacrifice, by the simple vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, thus binding themselves in a special manuei tc the renunciation of earthly things, and even of their own will, that they might be free to execute the will of God in any employments to which they would be called." 1 ' Moro than a year had been allowed them as a term of pro- bation, at the expiration of which, eighteen members of the community were admitted to the above-mentioned obliga tions, viz. : Mother- Superior, Mary Eliza Ann Seton, and Sisters Rose White, Catharine Mullen, Ann Gruber, Eliza- beth Boyle, Angela Brady, Cecilia O' Con way, Susan Glossy, Mary Ann Butler, Adele Salva, Louise Roger, Margaret George, Sarah Thompson, Eleanor Thompson, Martina Quinn, Fanny Jordan, Theresa Conway, and Julia Shirk This impressive and joyful ceremony took place on the 19th of July, 1813, and gave a new impulse to the zeal and piety of the sisterhood. The following month a novitiate was established in due form, Sister Catharine Mullen being appointed mistress of novices, who were then about ten in number, eight of whom had entered the community during the previous year. By the admission to the vows and the opening of the novitiate the society became complete in its organization, and was prepared to extend its usefulness abroad, as soon as Divine Providence would indicate the proper moment. In the mean time the sisters were full of zeal and activity in the various occupations assigned them, irhich was a source of great joy to the heart of their venera- ble superior. Though she felt, as her humility expressed it in a letter to Archbishop Carroll, " like a dry and barren tree" in the midst of her spiritual daughters, she was the prop and encouragement of all around her, animating them by her exhortations, and displaying a bright example of every rirtue that became their profession. The following extract* frum her writings will serve to show the style and spirit of 522 THE LIFE OF the instructions which she gave to those under her diree tion. Speaking of the interior life, she says, " You must be in right earnest, or you will do little or nothing. First, it re- quires a constant guard over our senses. What sort of inte- rior life would you lead, if, every time the door opens, or if any one passes you, you must look up ? if you must hear what is said, though it does not concern you? or, if you remain silent and in your modest attention to your duty, what would be your interior life if you let your thoughts wander from God? I once heard a silent person say that she was listening to every thing around her and making her Judas reflections on all that was said or done, and another that she delighted in silence, because she could be thinking of her dear people. But you know better than that. Still, I will tell you what is my own great help. I once read or heard that an interior life meant but the continuation of our Saviour's life in us; that the great object of all his mysteries waa to merit us the grace of this interior life and communi- cate it to us, it being the end of his mission to lead us into that sweet land of promise, a life of constant union with himself. And what was the first rule of our dear Saviour's life ? You know it was to do his Father's will. Well, then, the first end 1 propose in our daily work is to do the will of God; secondly, to do it in the manner he wills it; and thirdly, to do it because it is his will. I know what his will is by those who direct me ; whatever they bid me do, if it is ever so small in itself, is the will of God for me. Then, do it in the manner he wills it, not sewing an old thing as if it waa new, or a new thing as if it was old ; not fretting be- cause the oven is too hot, or in a fuss because it is too cold You understand : not flying and driving because you are hur ried, nor creeping like a snail because no one pushes you Oar dear Saviour was never in extremes. The third objed MRS. E. A. BETON. 823 in to do this will because God wills it, that is, to be ready to quit at any moment, and to do any thing else we may be called to." Discoursing on the virtue of walking in the presence of God, one of the principal helps in the spiritual life, she says, " You know how apt your mind is to wander, and how easily you are led away by sensible objects. You will never re- ceive any lively impressions of grace until you overcome this dissipation of mind. If you are ever so fervent at your prayers, or desire ever so much to be good, it will be all like putting hartshorn in a bottle and leaving the cork out : what will it be worth ? So, all the prayers, readings, and good talk you love so much will be to little purpose unless you place a sentinel at the door of your heart and mind You often lose in ten minutes by your dissipation of mind more than you had gained a whole day by mortification. See your dear Saviour alone in the midst of your soul ; like a shepherd, he calls for all the powers of your soul, all the affections of your heart, to come around him like his own little flock. But how they are scattered about I See, he holds a paper in his dear hand : what is written on it ? l Speak little, my child; pray much; cherish no attach- ment; keep close to me; let every thing that passes pass; mind nothing but what is eternal. I never take my eyes off of you night or day : how can you forget me so often T " In exhorting her sisters to be faithful in corresponding to the grace of God and to act with purity of intention, she would say, " Not a single grace is given you but was bought with the blood of Jesus, your compassionate Saviour. Not ono grace is given but might by your fidelity to it become for you an eternal treasure. Not one grace is given you but you must give an account of it in your hour of death and judgment. ... St. Augustin says, Our least action, when done for God, is precious to him, while the greatest action! 324 THE LIFE Of without this pure intention are worthless and contemptible in his eyes. With what a lively, cheerful heart we go to work, even when the thing we are to do displeases poor nature, if only grace cries out courageously, ' It is all for you, my God !' You know every step we take all day long is a step of nature or a step of grace ; or, as our blessed St. Francis de Sales says, we are always obeying our bad Mary or our good Mary; our bad Mary, who is the daughter of Eve, or our good Mary, daughter of the Blessed Virgin, who solicits us to follow her dear Mother's holy example and do every thing for the glory of God. And think how great is our blindness and misery when, for want of directing our intentions to this end, we lose the merit of all we do, in- stead of gathering up heavenly treasures and weaving our bright crown for eternity. Alas ! says St. Augustin, why, for the short time we have to live, are we not busy in gain- ing our rewards ? When so rich a harvest is before us, why do we not gather it ? All is in our hands, if we will but use it We suffer and toil through our days ; and after all our labor, instead of coming before God loaded with merits, we will stand empty-handed in his presence, and have nothing to offer but our useless regrets and bitter remorse, when both will be unavailing. You have been many times told that to avoid this sad evil we must take care not to do our actions as through custom and without motive ; not to do them through vanity or pride; not to do them through human re- spect or self-love, which tries to poison all we do. " The rule given us for securing the heavenly practice of pure intention is to be careful of our morning offering, which seals the whole day : since Fe'ne'lon says, that after it is made fully and sincerely, if we should forget to renew it from hour to hour, (as good souls commonly do,) and not re- tract it by any act of our will, (if no mortal sin comes in the way,) our first good offering secures all we do for the day. MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 825 What a comfort that is ! Yet do not neglect to renew your offering from time to time, when you can think of it, espe- cially our principal actions, uniting them to those of our dear Saviour, and reviewing them now and then ; for it often happens that we begin well, but suffer many miries of na- ture to slip in before we finish." After stating the fundamental principles of a spiritual Life, she explains the difficulties that stand in the way of it. " You wish so much to be good and to please our dear Lord, that you will not be tired if I tell you what the spiritual guide says of the obstacles to our interior life. The first is, the little knowledge we have of ourselves and of our faults; for, as by an interior life we wish to be united to our Lord, a pure heart must be prepared, in which He may reign as in his own kingdom. Self-love does not like to hear it, but our heart is very corrupt, and we must do continual violence to our bad nature to keep it in order. Our love of God i& always opposed by our self-love ; our love of one another by the miserable pride and pretension which creates jealousy, rash judgment, and the pitiful dislikes and impatience which so often trouble us and wound charity. Curiosity, too, which keeps us engaged in what is doing and saying, brings home many a foolish companion for our thoughts, to break the silence and peace our Lord desires to find in us. Who that reflect on their own nature can doubt of its corruption and misery ? You know how unwilling we are to deny ourselves, how unwilling to be reproved or contradicted, how trifling a thing will make us sad, how we delight to be commended, while, with a sort of natural cruelty, we see blame and fault in others which we are scarcely willing to excuse. How should we livo an interior life until some of our natural rub- bish is removed? how walk valiantly with our Saviour, drag- ging our foolish attachments after us, and ready to faint if the least weight of his cross presses on us ? The less sensible 28 326 THE LIFE or we are of our misery the greater our evil is, for an iinmor- tified soul cannot bear to hear the truth nor to be reproved even for its evident faults ; so it remains buried in its dark- ness, and the enemy tries to double its blindness, while, sick and weak, it scarcely struggles against its imperfections, much less thinks of entering the sanctuary of an interior life. How is it that many of us keep the rule as to the lettei of it, and also look pious enough? there is no want of good- will nor idleness indulged ; and in a house where it would seem so easy to become saints, you would say, What is the matter? why are we not saints? why is there so little progress in perfection, or rather, why are so many tepid, heavy, discouraged, and going along more like slaves in a workhouse than children in their own home and the house of their Father ? Why ? Because we do not watch over our interior, do not watch the impulse of nature and grace in our actions, nor avoid the occasions of the habitual faults we live in, when it is in our power, or keep a good guard on ourselves when it is not. Frequent indulgence of useless thoughts, inconsiderate words, expressions of natural feel- ing, and changes of temper, all stand at variance with our sweet interior life, and stop the operations of grace, too often, indeed, even to grieving the Divine Spirit and send- ing him away. One immortified passion, a single bad habit not corrected, a natural attachment, though innocent as to appearances, will stand like a big stone at the door of our heart, and prevent us for whole years from advancing in the kingdom of our Lord. For how can such imperfection and miseries produce a spiritual harvest, any more than a laborer, throwing his grain in hard and dry earth covered with thorns and weeds, could expect to reap his produce ? Will you, too, shut your heart to grace ? You can make so fair a beginning now; if you only go to work courageously, you will so soon gather the fruits of your care; but if you MBS. E. A. 8ETON. 827 do not, your soul, unfaithful to its beautiful grace, will grow weaker and weaker, and drag life along like a sad slavery, instead of a prelude to the joys of eternity, which it really should be in our blessed condition, when our very pains and trials are but gems for our crown, if we use them in the beautiful spirit of our rule. One particular point you must attend to : as soon as you have committed a fault, make your quick act of contrition for it, for fear it draw you into an- other, as one weight pulls another after it. Make your sin- cere acts of contrition by a loving and sorrowful turn of your heart to our dear Saviour; and then, instead of ponder- ing on the fault, try to think no more about it, only to guard against repeating it, or to say Paters and Aves in penance for it while you work. Every day must bring its trials : why, then, should we be troubled and surprised ? Young people especially should fight cheerfully, since our Lord has so kindly called you in the morning of your days, and not exposed you to the anguish and remorse we feel after BO many years of sin. It moves my very soul to see you young ones taken and sheltered by our dear Lord ; and yet you often look ungrateful. . . . Can you expect to go to heaven for nothing ? Did not our dear Saviour track the whole way to it with his tears and blood? and yet you start at every little pain ! . . . The gate of heaven is very low; the humble only can enter it ; the path to it is very narrow, and beset with our bad habits, our evil inclinations and deceiving pas- sions ; they all unite together to draw us aside, and, unless we are always on the watch, we soon go astray. . . . You think it very hard to lead a life of such restraint, unless you keep your eye of faith always open. Perseverance is a great grace. To go on gaining and advancing every day, we must be resolute, and bear and suffer what our blessed fore- lunners did. Which of them gained heaven without a com- bat ? Which way did they get there, and by what road t S28 THE LIFE Of Some of them came out of caves and deserts in which tLj had lived buried from the world and the enemies of God ; others from prisons and dungeons glorious confessors of the faith ; others covered with their blood, which they shed for it. We are inheritors of this faith, but are not tried aa they were. What are our real trials ? By what name shall we call them? One cuts herself out a cross of pride, another of causeless discontent, another of restless impatience or peevish fretfulness ; but is the whole any better than chil- dren's play, if looked at with the common eye cf reason, much more the pure eye of faith ? Yet we know certainly that our God calls us to a holy life, that he gives us every grace, every abundant grace ; and, though we are so weak of ourselves, this grace is able to carry us through every ob- stacle and difficulty; but we want courage to keep the con- tinual watch over nature, and therefore, year after year, with our thousand graces, multiplied resolutions, and fair pro- mises, we run around in a circle of miseries and imperfec- tions, and, after a long time in the service of God, come nearly to the point from whence we set out, and perhaps with even less ardor for penance and mortification than when we began our consecration to him. You are now in your first set-out : be above the vain fears of nature and ef- forts of your enemy. You are children of eternity : youi immortal crown awaits you, and the best of Fathers wait* there to reward your duty and love. You may sow here in- deed in tears, but you may be sure there to reap in joy." These heavenly maxims, which Mother Seton delivered U her spiritual daughters as the means of conducting them to the heights of Christian perfection, were forcibly inculcated by her example. Obedience to the rule, conformity to the will of God, renunciation of self, opposition to nature, fide- lity to every grace, all this was clearly vbible in her actions. She strictly observed the regulations of the house, and waa MRS. E. A. SETON. incessantly occupied in the duties of her situation, yet always calm, self-possessed, even-tempered, and her soul ap- parently collected in God. It was a favorite practice with her to turn to good account all the little pains of body and mind which every day brought forth. She was remarkable for her love of poverty and mortification of the senses. Her clothing, furniture, even the paper and pens which she used, indicated this spirit of self-denial. Paper of fine quality she denied herself, always preferring that of the coarsest and cheapest description. Her pens were the refuse of the class-rooms. One day a sister having observed to her that her pens were nothing but stumps, she replied, smilingly, " Well, my dear one, that is to atone for your waste of pens." This remark, though made in a gay and playful manner, contained a lesson. Her mortification was not less con- spicuous. Though her health was delicate and her stomach naturally weak, she would have no other fare than that of the community, and if any thing were prepared especially for her she would decline it, saying that she owed an ex- ample to others, and that what she eat could not injure her if taken in small quantity. Particularly assiduous herself in frequenting the holy communion, she endeavored to in- spire her community with the same sentiments of lively faith, love, and devotion, which glowed in her own bosom. She once gave a gentle but keen reprimand to a young sis- ter who had omitted, on a communion-day, to approach the holy table. Meeting her after mass and looking her stead- fastly in the face, she asked, " Why, my dear child, did you not come to our Lord for your recompense this morning ?" " Mother," replied the sister, " I felt a little weak, and took cup of coffee before mass." "Ah, my dear child," re- joined Mother Seton, " how could you sell your God for a miserable cup of coffee ?" The sick were special objects of ter care and attention She visited them twice every day, 28* 830 THE LIFE Of procuring for them all the helps and comforts in her power When not able, in consequence of indisposition, to see them herself, she sent her assistant, through whom she made every inquiry respecting their situation. She would often say that the sick were the blessing of the house, intimating to her spiritual daughters the many occasions of virtue and merit which the infirmities of nature present when viewed in the light of faith, and displaying that example of tender and compassionate care which they would be called upon, at some future day, to exercise in behalf of their suffering fellow-creatures. (20) Enlightened and led by such a guide, St. Joseph's com- munity advanced rapidly in the ways of Christian perfection, and acquired a character which made it an object of univer- sal admiration. It was an asylum of virtue, happiness, and peace. The world, with its harassing cares and dangerous allurements, found no admittance within its hallowed pre- cincts. There God was loved, fraternal charity flourished, the maxims of the gospel reigned supreme, and the fruits of piety, which alone give true contentment to the soul, were gathered in the utmost profusion. Such was St. Joseph's Valley, justly deserving the name bestowed upon it by a dis- tinguished clergyman of that day, " a paradise upon earth," for here bloomed in all their loveliness the flowers of hea- venly virtue. During the year following the establishment of the novi- tiate, several of the sisters were sailed to their reward, leav- ing behind them a vivid recollection of their eminent virtues Sister Eleanor Thompson, who died on the 28th of Novem her, 1813, had been one of the first to enter the community at Emmettsburg. Her health being very feeble, she was an almost constant sufferer; but she edified all around her bj her patience, meekness, and humility, united with great sim- plicity of manners and a solid and unaffected piety. Her MRS. . A. 8ETON 831 singular purity of soul justified the belief that she had never forfeited her baptismal innocence. Six weeks after, (January 14, 1814,) the institution witnessed the death of Sister Bene- dicta Corish, who in the brief space of nine months was a pupil, a novice, a professed sister, and an inhabitant of eter- nity. Her departure from life at the early age of seventeen, strengthened with all the consolations of faith, led Mother Sston to call her " a true child of benediction;" and such, in- deed, did she deserve to be considered ; for she had displayed a most beautiful example to her companions, and always ap- proached the holy communion as if for the last time, and with the sentiments of the prodigal child, except on two oc- casions, when she went to the holy table more in the spirit of Mary when she said to the angel, " Behold the handmaid of the Lord !" On the 1st of December, the same year, Sister Agnes Duffy exchanged the trials of this world for the recom- pense of the just. She was remarkable for meekness and amiability, which shone conspicuous in her countenance and actions. In a few weeks the community was deprived of another member, whose eminent talents and virtues caused her loss to be deeply felt. Sister Catharine Mullen had be- come an associate of Mother Seton before the removal of the sisterhood from Baltimore. From her earliest years she had given her heart to God, who rewarded her fidelity with the grace of a religious vocation. Though her constitution was very delicate, she filled several important offices at the sisterhood. At the first election in 1812, she was appointed treasurer, and as such held a place in the council, for the duties of which she was particularly qualified. The follow- ing year, a novitiate having been opened, she was charged with the important duty of instilling into the candidates for the sisterhood the spirit of their sacred calling. No mem- ber of the house could have performed this office with greater advantage to religion. She was little acquainted with the 332 THE LIFE 0* wisdom of the world, but, well versed in the science of the saints, she was eminently fitted to lead souls in the way to perfection. Zeal for the common good, humility with a total disregard of self, a spirit of mortification and an exact observance of rule, were the distinguishing traits in the vir- tue of Sister Catharine. One of her practices was to inspire others with a contempt of her person. She had very delicate and well-formed hands, which were much admired by the young ladies of the school. One day, perceiving that her hands had attracted attention, she stained them with walnut- juice, in order to give them an unsightly appearance. Such was her tender devotion to the sacred infancy of our Lord that she could not name the Divine Infant without being affected to tears. Gifted with a particular talent for the in- struction of young persons, she took great delight in teaching the children of the village and the boarders of the academy, in preparing them for their first communion, and pointing out to them afterward the means of persevering in the love and service of God. It seemed as if the Almighty wished to manifest a special favor toward his faithful spouse, even in this world; for bodily sufferings were never wanting, par ticularly during the last two years of her life, which she ter- minated, in the most fervent sentiments, on the festival of Christmas, a day peculiarly cherished by her, it being de- voted to the commemoration of the temporal birth and infancy of the Word made flesh. Early in the morning of that day she had the happiness of being united to the Divine Infant in the sacrament of his love, having been conveyed to the chapel in an arm-chair; but, her last moments rapidly ap- proaching, she had the privilege of again receiving him in the holy Viaticum, and before midnight her spirit had *aken its flight to enjoy, says Mother Seton, "a third communion t the foot of the throne above." While some among the sisters of St. Joseph were thuj MRS. . A. 8ETON. 833 called to their heavenly reward, others were destined in the designs of Providence to extend the lahors of the institute on earth, and to diffuse in the midst of populous cities the blessings of that charity which burned with so much fervor in the mother-house. Oftentimes, when enjoying their recreation in some shady grove or on the banks of the pleasant stream that flowed by the institution, had the sisters conversed together on the future that was in store for the society On these occasions, surrounding their venerated superior, they would speak their sentiments freely, each one expressing her own ideas on the subject. Some wondered if the Almighty would ever enable them to extend their sphere of usefulness; others said, "Here we are buried in the midst of woods and valleys : nobody knows what we are doing, and truly the world forgets us." One day, amid the various speculations that were put forth, a young, playful sister, who had been listening in silence to the remarks of the others, cried out, " My dear children, don't grieve so much; depend upon it, the valley, quiet as it is, will give such a roar one day that the noise will sound over all Ame- rica Don't you remember what was said of the silence of St. Thomas Aquinas?" Mother Seton was highly amused at the gravity of this young prophetess, while many observed that the prediction would not be accomplished in their time The period of its fulfilment, however, had now arrived. Since the year 1797, a charitable effort had been made, by an association of persons in Philadelphia, for the main- tenance of the children, male and female, whose parents had f-illen victims to the yellow fever. These orphans were at first boarded with a suitable person, but were subsequently removed to a house rented for the purpose, adjoining the church of Holy Trinity where they were placed under the charge of a matron. From its commencement this good work had to c^nteud with many difficulties. To the Rer 881 THE LIFE OF Michael Hurley, who had become pastor of St. A-ugustin's Church in 1807, it was much indebted for his indefatigable exertions in its behalf. Mr. Cornelius Tiers also deserves to be mentioned in this connection for the generous and op- portune aid which he rendered to the institution.* The trustees of Trinity Church were the managers of the asylum, and, with a view to its better organization, they applied in 1814, through the Rev. Mr. Hurley, to procure the servicei of the Sisters of Charity. Notwithstanding the difficulties of the times, f the government at St. Joseph's readily acceded to their request. Mother Seton was filled with joy and gratitude at the opportunity of serving the poor orphans. Three sisters were at once appointed for the mission at Philadelphia, of which Sister Rose White was to have the superior charge, under the title of Sister-servant. On hear- ing that she had been selected to preside over the asylum, her humility was greatly alarmed, and she wrote to Arch- bishop Carroll, expressing to him her fears lest the good work should suffer from her want of talent and virtue. Hei sentiments deserve to be recorded : " MOST REVEREND AND DEAR FATHER : " I think I can see your surprise when you heard of the choice made to send poor Rose to Philadelphia, knowing so well as you do how little capacity I have for any good and my little judgment for managing, and how much may b epoiiod by my being sent as sister-servant to any city ; but God's will be done 1 and pray, my dear Father, that 1 may prove no obstacle to the good in view nor a scandal to the * The particulars regarding the first beginnings of this asylum ban been taken from an article in the Catholic Herald of Philadelphia, Sep- tember 30, 1852.W t W*r was now carried on between the United States and Great Britain. MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 335 community. I am as one stupid and all surprised ; I know nothing, and can see nothing but my ignorance and weak- ness, which is ever before me. If any good is done, it will be God alone, who will and can do it ; as for me, I know nothing but sin, and an unhappy disposition of impatience, which has caused myself and others much pain in thin blessed family, where I have often rendered myself an un- worthy member of it." Such was the true spirit in which she prepared herself to obtain the blessing of Heaven upon her charitable labors; for God resists the proud and gives his grace to the humble, and never fails to crown with success the efforts of those who rely solely upon his assistance. Having made the necessary preparations, the sisters set out upon their jour- ney on the 20th of September, 1814, and travelled in a hired conveyance by land, as it was the time of the embargo, when the Chesapeake Bay was infested with the hostile fleet of the British, and packet navigation was unsafe. For the purpose of saving expense, they were directed, so far as circumstances would permit, to ask hospitality on the way ; and they ex- perienced much kindness from the Catholic families that en- tertained them. On arriving at the asylum in Philadel- phia, the sisters immediately repaired to the church adjoin- ing it, to offer their homage of adoration and gratitude ; aftei which they took lodgings at the residence of a friend, where they remained for several days, the asylum being still occu- pied by the matron, who also owned the furniture of the house. The requisite arrangements having been made, thej took possession of the institution on the 6th of October, hay- ing thirteen children, boys and girls, under their care.* But * The sisters did not approve of receiving boys and girls into the lame asylum ; but the inconvenience was at first tolerated, owing to th difficulty of placing them in separate establishment*, which was effected t a subsequent period. 330 THE LIFE Of such was the condition of the asylum that it afforded ample work for the zeal of the good sisters. The children were in a ragged state, with scarcely a change of clothing, and the small number of beds in the house was not half sufficient for their proper accommodation. Nor was the prospect of meet- ing the wants of the establishment very cheering. Four thousand dollars were still due upon the house ; the sum al- lowed by the managers for the support of the asylum was limited to six hundred ; and the price of provisions, in conse- quence of the difficulties with Great Britain, was remarkably high. A society of ladies had been formed to aid the funds of the asylum, and by this means some portion of the ex- pense was paid j but the sisters were disposed to rely chiefly upon their economical management and their influence with the public, in order to defray the expenses of the institution from the charities which they solicited. Hence, they suf- fered many privations in the beginning, procuring for them- selves and the children the bare necessaries of life. For three months they ate no bread whatever at their principal meal, but used potatoes, which during the first year were their chief subsistence. Their coffee, made of corn, was taken without sugar, and the fuel for their fire was gathered from the tanyards. As soon as their wants became gene- rally known, many persons presented themselves as friends of the institution. One day, the sisters being too much occu- pied at home, an orphan was despatched to the market with twelve and a half cents, all the money in the house, to :uy a shin of beef. A few hours after, the child returned to the asylum with a large piece of meat, her twelve and a Lalf cents, and fifty cents more, telling the sisters that an old market-woman, finding that she was one of the orphans, had given her the money and meat, and authorized them to call upon her for assistance whenever they were in want. This old woman became a generous friend of the institution. By MRS. A. 6ETON. 337 the benevolence of herself and others it gradually acquired ampler resources, and was enabled to maintain under ita charitable roof an increasing number of orphans. The spirit of disinterestedness displayed by the sisters, and their self- denying devotion to the care of the helpless and forlorn, made a deep impression upon those who witnessed their charitable labors, and won for the institution the sympathy and aid of a numerous circle. It was also a proud day for the Catholics of Philadelphia when they could point to St. Joseph's Asylum as an illustration of that eminent virtue for which the true Church alone is distinguished, which leads her children to sacrifice all the comforts of life for the love of Christ and the cause of suffering humanity. "When 1 contrast the amiable and devout conduct of our sisters with that of worldlings," writes a lady of that place, "I love reli- gion and our Lord tenfold more. They are the pride of our city and the ornament of our religion : they are loved by every one." Thus did the first institution of the Sisters of Charity abroad commence under many difficulties, which, however, soon disappeared by the effect of a wise administra- tion and of the edifying zeal with which they performed the duties of their charge. In the course of three years the house was free from debt and gave promise of increasing prosperity. From this humble beginning, which Mother Seton used to call the " little mustard-seed," has arisen in the course of time a magnificent institution, which now graces the city of Philadelphia and exhibits the exercise of the noblest charity on the most extensive scale.* About this time, the Rev. Mr. David, who had esta- blished a society of Sisters of Charity in Kentucky, conceived ihe project of incorporating them with the society at Em- * St. Joseph's Female Asylum. The bojs were subsequently trans- ferred to a separate asylum, St. John's. 29 W 338 THE LIFE O? mettsburg. The institution in Kentucky had been com- menced toward the end of the year 1812. "Besides aspi- ring to the practice of religious perfection, by fulfilling the three ordinary vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the members of the sisterhood were to devote their lives to such works of mercy, both corporeal and spiritual, in behalf of the neighbor, as might come within their reach; and also to apply themselves to the education of young persons of their own sex in all the branches of female instruction. To these occupations they were to add the instruction of poor chil- dren and servants in the catechism, and the visiting of the sick, without distinction of creed, ae far as might be com- patible with the other duties of their institution."* This society, as is commonly the case with institutions of a similar nature, had an humble beginning, but soon increased in num- ber, and prospered beyond the most sanguine expectations of its holy founder. " The sisters edified all by their piety and laborious life " For two years they observed a provi- sional rule which had been drawn up by Father David ; but it was at length determined that they should adopt the consti- tutions of the Daughters of Charity founded by St. Vincent of Paul. At the same time they chose a religious uniform, consisting of a black habit and cape, and of a cap which was at first black, but was afterward exchanged for one of white.f Such was the commencement of that excellent so- ciety whose members are known under the title of Sisters of Charity of Nazareth and have their mother-house in th vicinity of Bardstown. By their pious labors they have ren- dered and still render to religion and society the most im- * Sketches of Kentucky, by the Very Rev. Dr. Spalding, p. 229. f Sketches of Kentucky. In this valuable work the reader will find detailed account of the origin and progress of the Sisters of Nazareth, p. 229 et seq. MBS. E. A. SETON. 339 portant services, by the various educational and charitable establishments under their charge. After the society had adopted the rules observed by the spiritual daughters of St. Vincent of Paul, Father David aonceived the idea of uniting it with the institution at Em- mettsburg, which was governed by the same constitutions, though distinguished by a somewhat different uniform. To effect his purpose, he addressed several letters on the sub- ject to the Rev. Mr. Dubois, superior of the sisters of St. Joseph, who assented to the proposal, but on conditions which were considered too onercus by Father David. The latter desired a separate novitiate to be established in Ken- tucky, and also that the superior should have the title of Mother, as given to the head-sister at St. Joseph's. To the latter requirement, Mr. Dubois made an absolute objection, and the former he was willing to accept only on condition that it could be justified by a precedent among the Daughters of Charity in France. He also demanded that the branch in Kentucky should not dinit a greater number of members than the bishop of the diocese would engage to support, until a security for their maintenance had been otherwise provided. These views on one side and the other gave rise to difficulties which could not be satisfactorily adjusted, and thus caused the failure of the negotiation. The event, how- ever, showed that, although organized under separate govern- ments, the two societies could pursue their labor of love with a perfect union of hearts, and by the divine blessing co- operate most successfully in the accomplishment of the same glorious object. In the institution over which Mother Seton presided, she wag the guiding spirit of the literary as well as of the reli- gious department. In the early days of the academy she herself took charge of the highest class among the pupils; but when she hud the aid of more numerous instructors sh 340 THE LIFE OF resigned most of her scholastic duties to other hands. Every day she visited the class-rooms, to show the interest which she felt in the improvement of the pupils, to speak a few words of encouragement and edification, and to give such directions as circumstances might require. Nothing but sickness prevented her from manifesting this mark of her golicitude for the children confided to her care. On one occasion, when confined to her room, she observed to the sister who had the principal care of the boarders : " I feel uneasy sometimes that I cannot take my daily walk and see the dear girls; yet I console myself with the thought of your being there, for you have a mother's heart." She felt all the importance and responsibility of her station as the guide and instructress of female youth, and it was her con- tinual effort, by word and example, as well as by constant vigilance, to promote the moral and physical welfare of all under her charge. The young ladies of the school she re- garded as a sacred trust, committed to her by Divine Provi- dence, and to be cultivated with a solicitude similar to that which the Almighty himself evinces for his creatures. Her direction to the sisters who had the particular care of them was, " Be to them as our guardian angels are to us." Such was the character which she herself exhibited in their re- gard; watching over them with the most unremitting atten- tion, and forming them, by her actions and instructions, to the practice of the moral and social virtues. When she ap- peared before them, they beheld in her a lady who had adorned the most polished circles of life, and whose manners and disposition they might justly strive to imitate, to be- come at a future day the ornaments of society. In her they beheld a woman who had traversed the various relations of daughter, wife, and mother, wifl the highept honor to her- self, and whose lessons were the fruit of reflection matured by experience. J3ut ; abov n al, they saw in her the a.xxwr MBS E A. 8ETON. 841 pushed Christian, whose warmest aspirations were for heaven and for the salvation of souls; who endeavored by a uniform charity and sweetness of manner to win all to the love and service of God. Hence the presence of Mother Seton was hailed with pleasure by her pupils. On her visit to the classes every eye beamed a welcome; for it was the signal that their best friend and true mother had come among them. To excite the emulation of the pupils, the most effectual means were employed, but chiefly those which ap- pealed to their sense of honor and obligation. Weekly re- ports, regarding their diligence in study and their deport- ment, were read aloud in the refectory, in presence of the whole community; and to such as had distinguished them- selves by their application and good conduct, honorable tes- timonials were awarded at the end of the scholastic year. The health of the young ladies was a special object of Mo- ther Seton's vigilance. She took care that they were sup- plied with a wholesome and abundant diet, and that the hours of study were interrupted by proper intervals of re- creation, during which they indulged in a variety of healthy amusements. Frequently they made excursions to the neighboring mountain, forming a pic-nic party, or engaging in other diversions equally profitable and delightful. Upon the sick pupils Mother Seton bestowed the most watchful attention. Every comfort was provided for them that the house could afford, and, that nothing might be omitted in this respect, she never failed, when the importance of the case seemed to require it, to give timely notice to parents of their children's indisposition. It was her custom also to keep them duly informed in regard to the proficiency of their daughters, and occasionally to request their co-operation in the correction of their faults, when the ordinary methods of doing this had proved ineffectual. In general, however, she thought it more wise not to acquaint parents with the fail- 29* 842 THE LIFE OF' ings of their children, knowing how peculiarly sensitiv* Americans are on this point. According to her view, where the fault is not to he corrected immediately by the parents, but rather by advice and education, it is best not to inform them of it, as they would consider it a reflection on them- selves; and although, if you referred the matter to them, they would apparently acquiesce in what you say, in their heart they would extenuate the fault, whatever it might fee, excusing to their children what they condemn to their supe- riors, and thus rendering fruitless any subsequent efforts for their improvement. In this, as well as in all other matters appertaining to the interest and happiness of those under her charge, Mother Seton pursued that course which ap- peared best calculated to promote their welfare and at the same time to save their parents unnecessary pain and anx- iety. Entering fully into the feelings of the parental heart, she knew what they could bear and what it was expedient for them to receive, and with the greatest delicacy did she regulate her communications to the parents, always endea- voring to impart the word of comfort and gratification, and never withholding what it was necessary for them to know. On one occasion, writing to a person who had a daughter at St. Joseph's, she says, "I have continually deferred an- swering your obliging letter, always hoping to say something consoling to the heart of a parent, and unable to force my- self to do the contrary; and now with pleasure can assure you that your dear daughter has shown a considerable per- severance in her good determinations for some time past," r, the back, the side-door which will lead her in the jhapel, and all the windows up and down, will open at her approach." The generosity of Mother Seton's nature was exhibited in her relations with every class of persons. The domestics >f the institution found in her one who knew how to allevi- *te the trials of their situation by a true sympathy and kind- ness, while the poor possessed in her a benefactress whose benevolence was unbounded and never tired of well-dcing 34 898 THE LIFE OF In the early days of St. Joseph's sisterhood, circumstance* did not permit the exercise of that munificent charity which now distinguishes that excellent society; but Mother Seton laid its foundations broad and deep in the love of the poor. She sowed the good seed which is now bearing fruit in abundance. Her heart was the home of charity, while her appeals to others in behalf of suffering humanity were irre- sistible. Keturning from the Mountain church one evening in winter, when the weather was excessively cold, she passed a miserable hut, at the door of which stood four or five little children, almost perishing for the want of food and clothing. Her charity was at once enlisted for their relief. Early the next morning she entered the hall where the young ladies were engaged at study, and with tearful eyes she described the wretchedness of those suffering members of Jesus Christ. She depicted their situation with so much feeling that every pupil made a cheerful offering of pocket-money and clothing for their benefit. Quickly, too, was the needle plied by many busy little hands, and before night Mother Seton, accom- panied by two of the sisters, repaired to the abode of misery, washed and dressed the children, and administered to the wants of the parents. On her return home, she did not fail to congratulate her pupils on the generous part they had taken in procuring the happiness of a poor family, adding, "Oh, my children, how sweet will be your repose to-night!" Full of kindness and charity to her neighbor, Mother Seton was rigid and austere to herself. We have already noticed the spirit of self-denial which she exhibited by the mortification of her senses. The renunciation of self wae plainly visible in the poverty of her dress, her furniture, and other articles which she used; in her abstemiousness at meals, and in the severe observance of rules. She rose genemlly with the community, at four o'clock, and, repairing to the choir, she there knelt erect, never sitting or leaning on MRS. E. A. fiETON. 399 any thing, and remained in this posture till after the morn- ing prayers and meditation, which lasted an hour. But her chief aim was to practise that interior abnegation which ia at once the principle and end of all exterior virtue, and whicli consists in the crucifixion of corrupt nature and its subjugation under the dominion of faith. This is the cross which she resolutely took up after the example of her Divine Master, striving always to resist and overcome the views and desires of self, and follow the suggestions of grace. Nor did she find it an easy task to curb her will to the order of Providence, to walk faithfully and with simplicity in the path of obedience, and accept with peaceful resignation the numerous trials which it presented Frequent and painful were the struggles she had to endure in combating the sug- gestions of her own mind relative to the line of conduct which her sanctification, the happiness of her children, and the welfare of St. Joseph's sisterhood, seemed to require. The Almighty, who visited her with these interior troubles for the purification of her heart and the increase of her heavenly reward, permitted her to experience an extraordi- nary dryness in her spiritual duties, and to conceive an al- most invincible repugnance to the directions of her superiors. She thus depicts her situation, in a letter to a clergyman : " Writing on a table opposite the door of the chapel, looking at the tabernacle, the soul appeals to Him, if this is not a daily martyrdom. I love and live, and love and live in a state of separation indescribable. My being and existence, it is true, are real, because I meditate, pray, commune, con- duct the community, &c., and all this with regularity, resig- nation, and singleness of heart; but yet this is not I; it is a sort of machinery no doubt acceptable to the compas- sionate Father; but it is a different being from that in which the soul acts. In meditation, prayer, communion, I find no sod; in the beings around me, dearly as I love 400 THE LIFE 0V them, I fiud no soul; in that tabernacle I know he is, but I see not. feel not; a thousand deaths might hang over me to compel me to deny his presence there, and I would em- brace them all rather than deny it an instant; yet it seemt that He is not there for me; and yesterday, while for a few moments I felt his presence, it was only to make me know that hell was gaping under me and how awful his judgment would be." On another occasion she represents herself re- peating, " I am atom ! you are God ! misery all my plea ! so few saved! If we are lost, are you less justified? the patience so long waiting, less adorable ? And the soul, bury- ing itself in the chaos of mystery, always rested in stupidity within; but without played with children, amused with the sisters, yielding to all minutiae, attentive to all necessities, with the liberty with which a philosopher suffered and en- dured, lending the machine for the beauty of order ; not one spark of grace can the soul discern in it all, but rather a continuation of the original fault, of desire to do, to be loved, to please! and, so far from the simplicity of grace which would turn every instant to gold, it felt ashamed when re- turned to the tabernacle, as if it had played the fool, or acted like those women who try to please company and show all their ill-humors at home. . . . Yet it might be a grace, for as often he saw it was no more in my choice to hinder these evaporations than to stop the giddiness of my head in a fever; and they (the community) are so loving, so fixed on Mother's every look, clouds or sunshine, so depending, sometimes 1 would shudder at the danger of such a situation, if it was not clear as light that it is a part of the materials he takes for his work; and so little did he prepare the composition that he knows, if nature was listened to, I would take a blis- ter, a scourging, any bodily pain, with a real delight, rather than speak to a human being that heavy sloth which, hating exertion, would be willing to be an animal and die like MRS. E. A. 8KTON. 401 brute in unconsciousness ! Oh, my Father, all in my power is to abandon and adore. How good he is to let me do that I" In this perplexing state, the thought would often occur to her that she was another Jonas, who ought to be cast out for the safety of those around her. At one time, tortured with a sense of her responsibility in the station she occupied, shs would endeavor to devise some means of escaping from it; at another, fearful lest the work of God snould fail through her fault, she would resolve to bear up against every difficulty. Thus was her mind harassed by alternate and opposite reflections, which she forcibly and beautifully de- scribes in the following extract from a letter to a priest. "I see myself now in the soul as once in the body fifteen years ago, when two maladies at once rendered all the efforts of physicians fruitless. Whatever they attempted to do for the relief of one complaint was sure to increase the other. My father, who was himself an eminent physician, sent all away, and insisted only on continued use of the warm bath, which really cured me ; and no doubt you will spiritually do as he did naturally, and insist on the piscina of penance, though now for the soul, as then for the body, it is hard to get iu and out." The remedy to which Mother Seton here alludes was not unprofitably applied. The sacraments were the sup- port of her weakness, and a source of heavenly light amid these passing clouds, inspiring her with that humble submis- sion to the dispensations of Providence which brings peace and comfort to the heart. "It is not the soul that is guilty of all this," she would say in the midst of her sufferings; "the evil spirit is most active, it is true, but the good :ne aits in anguish at the foot of the cross, looking over all this desolation, adoring, subjecting, abandoning all to him, seeing only him, annihilating itself and all creatures before him, laying amen to the resounding alleluias, and willing any mo* 34 2 A 402 THE LIFE Of ment to go into tell itself, rather than add one more offence to the mountain it has laid already upon him." The interior aridity which thus desolated her soul was of little moment compared with the serious temptations she experienced against the line of obedience. Such was the confusion that at times clouded her mind on this point, arising partly from an inexpressible aversion for the direc- tions of her immediate superior, and partly from the diffi- culties attending the organization of her infant community, that it required a most powerful grace from above to keep her in the path of duty. However insupportable such a state must have been for one who was accustomed to be ruled by no other sentiment than love, and to be drawn by the ties of divine charity to every living being, Mother Seton bore it with an humble submission to the order of Provi- dence, as the cross to be shared with her heavenly Master, and destined by him to purify her heart, to break down that self which is the great obstacle to his perfect dominion in the soul. While difficulties and contradictions without, and disgust and torpor within, threatened to overwhelm her spirit, she rose upon the wings of faith to consider the glo- rious end of this passing tribulation. " I am sick, but not dying; troubled on every side, but not distressed; per- plexed, but not despairing ; afflicted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed; knowing the affliction of this life is but for a moment, while the glory in the life to come will be eternal." How she struggled to obtain the victory in this conflict between nature and grace, may be judged from some of her letters to her clerical friends. " I have had a great many very hard trials since you were here," she writes to Archbishop Carroll, "but you of course will congratulate me on them, as this fire of tribulation is no doubt meant to consume the many imperfections and bad dispositions out Lord finds m me. Indeed, it has at times burnt so deep. MRS. E. A. 8 ETON. 408 that the anguish could not be concealed ; but by degrees custom reconciles pain itself, and I determine, dry and hard as my daily bread is, to take it with as good a grace as pos- sible. When I carry it before our Lord sometimes, h makes me laugh at myself, and asks me what other kind 1 wouid choose in the valley of tears than that which himself and all his followers made use of." Strongly pressed by temptations against obedience, she was one day ascending the mountain early in the morning, and her little dog tried to follow her. "To drive him back, as he resisted my com- mand," she writes, " I took a stick to threaten. What did the little animal but crouch under the stick and lick the end of it ? The stick not moving, he drew a little nearer and nearer, till he reached the feet of his mistress, which he licked with a transport of joy and affection. The poor mistress was so touched by the lesson, she threw down the stick, took the faithful creature in her arms, covered it with kisses and the sweetest tears she had shed for many weeks. ' Yes, Adored,' she said, ' I too will kiss the stick which is lifted to crush me, will wind round the feet which would trample up- on me;' and, opening my prayer-book, the first lines I met were the resolutions of a soul determining on a total aban- donment, and saying, among other things, ' I will obey the will of those who are the most distasteful and displeasing to me, and put myself under the feet of everybody.' " The happy fruits of this self-abnegation were ever present to her mind, as incentives to the practice of obedience. "In the hour of manifestation," she says to her former director, " when all this cross-working will be explained, we will find that in this period of our poor life we are most ripe for the business for which we were sent. While the ploughers go over us, then we are safe. No fears of pleasing ourselves, no danger of mistaking God's will. No ; if I thought that by investigation and an appeal to superior authority I would 404 THE LIFE Ot be to-morrow released from this cloud of darkness, yet 1 woul I not take one step. And you, my dear master and captain in the way of the cross, you know that my only safe way (I speak for salvation) is to remain quite still with Magdalen. You well know that He who works my fate has no need of any other help from me but a good will to do his will and an entire abandonment to his good providence. Let them plough, let them grind: so much the better; the grain will be the sooner prepared for its owner ; whereas, should I step forward and take my own cause in hand, the Father of the widow and the orphan would say that I distrust him. . . . Shall we make schemes and plans of human happiness, which must be so uncertain in obtaining, and if obtained hush death ! eternity ! Oh, my father, sursum corda we know better than to be cheated by such attractions. No; we will offer the hourly sacrifice, and drink our cup to the last drop, and we when least expecting it will enter into our rest." Thus did the severe trials which Mother Seton had to endure become a most salutary discipline to disengage her heart from earthly objects and fix it on those which are eternal. They produced in her soul a total indifference to what was passing here below, turning all the energies of her being to the accomplishment of the divine will. We cannot give a better idea of this holy disposition which she had ac- quired than in her own expressive language. "Alone on a rock this afternoon, surrounded by the most beautiful scenery, adoring and praising Him for his magnificence and glory, the heavy eye could find no delight ; the soul cried out, God! God! give yourself. What is all the rest? A silent voice of love answered, I am yours. Then, dearest lord! keep me as I am while I live; for this is true con- tent, to hope for nothing, to desire nothing, expect nothingj frar nothing. Death 1 Eternity! Oh, how small are all MRS. B. A. SETON. 405 objects of busy, striving, restless, blind, mistaken beings, when at the foot of the cross these two prospects are viewed I" The divine will was the standard by which she estimated all things, the rule which governed her actions, the end of all her aspirations. When, before the final organization of the sisterhood, her prospects for the welfare of herself and her children became involved in a gloomy uncertainty, she wrote to a friend : " Every thing here is again suspended, and I am casting about to prepare for beginning the world again. . . . But we will be in every case under the refuge of the Most High; and glad indeed would I be if I could inspire your dear soul with as much indifference as is in mine, provided His adorable will be done during the few remaining days of my tiresome journey, which, being made with so many tears and sown so thick with crosses, will certainly be concluded with joy and crowned with eternal rest. Look up : the high est there were the lowest here, and coveted most the poverty and humility which accompanied their and our Master every step of his suffering life. But I do not care for you, but for her in whom you suffer much more than yourself. If our Lord suffered us to bear our misery alone, without affecting the dearest part of ourselves, we would not suffer like himself, whose whole suffering was for us and the inju- ries endured by his eternal Father. Now, my friend, we are in the true and sure way of salvation for that long, long eternity before us ; if only we keep courage we will go to heaven on horseback, instead of idling and creeping along. Our Master is too good to us that is all I can say if we even end our lives as he lived, without a place to lay his head. Oh my mouth waters when I think of that, if he ever grant me so great a favor. But let all be in the order of his providence, neither asking nor refusing. Blessed, a thousand million times, his own beloved and blessed name forever !" Such was the ascendency of the divine will in her 466 THE LIFE OF heart that in speaking or writing her usual exclamation waa, *' May the will of God be accomplished and exalted forever !" Language on these occasions seemed inadequate for the ex- pression of her feelings, and hence her significant manner of employing the numerals in order to give utterance, as far is possible, to the fervor of her soul. Nor did she submit to the divine will only under those circumstances which de- manded but little sacrifice. She understood well that con. formity to the will of God cannot be true and sincere if it does not embrace the trials as well as the consolations which he dispenses. She was not one of those who are willing to follow our Divine Saviour to the breaking of bread but re- fuse to accompany him to Calvary. He traced the way of the cross, by his instructions and example, as the path for his disciples and the only test of a true service to God. For this reason, Mother Seton looked upon Calvary as the ren- dezvous of all true Christians. On a certain occasion, when strongly tempted to leave her establishment at Emmettsburg, she took up a spiritual book; and the first passage that met her eye was the narration of that incident recorded of St. Peter, that, on the breaking Dut of the persecution against the Christians under Nero, his disciples urged him to withdraw for a while from Home. Through condescension to their wishes, he made his escape by night ; but, on going out from the city, he met Jesua Christ, or what in a vision appeared in his form, and he askea him, "Lord, whither art thou going?" Christ an- swered, " I am going to Rome to be crucified again." St Peter at once retraced his steps, and remained in the city until he suffered martyrdom. Mother Seton was struck rith the applicability of this circumstance to her own situa- tion, and she determined to bear her cross with constancy, in the path marked out to her by Divine Providence. Poverty and tribulation had nothing repulsive for her; she MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 407 considered them as the most abundant sources of heavenly blessing and among the best tokens of being favored by the Almighty. She even wished that the troubles of this life should be the portion and inheritance of her children. Speaking to a friend of the trials that God had sent her. she says, "For that I bless him most of all. Where would I be now if he had not scourged and bound me? And in his infinite goodness he may do the same for you. What iLdtfcer by whose hands ? If I get to his kingdom, what matter how? Faith; faith, my dear friend! the Captain marches on. Oh, yes, we follow, we follow!" All the af- flictions that befell her, all the crosses of life, from whatever source they came, she accepted not only with resignation, but even with joy, as the surest means of her true hap- piness. One of the chief characteristics of her piety was the love of the cross. She meditated habitually on thr sufferings of Christ, to which she had a particular devotion, frequently reading the history of his sacred passion, and always on her knees. For the same reason she chose for her special patrons those saints who were most distinguished for their spirit of penance, as St. Augustin and St. Mary Magdalen. The renunciation of self which obedience required af- forded her, as we have seen, most signal occasions of suffer ing for God's sake, while the meekness and prudence of true charity, amid contradictions and opposition, equally dis- played the triumphs of her patient and silent endurance. She had the greatest delicacy to complain of others, and rather accused herself when the most tried, reproaching her- self even with involuntary feelings of dislike. Fully sensible of the obligations imposed by the precept, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," she was ever careful to cherish in her heart the purest sentiments of charity. She asked her- pelf, continually, " Am I in full charity with all ?" 408 THE LIFE or The same disposition to imitate the exa. xple of her cruoi fied Master inspired her with a most sincere and profound humility, Habitually and deeply impressed with the truth that God despises the proud and regards the humble and daman ds a strict account of graces bestowed, she feared for herself, lest she might be found wanting in his sight, while at the same time she entertained the most compassionate re- gard for the ignorant and blind sinner. So convinced waa she of her being but nothingness and sin before God, that she was astonished and shocked when praised by others, and felt distressed in being obliged, as superior of the community, to instruct, direct, or reprove those under her charge. She was fully impressed with the belief that her efforts would only spoil the work intrusted to her, and she threw herself entirely upon the divine protection, that God would take it in hand and give it a favorable issue. In the following pas- sage from one of her letters to a clergyman, she depicts in a lifelike manner her spirit of humility. " Your dear Bour- daloue is always the fountain of my Sunday instructions, be- cause I can draw so many little streams to apply direct to our own wants. Poor, poor pauverina !* obliged to preach, and against the commands of St. Paul ! And if you knew only one-half my reluctance to give an instruction or a cate- chism, (formerly the heart's delight,) it seems to me even yourself would be tempted to turn away with disgust from the ungrateful culprit ; but the Dearest says, ' You shall, you must, only because I will it ; trust your weak breast and turning head to me; I will do all. And Sam is so cruel, whenever there is an evident success, he pushes and says, ' See how they are affected ! how silent and attentive ! what respect ! what look of love !' and tries to make distractions in * Pauverina signifies poor little woman, an epithet which her friend Mr. Bubade s >metime8 applied to her, and which she occasionally used herself. MRS. E. A. 6ETON. 409 every way. The poor, poor soul don't even look toward him, but keeps direct forward with our Dearest, but with such a heavy, heavy heart at this vile mixture. So, in the refectory sometimes, the tears start and the weakness of a baby comes over me ; but our Dearest again says, ' Look up ; if you had your little morsel alone, of another quality, no paina of body or reluctance to eat, what part would I have in youi meal ? But here is your place : to keep order, direct the reader, give example, and eating cheerfully the little you can take, in the spirit of love, as if before my tabernacle. I will do the rest. Abandon all.' Abandon all ! All is abandoned. But, pray, pray for your poor one continually." By the perpetual warfare which Mother Seton carried on against corrupt nature, her thoughts and desires became alto- gether detached from the things of this life and centred on those of the next. That faith which the apostle defines to be " the substance of things to be hoped for, the evidence of things which appear not,"* was the eminent disposition of her soul ; and truly may we apply to her the language which our Divine Saviour addressed to the Canaanite in the gospel, " woman, great is thy faith !"} Eternity was continually before her eyes, ever on her lips, and still more in her heart. 'Eternity!" she writes to a friend, "oh, how near it often seems to me ! Think of it when you are hard pushed. How long will be that day without a night, or that night without a day! May we praise and bless and adore forever!'' Filled with the thought of the divine greatness and immen- sity, she was equally struck with the nothingness of all that passes here below. Space and time were forgotten. "What is distance or separation," she wrote to an absent friend, "when our soul, plunged in the ocean of infinity, sees all in Heb. xL 1. f MtL xv. 28. U 410 THE LIFE Of his own bosom? There is no Europe or America there. Our God and our all !" So utterly insignificant did all hu- man things appear to her when viewed in the immensity of God and eternity, that she manifested no vain curiosity in regard to matters of a secular nature. She never made any inquiries relative to political events. Even in the good works of the servants of God she could see nothing worthy of regard compared with the claims of infinite perfection God alone was great. " He is all;" "God is all;" such were her habitual expressions. All things were weighed by hei according to the standard of faith. Crosses and afflictions, prosperity and adversity, health and sickness, life, death, worldly prospects, every thing, was viewed in that bright mirror of religious truth. " I see nothing in this world but the blue sky and our altars; all the rest is so plainly not to be looked at. We talk now all day long of my death, and how it will be, just like the rest of the housework. What is it else? What come in the world for? Why in it so long, but this last, great, eternal end? It seems to me so simple, when I look up to the crucifix. Coffin, patches, grave; what a life, indeed!" She seemed to feel intensely the holy desire expressed by the apostle, "to be dissolved and to be with Christ." She thus writes to a priest the year before her death : " Oh, my father, friend ! could I hear my last stage of cough and feel my last stage of pain in the tearing away my prison-walls, how would I bear my joy? Thought of going home, called and by His will ! What a transport! But, they say, don't you fear to die? Such a sinner must fear; but I fear much more to live, and know, at I do, that every evening-examen finds my account but lengthened and enlarged. I don't fear death half as muct as my hateful, vile self." Heaven she looked upon as the true home of herself and all faithful servants of God; and he was in the habit of alluding to the departure of piou* MRS. B. A. SETON. 411 soula from this world as to their passage home. Thia thought she constantly made use of to sweeten the cup of affliction and to animate herself under the pressure of earthly sufferings. "We must often," she said, "draw the com- parison of time and eternity. That is the remedy for all our trouble. Oh, my friend, how small will the present moment ippear when we enter that great ocean ! How much we will ihen wish we had doubled our penances and sufferings while that moment lasted ! How we will laugh when we look be- hind at the troubles we have stopped at, which will then ap- pear in their true light ! and that bright and glorious cross which we now drag along through the mud and dirt, how beautiful and lovely will it appear when we shall find it opens the door of our eternal happiness for us ! My dear friend, follow on with courage; you do not suffer alone, you well know; there is but one place of true rendezvous for true souls." So deeply was she impressed with the sanctity of God, and the necessity of acting with the purest inten- tions in order to offer him a worthy service, that she strove continually to perfect her dispositions and repair the slight- est faults, lamenting these more earnestly in the divine pre- sence than common souls do the most serious transgressions. This devotedness to God and his honor caused her to feel most keenly the obstacles so often thrown in the way of di- vine grace. Speaking of a lady in whom she observed diffi- culties of this kind, which prevented her from entering the Catholic Church, she says: "To pray is all I see. She kept my heart so well under the press, showing all her oppo- sitions to the reign of our Jesus, that I spent truly a day of tears and interior cry to Him, to see how they bind his blessed hands, pervert his word, and yet hold up the head in boast that they are true Christians." The same idea of the divine sanctity inspired her with an extraordinary love of holy virginity, and made her almost regret that she had 412 THE LIFE OF been a mother. The virginal character in those of her sex, M that of priest in men, was a special object of her v<>nera tion. The mysteries of religion, however impenetrable to our feeble intellect, were the objects of her strong and unshaken belief, because it was enough for her to know that God had revealed them. Accepting with the most humble submission from his Church the truths which it proposed to her venera- tion, she did not allow her mind to be disturbed by vain speculation on points that do not belong to the faith. She was once appointed by her superior to instruct a young lady whose mind was somewhat tinctured with infidelity, and who started useless questions on the subject of original sin, the incarnation, &c. Mother Seton, while she endeavored with all humility to enlighten her on these points, excited her as- tonishment when she remarked to her that she herself waa "only an adorer of the mystery of the Church, the only ark in the world." As to heathens, savages, sects, and the like, they were "only in her heart for prayer, but never in her brain for what became of them;" or, as she added, "to trouble my faith in his wisdom and mercy, the Father, the most tender Father of all; my immense God; I his atom." She could never sufficiently express her gratitude to God for having been made a child of the true Church and for the graces which flowed from this first blessing. She once observed to a relative, after a night of watching, " How many times did rapturous joy and adoration fill the whole soul of thanksgiving that I am permitted to dwell in thia divine region of superstition, as the Englishman calls it to be a Catholic ! Heavenly mercy ! I would be trampled on by the whole world!" On another occasion the an- niversary of the day on which her soul had passed through * violent struggle in its yearnings after truth she wrote to Mr. Brute" : " How, my God ' God ! Immense God 1 MRS. X. A. SETON. 413 will your atom ever forget this Epiphany, 1815? The gra- titude of a thousand years' penance would be little after it My Jesus our Jesus my God God your lifted cha- lice alone can thank ! Oh, his kingdom poor souls nncon- Bcious ! there the point of points !" By the spirit of faith Mother Seton was led to resign herself continually into the hands of God, to whose all-wise and fatherly protection she committed the issue of every affair. Nothing could disturb the inward peace which she enjoyed by this abandonment of herself to Divine Provi- dence. It was her consolation at all times, amid the uncer- tainties of life and the apprehensions which they beget, to re- flect simply that God is God, and to view God in all things. These sentiments were frequently expressed in her letters, and they show that in the exalted idea which she enter- tained of his perfections, his wisdom, his mercy, his good- ness, she found a solution for all the difficulties and a balm for all the sufferings of life. By this constant union with God and confidence in his paternal care, her soul was firmly established in peace, and she displayed a remarkable equa- nimity, never worried or troubled by passing incidents. The same reliance upon God caused her to seek his aid not only under trials and temptations, but also for the more enlight- ened discharge of the duties which she had to perform. It was her custom, when she met with any difficulty in the les- sons that she was preparing for the class-room, to retire before the Blessed Sacrament, to implore the assistance of Him who is the fountain-head of all true wisdom. Her prayers OB these occasions were not in vain. Such was the ardor of Mother Seton's faith that it shone forth with peculiar effect in the exercise of prayer and in approaching the sacraments. Among her favorite devotions were the prayers of St. Bridget, the Te Deum after mass, the Magnificat, the Apostles' Creed, the Psalms, and the 35* 414 THE LIFE OF Benedicite or Canticle of the Three Children. When she per formed these devotions aloud, the fervor of her soul became visible in her countenance. Her whole face was lit up with animation, and the ruddy glow of her features evidenced the burning piety within. In hearing the instructions or assist ing at the services of the Church, it seemed to her as if the Leavens above were opened and God himself was exercising this ministry in person. When reciting the words of inspi- ration, she appeared to be almost inspired herself, the lan- guage of Holy Scripture arresting all the powers of her soul, as if she heard it breathed forth from the lips of a Moses, a David, an Isaias, or a Jeremias. But the vividness of hei faith displayed itself with most remarkable effect in the re- ception of the holy communion. Her devotion to the Blessed Sacrament was most ardent, and she may be truly said to have belonged to the number of those described by the pious h Kempis, who crave with heart and lips to receive their God, the fountain of living waters, and can allay or satisfy their hunger only by feasting with all spiritual avidity and sweetness on his sacred body. Oh, true and burning faith, a proof of the real presence of Christ on our altars ! Such was the faith of Mother Seton ; for, with the disciples, she recognised her Lord " in the breaking of bread," and her heart glowed within her as he walked with her in the way.* These were precious moments of heavenly blessing, according to her belief, and she therefore taught her children, when young, to unite their prayers with hers whenever she had the happiness to communicate. On her retiring from the holy table, her two youngest daughters might be seen ap preaching her, one on each side, and reclining their innocent * ' vera ardens fides oorum, probabile existens argumentum sacm prsesentiae tuae ; isti enim veraciter cognoseunt Dominum suum in frao- tione pauis, quorum cor tarn valide ardet in eis de Jesu ambulante cum i>." De luiitiit. Christ!, lib. iv. 14 MRS. E. A. SETON 415 beads on the maternal bosom, to draw from that living sanc- tuary of the Divinity streams of heavenly grace, while all three poured forth their hearts in praise and thanksgiving to the Almighty. Impressed as Mother Seton was with the momentous reali- ties of the world to come, and the vanity of present things, ske could not but be filled with zeal for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. Such in fact were the great ends of her entire consecration to the divine service; and when she reflected upon the immense numbers that were ignorant of revealed truth, seated in darkness and in the shadow of death, it was the ardent aspiration of her soul that mission- aries should go forth to announce on every side the glad tidings of salvation, while she labored by her prayers and ex- ample to advance the kingdom of God at home and abroad. The following note, which she addressed to the Rev. Mr. Brute", depicts in lively coloring the burning desires of her heart: "Blessed, your poor little Mother is lost these days past in your letters, to see man a wild savage a polished savage a man in any state, what a savage unless he be in Christ ! Oh, blessed, I gasp with desires to Him whom you are now carrying in and on your breast, for your furll, whole accomplishment of his blessed will. I glance a fearful look at you and Mr. Cooper, and say secretly, ' If I was one or the other!' then adore and think I know nothing about it; oulj it seems to me that those who have light and grace already might be trusted to keep it, and I would not stop night or day till I reached the dry and dark wilderness where neithar can be found, where such horrid crimes go on for want of them, and where there is such a glorious death to be gaiued by carrying them. Oh, Gabriel, if I was light and life, as you are, I would shout like a madman alone to my God, and roar and groan and sigh and be silent all together, till 1 had baptized a thousand and snatched these poor victims from 4l8 THE LIFE OP heL And pray, madam, say you, why does not your zea< make its flame through your own little hemisphere? Truej but rules, prudence, subjection, opinions, &c. are dreadful walls to a burning soul wild as mine. For me, I am like a fiery horse I had when a girl, whom they tried to break by making him drag a heavy cart, and the poor beast was so humbled that he could never more be inspired by whips or caresses, and wasted to a skeleton till he died. But you and Mr. Cooper might waste to skeletons to some purpose, and, after wasting, be sent still living to the glories of the king- dom. In the mean time, that kingdom come ! Every day I ask my soul what I do for it in my little part assigned, and san see nothing but to smile, caress, b< patient, write, pray, and ' wait before Him.' Oh ! my blessed God 1 that king- dom cornel" Thus did Mother Seton labor for the kingdom of God. The many hearts in which she kindled the fire of divine love within the limits of St. Joseph's Valley, and the precious fruits of charity and piety dispensed far and wide by her spiritual daughters, will bear testimony to the fervor and efficacy of her zeal. For several years before her death it was her custom to ask of God for her Christmas gift, as she jovially termed it, the conversion of some poor soul that was still wandering in the devious paths of error or was but nominally a member of the true Church. Christmas was the day usually appointed for the first communion of the children, and their saintly superior, with an ingenuity c.f zeal not less admirable than it was effective, enlisted their youthful hearts in the holy work of offering violence to Heaven. On one of these occasions she observed to th children, the evening preceding the above-mentioned festival, that, if they had taken all necessary care to place their souls in a worthy state for the reception of our blessed Lord, he would not hesitate to graut the reasonable requests of thnii MRS. E. A. SETON. 417 pure and innocent hearts. "Pray, then, my beloved ones pray much for your parents; pray for the gift of perseverance; and Mother begs you to pray most earnestly for the conver- sion of a dear friend of mine in New York, to whom I have never written on the subject of religion. Pray, my dear ones, that this soul may be added to the fold." The chil- dren promised to comply with her request. For some time Mother Seton received no letters from the lady in question, although she had been in the habit of writing frequently to her friend at St. Joseph's. But a few months after the prayers of the Mother and children had ascended to the throne of God in her behalf, she despatched a letter to Mrs. Seton, explaining the reason of the interruption in her cor- respondence. "Be not surprised at my silence," said she; "but you will be surprised when I tell you I am a Bx>man Catholic. While deliberating and examining, I determined not to communicate my new thoughts to you, fearing lest my friends should attribute my change of religion to your influ- ence. I wished that all the glory of this wonderful mercy of God should be attributable to himself alone." Thus did the Almighty reward the fervent zeal and humble prayer of his servant. Several remarkable conversions were known to have occurred precisely at the time when she solicited these favors from the divine goodness. That the kingdom of God might be extended everywhere in the souls of men, Mother Seton wished most ardently that his priests should be worthy of their sublime and holy call- ing as " the ministers of Christ and the dispensers of the mysteries of God." As a member of the flock under their charge, she was full of reverence, piety, and submission; but such was her lofty appreciation of the sacerdotal character and office, that she wished most fervently to see in every priest the man of God, fully sensible of the magnitude and holiness jf the work to which he is called. " Oh that priest* 2 B H8 THE LIFE OF felt for fchemselves," exclaims a saintly prelate, whose me- mory is now in veneration throughout the American Church,* "oh that priests felt for themselves as Mother Seton felt they ought to be ! How much did she not suffer in witnessing their imperfections ! How sorrowfully, yet how charitably, did she consider their faults !" She was much pained when she heard the word of God announced by clergymen in manner unworthy of so important and sacred a function. On one occasion she did not hesitate to give a word of friendly advice to a young priest, who had preached very negligently the day before and acknowledged that he had not troubled himself much about it. "Sir," said she, "that awakens my anger. Do you remember a priest holds the honor of God on his lips? Do you not trouble yourself to spread his fire he wishes so much enkindled ? If you will not study and prepare while young, what when you are old? There is a mother's lesson." The holy bishop just referred to has left behind him the acknowledgment that no one ever impressed his soul so forcibly as Mother Seton did with the idea of what a true priest ought to be. The following advice she sent to a clergyman in Baltimore, who had a preference for Emmettsburg, exhorting him to that perfect purity of service which excluded even the most natural and innocent gratification. " My heart and soul this week past have been under the press of the beatitude, ' Blessed are the clean of heart, for THEY SHALL SEE GOD.' Oh, my brother, take those words on yours, and in my Sunday dear communion I will beg our God to write them on it. Happy, happy are you to live all for him, every bent of your heart's affections, every power of your soul, turned wholly to him, without even the mixture of the innocent sojourning a while with your old * Rt. Rev. Dr. Brutl, first Bishop of Vinoennea. MRS. E. A. SETON. 419 father and dear brother.* How much purer is your service where you are, above the mist of earthly attraction ! One thing I hope you are convinced of, (I as a wretched sinner know it well,) that, wherever we meet a little prop of human comfort, there is always some subtraction of divine comfort; and, for my part, I am so afraid to cause any such subtraction, lhat I feel a reserve and fear in every human consolation, that makes them more my pains than my pleasures; yet the liberty of children of God I hope in all. I only mean to say, we should be too happy when the providence of our God keeps us wholly to himself. . . . You are remembered and loved here too much to make it a safe place for you, unless you were sent by God himself without the least agency of your own, and even then I fear my brother would grow lean. Pray for us, I pray. Your own poor Mother." We should leave unfinished the character of faith so emi- nently observable in Mother Seton, if we did not record her filial devotion to the Mother of God, the common mother of all faithful souls. She was full of confidence in the interces- sion of Mary, taught her children to honor and invoke the assistance of that glorious Virgin, and, as a tribute of her veneration, she promised her that her spiritual daughters should ever bear her name. Hence, many members of the community assume the name of Mary when it can be con- veniently connected with their distinctive appellation, and all look upon it as theirs, although not mentioned. By these fervent dispositions did Mother Seton apply herself, especially during the twelve years of her retirement from the world, to fulfil the merciful designs of Divine Providence. She was called in a special manner to a labor of love; to the illustration of that well-ordered charity which the inspired volume teaches to be an unequivocal Two clergymen, friends tf the one to whom she waa writing. 420 THE LIFE Of mark of acceptance before God,* the bond of perfection,f and the fulfilment of the law;J and her efforts to correspond to this high vocation were generous and unreserved. She re- nounced the world, and then renounced herself, to become qualified for the holy work to which she was destined, to promote the glory of God in the service of his creatures. For this purpose she purified her heart from every affection and aspiration that did not refer to Him, that she might be a victim of divine love, thinking, speaking, acting, only in accordance with and from the impulse of his holy will. (S3) Heaven accepted the sweet perfume of virtue which she thus offered on the altar of charity, the generous and entire con- secration of herself to the honor of Jesus Christ in his poor and suffering members, and, rallying around her other hearts worthy of co-operating in the noble undertaking, it made her the firm corner-stone of a work which has become a lasting and extensive blessing to the Church in the United States of America. She held herself and her community alwaya ready for the execution of the good purposes of God, and she had the consolation to see the poor instructed and comforted, the orphan sheltered from the frowns of a pitiless world, youth trained up in piety and knowledge, and a numerous community of holy women, who were everywhere the "good odor of Christ," diffusing on every side that light of virtue which, according to his command, must so shine before men that they may see our good works and glorify our Father who is in heaven. || With such a spectacle before her eyes, with so many evidences of the divine blessing attending her, she could hail with joy the close of life, as the termination of her appointed course and the moment of glorious reward. John ziii. 34, 35. t Colow. UL 14. J Rom. xiiL 8, i. } 2 Cor. ii. 15. | Matt T. 16. MRS. E. A. SETOW. 421 "Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, OLoid, in peace, be- cause my eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast pr - pared before the face of 11 peoples, a light to the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel."* From the attack of illness which she suffered in 1818 Mother Seton never entirely recovered. Her constitution had been completely shattered, and, by greater exposure than her delicate health would permit, she contracted, in the sum- mer of 1820, a pulmonary disease which confined her during four months to her room and baffled every effort of her medical attendants. As she approached the term of her earthly career, no change was visible in her dispositions, ex- cept that she became more united to God and more dis- engaged from all created things. Though her sufferings were very great at times, no complaint ever escaped her lips, and it was chiefly her moaning during sleep that indicated the severity of her pains. Such was her attention to improve every opportunity of merit, that she felt distressed at the ef- forts which the affection of her spiritual daughters suggested for her relief, and submitted to them only by the advice of her director. If nature would sometimes manifest, under the influence of pain, an uneasiness which was altogether involuntary, she reproached herself with it and immediately sought to efface it by the grace of absolution Notwithstand- ing the painfulness of her situation, slw tras ever cheerful, ever ready to receive the visits of her aJ-ters and to give directions relative to the affairs propriated to scholastic purposes, we shall briefly state the particular uses of each. The main edifice is distrib- uted into rooms for recitation, the cabinet of natural sciences, the library, dormitories, etc., and in the lowest story are the important arrangements of the culinary department. Another building in the rear, contains the refectory, infirmary, bathing establishment, and a large hall for drawing, painting and embroidery. The last mentioned edifice has three grand divisions : a study- room, a hall for public exhibitions, and one for the exer- cises of vocal and instrumental music. A few years after its erection, in 1844, another exten- sive structure was undertaken, for the exclusive accom- modation of the sisters and novices, and was completed in little more than twelve months, having been occupied in September, 1845. It stands east and west, connecting the academy and the chapel, with lateral projections to the south, inclosing on three sides a court-yard seventy feet by forty in extent. The new residence of the sisters is two hundred and thirty-two feet in developed length, and forty in width, with two stories and a roomy attic, and is constructed of brick and cut stone, colored of a light slate or gray. It is after the conventual style of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, with embattled parapets ; high-pitched roof with dormers, surmounted by a belfry thirty feet high ; the windows of the second story square, with transom forming a cross ; the lower windows mullioned with hood-moulds ; the lateral walls broken by buttresses ; and with porches to the first and second stories, running along the north wall. The build- ing is truly Catholic in its external appearance. It was designed and its erection superintended by a gentleman who has given much attention to the study of Christian MRS. E. A. 8ETON. 447 architecture.* The interior parts of the edifice are well adapted to their sacred uses. The lower and second stories are severally fourteen feet in height. On the first is a cloister running around the entire court-yard and communicating with the chapel, and also the public rooms for the use of the community, among them the superior's apartment and chapter-room. The other sto- ries are occupied as dormitories, and for the infirmary, refectory and other purposes, f Shortly before the occupation of this building by the community, Sister Mary Etienne Hall was elected Mother-Superior, July 21st, 1845. During this same year the white house, which had been originally built for the purposes of the institution, and which for some time had been used exclusively by the sisters, was removed to another location, northwest of the chapel, in order to make room for the larger edifice just described, and was converted into an orphan asylum. The first and darling wish of Mother Seton was to serve the poor and the helpless ; and it has so happened that the first building erected for the Sisters of Charity, and which formerly served for the combined objects of sisterhood and acad- emy, is now appropriated exclusively to the support and education of the destitute orphan. About forty children are occupants of this neat and venerable house, under the immediate care of the sisters, and enjoy every facility for obtaining the benefits of a solid and religious educa- tion. Such of them as evince a particular talent, are taught those branches which will qualify them for the office of governess. Actuated by a sense of grateful veneration for Mother Beton, the government of the sisterhood lias erected a Eugene Giraud, Esq. f U. S. Catholic Magaiine, vol. v., p. 221 ; vol. vi., p. 497. 448 THE LIFE Of handsome marble monument over her remains, which was commenced in 1845. Its plan and decorations are in the Gothic style. On the front, facing the south, is the in- scription, " To the memory of E. A. Seton, Foundress ;" on the west side are the words, " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints;"* on the east, "The just shall live in everlasting remembrance ;" f and on the north, " The just shall shine as the sun in the kingdom of their Father." | On the grounds in front of the academy, another structure has arisen, a monument of youthful piety and virtue. It is a small Gothic oratory, in the pointed style, erected in 1845, by contributions from some of the former pupils of the academy, who requested at the same time that it should be called " The Chapel of Our Lady of the Valley." As soon as it was commenced, the resident scholars seconded the design, and they still continue their offerings for its adornment. Its interior arrangements and decorations are splendidly beautiful, and reflect high honor upon the gratitude and piety of the Catholic pupils who erected and who now adorn this elegant shrine of our Blessed Lady. Besides these improvements at the Mother-house, much has been done within a few years past to enhance the appearance of the place, by the planting of trees, and laying off the premises in a tasteful manner and attractive to the eye. Since Mother Etienne has been superior of the society, the following important establishments have been under- taken abroad: a school at Baltimore; an orphan asylum at Wilmington, Del.; an orphan asylum and two schools at Albany ; an asylum, school and hospital at Troy ; an asylum, school and hospital at Buffalo; an asylum and Bchool at Detroit; an asylum and infirmary at Milwaukee; PnJm 116. | i>salm m - i Matth. ziii. 43. MRS. E. A BET ON. 449 an asylum and school at Natchez ; a hospital at Donald- sonville ; an asylum and school at Norfolk ; a school at Boston; a school at St. Louis, an asylum in the same city for more advanced orphans, who are taught trades ; and also an asylum for poor girls who are out of a situa- tion, where they are provided with work until they find a suitable employment. Of the establishments under the charge of the Sisters of Charity, Mount Hope Institution at Baltimore, chiefly for the insane, may be mentioned as one of the principal, and as an instance of their munifi- cent and devoted labors in behalf of their suffering fellow-creatures. This property is owned by the sisters, who, since the purchase of it in 1844, have made most extensive additions to the buildings, and such alterations as have enabled them to introduce all the latest improve- ments for the benefit and comfort of the patients. The institution stands on an eminence which commands an extensive view of the adjacent country. The adjoining grounds have been laid off with special reference to the good of the afflicted individuals who live in the house. Its interior arrangements are also particularly directed to promote their welfare ; the rooms are spacious and airy, the walls are relieved with paintings and other objects calculated to attract attention and divert the mind ; in a word, the whole establishment presents more the appearance of an abode of domestic ease and refine- ment, than of an institution forbidding and repulsive in its character. In regard to the moral treatment of the insane, the whole system may be said to consist in kind- ness and employment. The latter is necessary to divert the mind of the patient from its morbid delusions, while the former is equally so to consult at all times his comfort and advantage. In this respect, houses for the insane under the direction of the sisters are peculiarly blessed* ! 2 u 450 THE LIFX 01 Kinuness and benevolence are the direct fruits of that charity which they profess, and cannot be found in the same degree in uneducated hirelings. " But it is also highly important," says Dr. Stokes, "that besides the possession of these rare qualities, the attendants should be familiar with the habits and manners of respectable life. Can any greater injury be inflicted on a sensitive female lunatic, for example, one heretofore accustomed to good society, than to find herself, on her recovery, limited to the companionship of a common attendant ? Can anything be conceived better calculated to disgust and increase the excitement of a convalescent of refined and tender feelings, than to be subjected to the rude and jocose familiarity, or, it may be, the rougher behavior of low and ignorant keepers ? Sir William Ellis well re- marks, ' a wife, a sister or a daughter exhibits an altera- tion in manner which indicates the existence of diseased action in the brain there is a morbid sensitiveness of feeling it is essential that she should at once be taken from her home and intrusted to strangers. Can any one doubt the advantage of securing as her companion a lady of tender feelings, of refined and cultivated mind, and who has such an acquaintance with the disease as to enable her carefully and judiciously to apply, under the direction of a professional man, proper medical and moral treatment? Is there a husband, a father or a brother, who would not hail as a benefactress, a female BO endowed, who would take the charge of his relation?' In the sisters we have found associated a combination of qualities admirably adapting them for this responsible and delicate duty. By their exalted piety, by their con- trolling sense of responsibility to the all-seeing God, by their refined taste and cultivated minds, they possess the very attributes most necessary to constitute faithful, effi- MRS. 8. A. BBTOH. 451 cient and skilful attendants on the insane. In a word, they possess, in an eminent degree, all those endowments of the mind and heart, requisite to insure the fulfilment of all the requirements of that law of humanity and kind- ness, which should be the pervading genius of every lunatic asylum."* Though the insane constitute the greater portion of those who are received at Mt. Hope, other patients suffering from general diseases are also admitted. Many indigent persons likewise enjoy the benefits of the institution, living on its bounty without making any compensation in return. From the last re- port of the institution, for the year 1851, we learn that there are twenty charity patients in the house. The same document informs us, that " the whole number of persons who in nine years have sought to avail them- selves of the benefits of this institution, laboring either under some form of mental malady, or of mania a potu, or of some kind of general disease, has been two thou- sand and forty-eight. Of this number, one thousand two hundred and three have undergone treatment in the department for the insane, and eight hundred and forty- five in the department for general diseases. Of the above aggregate number, there have been discharged one thousand eight hundred and twenty-eight of which number one thousand one hundred and sixty-five have recovered, eighty-six have died, and five hundred and seventy-seven have been discharged in various condi- tions, some greatly improved in health and habits, and others as harmless and incurable." During the year 1851, the whole number of patients treated in the house, was three hundred and seventeen, of whom seventy-nine were in the department of general diseases, f U. 3. Catholic Magaiine, rol. rL, 18 47, p. 489. | Appeiiix 0. 453 THE LIFE or Among the institutions which have been mentioned in the preceding pages, as having been conducted by the Sisters of Charity, several have been discontinued, and others have ceased to be under their direction, owing to various circumstances which rendered it ex- pedient, in the judgment of superiors, that the services of the sisters should be withdrawn. Pay-schools and other institutions, which were undertaken by the sisters years ago, when urgent reasons seemed to require this modification of their rule, have in a great measure been abolished, as these reasons in many cases no longer exist. It has been thought advisable, by such reforms, to give to the operations of the society, as much as possible, that sphere and direction which belong to the congrega- tion established by St. Vincent of Paul. This policy was the more necessary, as a union with this congrega- tion was earnestly desired and fondly expected by the sisterhood at Emmettsburg. The most important event connected with the recent history of the society in this country, is undoubtedly its incorporation into that an- , cient and venerable congregation which has existed for upwards of two hundred years. We have seen that from the very commencement of the community at Emmettsburg, a colony of French sisters was expected to aid and initiate it in the practice of the rules. Since that time frequent applications were made, for the pur- pose of effecting a union between the society in France and that in the United States; but they were always unsuccessful, until a similar petition was more recently presented in the spring of 1849, by an American pre- late, at the request of the Superior-General, the Very Kev. Mr. Deluol, and with the approbation of the Most Bev. Archbishop of Baltimore. The following summer, a still more explicit letter of application was presented MBS. K. A. BETON. 453 by the superiors, through the Rev. Mariano Mailer, who at that time was on a visit to Europe. When he re- turned to America, in the month of October, he was the bearer of an answer favorable to the request of the sis- terhood at Emmettsburg. Shortly after, Mr. Deluol re- signed the office of Superior-General, and at his request Mr. Mailer entered upon its duties as a provisional sub- stitute. At that time the union with the society in France was not complete ; but it was fully established on the 25th of March, 1850, when the sisters in this country renewed their vows with that formula which is used by the society of St. Vincent of Paul. Since that period several members of St. Joseph's community have visited Europe, to obtain an insight into the spirit which prevails there among their associates. The fol- lowing year, on the 8th of December, the feast of the immaculate conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the sisters at Emmettsburg assumed the habit which is com- mon to those in France, and which differs much from that previously used in this country, especially in the head-dress, which is a white linen bonnet with a wide pro- jection on each side.* Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph have thus become associated, by a holy fellowship, with the Daughters of Charity, servants of the poor, forming one society with them, having the same constitutions, rules, government and spirit. Thus also have the mem- bers of the respective sisterhoods in America and on the other side of the Atlantic, mutually drawn upn them- selves and upon their charitable labors an immense in- crease of heavenly blessing, by the additional prayers and services that are now enlisted in the same cause. This head- Jresi in French is called cornette, and ia nearly the same M that first worn by the Daughters of Charity, after their institution Vy 8t Vincent of PaoL 454 THE LIFE or The society throughout the world embraces nearly one thousand institutions, which are generally houses of charity, viz. : hospitals, almshouses, orphan asylums, free schools, industrial schools, etc. The number of sisters in these different establishments throughout the world ex- ceeds twenty-five thousand and thirty (25,030). In this country they form a province, which has an ecclesiastical superior, the Rev. Mariano Mailer, under the title of " Director of the Daughters of Charity," and a chief sister whose title is "Visitatrix of the Daughters of Charity," and who is also local superior of the central house at Emmettsburg.* Rev. Mariano Mailer was eminently fitted for the posi- tion of director of the sisters. His clear discernment in the guiding of souls was remarkable, and his charity and untiring zeal gave the promise that he would direct the American province for many years, at least until the new order of things would be properly established. Prov- idence designed otherwise. In the March of 1853, he was removed to Brazil, S. America, where he acted as visitor and director to the two families of St. Vincent in that province. This transfer was made by the Superior- General in Paris, Very Rev. J. B. Etienne, who at the same time appointed Rev. Francis Burlando director of the sisters in the United States. Mother Etienne Hall, after filling the office of Mother and Visitatrix for ten years, was replaced by Mother Regina Smith, who had presided over the Charity Hos- pital fer upwards of twenty-four years, where she dis- played great prudence, firmness, and kindness in her The Superior-General of the Congregation of the Mission or Lai- rists, is ex offldo Superior-General of the Daughters of Charity ; and hence their direction ia confided, when practicable, to a clergyman who if Laiariat MBS. E. A. SETOIT. 455 difficult position, which prepared her for ihe still more responsible one of visitatrix. During her administra- tion, and with the co-operation and wise direction of Father Burlando, the community increased in numbers, and many new and important establishments were com- menced. Day-schools were opened in Baltimore, Jef- ferson, La.; La Salle, 111. ; Richmond, Va. ; Alton, 111.; Elmira, N. Y. ; Detroit, Mich. ; Santa Barbara, Cal. ; an infant asylum and hospital in Philadelphia; hospitals in Milwaukee, Mobile, Rochester, Norfolk ; an infant asylum in Baltimore ; an insane institution in St. Louis ; an institu- tion in Bouligny, La., etc. Mother Regina's health had been on the decline for some time, and in the year 1860 she resumed the charge of the Charity Hospital, to the great joy of the people who had grieved for her absence of nearly six years. But a brief space of time elapsed after her return to the first field of her labors, when she was called to her reward and eternal rest. Mother Ann Simeon, who had filled the office of Treasurer of the Community, was appointed by the supe- riors in Paris to replace Mother Regina as Visitatrix. Having been a member of the council at the Central House in the United States for many years, and being thoroughly acquainted with the workings of the com- munity at a time, too, when the Republic was suffering from the sad effects of the civil war she was admirably adapted to fill the office at such a crisis. Wisdom, pru- deuce, and amiable simplicity of manners characterized her ; besides showing a great business tact, her apprecia- tion of the beauties of nature and literary tastes (U> were remarkable, as we may judge from her correspondence, conversation, and some spontaneous effusions from her pen, breathing piety and a singular devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. Many and various works of charity 456 THE LIPJS or were commenced during her administration. Infirma- ries, civil and military hospitals were opened in Rich- mond, Washington, Alton, 111., Boston, Baltimore, Phila- delphia; an institution for deaf and dumb; an insane asylum in Buffalo; "Louisiana Retreat" in Bouligny; " Mt. Hope Retreat," si{rnt>d the Rev. Michael Hurley, He had one of the most musical voices that can )>e imagined, the charm of whiefc WM not less delightful In the sacred chant than in h.> pulpit. 40 470 NOTES. Although the city at that time was far from covering the ppace which it now occupies, there was not more than half a mile of vacant ground or forest between her house and the thickly-settled part of the town. The population was then about 46,000. The only Catho- lic churches which it contained were St. Peter's, since removed ; St. Patrick's, rebuilt; St. John's, since replaced by St. Alphonsus ; and St. Mary's chapel, just then completed. The foundation cf th present Metropolitan church had been laid in 1806 ; but it wu not dedicated until the year 1821. (13) p. 236. This house stands between the kitchen and the workroom. The school was soon after removed to another log-house opposite, which was erected for the purpose. To this a frame building was added, and subsequently, at the west end, a second building of logs. In this block were comprised for many years the academical halls of Mt. St. Mary's College, and a portion of it is still standing. A writer in the United States Catholic Magazine, vol. v., 1846, p. 37, thus al- ludes to the early improvements at that place : " Mr. Dubois, who loved an elevated site commanding an extensive prospect, intended at first to build on the brow of the hill, a short distance in front of the church, and he had prepared the ground for the purpose ; but he was wisely persuaded by Mr. Dubourg to choose the better site below, where he would have command of the ample supply of water from the spring, and, like a ship in a snug harbor, be pro- tected by the mountain both on the north and west from the w"nda of winter. For several years he was occupied in erecting his rwo rows of log-buildings in the midst of a dense thicket and on the margin of an almost impassable swamp. A clearing was made to the south by cutting away the forest-trees ; but for several years their stumps remained to decorate the college play-ground. Farther south a garden was prepared and an orchard planted. A largo amount of money and labor was expended in breaking these grounds into terraces, levelling them, freeing them from rocks and stones, and otherwise improving them." "Sometimes," says the same writer, "the seminary assumed the appearance of a manual-labor school, when the older pupils and their teachers gathered in the harvests of the farm, or labored, with their venerated president at their head, in clearing, levelling, and improving the grounds about NOTES. 471 their college. This wai generally, however, regarded as recreation, and sweetened by many an artifice which the good old gentle*na knew how to employ in order to convert toil iuto pastime." (14) p. 236. This seminary had been opened in 1806, on the feast of the As- Bomption of the B. V. Mary, by the Rev. Mr. Dillet, a Sulpitian. It was situated five miles from Hanover, and about two from Abbotts- town, near the foot of a ridge called Pigeon Hills. Some years after, the property became a retreat for the students of St. Mary's Seminary and College in Baltimore, during the summer vacation, and was adreirably suited to the purpose. The buildings were spacious and commodious, surrounded by fine gardens and ex- tensive orchards, and in the midst of a country remarkable for its salubrious atmosphere and offering many facilities for agreeable pastime and healthy amusement. This place continued to be the resort of the seminarians and collegians until the year 1849, when it was exchanged for the more convenient locality of St. Charles College, about fifteen miles from Baltimore, on the Frederick Road See jtat de I'fiylise Catholique, by Dillet, already quoted. (15) p. 241. At this period (1809) there were only three institutions in the United States besides that just commenced at Baltimore which offered to the female sex an asylum from the world for the more assiduous cultivation of Christian perfection : the Ursuline Convent at New Orleans, the Carmelite Convent in Charles county, Md., and the community of ladies at Georgetown, D. C. Of these, only the first and last-mentioned afforded facilities for the education of young ladies. The Ursuline Convent at New Orleans was founded in 1727, while Louisiana was a French province, and it gave the benefits of a Bound education to almost all who received a liberal course of in- struction in that part of the country, until the year 1791, whenthia employment was shared by emigrants from St. Domingo. The nuns had also charge of a hospital and orphan asylum. The Carmelite r rder of the reform of St. Theresa was established In t.his country, in 1790. by the Reverend Charles Neale, wh 472 NOTES. brought with him from Europe four nuns, three of whom wer Americans and one an English lady. They took possession of their house, near Port Tobacco, Charles county, Md., on the 16th of October. They fast eight months in the year, wear woollen cloth- ing, and sleep on straw beds. They recite the canonical office, and offer up their prayers, fasts, and other good works, for the benefit of souls, and particularly for those who labor in the vineyard of Christ. They never eat meat except in case of necessity, when th physician prescribes the use of it. Owing to a curtailment of their means of support, the Most Rev. Archbishop Whitfield advised them, in 1831, to remove to Baltimore and open a school for the instruction of young persons belonging to their sex. They accord- ingly transferred their establishment to that city on the 13th of September, the same year. The Rev. Abbe" Herard deserves mention as one of the principal benefactors of this excellent com- munity. He did much toward the erection of their present choir and chapel, and left them an annuity of several hundred dollars for the support of a chaplain. There are generally about twenty-five Bisters in the house. Their school was discontinued in the begin- ning of 1852. For further details respecting the origin and pro- gress of the Carmelite Convent, see United Statet Catholic Magazine, vol. viii., 1849, pp. 24-38. The Visitation Convent at Georgetown owes its origin, in a great measure, to the zeal of the Reverend Leonard Neale, afterward Archbishop of Baltimore. In the year 1797, Miss Alice Lalor associated herself with two other ladies in Philadelphia, tinder the direction of the Rev. Mr. Neale, to form a pious community. Her two companions having been carried off by the yellow fever, she went, in 1798, to Georgetown, where she boarded for a short time with a community of Poor Clares, who were then established in that place. With the aid of two other ladies, she purchased a small frame building, and opened a school for girls. The provisional rules of the house were those of the Visitation order established by St. Francis of Sales ; but it was not until the year 1816 that the sisters were recognised by the Sovereign Pontiff as a community of the Visitation rule. In that year Archbishop Neale obtained for them the privilege of taking the solemn vows of the order. The ladies of the institution have always conducted a female academy. Several foundations have been made from this very NOTES. 473 osefn* establishment, which had ri.en to a high degree of pros- perity. At Baltimore, St. Louis, Mobile, Wheeling, Frederick, and Washington City, are flourishing academies under the direction of the sisters of the Visitation. Another foundation was recently made at Mt. De Sales, near Catonsville, about five miles from Baltimore, which promises by its admirable situation to attain a high degree of prosperity. The society of Clarists, mentioned atove, continued in Georgetown until the year 1805. The superior died about that time, and the two remaining members returned to Europe. While here, they taught a school as a means of support ; but they suffered much from poverty. On one occasion they were so much pressed for want of the neces- saries of life that they were obliged to sell a parrot to procure food. (16) p. 269. The Rt. Rev. Dr. Cheverus was consecrated Bishop of Boston, on the 1st of November, 1810, by the Most Rev. Archbishop Carroll, in St. Peter's Cathedral, Baltimore. The Sovereign Pontiff Pius VIL had raised Baltimore to the rank of a Metropolitan See on the 8th of April, 1808, creating at the same time four suffragan bishoprics, New Fork, Philadelphia, Boston, and Bardstown. The Rev. Luke Concannon, a Dominican, was appointed to the first; Rev. Michael Egan, a Franciscan, to the second ; Rev. John Cheverus, a secular priest, to the third; and Rev. Benedict J. Flaget, a Sulpitian, to the fourth. The apostolic letters, however, by which these important arrangements were made for the ad- vancement of religion in the United States, did not arrive until two years after, owing to the difficulties arising from the troubled state of Europe Dr. Concannon never reached his see, having died at Naples, in July, 1810, on the eve of his departure for America. Bishop Egan was consecrated in St. Peter's Cathedral, on the 28th of October, of that year, by the Most Rev. Dr. Carroll, and on the 4th of November Bishop Flaget was consecrated by the same pre- late, in St. Patrick's Church on Fell's Point* On the latter oc- casion Bishop Cheverus preached, and paid a well-merited com- pliment to the venerable metropolitan, and to the society of Si. * That Bishop Flaget was consecrated in St. Patrick'* Church appear* from UM printed documents of that time. 40* J74 NOTES. SulpiHus He saluted the former "8 the Elias of the new law, the fathot of the clergy, the conf is a promise, deliberately made to God, of doing something that is good or more agreeable to him. As a promise, it differs from a mere resolution, and induces an obligation under sin of fulfilling what has been promised. "If thou hast vowed any thing to God, defer not to pay it ; for an unfaithful and foolish promise displeaseth him." Eccl. v. 3. That vows are agreeable to God is plain from innumerable passages of the Old Testament ; and in the New we read of St. Paul that he had a vow Acts rviii. 18 ; and the same apostle, speaking of widows who had bound themselves to chastity, says : " Having damnation, because they made void their first faith:" 1 Tim. v. 12. Vows, when prudently and lawfully made, are beneficial, by fixing the inconstancy of our mind and placing us under the necessity of doing good. They also perfect the offering we make to God ; for, by a vow we give him not only the action we perform, but also cur liberty in regard to it. A simple vow is a promise made to God without any solemnity recognised by the Church. A solemn vow implies the tradition an j consecration of oneself to the Divine service according to a pre- scribed form, and in the name of God accepted by the Church. Thii latter vow is made when a person enters into holy orders, or when he makes a religious profession in an order approved by the Churc h. The solemnity of a vow, according to the more common opinion of NOTES. 477 theologians, is determined by the canon law, which requires for this end the following conditions: 1. That the religious order in which the vow is made be approved by the Church as perfectly regular ; 2. That the vow be accepted by the proper superior in the name of the Church ; 3. That there be an absolute tradition and ac- ceptance of the entire person, by the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; 4. That the person making the vows have com- pleted the sixteenth year of his age and one year of his noviceship. Concil. Trident, sess. 25, ch. 15 de Regul. See Bouvier, Inti'A. Theolog., vol. iv. p. 286, &c. He who binds himself by solemn vows cannot validly marry, pod- eess property, &c. ; but this inability is not contracted by him who makes a simple vow ; he is only obliged, under pain of sin, not to marry, &c. (20) p. 330. One morning during Whitsun-week, Mother Seton, being on he* way to the infirmary, where one of the sisters was sick, was met by a pupil who presented her a rose. Finding the invalid in a slumber, and unwilling to disturb her, she placed the flower near her, and then left the room. The sister soon after awoke, and, perceiving the rose, she sat up in her bed and penned the following lines, which she sent to Mother Seton: " The morning was beautiful, mild, and serene ; All nature had waked from repose ; Maternal affection came silently in And placed near my bosom a rose. " Poo? nature was weak, and had almost prevailed The weari6d eyelids to close ; But the soul rose in triumph, and joyfully hailed The sweet queen of flowers the rose. " Whitsuntide was the time, 'twas the season of love | Methought the Blest Spirit had chose To leave for a while the sweet form of a dove And come in the blush of the rose. "Come, heavenly Spirit, descend on each brraat, And there let thy blessings repose, As thou once did on Mary, the temple of reet, for Mary's our mystical rote. i73 NOTES. " Oh, may every rose that springs forth evermore Enkindle the hearts of all those Who wear it or see it, to bless and adore The hand that created the rose !" (21) p. 334. Alluding to those who commenced this benevolent work, the irritei m the Catholic Herald says : " It is impossible, at this distant period, to furnish the names of all the gentlemen who are entitled to the honor of having originated this charity ; but it is known that James 0. Ellus was then an active participant, and for many years an earnest co-operator, in the under- taking. The orphans whose protection they assumed were for some time boarded with a person with whom an arrangement to that effect had been made; and much difficulty was frequently experienced, from the limited number of contributors, in providing the means requisite for their support. " In the year 1806, a meeting consisting of not more than six gentlemen was held in the Little Chapel of St. Joseph's, with the object of more perfectly organizing the association which had been formed. Among them were John F. Soares, and Joseph Eck, who was subsequently the first secretary of the Board. The writer did not attend that meeting, but was at the next succeeding meeting, and was then enrolled among the founders of that institution. On the 18th of December, 1807, an act of incorporation was obtained, and the house on Sixth Street, northerly adjoining Holy Trinity Church, was rented from Adam Primmer, for the use of the insti- tution, where it was continued till recently, when the spacious build- ng at the corner of Seventh and Spruce Streets was erected by the Managers. It appears, from a report written by the Most Rev. Archbishop Hughes in March, 1830, who was then a member of the Board of Managers of this institution, that in the year 1811 tie house and lot where the asylum then stood were purchase 1> and cost, including subsequent improvements, $6,927.28." (22) p. 347. These collections of sentences were called "virtue-books," and were in use among th members of a pious community composed NOTES. 473 of some of the pupils. A virtue was selected every day by each ore s the object of her particular attention, and in the evening she examined how far she had succeeded or failed in the practice of it. The following is a specimen of those collections "The spring is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in on* grove. Arise, my love, and come away ! Hasten to the arms of ycur Jesus, and fear nothing. Divine Union and Repose. " Do you love ? Have no other will but that of your Beloved. Abandon yourself to him, and cast all your care upon him. He has Brute* was relieved from that portion of hit arduous duty. A few years after, in 1834, he was consecrated the first Bishop of Vincennes, and entered upon a new field of labor. His situation at the commencement of his administration, and the success that attended his exertions for the good of re- ligion, are thus described by the Rev. Dr. McCaffrey : " At Viacennes he found himself in the most trying oircun.- stances. He was a stranger, poor and alone. He law around 41 2t 498 NOTES. him little more than the wreck of the Catholic faith and disci- pline of the original settlers. Looking abroad, he beheld indeed an immense field for labor ; but the ground was almost unbroken. Everything was to be commenced, and all was .to be effected by himself. Destitute as he was of every human means of, success, he applied with courage to his allotted task, and while he freely exposed himself to ' the heat and burthen of the day,' he prayed with fervor and confidence to the ' Lord of the harvest, that He would send laborers into his harvest.' In less than eight months he had travelled more than a thousand miles on horseback, over roads almost impracticable ; had visited every part of his exten- sive diocess, and was as familiar with the minutest circumstan- ces regarding its missions and those of the West in general, as if the whole of his valuable life had been devoted to them exclusively. He then proceeded to Europe to procure the suc- cors which he needed. More than twenty missionaries accom- panied him on his return, and he obtained from the charity of our Catholic brethren in the old world, considerable resources for establishing schools, building churches, founding an asylum for destitute orphans, and celebrating the holy mysteries with becoming dignity. . . . There was no station in his diocess which he did not visit repeatedly. At home he was at once the Bishop, the pastor of the congregation, the Professor of Theology, the father of his family (for so he always designated his ecclesias- tics), the benefactor of the poor, and the affectionate friend of all. In a short time he had opened a college, established at his own expense a free school, and founded another for girls to- gether with an orphan asylum, under the superintendence of the Sisters of Charity. In order to carry on these various schemes of beneficence, and actuated by a spirit of humility and self-denial, he submitted to many privations which his declining health could ill sustain. The Bishop, clergy, seminarians and scholars of the college occupied the same house, took their meals in the same refectory, and in every respect constituted but one family. He reserved no privileges to himself; he would have no advantages or comforts which he could not share with all. Ilia labors were so multifarious and burthensome, that they would scarcely be credible to those who did not know his wonderful activity of mind and powers of tndurance. In addition to the NOTES. 499 occupations I have already mentioned, he taught theology in his seminary, gave lessons in French in one of his academies, furnished a large amount of historical and antiquarian informa- tion to the literary societies of Vincennes, wrote twice a month to every priest in his diocess, and maintained an extensive cor- respondence with almost every part of Europe and America. It is but a short time since he took possession of his Episcopal See. He found a single priest and but two or three churches in his diocess. He has left twenty-three missionaries in it, and in every town almost, besides many stations in country places, a temple has risen or is rising up to the honor of the living God." * This man of God, whose motto was to " spend and be spent himself" for the salvation of souls, terminated his valuable life (too short, alas!) on the 28th of June, 1889, aged sixty yeara. (40) p. 438. The following is the inscription on the church* Omnipotent!. Deo. Sacrum. Pnellse. Charitatls. In honorem. Josephl. Sancta. Qenitricls. BponiL JSdem. a. solo. sua. impensa. factam. Et collati tla. cultornm. stipe, erectam. Libentee. rnerito. Dedicarunt. ' XIV. Kalendas. Aprilis. Anno. M. D. CCC. The word dedicarunt in this inscription, must have been intended to signify the offering made to God of the building, at the time of laying the corner-stone ; for the above-mentioned date is that of blessing the first stone, not that of the consecration of the church. The expression of this latter date would be, II Nonas Maii, Anno M D. CCC. XLL * Discourse on the Rt. Rev. Simon Gabriel Brute, by the Ber. John McCaffrey, D. D., delivered at Mt. St. Mary'* Church. The reader te referred to this oratloa ai an eloquent and impnwiT* sketch of the character and labon of that di Unguuhed man. 500 HOTBE. (41) p. 439. The bell which hangs in the steeple of St. Joseph's Church, it one of the many articles of this description which were brought to this country from Spain during the ascendency of Espartero, when human progress found another illustration, so common with our political radicals, in the spoliation of the Church and her holy institutions. Several of these bells were for sale in Baltimore, and in the selection of one of them for the sisterhood at Emmetts- burg, a singular coincidence presented itself which deserves to b recorded. In order to judge of the tones of the different bells, the Rev. Thomas R. Butler, agent of the institution, stationed himself at some distance from the place where they were sus- pended. They were now rung one after the other, and were distinguished by the numerical order in which they were sounded. Mr. Butler having chosen one that appeared to him adapted to the purpose, found upon examination of the inscription which it bore, that it had been cast in the year 1809, the very period at which the sisterhood was established at Emmettsbnrg ; also, that it had been dedicated in honor of St. Joseph, who was the chief patron of the institution and chapel in the Valley ! Thus, at the very time that St. Joseph's community was commencing there, a bell was prepared for it in a far distant land, with an appropriate inscription, and destined to be brought hither, after thirty-two years, upon the completion of the sacred edifice that was to receive it. But St. Peter tells us, " that one day with the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as on* day." 2 Peter, iiL 8. (42) p. 446. As we have already stated, the Rev. Mr. David accompanied Bishop Flaget to Kentucky in 1811, and among the happy re- sults of his labors in the West for the good of religion, was the institution of the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth. In 1812 the ecclesiastical seminary of St. Thomas was commenced and placed under his direction. The duties of these two institutions did not prevent him from giving all due attention to the wants of the congregation at Bardstown, which was also under his charge. He still continued these various services after his elevation U the episcopacy in 1819, when he was consecrated Bishop of NOTES. 601 Mauricastro inpartibu* and coadjutor of the Rt. Rev. Dr. Flagei. He presided over the Society of Nazareth with wisdom and sn J- cesB, for the space of twenty years. But the infirmities which he suffered, obliged him at an advanced age to retire in a great measure from these various labors. In his retirement he trans- lated some pious works, and spent much of his time in prayer, meditation, and preparation for death. Thus did he render hit days full in the sight of God, and dispose himself for the sum- mons that called him from life. His death took place on the 12th of June, 1841. For a more particular account of Bishop David, see Sfalcfui / Kentucky, by Dr. Spalding. (48) p. 466. A ihort time after Mother Ann Simeon had pronounced her holy TOWS, she once, in the fulness of her heart, gave expression to her feelings, and penned the subjoined touching stanzas : TO JESUS IS THE BLESSED SACRAMENT Jem, my Saviour, my heart's only treasure, Thy beauty has won me, I long to be thine ; Ho longer can aught to this bosom give pleasure But to say with the spouse, My Beloved ii mine With thy favorite, John, to repose on thy bosom, Forgetful of all save thy presence so dear ; To know dearest Jesus, that thou art my portion, And thus in the bliss of thy spouses to share. And oh ! what a pledge of thy love thou hast given, Thyself on our altars by night and by day ; T if here that we find a sure foretaste of heaven, A glimpse of that glory which ne'er will decay. For when, dearest Jesus, before thee I 'm kneeling, Thy angels are 'round, thy Spirit descends, And my soul, quite absorbed, seems to lose every feelinf But that of thy presence, while lowly she bends- 602 NOTES. (44) p. 456. William H Stokes, M. D., in his thirty-fifth annual report of Mt. Hope Retreat, says : " The location of Mt. Hope Retreat is itself exceedingly favor* able to health. It is situated on a broad extended plateau, near six hundred feet above tide, and its surrounding grounds afford rare facilities for drainage. Then again, in all the hospital arrangements, the strictest regard is paid to hygienic considera- tions, such as good ventilation, plenty of light, an abundant supply of good water, and special attention to proper tempera* ture throughout the building; and as contributing, in no small measure, to the favorable results flowing from the strict ob- servance of these sanitary measures, the thorough cleanliness maintained in every part, the comfortable beds conducing to sound, regular sleep, and a generous supply of food, exert an influence which we will find it difficult to estimate. At the close of the last year, there were in the Retreat three hundred and one patients one hundred and thirty-four males, and one hun- dred and sixty-seven females. During the year 1877, one hun- dred and two have been admitted, or thirty-seven males and sixty-five females, making a total number of four hundred and three nnder treatment one hundred and seventy-one malei mod two hundred and thirty-two females." NOTES. 503 (45) p. 469. GENERAL STATISTICS Of the Sisters of Charity of the Province of the United States for the Tear 1878. Name of Place. Name qf Establishment. 5j f J | | | School Children. Poor visited and assisted. Albany, N. Y Albany, N. Y St. Vincent's Asylum.. St. Joseph's School 9 9 209 Albany N Y St. John's School.. 6 1?0 Albany N Y 7 IS? Alton 111 ft 99 St. Vincent's Hospital. 16 ftn 56 403 1? 224 Baltimore, Md St. Mary's Asylum 11 6 139 175 St John's School 12 325 Baltimore, Md St. Vincent's School.... 11 8 300 ?40 Baltimore, Md St. Vincent's Inf. Asy.. 9 '47 262 52 51 1? 170 Boston, Mass Carney Hospital 14 MS 1ft 10 Buffalo, N.Y Buffalo N Y St. Vincent's Asylum.. 1 1 1 PS]., of Sis of Charity 11 IS 130 1179 Buffalo N. Y 8 ?07 & in Buffalo, N. Y 9 174 Bouligny, La Chicago 111 St. Vincent's School.... 4 8 4M Chicago, 111 Chicago 111 St. Patrick's School 10 9 290 360 7 30 70 St Mary's School 4 84 Dorchester, Mass... Detroit, Mich St. Mary's Infant Asy. St. Vincent's Asylum.. 6 8 8 i28" 240 37 500 Detroit Mich 11 06 Detroit, Mich Donald8onville,La. House of Providence... St. Vincent's House.... 6 9 194 101 65 1000 4 140 Emmittsburg, Md. Day - School on the Academy premises (for children of the f, 40 Evansville, Ind St. Mary's Hospital 6 4 360 107 E. Saginaw, Mich.. Keokuk, la St. Vincent's Or. Home St. Vincent's School.... 3 7 27 1?fi La Salle, 111 Lowell, Mass St. Vincent's School.... St. Peter's House 4 6 g 4 "256 150 110 Charitable Institution lf> 31 202 8 501 8 100 300 130 Milwaukee, Wis... St. Joseph's Asylum.... St. Mary's Hospital 8 A 25 382 Milwaukee, Wis... St. Vincent's Inf. Asy. 8 40 * Connected with this Academy thi r alto 101 boardsn. 504 NOTES. GENERAL STATISTICS (Continued.) Name of Place. Name of Establishment. i I S J Widows. * ! School Children] 760 60 435 2531 Mobile, AU St. Mary's Asylum ProTidence Infirmary- City Hospital ... 10 6 g 12 109 100 89 237 177 106 116 175 114 200 227 160 422 150 80 299 150 71 120 140 260 135 260 230 100 43 7333 Mobile, Ala. Mobile, Ala 91 686 Mobile, Ala. St. Vincent's School.... ft Natchez, Miss Natchez, Miss New Orleans, La... New Orleans, La... New Orleans, La... St. Mary's Asylum St. Joseph's School Charity Hospital 11 6 26 7 10 71 6748 "679 2 St. Joseph's School Hotel Dieu New Orleans, La... New Orleans, La... New Orleans, La... New Orleans, La... New Orleans, La... Norfolk, Va. N. Orleans F. Orp- Asy. St. Vincent's Inf. Asy.. St. Simeon's School St. Eliz. H.of Indns'y. 13 12 16 18 11 131 'l57 269 134 Hosp. of St. V. of Paul St. Mary's Asylum St. Joseph's Hospital.. St. Joseph's Asylum... St. Vincent's Home 13 6 13 8 9 613 Norfolk, Va. Philadelphia, Pa... Philadelphia, Pa... Pkiladelphia, Pa... Petaluma, Cal Petersburg, Va Portsmouth, Va.... Richmond, Va Richmond, Va Rochester, N. Y.... Reading, Pa San Francisco,Cal. San Francisco.Cal. San Francisco,Cal. Santa Barbara. Ca!. Santa Cruz, Cal St. Louis, Mo- St. Louis, Mo St. Louis, Mo.. 32 "234 166 688 St. Vincent's School.... 6 A 5 St. Joseph's Orp. Asy.. St. Patrick's School.... 13 A 83 16 602 10 St. Catharine's Asy R. Catholic Orph. Asy. Mount St. Joseph's St. Vincent's School 4 18 11 14 40 290 220 61 9 St.Vincent's Institut'n Sch. of the Holy Cross. St. Mary's Asylum St. Ann's Asylum St. Philomena's School 10 9 10 13 13 1? 60 16 154 '"84 306 111 26 St. Louis, Mo- St. Louis, Mo St. Louis, Mo H. of the Guard. Angel St. Louis' Hospital 8 ?0 68 809 288 St.Vincent's Institut'n St Joseph's School 19 4 St. Joseph, Mo Stauntou, Va Syracuse, N. Y Syracuse, N. Y Troy, N.Y Trov, N.Y St Francis' School 4 St. Vincent's Asylum.. St. Joseph's House of 11 8 8 6 11 12 11 6 6 15 12 10 4 9 ft 141 140 186 80 St. Vincent's Asylum.. St. Vincent's Asy. Sch. Troy Hospital St. John's Asylum St. Mary's School St. Mary Louise's Hosp School Im. Conception St. Vincent's Orp. Asy. Providence Hospital... St. Ann's Asylum St. Rose's Indus'l Sch.. St. Peter's School St Vincent's School Troy, N.Y Utica N.Y "124 91 426 Virginia City,NeT. Virginia City,Nev. Washington, D. C.. Washington, D. C.. Washington, D. C.. Washington, D. C.. Washington, D. C.. Wilmington, Del... Whistler, Ala. 194 1046 16 "l31 '"27 54 "l28 3576 125 17587 TOTALS No. of EptablisbniPnts, 106 1170 17S() 1096 26,030 Sisters of Charity are employed in works of charity throughout the world. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A 001 030 844 3