Purgatory - Mary Anne Madden Sadlier (best e reader for epub TXT) 📗

his soul, in accordance with a wish which he had expressed. When the family was residing at the castle of Henbach on the Maine, it was this lady's habit to spend a short time every evening in the private chapel. After one of those visits, about three months after the prince's death, she retired to rest, and in the course of the night had a singular dream. She was in the chapel, kneeling in a tribune; opposite to her was the high altar. She had spent some time in prayer, when suddenly, on the steps of the altar, she saw the tall figure of the deceased prince, kneeling with great apparent devotion. Presently he turned towards her, and in his usual manner of addressing her, said: "Dear child, come down to me here in the chapel; I want to speak to you." She replied that she would gladly, but that the doors were all locked. He assured her that they were all open. She went down to him, taking her candle with her. When she came near him, the prince rose to meet her, took her hand, and, without speaking, led her to the altar, and they both knelt down together. They prayed for some time in silence, then he rose once more, and standing at the foot of the altar, said: "Tell my children, my dear child, that their prayers and yours are heard. Tell them that God has accepted the
Via Crucis [1] which they have daily made for me, and your prayers also. I am with God in His glory, and I will pray for all those who have so faithfully prayed for me." As he spoke, his face seemed lighted up as with the glory usually painted round the head of a saint. With a farewell look he vanished, and she awoke.

[Footnote 1: Way of the Cross, more commonly called the Stations of the Cross.]

At breakfast she appeared agitated. She sat beside the prince's granddaughter, Princess Adelaide Löwenstein, afterwards married to Don Miguel of Portugal. This lady asked her what was the matter. She related her dream, and then begged to know what prayers the princesses had offered for the repose of his Highnesses' soul. They were the
Via Crucis . - Footsteps of Spirits . [1]

[Footnote 1: Published by Burns & Lambert of London.]


STRANGE INCIDENTS.

When the Benedictine College at Ampleforth, in Yorkshire, was building, a few years ago, one of the masons attracted the attention of the community by the interest which he took in the incidents of their daily life. He had to walk from a village three miles off, so as to be at the college every morning by six o'clock. He was first much pleased with the regularity of the community, whom he always found in the church, singing the Hours before Mass, on his arrival in the morning. By degrees he was taught the whole of the Catholic doctrine, and was received into the Church. None of his family, however, would follow his example. Exposure to cold and wet brought on an illness, of which he died, in a very pious manner. A short time after his death, his wife was one morning sweeping about the open door of her house, when her husband walked in, and sat down on a seat by the fire, and began to ask her how she did. She answered that she was well, and hoped he was happy where he was. He replied that he was, at that time; that, at first, he had passed through Purgatory, and had undergone a brief purification; but that, when this was ended, he had been taken to the enjoyment of the bliss of God in heaven. He remained talking to her some little time longer, then he bade her farewell, and disappeared.

The woman applied to a Catholic priest for instruction; and it was found that, although she had never in her life read a Catholic book, nor conversed about the Catholic religion with any one, she had acquired a complete knowledge of the doctrine of Purgatory from that short interview with her husband. She, too, became a Catholic. The author was told this story by one who was a member of the community of Ampleforth at the time.

A missionary priest at B - - (in England), a very few years ago, promised to say Mass for a woman in his congregation who had died. Among other engagements of the same kind, he unconsciously overlooked her claim upon him. By and by her husband came to him, and begged him to remember his promise. The missionary thought that he had already done so. "Oh! no, sir," the man replied; "I can assure you that you have not; my poor wife has been to me to tell me so, and to get you to do this act of charity for her." The priest was satisfied of his omission, and immediately supplied it. Soon after, the poor man returned to thank him, at the woman's desire. She had told her husband that now she was perfectly happy in heaven; her face, which had appeared much disfigured at her first visit, was surrounded with a halo of light when she came again. This anecdote reached the author through a common friend of his own and of the missionary.

A similar anecdote is told of a nun in the English convent of Bruges, between thirty and forty years ago. A relation of Canon Schmidt had died in the house, and Miss L - - , another nun, much attached to her, saw her friend one night in a dream. She seemed to come with a serious countenance, and pointed to the Office for the Dead in an office-book, which she appeared to hold in her hand. Her friend was much perplexed, and consulted Miss N - - , a third nun, who suggested that perhaps Miss L - - had not said the Office three times, as usual, for her deceased sister. Miss L - - was nearly sure that she had; but as she had a habit of marking off this obligation as it was discharged, it could be easily ascertained. On examining her private note-book, it turned out that she had not said the three Offices. Miss N - - 's sister, who was educated in the same convent, told the author this little story, and afterwards was good enough to revise his narrative of it. So that this account is virtually her own. Though seeming to have passed through two channels on its way to this book, that is, through the author's memory and his friend's, yet having, submitted to the latter a written memorandum of the narrative, and received and adopted his friend's corrections, the story is as authentic as if it had passed through only one intermediate channel. For there is no doubt that the value of a story diminishes rapidly with every additional hand through which it passes. -
Footsteps of Spirits , 113-14.


A TRUE STORY OF THE "DE PROFUNDIS."

One evening in the month of July, 184 - , a happy group were gathered in the wide porch of a well-known mansion in Prince George's County, Maryland. A little Catholic church had been recently built in the village of L - - by the zealous and wealthy proprietor of "Monticello," and as the means of the newly-formed congregation were too limited to support a resident pastor, one of the Reverend Fathers from Georgetown kindly came out once a fortnight to celebrate Mass and administer the Sacraments. On the eve of the favored Sunday, Doctor J - - took his carriage to the railway station and brought back the Reverend Father named for that week's services; and his visit was always looked for with delight by all the household at Monticello, domestics and children, but by none so much as by three recent converts to our holy faith, who often took occasion to propound to their amiable and learned guest any doubts on religious questions that had arisen during the course of the intervening weeks.

On the evening above mentioned, the priest who came was an Italian Jesuit, the Reverend Father G - - . He held his little audience entranced with a fund of edifying stories and interesting replies to the questions asked. The calm serenity of the night, the gentle, refreshing breeze that came from a neighboring wood of pine-trees, the beautiful glitter of the flitting glow-worm, and the rich perfume wafted from the purple magnolia grandiflora - all added to the enchantment. The doctor broke the charm by saying: "Reverend Father, we shall be obliged to leave early to-morrow morning. The carriage will be ready for you at 6 o'clock."

"Is it a long drive to the church?" asked Father G - - .

"No; only four miles," answered the doctor; "but there will be many confessions to hear and, perhaps, some baptisms to administer; hence, unless the work is begun early, Mass will not be over before 12 o'clock."

"I hope, then," replied the Father, smiling, "that you will not fail to awake betimes."

"As to that," rejoined the doctor, "when I have to arise at any particular time, I recite a De Profundis for the relief of the suffering souls, and I am sure of awaking promptly at he right hour."

"I can easily credit that," said Father G - - .

"It is a pious practice which was recommended to me by the late Dr. Ryder, of Georgetown, when I was at the College," said the host; "and I have never found that any one to whom I taught the practice failed to find it truly efficacious."

"If it would not detain you too long beyond your customary hours," said Father G - - , "I would add to my long list of anecdotes one more on the
De Profundis ."

All present besought the priest to favor them; in truth, the worthy household never wearied of pious conversation.

"It happened," began the good priest, with religious modesty, "that about twenty years ago I accompanied a number of prominent members of our Society who had been summoned to the Mother House, in Rome, on business of importance. The Fathers carried with them precious documents from their several provinces; and, besides the purse necessary to meet their current travelling expenses, certain contributions from churches as Peter's Pence, and donations for the General of the Society. Our way lay across the Apennines, and we were numerous enough to fill a large coach. We knew that the fastnesses of the mountains were infested by outlawed bands, and we had been careful to select an honest driver. Before setting out, it was agreed that we should place ourselves under the protection of the Holy Souls by reciting a De Profundis every hour. At a given signal, mental or vocal prayer, reading or recreation, would be suspended, and the psalm recited in unison.

"Luigi, the driver, had been instructed, in case of any apparent danger, to make three distinct taps on the roof of our vehicle with the heavy end of his whip. We travelled the whole day undisturbed, without other interruptions than those called for by the observance of our itinerary. Just as the evening twilight began, we reached the summit of a lofty mountain. The air was cool, the scenery wild and majestic, and each of us seemed absorbed in the pleasant glimpses of the receding landscapes, when we were startled by three ominous knocks on the roof of our coach. Before we could ask any questions, Luigi had given his horses such blows