her hands toward me with a horrible shriek, and before I could move a step, terrified, and almost paralyzed as I was, she seized my two arms with her hands, with such a terrible force as if my arms had been grasped in a vise. My bones were cracking under her grasp, and my flesh was torn by her nails. I tried to escape, but it was impossible. I soon found myself as if nailed to the wall, unable to move any further. I cried then to the utmost compass of my voice for help. But the living spectre cried still louder: "You have nothing to fear. Be quiet. I am sent by God Almighty and the blessed virgin Mary, to give you a message. The priests whom I have known, without a single excption, are a band of vipers: they destroy their female penitents through auricular confession. They have destroyed me, and killed my female child! Do not follow their example!" Then she began to sing, with a beautiful voice, to a most touching tune, a kind of poem she had composed herself, which I secretly got afterward from one of her servant maids, the translation of which is as follows: "Satan's priests have defiled my heart! O my child! my darling child! From thy place in heaven, dost thou see Thy guilty mother's tears? Canst thou come and press me in thine arms? My child! my darling child! Will never thy smiling face console me?" When she was singing these words, big tears were rolling don her pale cheeks, and the tone of her voice was so sad that »he could have melted a heart of stone. She had not finished her song when I cried to the girl: "I am fainting, for God's sake bring me some water!" The water was only passed to my lips, I could not drink. I was choked, and petrified in the presence of that living phantom! I could not dare to touch her in any way with my hands. I felt horrified and paralyzed at the sight of that livid, pale, cadaverous, naked spectre. The poor servant girl had tried in vain, at my request, to drag her away from me. She had struck her with terror, by crying, "If you such me, I will instantly strangle you!" "Where is Mr. Perras? Where is Mr. Perras and the other servants? For God's sake call them," I cried out to the servant girl, who was trembling and beside herself. "Miss Perras is running to the church after the curate," she answered, and I do not know where the other girl is gone." In that instant Mr. Perras entered, rushed toward his sister, and said, "Are you not ashamed to present yourself naked before such a gentleman?" and with his strong arms he tried to force her to give me up. Turning her face towards him, with tigress eyes, she cried out, "Wretched brother! what have you done with my child? I see her blood on your hands!" When she was struggling with her brother, I made a sudden and extreme effort to get out of her grasp; and this time I succeeded: but seeing that she wanted to throw herself again upon me, I jumped through a window which was opened. She Quick as lightning she passed out of the hands of her brother, and jumped also through the window to run after me. would, surely, have overtaken me; for I had not run two rods, when I fell headlong, with my feet entangled in my long, black, priestly robe. Providentially, two strong men, attracted by my cries, came to my rescue. They wrapped her in a blanket, taken there by her sister, and brought her back into the upper chambers, where she remained safely locked, under the guard of two strong servant maids. The history of that woman is sad indeed. When in her priest-brother's house, when young and of great beauty, she was seduced by her father confessor, and became mother of a female child, which she loved with a real mother's heart. She determined to keep it and bring it up. But this did not meet the views of the curate. One night, while the mother was sleeping, the child had been taken away from her. The awakening of the unfortunate mother was terrible. When she understood that she could never see her child any more, she filled the parsonage with her cries and lamentations, and, at first, refused to take any food, in order that she, might die. But she soon became a maniac. Mr. Perras, too much attached to his sister to send her to a lunatic asylum, resolved to keep her in his own parsonage, which was very large. A room in its upper part had been fixed in such a way that her cries could not be heard, and where she would have all the comfort possible in her sad circumstances. Two servant maids were engaged to take care of her. All this was so well arranged, that I had been eight months in that parsonage, without even suspecting that there was such an unfortunate being under the same roof with me. It appears that occasionally, for many days, her mind was perfectly lucid, when she passed her time in praying, and singing a kind of poem which she had composed herself, and which she sang while holding me in her grasp. In her best moments she had fostered an invincible hatred for the priests whom she had known. Hearing her attendants often speak of me, she had, several times, expressed a desire to see me, which, of course, had been denied her. Before she had broken her door, and escaped from the hands of her keeper, she had passed several days in saying that she had received from God a message for me which she would deliver, even if she had to pass on the dead bodies of all in the house. Unfortunate victim of auricular confession! others could sing the sad words of thy song, "Satan's priest's have defiled my heart, How many CHAPTER XXII. I AM APPOINTED VICAR OF THE CURATE OF CHARLESBOURGH -THE PIETY, LIVES AND DEATHS OF FATHERS BEDARD AND PERRAS. THE HE grand dinner previously described had its natural results. Several of the guests were hardly at home, when they complained of various kinds of sickness, and none was so severely punished as my friend Paquette, the curate of St. Gervais. He came very near dying, and for several weeks was unable to work. He requested the bishop of Quebec to allow me to go to his help, which I did to the end of May, when I received the fol. lowing letter: Char esb ur h, May 25 h, 1834. Rev. r. . Chi iquy: My Dear Sir: My Lord Panet has again chosen me, this year, to ac company him in his episcopal visit. I have consented, with the condition that you should take my place, at the head of my dear parish, during my absence. For I will have no anxiety when I know that my people are in the hands of a priest who, though so young, has raised himself so high in the esteem of all those who know him. Please come as soon as possible to meet me here, that I may tell you many things which wil make your ministry more easy and blessed in Charlesbourgh. His Lordship has promised me that when you pass through Quebec, he will give you all the powers you want to administer my parish, as if you were its curate during my absence. Your devoted brother-priest, and friend in the love and heart of Jesus and Mary, ANTOINE BEDARD. I felt absolutely confounded by that letter. I was so young and so deficient in the qualities required for the high position to which I was so unexpectedly called. I know it was against the usages to put a young and untried priest in such a responsible post. It seemed evident to me that my friends and my superiors had strangely exaggerated to themselves my feeble capacity. In my answer to the Rev. Mr. Bedard, I respectfully remonstrated against such a choice. But a letter received from the bishop himself, ordering me to go to Charlesbourgh, without delay, to administer that parish during the absence of its pastor, soon forced me to consider that sudden and unmerited elevation as a most dangerous, though providential trial, of my young ministry. Nothing remained to be done by me but to accept the task in trembling, and with a desire to do my duty. My heart, however, fainted within me, and I shed bitter tears of anxiety. When entering into that parish for the first time, I saw its magnitude and importance. It seemed, then, more than ever evident to me that the good Mr. Bedard, and my venerable superiors, had made a sad mistake in putting such a heavy burden on my young and feeble shoulders. I was hardly twentyfour years old, and had not more than nine months' experience of the ministry. Charlesbourgh is one of the most ancient and important parishes of Canada. Its position, so near Quebec, at the feet of the Laurentide Mountains, is peculiarly beautiful. It has an almost complete command of the city, and of its magnificent port, where not less than 900 ships then received their precious cargoes of lumber. On our left, numberless ranges of white houses extended as far as the Falls of Montmorency. At our feet the majestic St. Lawrence, dashing its rapid waters on the beautiful "Isle d'Orleans." To the right the parishes of Lorette, St. Foy, St. Roch, etc., with their high church steeples, reflected the sun's glorious beams: and beyond, the impregnable citadel of Quebec, with its tortuous ranges of black walls, its numerous cannon and its high towers, like fearless sentinels, presented a spectacle of remarkable grandeur. The Rev. Mr. Bedard welcomed me on my arrival with Words of such kindness that my heart was melted and my mind confounded. He was a man about sixty-five years of age, short |