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But the individual most changed was to see, in the altered state, sinking frame, and Catherine:

Catherine's earthly lover was now tacitly forbidden the house. The Holy and seraphic Maid was no fit object of an earthly love. The slang of people, whether Papist or Protestant, who are in this condition, is well hit off in the subjoined speech made by Catherine's mother, whose vanity in having given birth to so bright a Saint, was now boundless. She was recommending a wife to her saintly daughter's dejected lover, and mentioned several young ladies:

disturbed slumbers of his young penitent, nothing but the workings of the Divine Spirit, strongly "Her manner was strange and fantastic. Whenever the subject mentioned before her had opposed the intervention of an earthly power, no reference to religion, she either sat abstract proposed his own aid--a measure joyfully ac ed, with folded hands and uplifted eyes, the cepted, and, finally, established himself as a image of pious meditation, or testified, by fret-constant visitor at the house of the Cadières." ful tones, her impatience of the topic. Instead, however, of listening with lively interest-as might naturally enough have been concludedwhen religious discourse was introduced, she was restless and dissatisfied until she had the lead in the conversation. Then she would break out in the most flighty rhapsodies about visions and martyrdoms, saints and devils, temptations and submissions; in short, her language was mystic, and her ideas confused. She assumed a loftiness, a triumph in look, word, and action that seemed plainly to intimate her consciousness of angel wings fast growing and spreading around her, shortly to waft her to the world of fleecy clouds above, which alone now filled her mind waking or sleeping. Her feet scarcely touched the earth when she walked; a painter must have been struck with the light buoyancy of her figure when in motion. so dreamy was its grace, and he might have bor"I thought Mademoiselle Raymond gave full rowed inspiration from the heaven-wrapt ex satisfaction to the directors of her conscience?" pression of her countenance. "The Fathers Carmelite! Lukewarm, drowsy She delighted now in the society of none but set, as they are--Catherine's soul languished bethose who, like herself, were under Father Gineath their care, like a flower in the shade. No rard's direction. The intimacy of these young warming up-no elevating--they understood ladies, but lately differing so much from cach nothing. felt and saw nothing-they would rather other in temper, taste, and prospects, was-to have turned away my Catherine from the gloriborrow their own quaint, exaggerated style of ous path she is about to tread, than, like Father expression-a bond of union; they were but as Girard, borne her onward in it with a mighty one in submission and love to Heaven and Fa-hand." ther Girard, and through him and with him, of Heaven's elect. It was, indeed, clear enough

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"There remains, it is true, that half-pagan, half-heretic, Mademoiselle Raymond," she continued, with a frown," she has plenty of money to make one forget her uncomeliness; but ah! what can eface the uncomeliness of the heart that comes not unto God?"

The plain featured, but handsome, sensito the meanest comprehension, that he was the ble, kind, and excellent Mademoiselle Raycorner-stone of this alliance; for they met, as it seemed, merely for the pleasure of talking of mond, glided by degrees into the warmest him, and spent all their powers of figurative lan-affections of the young lawyer, and they guage in the ever-renewed struggle of out-stripping one another in the most fulsome and extravagant adulation of his sanctity!" They were already under his Mesmeric


"The imagination of poor Catherine was fast ripening at the fires of Saint Theresa's extasies of divine love, and Saint Anthony's temptations in the desert-both which, to the reflective mind, must appear but the self-deceits of poor. erring mortals, who had lost their path in life in seeking that to heaven. Her mind naturally weak, yielding, and affectionate, requiring, to maintain its equilibrium, a calm, serene state, was, by this constant effervescence of thought, wearied beyond its power, and in danger of be. ing destroyed altogether. Already her health began to suffer from this feverish excitement: her nights were restless, or visited by the most appalling visions; and her mother, so obtuse in the ordinary matters of life, soon became painfully sensible, by the state of her daughter's nerves, of the necessity of medical assistance. and earnestly consulted Father Girard on the subject. But the rector, who saw, or pretended

were now often drawn together by their common pity and regard for the unhappy Catherine. One day he inquired of Mademoiselle Raymond, with some curiosity, what spell could have been exercised over the female imagination, to attract these young women to so austere and uncomely a person as the Jesuit:

"His very austerity, she said, was, to many women, a charm, Their weakness required a tay, which his severity afforded; their self love was flattered by the importance which he attached to every trifle connected with his penitents; there was a species of voluptuousness in this petty sinning, constant reproof, performance of daily penance, and the necessity of satisfying his exalted notions of righteousness. It was a perpetual excitement, which chased away all languor from the mind, and kept it in unwearied exercise. The divine love, in short, as taught by Father Girard, had in some sort the advantage of an earthly one. It kept its votaries awake."

Mademoiselle Raymond was still unsus

picious of any spells being employed; but It is said that the unfortunate Edward she knew the force of that passion for excitement among unoccupied women, which is often attended by even worse consequences than the excitement of worldly dissipation; as, in attending balls, plays, and operas, no woman fancies she is performing any very meritorious, and much less any exalted religious duty.

The sanctity of Catherine now became the theme of every tongue. There had been a signal revival among all the young ladies of Toulon: bat she was supreme.

"Her visions, too, and celestial colloquies, were much talked of-all crowded the Jesuit's church to obtain a glimpse of this beautiful and holy maid; and Father Girard's reputation spread like a mighty shadow, veiling completely

the radiance of Mount Carmel-at least in Tou-
Jon. .
.. Poor Catherine held on her
course; from visions she passed to miracles, and
grew every day more sick, and more saintly,
drawing towards her all the praise the town
could spare from Father Girard."

About this time Mademoiselle Raymond, unswerving in her attachment to her doom ed friend, forced a visit upon Catherine.

Irving, awaking from his delusions on his death-bed, expressed a desponding doubt which, under such solemn circumstances, amounted to certainty, "that it was all delusion!" In like manner, poor Catherine began to be troubled with doubts about her extatic spiritual condition, and her singular feelings for her confessor, whom she alternately loathed and liked. But here she reveals the secret of his influence, and her own Mesmeric subjugation to the will of her magnetizer.

"He has taught me the holiness of self-abasement--the necessity of sinning in order to repent--of yielding in all things to the will of Heaven, blindly, darkly, with the heart, not with the understanding."

"And he, I suppose," said Eleonore, with a flashing eye and contracted brow--"he is the oracle of that will?”

"Not he alone, he merely expounds it-it is revealed to me in visions, in extacies; and the palpable signs of these supernatural communions remain with me!"

"The palpable signs?--I don't understand you!" said the amazed listener.

"Yes, I can show them to you as I have to my mother and brothers. Look here!" and, removing the hair that clustered over her brow and neck, she exposed to view some rather severe and but recently healed wounds."

Eleonore was mute with surprise.

inflictions with which the devils are permitted "Yes," continued Catherine, "these are the to visit me, during my trances; but do not look ing them--my soul alone is conscious at such so shocked, there is more fear than pain attendtimes, my body lies in a state of torpor that deadens feeling."

"Catherine was reclining, listlessly, on a couch, her head propped up by a deep crimson cushion, which, by its harsh contrast, caused the paleness of her features to be more apparent. At the slight noise caused by Eleonore's entrance she started up in nervous alarm, and on perceiving who was the intruder on her solitude, she became yet more agitated. Uncertainty, hesitation, a sort of reluctant shame, seemed to overwhelm her; but when Eleonore approached with open arms, she threw herself into them, and sobbed aloud on her bosom. Mademoiselle "This is passing strange," said Mademoiselle Raymond gently led her back to the couch, sat by Raymond, as she closely examined the marks her side, and still retaining her hand in hers, with but too real, and cannot well have been selfthus subjected to her observation. the other stroked down her hair with a sooth-inflicted, even in the worst fit of--of-" ing fondness. Her manner was impressed with an eloquence that needed no words; Catherine evidently felt and understood it, for when she could control the vehemence of her first emotion, she said, in a tone of gentle reproach"Oh! Eleonore, why did you leave me for so long, or ever!"

Her friend fancied that poor Catherine felt remorse for having treated her ill, and she tried to soothe her with the kindest expressions of unchanging affection. But she had not touched the true cause of Catherine's grief.

"O! it is not that!" she impatiently exclaimed-" not that which torments me--not of that I would speak! Had I but followed your advice from the first, and never come near that man, or that you had never left me!"

"It was not my choice," gently remonstrated Eleonore; "you must not forget that. Leave Father Girard."

"These are

"Insanity, you would say," added Catherine, oh! I often dread becoming so!" with a mournful smile. "I am not insane--but,

"Do these fits-these trances, come over you by day or by night?"

"Both: they sometimes rouse me from my sleep, but, strange to say, it is but to another sort of slumber--a numbness steals over my frame whilst my mind wakens to activity."

"You describe but the state of dreaming, which is common to all," remarked Eleonore.

"Aye," resumed her companion, "but dreams do not extend to the waking moments. This phenomenon overtake me when I least expect itwhilst talking or walking--even at meals."

"I have read of people being drugged into a forced sleep," said Eleonore, thoughtfully.

"But Father Girard gives me nothing, nor is he always present at such times. When he is, my slumber is more peaceful, and I feel more tranquil on waking. In his absence, the fits are torture; and on their leaving me, I am totally exhausted."

"If you do not attribute these accidents to Father Girard, how do you account for them unto yourself and others?" demanded Eleonore, who was desirous to sift the matter to the bottom, and to probe her friend's feelings to the uttermost, before venturing on advice, or even on conclusions.

After a time, her beatific visions completely changed their character.

"I had already had many visions of a mystic and holy character, all of a nature to flatter my inordinate vanity; but now came one predicted by Father Girard, in which I was told I should "I have already told you, I sometimes fancy be possessed for more than a year by evil spirits, he has charmed me; but am more often in to whom the power of tormenting me should be clined to think myself, like Saint Theresa, one given, in order that a soul in much pain should of those elected to suffer and to love, and unto be freed from purgatory. From that time, my whom mysteries are revealed in visions-trances have changed their heavenly form,through whom and upon whom miracles are wrought."

"This is a most extraordinary delusion," observed Eleonore, carried away by the feeling of the moment beyond the reserve which it was her desire to maintain until the close of the conference.

foul fiends have haunted me under every shape, and burnt wounds into my flesh, which, upon waking, I still found there. Father Girard told me this was necessary to my soul's weal and to the perfection of my character, as well as implicit blind obedience to him in all things.

"Father Girard must know best. He has forbidden me prayer; saying, that it is not an efficient means of binding myself to God: that has cost me the severest pang of all. But since I have fallen into the power of the spirits of darkness, I can no longer pray, even when I feel most the necessity for so doing. There is a moral impossibility, a clog on my thoughts, a seal on my lips, which all the warm impulses of my heart, and even the force of habit, are inadequate to vanquish. This is one of my greatest torments, which I am sure you, who knew me when the outpourings of my spirits flowed as freely from my lips as water from its source, will be well able to imagine."

"There may be a remedy to all this," said Eleonore, thoughtfully. "Have you thought of none?"

"An unnameable, unaccountable feeling of repulsion at times possessed me, which I could with difficulty control. Well, this was again counteracted by his alternate severity and praise. Thus, even whilst secretly disliking him personally, I derived great benefit from his spiritual guidance. It is remarkable that Marie Langières, Anne Guyol, and all his penitents, have felt exactly like me in this respect. The bright side of my existence--I may even call it its glorious sunshine--was the hope I entertained of treading in the footsteps of the blessed virgins who adorn our church. He taught me to believe myself called to the same path as that of my holy patroness, sweet St. Catherine of Sienna. All the bright dreams of my childhood came back to my heart with renewed freshness. I was like one suddenly transported "Exorcism might afford a relief to my soul, to the summit of a high mountain, whence the and a physician to my enfeebled frame; but it is eye could bathe itself in the blue of the heavens, for my own future weal and glory that all this the green of the valleys, the radiance of the set- should be unflinchingly borne. How high the ting sun. I looked beyond the very heavens, price at which both are bought, none shall ever and I was proud and very happy. My mother know but myself. Oh! Eleonore, conceive, if and brothers also encouraged me in my new you can, what are my feelings; when, in spite vocation, to the utmost of their power. They of all that he can say, I sometimes doubt if my already saw the halo of canonization encircling path is a right one,-dread that I am altogether my brow; but we were all too vain-glorious--I misguided, that Father Girard is the only evil especially. In vain did Father Girard warn spirit which torments me! When that idea me of the dangers of this self-exaltation; nocrosses my brain, I am for hours the prey to thing could damp my glowing ardor; the warn-despairing regrets and the bitterest remorse. ing was overlooked, but the punishment was not Then he comes and talks me over, or barely long in overtaking the fault. One day-I had looks at me for he reads my thoughts at a already been a whole year under his care--he glance, and I repent my miserable guilty breathed gently on my brow, and looked full doubts, so that my soul is ever dark and troubled into my eyes as he did so. From that hour I have as the most tempestuous night." been his slave. He often repeated this form, and each time it drew the chain tighter that bound me to him, until I had no will but his. I could neither act nor feel as I pleased, nor even think. Thus I became, if I may so express it, Here every detail and circumstance of estranged from my own self. Oh!--but you Father Girard's power over his penitents is cannot understand me-indeed. how should referred to the agency afterwards named you? I cannot myself,-this perpetual struggle Mesmerism. Of that principle, a character between my own will and that of another, glid-in the story-the individual, indeed, who ing into my very being, was the dark side of that relates it to a young German officer long period of my existence." after the events-thus argues,

As Catherine thus unbosomed herself to her friend, she became hardly intelligible.

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"It was once clear as a summer morning," said Eleonore, spiritedly; "why should not the mists that obscure it clear up again?"

position of practical magnetism, Mesmer's direc It is worthy of remark, indeed, that in the extions tally so completely with some of the fantastic assertions of the talented secretary of

Charles V., [Cornelius Agrippa,] in his occult a stronger and a weaker mind, while both are philosophy, that on these points, at least, it may yet clothed within their frail human tenements, be said they have treated one and the same sub-liable to be shaken and riven by human passion, ject. And it is a no less remarkable fact, that we shudder and turn away from the picture of every detail which has transpired concerning mental degradation which this subject may Father Girard and his penitents can be referred to our view. to that system, and, in my opinion, to nothing else.


The antagonists of Mesmer have advanced a fact which, if true-as it seems likely enough to be-would bear me out in my supposition of his

You may adduce, and with truth, that by playing upon the mind-especially in youth-science being applicable to this particular case. exalting and debasing it by turns, it is easy, They assert that magnetism is highly prejudiwithout the assistance of any extraneous agency, cial to the health, and, by over-exciting, is apt to to affect the reason, if not actually to destroy its cause the most serious derangements of the equilibrium. You may further urge, and with nervous system,-that the senses are frequently equal truth, that so complete is the power which brought to a state betwixt waking and sleeping, he who wields skilfully the dangerous weapon which can hardly be said to be either, and yet called enthusiasm may obtain over his misera- | partakes of both,--that this unnatural condition, ble victims, it remains no difficult task to sway, in which the intellect is constantly struggling not only their judgment, but their feelings also.betwixt its perceptions of the real and the unIt is, indeed, the knowledge of numerous cases real, is most dangerous alike to mind and body, handed down to us in history, and even still of and that magnetism can produce other consedaily occurrence, in which fanaticism conducts quences as fatal to the sufferer as the convulto crime,--to madness,-even to death, that has sions which are its usual accompaniment. caused me sometimes to hesitate in my conclusions.

Had this, however, been the Jesuit's real hold on Mademoiselle Cadières, it is not likely that she would have struggled so painfully with the influence he exercised over her; she would rather have yielded cheerfully and wholly to it But it is averred by the most experienced writers on the subject of magnetism, that the operator has an unlimited power over the patient, obtained by the concentration of his own thoughts, and their transfusion into the mind of the person subjected to this process, either by means of manipulation, which supposes consent in the party concerned; or by the mere attraction of gaze, and sympathy with surrounding objects submitted to the ordeal of magnetism by the one party, and unconsciously much used by the other; which does not imply connivance. This was the case with Mademoiselle Cadières and all the worthy Father's penitents, who yielded to, or rather suffered by an artifice whose very nature and existence was totally unknown to them.

After this meeting of Catherine and her friend, it was rumored that the Holy Maid was about to retire to a convent and take the veil. Such was the fiat of the Jesuit. The seducer willed to immure his victim; and when dragged to the convent, the care of the soul of the beautiful saint-the Holy Maid-still occupied so much of his time, that his other fair penitents became jealous and discontented because they saw so little of him. Catherine was meanwhile rapidly advancing towards canonization.

Serious rumors now began to circulate about miracles having been wrought upon Catherine, visibly and palpably impressing her with the sign-manual of special election; and they soon became not only universally discussed, but credited in every circle, drawing the attention of the clergy and the great, in a marked manner, towards the convent. At Ollioules, as at Toulon, Catherine had trances, extasies, When once affinity is established between and fits, of a character that almost bordered on the master and the patient, or victim, as the epilepsy. At other times, she seemed to walk, case may be, that strange psychological phe- talk, and exist, like one in a perpetual dream. nomenon takes place, of which I have often read The miracles spoken of had indeed wrought visin works on magnetism, but which I have never ibly on her person. She received the communwitnessed, or even heard of in real life, exception, and confessed almost daily with Father in the case of Mademoiselle Cadières,-I mean that state of high exaltation of the nerves, which permits spirit to commune with spirit without the grosser intervention of the organs of speech, -when the half-formed thought is met by a corresponding thought, and the unspoken, unspeakable feelings are, at once, conveyed to a heart that throbs,--that must throb with sympathy;a communion so full of harmony that, when we first contemplate its nature, we are excusable in believing it to belong to spheres and to beings of a higher order than ourselves, and the little world that contains us; but when we bethink ourselves of the further consequences of this latitude, and perceive that the will of man, the noblest, holiest of his attributes, is also to be enchained by the same mysterious link between

Girard; and the fame of her sanctity spread far and wide over the country, so that priests and laics, grandees and beggars, devotees of all classes, ages, and sexes, were daily entreating admittance to this new saint, of whom the strange fact is recorded, that she could read the thoughts, and guess the ailings or troubles, of those who approached her, before they had even spoken them.

Miraculous cures and heaven-inspired advice was soon reported to have emanated from her, and curiosity attracted even those to see the lovely saint of Ollioules whom credulity did not bring to her shrine.

Fashionable ladies came from Paris and the court to see and listen to the inspired

novice, quite as much excited as are the Parisian ladies at this moment about Mesmerism, and women pretending to clairvoy ance. Catherine's former lover now began to think that in this grand imposture she must herself be the arch-deceiver, and the Jesuit her dupe. He was far from suspecting the atrocity of the priest, and he had not yet wholly ceased to love her. Her friend Eleonore, at this time, magnanimously volunteered to repair to the convent, and bring him a report of the real condition of the prophetess. Eleonore Raymond went and was a witness of many things precisely similar to those exhibitions of clairvoyance which have long been naturalized in France, and which-thanks to the march of mind-may now be witnessed in every considerable town in our own country, at very reasonable cost. Catherine's revelations were, however, more imaginative and poetical; and, unlike the modern oracles, she never failed, which, spite of all the charitable help voluntarily, and involuntarily given, our prophetesses often


The abbess and nuns began to indulge strange worldly suspicions; and, though they durst not question the supernatural powers of the Holy Maid, they fairly wished her out of their house before scandal arose, and begged her spiritual director to take her away. Father Girard still visited her frequently, and claimed the privilege of being left for hours shut up with his penitent. He now saw the necessity of with drawing her to another and more remote convent, in which the rule was much more austere than among the kind nuns with whom the unhappy girl had performed her noviciate. She, however, found means to send a note to her mother, imploring to be taken home, else she would perish! When visited at this time, she was found by her two faithful friends, now betrothed lovers, apparently dying, her person meagre and neglected, her beauty despoiled, her mind shattered, or utterly crushed and prostrate. She acknowledged that she would like to go home, if Father Girard would allow her -but he never would. "Exert your own will," said her friend.

"Why should this redoubted Jesuit wish to immure you here, or anywhere else?"

Because he wishes my speedy death now he has ceased to like me; that is why he wishes me to go to Saletta. He may cheat others with fair words, but from me he cannot hide his thoughts."

"I dare say you know him thoroughly. But knowing him and his purposes well, why not defeat them?"

"I may not," muttered the novice, with a slight shudder.

"Then why write to your mother to take you away?"

"I don't know," was the disconsolate answer. "If Father Girard be persuaded to let you go,-if he gave his free consent, what then?" "Then-then I should be saved!" exclaimed Catherine, with some vivacity. "But, no: he never will consent!"

"He must have strange reasons for this insistance, Catherine."

"Of course he has. It would never do if the

world at large were to learn that he is a magician-a sorcerer-and has bewitched me! But the lady abbess and all this community know it, and do not approve of my vocation, nor of him, -that is why I am to be withdrawn hence."

Catherine was brought home, suffered of the Carmelites; but at length she was severely, and was tortured by the exorcisms emancipated from the Mesmeric influences of the Jesuit, who, when the truth came out, was, through the intrigues of the jeal ous Carmelites, brought to trial for sorce"y, seduction, and Quietism. This charge was met by the Jesuits, by that of Cathewho had deceived her spiritual director; rine having been a sacrilegious impostor and it was rumored that the Bishop was about to prosecute her and her family for conspiracy, and for the defamation of Father Girard the Jesuit.

This news was the more startling, that it was well known throughout all coteries and classes that Catherine was no more of an impostor than any of the other young females who had come been alike seduced from the path of innocence within the fangs of the wily priest; that all had and honor, many of whom were even more unfortunate in the consequences of their fault than poor Catherine. All these were facts too well established to be disputed; and public opinion. altogether flowed in her favor.

The singular trial was one of interest in People came all the way from Paris to atFrance, equal to that of Madame Laffarge. of the novices were important witnesses tend it. The Lady Abbess and the mother for Catherine, and so were her young companions, the other victims of the Jesuit; while the Jesuits did every thing that money or intrigue could effect, to screen their fallen brother from conviction.

They were moving heaven and earth; exhausting at once their credit and their treasury, to save a wretch whom it would have been wiser, cheaper, more honest, to have left to the justice of his countrymen. The most shameless and persevering corruption was tried upon the witnesses. Some, whom promises could not seduce, were intimidated by threats-anonymous letters were despatched to those who could not

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