CHAPTER VI.
How I Educated Myself.
I Become Superintendent of the Third Floor at St. Vincent's.
In the order of the Sisters of Charity of Providence, the rules restrict the members to certain reading. The books we were allowed to read were those on the Roman Catholic religious practices, such as "Christian Perfection" by the Jesuit, Alphonsus Rodriguez, a set of books on "Meditation" by St. Ignatius, also a Jesuit, a book on the "Conferences of St. Vincent de Paul," a prayer book, a manual of community prayers, and a book of rule. If a sister should wish to read any other books, outside of a few like these I have named, she must have permission from her superior, even to the reading of "The Lives of the Saints."
The reading of secular, or profane, as it is called, books are never allowed under any conditions. No magazines, newspapers or periodicals are they ever allowed to read. If there happened to be an article in some religious magazine or paper that it was decided to let the sisters read, it was cut out and handed to them, hereby having permission to read it. Think of the terrible darkness the poor girls are kept in, with nothing to develop their mental faculties, nothing to read except the few chosen books, and when you have read one you have read all, and this over and over again, year in and year out.
When I came to St. Vincent's Hospital, I had been in the order about twelve years. Twelve years of almost silence; twelve years of Latin prayers; twelve years of communion and confession; twelve years of Roman convent-slavery; twelve years of retrogression.
I found myself almost lost as to how to talk intelligibly to the doctors and patients. My vocabulary was certainly very limited. I felt the grave necessity of doing something to aid me in my work. But how? That was the great question in my mind for some time. I had been taught that God would punish me if I dared to read anything except what I was allowed. And, believe me, even twelve years' experience in the convent had changed my views of Romanism but very little, if any.
Finally, one day while on the daily routine, a newspaper came to my notice, and I dared to read just one line. I waited a day or two to see if God would punish me. Then, when nothing extraordinary happened, I dared to read a few lines more, and I waited a few days again to see what God would do.
At last the opportunity came. In one of the rooms I found a book, by the name of "At the Mercy of Tiberius." I dared to read it, and oh, how I enjoyed that novel. It was the first book of that nature, profane reading, that I had ever read. But trouble was brewing. Some sister had seen me reading, and although she did not know exactly what it was, she knew that it was not a religious book, and she reported me to the superior. When the superior asked me about it, I told her I had been reading a book, where it could be found and offered to go and get it for her. But I had her "bluffed" and she told me to never mind.
It took me about six months to read this first book, as I had to steal away and read for only a few minutes at a time. Where do you suppose I went to do this un-Roman, "un-Christian" act of endeavoring to enlighten my mind? In dark closets, bath-rooms, and in fact any place I could secret myself, so I would not be seen by some of the other sisters. For it would mean a reprimand and very often a penance, and the sister thus charged with having broken this point of the "holy" rules, is held under suspicion.