On April 13th, two months after my reception as a postulant, I took, as a novice, the three conventual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. I would remind those of my readers who may be ignorant of these things, that whilst the vow of obedience is put last in order, yet it is of the first importance. I remember well the day I took these vows. I was attired in white, and wore a bridal veil and wreath. I recollect that another girl (Florence S⸺ by name) stood with me—I should rather say knelt. Together we waited to sacrifice ourselves upon the altar of God,—not by the sacrificial knife, that would be but the work of a few seconds—but by the daily and hourly sacrifice of everything that we loved.
When some of the difficulties and trials of my new life were set before me, I had no fears. I was in a state of high joy at the thought which had been burnt into my soul, viz., that I was espoused to the King of kings, and that I was the Lamb’s bride now and for ever. How could fear ruffle my spirit whilst under this spell? Besides, how should a girl of my age (I was but fifteen at this time) have any notion of what sorrow, and trial, and trouble meant, especially, as was the case with me, when an affectionate mother had lovingly and carefully concealed from me any evils that might come in after years?
The anticipation of any evil in the future seemed, however, to fade into insignificance, since I was uplifted above terrestrial things by—I really know not how best to describe it—by the thought of Him whom I regarded as my heavenly Lover. Never did any girl or woman love her lover or her husband more than I did the Lord Jesus Christ, whose bride I thought myself to be, because I had taken those three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. I sometimes felt as if I must die; so overpowered was I with love that I could scarcely breathe.
Often since that time have I asked myself, “What was it that I so loved?” If it had been the love of the heavenly Bridegroom, that seemed as it were to saturate me, would that sister who knelt at my side on this occasion have been permitted in after years to make my life such a misery to me, that I could no longer live a cloistered life? What or who it was I know not; all I know is that whoever or whatever it was, it obtained possession of my first love—the undivided love of my whole being; but that love is gone, and I do not think I could ever love with the same full, pure, and intense love again. That love, fixed on a lover existing only in the imagination, and impressed on my plastic and youthful mind, carried me through a convent experience lasting for seventeen years. And then it vanished. The illusion was dissipated, the ignis fatuus was quenched, and I was left alone in my misery, and it seemed, for a time, that nowhere could I find the loved one for whom everything and every one had been sacrificed; but better for me was this misery than that fool’s paradise.
But I must return to my story, after this digression, which, however, I hope many youthful readers may peruse and take warning from. My companion and I knelt, as I have mentioned; and thus, upon our knees, we waited for the august ceremony attending ever this mock marriage. All heaven seemed to open, and all of earth seemed to be passing away. I recollect that, after many questions had been put to, and responses made by us, and when sweet words, set to sweeter music, had been sung, there reached our ears some such words as these:
The Bridegroom would have His bride leave father, mother, houses, lands, and all earthly loves, in order that, as the apostle saith, she may be one spirit with Him. My daughter, canst thou do this?
To this we made reply severally:
In His strength I leave all, that I may follow Christ.
Then the reverend Father uttered these words:
Beware, my daughter, before putting thy hand to the golden plough, for cursed shalt thou be if perchance thou lookest back.