At first the community was called the Sisters of S. Joseph; but in 1810, it was agreed to assimilate it to the Congregation of Charity in Europe, and, through the influence of the Rev. F. Flaget, it was hoped that some Sisters might be induced to come from France to take charge of the little community. Owing to the disturbed state of the times, F. Flaget failed to procure the desired aid; but he brought with him the rule of the Sisters, which, having been adopted by the community, was approved by Archbishop Neale, January 17, 1812.
The growth of the new congregation was slow, for many unforeseen difficulties had to be encountered; but having been planted deep in the soil, it gradually grew strong and vigorous, and, when it once commenced to throw out offshoots in every direction, they took root and flourished with wonderful vitality. In 1814, some Sisters were sent to Philadelphia to take charge of the new Catholic orphan asylum; and in 1817, Mother Seton, with Sisters Cecilia O'Conway and Felicité Brady, came to New York, at the request of Bishop Connolly, to superintend a similar institution established by the New York Catholic Benevolent Society. They selected a small frame house on Prince Street, where now stands their noble asylum. How the houses of this illustrious community have multiplied during the last half-century is truly astonishing, and can only be attributed to the help of a Power more than human. Nearly one hundred asylums and hospitals are now under their charge; about the same number of academies and select schools claim their care; free schools and scholars beyond computation enjoy the blessings of their pious instruction; and their convents and establishments dot the country in every direction. In New York alone, where the mother-house of the province is situated at Font Hill, Yonkers, there are attached to it 409 professed Sisters, 92 novices, and 13 postulants, who conduct 72 different establishments in New York, Jersey City, Brooklyn, New Haven, Providence, and Columbia. In Newark, in the mother-house of [pg 373] the diocese, at Madison, N. J., there are 190 members; and in almost every section of the country where Catholicity is at all known, the simple black dress and cape, and the small white collar, of the daughters of S. Vincent de Paul are familiar objects. This congregation, though dating only from March 25, 1634, when Louise de Marillac, widow of Antoine Le Gras, secretary to Marie de Medicis, the first mother of the Daughters of Charity, consecrated her life to God, has now, it is said, more than twenty thousand members throughout the world, all, like their sainted founder, Vincent, unremittingly employed in works of divine charity.
Next in order of usefulness, though not in age, come the Sisters of Mercy. This congregation is of Irish origin, having been founded in Dublin, as late as 1827, by Catharine McAuley, a native of that county. Miss McAuley was born September 17, 1787, of Catholic parents; but they dying when she was quite young, her guardianship was assumed by a Protestant family, who brought her up in their own faith—if faith it may be called; but the girl early developed a remarkable inclination towards Catholicity, and, when of proper age, reunited herself to the church of her fathers. At thirty-four she found herself the possessor of a large fortune bequeathed to her by her adopted father, who had become a Catholic on his death-bed; and this, with all her subsequent life, she resolved to dedicate to the service of the Almighty. She therefore built at her own expense, in the most fashionable part of the city, a magnificent convent, and, associating with herself several other ladies, commenced the work of instruction and the visitation of the sick poor in their homes and in the public hospitals. The Most Rev. Dr. Murray, Archbishop of Dublin, gave her all the assistance in his power, and, after consulting with the Holy See, approved the new foundation. In 1841, Pope Gregory XVI. confirmed the congregation, which is now so strong in the United Kingdom that it numbers 133 convents, besides numerous charitable institutions. Unlike the Sisters of Charity, this congregation has no superior-general, each convent being independent and self-governing.
Though introduced into this country by the late Bishop O'Connor, of Pittsburg, about thirty years ago, the Sisters of Mercy have spread rapidly over the United States. They have already nearly 50 asylums and hospitals, 80 academies and select schools, an immense number of free schools, convents almost as numerous as those of the Sisters of Charity, and considerably over 1,300 members. They are to be found in New York, the New England dioceses, Albany, Philadelphia, Louisville, Pittsburg, most of the old dioceses, and many of the newer ones.
There are other orders and congregations among us, if not so numerous, equally meritorious; for instance, the Ladies of the Sacred Heart, who conduct about 30 academies and select schools, in which the very highest order of education is imparted; the Sisters of Notre Dame, also a teaching order, having the care of 20 houses, in which there are 431 boarders and over 1,200 day scholars, besides about 14,000 pupils attending the free schools, half that number in the Sunday-schools, in addition to those taught in evening schools and instructed in various other ways. This congregation, [pg 374] though founded in 1804, by Mother Julia Billiart, assisted by Marie-Louise-Françoise, Vicomtesse Blin de Bourbon, and Catharine Duchâtel, at Amiens, has so extended its labors that it now counts in Belgium, England, and Central America 68 establishments, 12,000 scholars in its boarding and day schools, and over 32,000 children gratuitously taught in its free schools. It was introduced into the United States, in 1840, by the Most Rev. Dr. Purcell, Archbishop of Cincinnati, and, in connection with its convents and academies, has charge of 70 asylums. The Sisters of S. Joseph, numbering about sixty communities, have, by the latest returns, 42 academies, 20 select schools, 20 asylums, and 9 hospitals. These latter are specially charged with the instruction of the colored children of the South. Then there are the congregations of the Third Order of S. Francis and of S. Dominic, whose duties are equally multifarious; the Sisters of the Good Shepherd, whose mission it is to receive and reform the very outcasts of female society, and to save young women from lives of vice and crime; and the meek Little Sisters of the Poor, who actually go about from door to door, from store to market-place, begging, in the name of holy charity, for the crumbs of our tables to feed their aged and decrepit dependents who are tottering on the verge of the grave. Besides these, there are many other communities of pious women in our midst, quietly and unostentatiously pursuing their career of goodness, the history of whose foundation the limits of an article will not allow us to descant upon. Their actions are doubtless recorded in another world, where lie their trust and promised reward.
Thus we have seen how our glorious land is twice blessed by the presence of those pure-minded, zealous, and meek followers of their Saviour. We are blessed in their prayers and in their active charity. No one is so rich as to be independent of their good offices; no one so poor, afflicted, or degraded that they cannot succor and console. The vilest dens of infamy in our crowded cities are made almost sacred by their tread; the far-away prairies and forests resound with their chants and songs of praise; while the daintily-nurtured daughter of the aristocracy is taught, in some convent of the Sacred Heart, or of the Ursulines, to shine in and adorn her social sphere without forgetting that she is a Christian; the poor little negro children of the everglades of Florida, or the savage Indian babes of the Pacific slope, are kneeling at the feet of some Sister of S. Joseph or of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary, lisping their first prayer. Without exaggeration, it may be said that there is no ignorance so dense that they will not succeed in expelling; none of the many ills to which flesh is heir that they cannot assuage; and that they, and they alone, of all their sex, “can minister to a mind diseased, and pluck from the heart a deep-rooted sorrow.”
And yet all this toil and pain and solicitude bring with them, even in this world, abundant rewards. Who that has ever entered a convent or a religious house has not been impressed by the gentle air of cheerfulness and inward peace that sits on the faces of its inmates? We look in vain for the anxious glance that betrays [pg 375] an unsatisfied mind, or the deep-drawn lines that tell a tale of worldly struggle and discontent. No; every countenance is serene, placid, and healthful. This is the reward of noble works well performed, the luxury of doing good, to which the women of the outer world are for the most part strangers. But what shall be the eternal recompense for those who thus abandon kindred and home, friends and companions, the pleasures of the world and the passions of the heart, to follow in the footsteps of the Saviour who was crucified for us, and to carry out his precepts, regardless of all consequences, to the end? Such is the holy nun who storms heaven with her prayers for the salvation of mankind and the pardon of national crimes; such the humble Sister who devotes the energies of her mind, the years of her life, nay, her very life itself, to the service of God's poor, helpless, and sinful creatures. Can a nobler ambition than this find place in the human mind? Can the glory, the charity, and the all-absorbing beneficence of the Christian faith find brighter examples and purer exponents than within the convents which so numerously overspread and are continuing to increase on the soil of our young republic?
Switzerland In 1873.
“Going to Lyons to-morrow! Impossible!” exclaimed Mrs. C——, whom my friend and I accidentally met in the hall of the Berner Hof Hotel at Berne this autumn. “You cannot surely go without seeing the Lake of Lucerne! I should be quite ashamed to confess that I had been so long in Switzerland and was leaving without having been up the Rigi. In fact, if you persist in this resolution, you will have to come back again next summer expressly for that, and for nothing else. Think what trouble that may be! And all from want of a little energy now; for I feel quite certain you have no appointment to take you to Lyons in such a hurry. I know you cannot have,” she added smiling, and noticing some hesitation on our part, “so you must just change your plans again and come off to Lucerne with our party this afternoon! You may go to Lyons later, if you like, but there will be time enough to think about that!”