me. Though her
loving mother was still weeping over her grave, she had soon been
forgotten, as usual, by the greatest part of those who had known her: but
she was constantly present to my mind. I never entered the confessional-box
without hearing her solemn, though so mild, voice telling me, "There must
be somewhere something wrong in the auricular confession. Twice I have been
destroyed by my confessors; and I have known several others who have been
destroyed in the same way."

More than once, when her voice was ringing in my ears from her tomb, I had
shed bitter tears on the profound and unfathomable degradation into which
I, with the other priests, had to fell in the confessional-box. For many,
many times, stories as deplorable as that of this unfortunate girl were
confessed to me by city as well as country females.

One night I was awakened by the rumbling noise of thunder, when I heard
some one knocking at the door. I hastened out of bed to ask who was there.
The answer was that the Rev. Mr. ---- was dying, and that he wanted to see
me before his death. I dressed myself, and was soon on the highway. The
darkness was fearful; and often, had it not been for the lightning which
was almost constantly tearing the clouds, we should not have known where we
were. After a long and hard journey through the darkness and the storm, we
arrived at the house of the dying priest. I went directly to his room, and
really found him very low; he could hardly speak. With a sign of his hand
he bade his servant-girl and a young man who were there go out, and leave
him alone with me.

Then, with a low voice, he said, "Is it you who prepared poor Mary to die?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"Please tell me the truth. Is it the fact that she died the death of a
reprobate, and that her last words were, 'Oh, my God! I am lost'?"

I answered: "As I was the confessor of that girl, and we were talking
together on matters which pertained to her confession, in the very moment
that she was unexpectedly summoned to appear before God, I cannot answer
your question in any way; please, then, excuse me if I cannot say any more
on that subject: but tell me who can have assured you that she died the
death of a reprobate."

"It was her own mother," answered the dying man. "She came, last week, to
visit me, and when she was alone with me, with many tears and cries, she
said how her poor child had refused to receive the last sacraments, and how
her last cr