The Missioner’s Plea
on behalf of the Poor Souls, 1870

“Ah! Would to God I could open the dungeons of Purgatory, and let you see the immense procession of poor suffering souls coming forth, and crying in most lamentable heart-rending voices, one after the other: ‘Father, Mother, have pity on me your child! Brother, have pity on me your brother! Sister have pity on me your sister! Husband, have pity on me your wife! Wife, have pity on me your husband! Friend, have pity on me your friend!’ But unable to let us see their tears and hear their moans, they borrow a voice from the Church, their Mother, and her priests, who, to express the moans and inconceivable distress of these souls, and to excite your compassion and charity, cry to you in the words of Job: ‘Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, for the hand of the Lord hath smitten me.’ Oh what a cruelty! A sick man weeps on his bed, and his friend consoles him; a baby cries in his cradle, and his mother at once caresses him; a beggar knocks at the door for an alms, and receives it; a malefactor laments in his prison, and comfort is given him; even a dog that whines at the door is taken in; but these poor, helpless souls cry day and night from the depths of the fire of Purgatory: ‘Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, for the hand of the Lord hath smitten me,’ and there is none to listen! Oh, what great cruelty, my brethren!”