Thursday, August 3.—Called on Père de Ravignan, but he was out. Went for some little time to the Chapel des Dames du bon Secours. It is a delightful feeling to get out of the noise and glare of the world into that exquisite little shrine. Then went to Issy, and was two hours with M. Galais. I asked his opinion about modern miracles, and whether one could in good faith deny the material facts in the cases which had come under my notice. He said there could be no doubt that God did occasionally work miracles; and he did not see how the facts could be denied here. I remarked, that the chief difficulty seemed to be, why such and such cases were chosen more than others, as they had to our eyes no peculiar fitness. He observed, that there seemed analogous cases in the Gospel, where our Lord appeared often to heal out of a sentiment of compassion to the individual; and there are a multitude of cases where the details are not given, but it is said, curavit omnes, He healed them in globo. I asked which nation in the Roman Church was at present most conspicuous for its missionary exertions. He said, the French by far; there are ten French for one Italian missionary. Will the Jesuits get more liberty of action under the Revolution? He thought not. There was no disposition to apply the principles of liberty either to the Jesuits or the other religious orders. They had the reputation of being very "habiles;" and "habiles" they certainly were, but not so much as they were esteemed. He doubted if they had been wise under Louis Philippe's government; it was known that in their colleges out of France, Brugelette for instance, devotion to the elder branch was inculcated. Now, the wise course seemed to be to accept the government de facto, as the Fathers of the Church did. They troubled themselves very little who was emperor. Had the Jesuits done so, they would not have been suspected by Louis Philippe; and so, perhaps, would have had colleges entrusted to them. I asked what the actual position of the Church with regard to the state was. "There are," he said, "in the Assembly sixty—it may be as many as a hundred—good Catholics; but all the rest are indifferent, or even hostile to us. The immense majority are bent on resisting the influence of religion." "It seems to me then," I said, "a kind of miracle that you subsist at all." "It is so," he replied. "The thing in our favour is that, small minority of the nation as we are, we are firm, compact, and banded together, while our enemies are divided in every way. They have no common principle, and so they have a dread of us, a fear of our succeeding in winning back the nation to religion, by which they would fall into a minority. The real feeling which influences this unbelieving mass is the lust of domination; they have got their feet on the neck of religion, and they mean to keep it there. For this reason they will allow no liberty of teaching if they can help it." "But I suppose you have won ground since 1802; have you not?" I said. "We have won and we have lost," he replied. "Doubtless the clergy are better constituted now; there is a great devotion among them. Our bishops are in the main well chosen, and do their duty. They understand the crisis, and are fully convinced that they must fight the battle stoutly, and make no concession. But, on the other hand, in 1802, though religion had been overthrown, and impiety had publicly triumphed, yet the great mass of the nation had received a Christian education. It is the reverse now; this mass is now unbelieving, they have not been brought up as Christians, their first impressions were not in favour of religion." "You are then as missionaries among unbelievers," I said. "Precisely so. And this enormous unbelieving mass has the greatest jealousy of us. We only ask fair play; liberty, not privileges; and this they will do every thing to keep from us. They are making, quietly but definitely, efforts to secularise, as they call it, the education of girls; that is, knowing the importance of first impressions, and of the female sex on society, they would take this primary education out of religious hands. There are infernal plots abroad. They dread us, and have a feeling, that if we were allowed a fair trial we should win our ground. I am convinced that we should reconquer France if we were only allowed liberty of action. Even the multitude who seek to satiate themselves in sensual enjoyments, even these come to us sooner or later for aid. Few after all can gain these enjoyments, and those who do, feel that they have not reached what they were seeking for. And then in the young clergy I am continually seeing instances of the most touching generosity and devotion. Many give up fair prospects, and fortunes, and surrender themselves wholly to their ministry." I remarked, what a difficulty the law of continence must impose on those who had to determine the vocation of young men. "You have, indeed," he said, "named the true difficulty." "The readiness," I added, "to embrace such a law, must be in itself the touchstone of a ministerial vocation, for it involved a continual sacrifice; and feelings, which were very pronounced at one time, might not continue." "It is so," he said. "Here is the most trying and embarrassing part of our duty. We do not always succeed. It is most hard to judge if a young man of twenty, who appears devoted, will continue so. Yet, I assure you, I have known many whose most secret thoughts have been laid open to me, and who were pure as angels. I was once acquainted with a man of great capacity, but an infidel. He was thoroughly persuaded that continence could not be really observed by the French clergy. He set himself to work, and made for many years the most minute inquiries. The result was, that he discovered many horrors; but he likewise was completely convinced that continence was maintained by a great number. Now this could only be, he knew, by a supernatural gift; and it had such an effect on him that he became a good Catholic."

M. Galais afterwards went through Migne's Cursus Completus Theologiæ, pointing out the most valuable treatises in it. He strongly recommended Klee's Manual of the History of Christian Dogmas, and Pouget's Institutiones. Their examinations begin to-morrow, and their vacations in four days. He looks forward to taking the waters somewhere. They absolutely require a change of scene and occupations.

I called on Mr. Coppinger this evening, and staid to tea with them.

Friday, August 4.—Called on M. ——, who had promised to take me to the Assemblée Nationale. He said the Père Lacordaire had completely failed in the Assembly: first he had taken his seat on the Mountain, shaking hands with the most advanced of that party; then he spoke for the first time, in defence of Ledru Rollin, to the consternation of his friends: and, lastly, he seemed quite bereaved of his usual eloquence, uttered nothing but trivialities, and was at a loss for words. All this he conceived had deeply wounded him, and he had resigned his seat to the great disgust of his constituents, who had been pained first at the line he took, and then by his retirement. He was always eccentric, and took a course of his own: he had professed that his seat in the Assembly was incompatible with a religious life, but he did not live here en communauté, but alone, and was engaged with M. Ozanam and others on a journal, the Ère Nouvelle, which was in the highest degree a political life. But he liked to be unlike other people. Padre Ventura, in his funeral oration on O'Connell, had ascribed R. C. Emancipation to the fear of England; so Le Père Lacordaire lauded the Duke of Wellington and Sir R. Peel to the skies for granting it, in his funeral oration of last February, to the great disgust of the Irish, John O'Connell, and the rest, who were present.—It was no easy matter to get into the Assembly: I was an hour waiting, after sending in my name to the Comte de Montalembert, and then the Tribune was full, and it was near another hour before I got in. The Chamber is an immense room, in the form of a horse shoe, at the bottom of which is the Tribune, and behind it the seat of the President, and sundry officers; while the benches of the representatives are ranged eleven deep, one above another, round the other three sides. The speakers were heard very plainly, though I was at the very furthest point from them: strangers sit in galleries at some height above the members, on both sides and at the bottom. When there is agitation, the sound of voices is like the roar of the sea. But there was nothing interesting to-day. The President, M. Marrast, said, "M. Fayet a la parole," and I heard the Bishop of Orléans speak twice, but very briefly. The speakers were generally very rapid; there was a great want of dignity both in their manner, and in the general aspect of the Chamber. They sit uncovered. I listened for about two hours, and came away congratulating myself that I was not a legislator, specially in the National Assembly. It seemed to me a place for the violent to succeed in, and for the good and thoughtful to fail in. I watched the representatives going in for some time; generally speaking, they are anything in appearance but distinguished. The presence of an armed force on every side gives likewise an unpleasant feeling to an Englishman.

Saturday, August 5.—Was an hour with the Père de Ravignan this morning—one of the pleasantest I have spent in France. Really his kindness and charity to a complete stranger are more than I can express; and I was quite confounded when he thanked me repeatedly for coming to see him. I told him I had not seen any institutions for the education of the other sex, and he gave me notes to three. He agreed with M. Galais in thinking that France was at present that part of the Roman Church in which there was most movement. "Italy is always the head and heart: there are, and always have been, there many ecclesiastics of a holy life. Still it cannot be doubted that a certain reform is wanted there—a reform, of course, to be wrought by the Church, and not in separation from her. This is only saying that where there are men, there is a natural tendency to degenerate. We have passed through this reform in France." I asked whether he thought, if liberty of teaching were granted, that the Church would regain the mass of the population. He hesitated. A certain effect would doubtless be produced: the mere establishment of a house of education in every diocese would be a considerable step. It was very difficult to know the number of practising Catholics in France. There were not above two millions of Protestants. Out of the million of Parisians there might be from a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand who communicated at Easter, men, women and children: of women one half were Catholic; of men, perhaps, one-twentieth. Paris was one of the worst places in France; so, again, the North generally, and the centre, Bourges, Berri, le Nivernois. On the other hand, in Bretagne and the South religion was much more general. He then passed to a subject which was of peculiar interest to me, as touching the sorest place of a parish priest. "Suarez," said he, "has a discussion on the fewness of the saved, whether this is said with reference to the world or to the Church; and he applies it to the world, but not to the Church. I think he is right; this is the result of a ministry of twenty years, in which I have necessarily had large experience—it is the feeling, also, of our fathers generally. You know the Church teaches that attrition only, combined with the Sacrament of penitence, avails to salvation—attrition arising from motives of fear rather than of love. Contrition by itself, one act of pure love by the soul, avails even without the Sacrament, if there be a firm purpose and desire to receive it. God has no desire for the sinner's death. Jansenism has done great harm on this subject, by inspiring a sort of despair which is most dangerous." I observed that purgatory was the necessary complement of such a doctrine. "It is so," he said, "and though God is alone the judge of the sufficiency of those acts of the dying, yet we may hope that a great number come within the terms of salvation, whatever purifying process they may afterwards require." I asked if Jansenism was not well nigh extinct? "It is, in France," he said, "but it is still strong in Piemont and in Portugal." He then reverted to the Primacy, and spoke of the force of that superiority which is discernible through every century in the Papal See. Not one passed in which, even from the East, some appeal was not made to it. M. de Maistre spoke of a "présence réelle" of the Papacy being sensibly felt throughout the whole history of the Church. I said I rested our defence entirely on the difference between Primacy and Monarchy. There were two great powers in the Church of divine origin—the Papacy and the Episcopate. In the earlier centuries the latter had been most sensibly felt: but in modern times the former. "With regard to discipline," he said, "I might allow that; but as to the hierarchy, and as to dogma, the relation has always been what it is now: the hierarchy, even the Eastern patriarchs, always were as strictly bound to the Roman chair as the bishops now. They felt the Pope was their superior." I said I had been unable to see that. I had searched far and wide for evidence of it. The patriarchs of Alexandria, in their own district, and, later, the patriarchs of Constantinople, throughout the East, had judged as absolutely as the Pope in the West: independence was a wrong word to use; but they seemed to enjoy as complete a liberty of action in their sphere as the Pope in his. He observed, with regard to Bossuet's Gallicanism, "We have been preserved from the ultimate consequences of those principles, but they might have conducted to a sort of Anglicanism—the two touched each other. But," he added, "Le cœur et la prière vous éclairera. L'étude est souvent difficultueuse; ce n'est pas que l'esprit n'ait pas ses propres fonctions. But light comes from the heart. I shall often think of you, and pray for you." I said I thought of leaving Paris on Thursday, and should like to pay him a last visit on Wednesday. "I fear I shall be ordered out of town by my physician; but I will try and return on Wednesday." "You must not think of it," I said; "but are you not well?" "My throat is unwell, which prevents me from preaching." "That is just it," I said: "I should have thought myself most fortunate if I could have heard you preach." He embraced me at parting; and wished to call on me, which I would not hear of.

Certainly, if ever there was a heart of Christian kindness, it is that of the Père de Ravignan.

M. des Billiers showed me a very interesting MS. letter from S. François de Sales to Mad. Chantal. Went again to call on M. Noirlieu, but found him out, and to the Archevêché to get a ticket for the service of Monday, but the secretary was out. In the evening walked along the Boulevards; there was the usual tide of men and women, but here, as everywhere else in Paris at present, there was a total absence of all that seemed distinguished in either sex: a respectable equipage is rarely seen. I doubt whether I have set eyes on a lady since I have been here.

Sunday, Aug. 6.—Went to La Madeleine at 10, expecting a Mass, but it was the end of a Benediction, and then to my amazement saw M. L'Abbé Pététot in the pulpit. Presently he explained that he was there, the curé of the parish having given in his resignation, and the vicars general of the chapter having appointed him to take care of the parish, until the new archbishop should nominate another curé. He earnestly requested their prayers both for the parish under such circumstances, and for the person to be named. In every parish the responsibility was great, but peculiarly so there, where not only so much good was to be done, but where the example would have a wide influence on others. The curé is much to be compassionated with the care of 50,000 souls. The time would allow him but a short exhortation to them. He then read a few prayers: gave out a neuvaine of prayers beginning on that day, and preceding the feast of the Assumption, to be directed for the tranquillity and well-being of France, by order of the vicars general. It was not, of course, of obligation. The Psalm Miserere should be said each day, and "Sacré Cœur de Jésus, prenez pitié de nous. Cœur immaculé de Marie, priez pour nous." He then read the account of the Transfiguration, and began with remarking on the wisdom of the Church in bringing before us at stated times particular subjects of contemplation. Thus the thought of heaven, which the Transfiguration suggested, she called to our minds on the Second Sunday of Lent, and on Ascension Day, and on All Saints. It was a thought peculiarly necessary and good for us. What would our life with all its pains and afflictions be, without heaven? How could we understand anything that passed here below? "car la terre sans le ciel serait la negation la plus formelle de Dieu." Without the thought of heaven we should be exposed continually to two opposite dangers,—on the one hand despair, on the other too great attachment to the world. M. Pététot's delivery is particularly graceful, and has something quite paternal and attaching in it. I thought his dress most becoming; over the baue he wore a canon's tippet, dark, and bordered with pink, while his stole, embroidered with gold and joined over the breast, contrasted well with the other colours. No more consummate bêtise have we committed, than the giving up the proper dress of the clergy; and assuredly never was there a greater mistake, than to consider it a question of superficial importance. Alas! for the day of coldness and neglect, when the English priest changed his cassock for the layman's coat. But I fear the outward form seldom fails to be an index of the inward spirit; the body here is the clothing of the soul. From the time the chasuble was relinquished, the keys were no longer used, and both, I believe, will be restored or remain in abeyance together.

At three, a sermon at La Madeleine on humility: it was a good plain discourse, setting it forth as the first and most necessary of Christian graces, springing from the consciousness of our personal sin and misery, in feeling which consisted the precept, and in desiring to be treated accordingly the counsel or perfection of humility. This was followed by the Benediction, in which were the prayers for the neuvaine.

Dined with M. Martin de Noirlieu. He said the archbishop's death had been an époque for the Church. His funeral was a real triumphal procession, such as France had not seen since the great revolution. Seven hundred priests took part in it. His body was borne uncovered. Every one, especially the military, pressed to touch it, so that the white gloves and stockings became quite black. An intense feeling had been excited by his sacrifice: the people had never been so well disposed to the Church. It looked to the priests now for comfort and support, and had confidence in them. He saw daily the effects of this in his parish. He had been treated with more respect to-day than he had ever known before. A movement towards religion was certainly begun in France, which must go on; it would require time, but it would spread wide. Catholicism was still a power in France; and, what was very certain, it must be either this or nothing. There was no inclination to Protestantism. Some Protestant ministers wished to bless the trees of liberty, but the people would not hear of it. "Who are you?" they said; "we want the priests of Pie Neuf." He said the republic was hated and could not last: already Henri Cinq was in many mouths. What was very remarkable in the archbishop's death was, that he was not at all likely to have done such a thing. It was not in his character. He had a great dread of death. At twelve o'clock on the Sunday he had not thought of it: he then hastily dined and set off with his vicars general to M. Cavaignac. The enthusiasm which his presence everywhere produced was wonderful. The soldiers rendered him martial honours by a spontaneous feeling, and the people knelt for his blessing. That passage on foot was a triumphal march. In the midst of his agony he said, "Eloignez vous, mes amis; je ne vous édifie pas." M. de Noirlieu and his brother, a young priest, asked many questions about the movement in England. The view he had taken was, that Puseyism would lay hold of many Catholic truths which it found in antiquity, such as the sacrifice of the Mass, but would not admit that extension of power which was now claimed for the Pope. He observed, however, that those who went over took the most extreme line of Ultra-Montanism. The appointment of Hampden must have done us much injury. I observed that among them the Church was working under such oppression that anything but Catholicism would be destroyed by it. For instance, in every commune the schoolmaster, generally a person without faith, is set up by the government as an antagonist to the priest. The attempt to make education a mere affair of the state was thoroughly anti-christian. He agreed that it was only the "sêve intarissable" of Catholicism, ever mounting up afresh, which kept them alive. M. de Noirlieu has juster notions of the English Church, and makes larger allowances in favour of our state, than any other ecclesiastic I have met.

Monday, August 7.—I was at Notre Dame by half past eight, for the ceremony in honour of the archbishop. The church became gradually very crowded. I was in time to get a seat very near the pulpit. Mass began at ten. Most of the clergy of Paris were present; some representatives; the Cardinal de la Tour d'Auvergne, a venerable old man of 80, who officiated; the Bishop of Langres; and the Bishop of Quimper. Just before eleven M. L'abbé Cœur began his funeral oration, which lasted two hours and forty-three minutes. When about half over, the poor old cardinal, who, of course, was fasting, could hold out no longer; he was obliged to go out, and finished the Mass in silence in the choir, while the sermon continued. Thus its inordinate length broke the order of the service. The preacher was not without merit, but his delivery was very bad, and he was obliged continually to spit; an operation which would come on in the middle of a sentence, and was once repeated six times in the most disagreeable manner. The eloquence of Demosthenes himself could not have sustained such an interruption; and I could not help wishing that the Père Lacordaire, whom I saw present, had been in his place. The sermon contained a sketch of the life and labours of the archbishop, especially praising his simplicity, learning, courage, complete independence of state or personal interests. That he had fully understood the mission of the Church in these latter times, to consummate the alliance between religion and his country. He had it much at heart to form in the Ancienne Maison des Carmes, rendered so illustrious by the blood of martyrs in 1792, a new school of prophets, eminent at once for science, piety, and courage. He was a great encourager of learning in the clergy. Their efforts in behalf of "la liberté d'enseignement," would be the honour of the French episcopate in the eyes of posterity. The archbishop was powerful in his life, but much more so in his death. His death was the real apology of the sacerdoce, which had been attacked. It could not be defended by books; it required a martyrdom: "le martyre est un grand maître de la raison; il ne discute pas, il montre." A hundred years of teaching could not have proved what his blood shed in the Faubourg S. Antoine had established. Nor was his death brought about by an "entrainement du caractère: c'est l'apologie du sacerdoce et du Christianisme." The preacher dwelt at great length on the "new times,"—that the Church was essentially indifferent to all governments: it was the life of humanity. He then gave a Christian explanation of liberty, equality, fraternity; and finished with an address to the archbishop: they did not believe that he needed their prayers, which, however, they would offer for him.

This sermon, besides its inordinate length, was deficient in connection and choice of subjects: it was far too general. Had it been well delivered, parts would have been very interesting; but, considering that the occasion was quite unique—the death of an archbishop and martyr—it must be considered a failure. I was more than five hours and a half in Notre Dame.

Went to M. des Billiers, who conducted me to the Couvent des Oiseaux, for the Supérieure of which le Père de Ravignan had given me a letter. The Sisters of Notre Dame were founded by the Bienheureux Fourrier, for the purpose of educating. But their houses, though conducted on the same principles, are independent. This is of very great extent,—has a very handsome chapel, with oak fittings, and a rich marble altar; a very costly library, including a large collection of engravings of different schools, museum of natural history, and every thing which can contribute to the ordinary education of young ladies. Nothing that I have seen in Paris interested me more than this house; nor was I ever more struck with the advantages which la vie de communauté presents. There are here, between mères and sœurs, 116 religieuses, who are occupied in directing the education of 240 girls; at least, there were this number before the events of February: there are at present only 50; but it is just before the vacation, and a large number have been withdrawn, either from the fears of their parents, or their inability, since those events, to pay the pension. They employ, besides, sixteen masters, for music, languages, &c. The terms are 1800 francs a-year. There are one hundred pianos in the house, and every thing that I saw was on a like scale of abundance and richness. They attend Mass daily. We went to a Benediction in the chapel; and after this the aumonier conducted us all over the house,—the class-rooms, dortoirs, garden, &c. A religieuse sleeps in each dortoir; the beds have not even curtains, so that there is the most perfect surveillance. A pupil is never left with a master alone, but one of the sisters is present at the lessons. No private establishment could possibly compete with this: three millions of francs, the almoner told us, had been laid out upon it, first and last; every thing is done for the pupils by the religieuses, nor have they any servants, save for the garden. They give, besides, instruction gratuitously to a large number of poor children, separately from their pensionnaires. The almoner told us he gave two instructions to the upper, and two to the lower classes, every week. He had got together an immense collection of maps and engravings, a volume for each department of France, in order that the pupils might have pictures of all that was described to them; for which he quoted to me—

The great extent of this house, the number of the rooms, the perfection of all its accommodations, astonished me. The number of teachers, in comparison to the taught, is far beyond anything we have; not less difference is there in the pains taken with their religious instruction, and the moral surveillance exercised over them. But the most pleasing thought of all was, that personal interest was not the prime agent, nor an agent at all in this. These nuns acquire nothing from their pupils personally: the house, it is true, is necessarily supported by the pensions; but all that remains goes to the instruction of the poor, or the decoration of the chapel, or the advantage of future generations of scholars in the accommodations of the house. The teachers do not get rich upon the taught, not to speak of the poor who are instructed gratuitously at the same time. The number of persons engaged allows of the greatest attention being paid to any individual case requiring it, and the primum mobile is charity. How great the superiority in all points of view to any private establishment. Gain entering in changes the motive of all this: from a work of love, it becomes a profession; self-sacrifice vanishes, as personal interest appears. They have English and Irish pupils here, as well as of other nations: even some Protestants. The garden is quite sufficient for all purposes of recreation. The age of the pupils ranges from ten to eighteen or twenty. Some remain till they marry.

Accompanied M. Bonnetty to Lady —— in the evening.

Tuesday, August 8.—My visit to the Couvent des Oiseaux yesterday sharpened me for that to the Dames du Sacré Cœur to-day. Le Père de Ravignan had given me a note to Madame D'Avenas. We had a great deal of talk with her, which not unfrequently took a controversial turn; and she seemed particularly well informed on such points. The congregation of Sacré Cœur was only founded, she told us, in 1800; they now have about fifty houses in France, three in Rome, others in Piemont (lately sequestrated by the state), in the United States, one at Acton, near London,—in all, about seventy. At eighteen they may commence a noviciate, which lasts two years: they can then take the vows for five years: at the end of which time, being of twenty-five years at least, they can, if they please, take the final and irrevocable vows. There are one hundred Sisters in this house, which is the old palace of the Ducs de Biron, in the Rue de Varennes, having a garden of immense extent behind it. Their scholars, before the events of February, amounted to 160: all is done for them by the sisters, who have no servants, except for the garden. They have masters for the different arts: the pension, exclusive of these masters, is 1000 francs. The Supérieure Générale of all these seventy houses resides here. They are founded uniquely for education. Some of the class-rooms are very magnificent—the old reception rooms of the palace. But, generally speaking, the house is not equal in its extent or fitting up to Les Oiseaux; but the garden is far more extensive. Madame D'Avenas walked over it with us; and amid its groves one can hardly believe that one is in Paris. Both Madame D'Avenas and M. des Billiers attacked me on the state of separation of the English Church, and the schism it had thereby incurred: this, I said, depended on the degree to which the Papal claim is true.

Called on M. ——, who gave me a deplorable account of the state of things here: that the chiefs of the party for the République Rouge—Louis Blanc, Caussidiere, and Ledru Rollin—were supported by General Cavaignac secretly: that the rapport just given to the Assemblée had re-awakened the most furious passions, and that a fresh insurrection might break out at any time.

In the evening called to thank the bishop of Langres for the service he has been to me in procuring for me the company of M. des Billiers, who, together with M. Farel, his Vicaire Général, returned with me and talked some time.

Wednesday, August 9.—Went with M. Farel over the Carmes, the scene of the massacre of 175 priests on September 2, 1792, among whom were the Archbishop of Arles, and the Bishop of Saintes. The Supérieur conducted us over the house and garden; he showed us the room in which the revolutionary tribunal sat; the passage through which the victims were hurried to be dispatched; and at the bottom of the garden the orangery, now a chapel, into which they fled, and which retains on its floor, and on the seat which runs along its inner wall, numerous traces of blood. There is, especially, the mark of a head on the bench, where the crown of hair is still visible, which must have been dripping with blood to have left such a trace. No spot in Paris has such interest for me as this: none is so glorious to the Church of France: none carries such an omen of future triumphs. Between this orangery and the house is a small circular piece of water, on the edge of which several likewise were massacred. In a small vaulted chamber, up stairs, are the marks of three rapiers against the wall, which the assassins, sleeping there at night, seem to have put to stand there, dropping with blood. And in this very room Madame Tallien, the Empress Josephine, and the Duchess D'Aiguillon were confined seventeen days, as appears by an inscription in pencil on the wall, asking how long liberty should be a vain name, and signed "Citoyenne Tallien, Josephine Beauharnais, D'Aiguillon." Even here the reminiscences of this house do not stop;—in the garret many of the Girondins were confined, and the walls are covered with their indignant remarks; many from the Latin poets, in heathen style,—some written in pencil, some in their blood. It is a curious contrast, as one turns away from this chamber, to see over another door one of the old inscriptions of the Carmelites remaining:—"Quod delectat, momentum est: quod cruciat, æternum est." It is, as the late archbishop said, "le monde Païen, and le monde Chrétien, vis-à-vis." He had purchased this house as a place for the encouragement of the higher studies of theology among the clergy; the design was not completed at his death, but there are about forty here, of whom twelve are masters. He has added another to the noble band of martyrs, the unequalled patrimony of this building: his heart has just been carried to the chapel, where we saw it in a glass case. Surely neither their blood, nor his, has been shed in vain. He seems to me worthy to rank with the Archbishop of Arles, who, when his name was called out by the murderers, stepped forth from amid the priests seeking to shelter him, and said, "C'est moi. Je suis celui que vous cherchez." He was struck down and massacred. The same power enabled the late archbishop, not a man careless of his life, nor of great physical courage, to present himself fearlessly among enraged combatants, and when suffering extreme tortures from his wound not even once to ask his physician for aid. If ever any sacrifice was voluntary, it was his: and this notion of making expiation with his blood for his flock seems to have given him supernatural force.

The Abbé des Billiers had got me a ticket for the distribution of prizes at the Institution des Aveugles. The crowns and books were almost as numerous as at the petit séminaire: here, however, the ceremony had an especial interest, as all the scholars had to surmount exceeding obstacles arising from their loss of sight. There were, notwithstanding, a great number of subjects for which prizes were given; and the whole was terminated by a concert, in which the boys and girls were performers. Music is one of the things in which they most excel, and the source, doubtless, to them of peculiar enjoyment—the sensations it excites may replace to them, in some degree which we cannot imagine, the loss of sight. This spectacle, however, is not without pain, as well as interest, to the beholders, as I experienced in going over the house itself a few days ago.

Thursday, August 10.—M. Farel took me to the Dames de la Visitation, Rue d'Enfer. As they are cloitrées, we could not see their house, but we conversed a little with the Supérieure. M. Farel said smilingly to her that they looked to the prayers and intercessions of the visitandines for the maintenance of public tranquillity; and when the affairs of the Church did not go well, it was because the visitandines did not do their duty. Vraiment, the Supérieure replied, not displeased at the remark; and then she sent for four English sisters, with whom I had a long talk. Three of these English sisters had been converted, one, eight years ago, from a state of utter unbelief; the other two, six and three years ago, being members of the Church of England. The fourth was born a Catholic. None had any distinct idea of the Church of England. They all expressed themselves delighted with their condition. There are several months of trial before admission to the noviciate, which lasts at least a year and a day, after which they may take the final vows. They told me it not unfrequently happened that persons wishing to remain, and having apparently all the dispositions suitable for the religious life, were refused by the superiors, but that their judgment had never been known to have been deceived in those whom they accepted: a special light was given them to that end. The primary object of their order was prayer and intercession, and they received among them persons labouring under various bodily infirmities, who would not be accepted elsewhere; their rule was not severe as to bodily austerities. Their founder, S. François de Sales, had assured them that the number of infirm persons they admitted would never be so large as to diminish the efficacy of the order. They likewise had schools attached to their houses; but no nun was occupied more than two hours a-day in school. They have about 180 houses—one in England, at Westbury, near Bristol; some in the United States. The number in each house was thirty-three, but in the great towns they passed this number. Before the events of February they had sixty pupils. I observed that the not knowing or not considering the careful attention paid to the subject of vocation was the cause of many prejudices in England against the religious orders. One of the four, a novice, said, when she came to visit her sister, before her conversion, she had the greatest dread of entering the house, but she had found it quite different from what she expected. We had a great deal of conversation about late conversions, that of Mr. Newman especially. I said, Roman Catholics in England seemed to me to commit a great fault, and especially converts. The moment they had left us, it seemed their object to depreciate to the utmost the Church of England; instead of allowing what we undoubtedly possessed, and pointing out with charity and kindness the particulars in which they presume us to be deficient, they delight to condemn us en masse, in the most harsh and insulting manner. I noticed the Tablet as instinct with this spirit; and when this came from men who for years had been fighting on our side, it was the more offensive. It was in strong contrast with the charity and kindness one met with in Roman Catholics abroad.

Called on Lady ——, who had asked me to dine with her to-morrow. She spoke to me seriously on a subject which, she said, had been much upon her mind. Living for a long time among Roman Catholics, she had come to the knowledge of a vast number of answers to prayer addressed through the Blessed Virgin to God. Without rejecting evidence which on any other subject she should admit to be conclusive, she could not refuse her belief to the efficacy of these prayers, and yet her whole mind revolted from addressing an invocation to the Blessed Virgin. Moreover, she believed that, in the minds of the ignorant and superstitious in the Roman Communion, the Blessed Virgin was an obstacle to their approaching God,—they stopped with her. And yet these prayers were undoubtedly answered. Did God then vouchsafe a reply to the love which evidently dictated these prayers? To her Protestantism seemed to have called forth the manly virtues, independence and self-possession; whereas Catholicism developed itself in far greater tenderness of spirit and affection. She showed me a passage from Padre Ventura, strongly setting forth the paternity of God the Father and the maternity of the Blessed Virgin in parallelism, and compassionating those who held either without the other. But to Protestants the Blessed Virgin was a merely historical being, having no present existence; they did not mean to dishonour her, but they simply never thought about her.

I said it appeared to me that the Intercession of the Saints for the Church on earth and its particular members could not but be an essential part of the Communion of Saints, and this once being granted, the pre-eminent position of the Blessed Virgin accounted for the effects wrought by her intercession; that those who had carried her power to the highest yet made it a simply intercessory power. "Monstra te esse matrem" was the highest exhibition of her authority. When the mind comes to reflect upon her, and the position she holds, so unapproachable by any other creature, it can hardly fail to come to these results. The greater tenderness and devotion of spirit discernible among Roman Catholics must be on account of their so vividly realising the Communion of Saints, and this specially in the case of the Blessed Virgin. We must not reason from the ignorant and superstitious members of the Roman Church, any more than from the apathy and utter deadness of heart and irreverence apparent in so many of our own people. The cultus of the saints may be idolatry to those who do not realise the ineffably higher office of our Lord. I can conceive their asking, What good can the bones of dead men do? But when the reality of Christ's presence in the tabernacles of their flesh is felt, I could not see how the grace and glory bestowed by the Head upon his members detracted from Himself, as the source and giver of it. The Communion of Saints, therefore, would account for the answers given to prayers for the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. But how could the Saints know of the prayers made to them? I said I saw no difficulty in the view of divines, that those who enjoyed the vision of God, beheld in Him the needs and requests of their brethren in the flesh.

Lady —— has an odd notion of the soul slumbering till the Resurrection, which, I said, she must allow me to say, was simply false doctrine.

I took leave of M. Bonnetty afterwards. M. Farel took me to the establishment of S. Nicolas, for the education of orphan and other children, and their apprenticing to various trades, Rue Vaugirard, 98. This has been set on foot and conducted for about twenty years by Monsignor de Bervanger. He has collected out of the streets of Paris a thousand gamins, whom he receives at a small pension—twenty francs a month for orphans, twenty-five for other children; lodges, boards, instructs, and teaches them a vast number of trades. Of these he has even at present seven hundred: but the Revolution of February has cost him a diminution of three hundred. Five hundred of the garde mobile, who lately saved Paris, have been brought up by him. He observes that the difficulty for children destined to live by manual labour is how to join elementary studies, especially that of religion, with their apprenticeship to a trade. Without religion a workman does not find in all his life rule for his conduct, consolation in his toils, or hope for the future. Thus establishments uniting these advantages answer a deep need of society, and this has been the chief aim of the Œuvre de S. Nicolas since its institution in 1827, i.e., to succour orphans, to give them a love of virtue and labour, and prepare them, by the practice of religious duties, to become not merely good workmen, but good Christians. For this purpose an hour and a quarter is given every day, except Thursday, to the study and explanation of the Catechism, the Gospel, and Sacred History. The pupils are arranged in fourteen divisions, according to their age and intelligence. They are taught by priests approved by the archbishop—these are ever among them, not only in their work and studies, but at their recreations, instructing them to be content with the position assigned to them by Providence, and to bless Him amid the most painful toils and privations, out of regard to an eternal recompense—sentiments which the example of these priests in surrendering themselves to so charitable and self-denying a life must be very powerful in inspiring.

The children are specially instructed and prepared for their first communion and confirmation.

The establishment has within it twenty-five ateliers for pupils whose parents or guardians desire to leave their children till the end of their apprenticeship; for the children only attend these workshops on an express request. Care will be taken to put to good Christian masters the children not able to profit by this advantage. A great number of those brought up here are already set at the head of these workshops. Their younger brethren will find with them the same religious usages, and as it were the same family.

They are occupied in these workshops eight and a half hours a day. They have a class two hours every day, except their friends desire them to pass this time in the workshop, to perfect themselves in their employment. If their work should be suspended, they attend the classes.

The apprenticeship lasts two, three, or four years, according to the trade. When finished they may remain in the establishment; and what they earn beyond their maintenance may be deposited in a savings' bank. The parents can select for their children what trade they like, after considering their tastes, physical powers, and intelligence. Though these workshops are an increase of charge to the establishment, yet, as it does not seek to make a pecuniary speculation, the payment for the children in them is no larger than for the youngest, though their board is more expensive. Moreover, those who work require a larger amount of food.

All the earnings of the apprentices belong to the masters of the workshops, who have thus an interest in their progress, and in conforming themselves to the rules of the house, from which they are liable to be dismissed. On their side, they provide the tools. They have no power to inflict punishments, but report to the brethren.

The studies comprehend reading, writing, arithmetic, and orthography; the elements of French grammar, geography, and history; analysis of grammar and logic; book-keeping, linear-drawing, practical geometry, vocal music, the most complete instrumental music, gymnastics, and swimming; such primary instructions in natural philosophy, chemistry, and natural history, as are applicable to daily life; mensuration and horticulture.

The children do not remain in study more than two hours and a half following, nor occupied on the same subject more than from half an hour to an hour and a half. Those not in the workshops have eight hours of class and study, excepting the youngest, who have only six, as they rise later. Each class has from fifty to seventy scholars at most.

There is a small examination several times a year.

The food is prepared by sisters of charity. It is wholesome and plentiful, and shared by the masters. There is breakfast, dinner, and supper, besides the goûter.

Sisters of charity take charge of the infirmary, kitchens, refectory, linen, and washing: "they know that all holiness which isolates us from those who have need of our assistance is false."

Most careful provision is made for the cleanliness of the children. Warm water is supplied in winter; baths at all times. Every child is supplied yearly with a pair of summer and winter pantaloons new; those of the year preceding become every day's clothing.

House-work, in which the brethren have aid from the children out of class time, is paid to them. Long experience shows how much better for the children this is than when it is made a punishment. Moreover, some children have such need of motion, that great harm may be done them if it be refused them.

"All which appears low to the eyes of men, is an object of emulation among religious, whose vocation aims at the most perfect conformity with the counsels and example of our divine Saviour. Like Him, they dare to touch the Leper banished from man's society; like Him, they despise Pharisaic censure. They would deem themselves unworthy to belong in so privileged a manner to the service of a crucified God, if their heart was under the influence of human opinion, if regards even to their health, which a sensitive conscience often shows them to be superfluous, could arrest them in the accomplishment of their labours."

The brethren sleep in the dormitories among the children. One of them invariable keeps watch in these dormitories, which are lighted. The most careful and rigorous surveillance is exercised. The eldest rise at 5½; the youngest at 7. In winter they go to bed at 8; in summer at 8¾.

Good marks are given to the children, which three times a year are exchanged for books, &c. Marks of conduct, work, and application, for each week, are hung up in the parloir. So likewise the places obtained in the compositions of the week; and the notes of three months, which are sent to friends. Pupils who constantly maintain themselves on the table of good conduct for three months are entitled to a reward. There is a solemn distribution of prizes every year before the short vacation, on the Sunday following 15th of August.

Extraordinary recreations are provided at times; as in summer a long promenade, in which the pupils take with them a day's provisions.

During the recreations of each day, the brethren make themselves children with their pupils, authority disguising itself under the shape of affection. This is the most favourable moment for studying character. They endeavour to gain the confidence of those in whom they have observed bad dispositions by employing the most attractive means of religion, and they have often the consolation of making them teachable and happy.

It is a great point to occupy the children during their recreation, and so to brace the body by exercise, that their nights may be sound and their health good.

Parents can see their children any day, but only at play time, and when they are not in disgrace. They cannot take their children out but on a few particular days.

Punishments are inflicted as sparingly as possible. No master may strike a child.

Children are received from eight to twelve years old. Those under ten are sent in general to the Maison succursale, at Issy. Twenty francs' entrance are paid besides the pension. The number is limited to 1000.

We had first an interview with Monsignor de Bervanger, the founder of this work, to whom, I should think, it must supply perpetual occupation. He sent a most pleasing boy round with us to the different parts of the establishment. In many of the various ateliers work has been suspended; this is an effect of the revolution: in many we saw the pupils at work under their 'chef.' They reach such perfection in their work, as to obtain an easy sale for it, and to gain their subsistence. A large number were playing in high spirits. The premises are necessarily of great extent, and certainly it is a bold and immense experiment, and most interesting. It is not the least astonishing that Monsignor de Bervanger set it on foot without private funds: but its maintenance involves a large degree of ever active charity, both in the brothers of S. Nicolas, who teach these boys, that would otherwise be the refuse of Paris, and who eat and sleep in the midst of them, and in the Sisters of Charity, by whom the kitchen, infirmary, refectory, &c. are served. Thus without the 'celibat' in both sexes, this and every other work of high charity falls to the ground. Not only on the score of expense would it be impossible to conduct such a house without the aid of those who disregard money altogether as a remuneration; not only would it be difficult to find so total a surrender of time and of the whole man in any who had household ties to bind them: but as certain devils cannot be cast out "save by prayer and fasting," so there would seem to be a like proportion of means to end in particular applications of the Cross's healing power. It would appear to be a necessary condition for the restoration of the suffering masses of society, that the highest blessing of the natural man—family life—should be voluntarily surrendered by those who are to be God's instruments in this special work. They who are seen amid the toil and sweat of every day's task to be living a supernatural life of charity,—they, and they alone, can gain the affection of the world's outcasts, and lighten the burden of the Cross which they have first themselves so borne. As I went over this house, and saw its inmates, I comprehended in some faint degree the amount of charity which such a life must require. The musical service, performed by these children themselves on Sunday, is described as very well done, and very interesting. Many of their friends come to hear. I thought their chapel confined for so large a number.

A little book which Monsignor de Bervanger gave us contains a pretty full account of this institution, from which I have taken many particulars given above. He observed that an Englishman not long before had paid them several visits. He was most struck by the terms of intimacy in which the masters lived with the pupils. This has also struck me pointedly wherever I have seen educational institutions in France. There the wall of separation does not seem to exist, which shuts out the English tutor or master from the real state of his pupil's mind, from his prevailing habits, and natural tone of thought. With us, the boy before his master, and the boy by himself or with his schoolfellows, are two beings wholly distinct. Seldom, indeed, can the tutor get at the real living soul with whom he has to deal; still seldomer mould and direct the development of his moral powers. It is, to the best of my belief, a generic difference between Anglican and Roman Catholic education.

As we were walking home, M. Farel told me that in the diocese of Langres alone there were five hundred institutions of Sisters of Charity. "Do you not mean," I said, "five hundred Sisters?" "No," he replied; "not a commune is without them." I asked to how many several parent houses they might belong: he said, to about five. Thus the Sisters of S. Vincent de Paul only form a portion of those dedicated to this work.

Friday, Aug. 11.—I copied the rest of the account of the cure which happened to the novice at the Rue du Bac. The Sisters asked me if I had seen the child who was cured of blindness. I said I had, and that she seemed to me of very limited intelligence, and extremely simple. One of them answered, "Yes; I asked her what she thought when she recovered her sight, to which she replied, 'C'était drôle à voir.'" While I was sitting among a number of the Sisters of Charity transcribing the account, their great cheerfulness—one might almost call it merriment—of tone was remarkable; they were those engaged in the general management of the house at the Secrétariat. There is something too in their faces which indicates inward peace. They look happy. I took the opportunity of reading the pastoral letter of the Abbé Etienne, their superior general, in which the account of the cures was contained. It was written to encourage them amid the unsettled state of public affairs. He reminded them that the Revolution of 1830 opened with a much more threatening aspect towards religion; and yet the period of eighteen years which they had since passed through had been one of unexampled progress and prosperity to their Institution. The times in which their founder S. Vincent de Paul lived were likewise most unsettled, but he only saw in that a larger opportunity for charitable exertions; he had promised his children, that so long as they were faithful to their rules the Divine protection should never fail them, and God had, beyond doubt, granted these two miraculous cures to the intercessions of S. Vincent at the opening of another momentous crisis to assure them that their Saint had not lost his power with God. He felt the greatest confidence in their zeal and charity and spirit of union, which made his own task light. Before leaving the house I visited their chapel again, which has to me a peculiar interest, on account of what is said to have taken place there.

I here insert the account of the cures, which I copied from the original, and the attestations, which I procured from the two surgeons who had treated the several cases. The superior-general thus introduces the mention of these two cures:—"This is not all, my very dear Sisters. At a time when, perhaps, yet greater trials are in store for the Church and for us, and when, perhaps, likewise, yet greater mercies are to reward our faith, God has thought fit to set, as it were, the seal of His Omnipotence on our confidence, and to show by prodigies all the power of S. Vincent's protection at the throne of Divine Goodness. Two astonishing cures have taken place this year before the shrine of S. Vincent, during the 'neuvaine' of the translation of his relics. I do not qualify them as miracles, because the ecclesiastical authority alone has the power so to term them. But my heart feels the need of bringing to your knowledge the details concerning them, because I know all the joy and edification which you will experience in them, and how proper you will esteem them to encourage you to draw closer the ties which bind you to your holy calling, and to lead you to appreciate the designs of God for our two families, if we are faithful in corresponding to them. I shall preface the account of each healing by the certificate of the medical man, which sets forth the state of the patient at the moment when it took place."

"Attestation du chirurgien sur la maladie de la sœur Marie Javelle.

"Le 2 Mai 1848 j'ai été appelé au couvent de la rue du Bac, n^o 132, pour la sœur Marie Javelle, âgée de 24 ans, que j'ai trouvée couchée, ayant la tête inclinée sur l'épaule gauche, qu'elle touchait presque, avec raideur des muscles du cou, impossibilité de la ramener à sa position naturelle, et douleur vive, augmentée par les moindres mouvements. On m'apprit que cet état avait été la suite immédiate d'un coup violent, porté par mégarde sur la tempe droite.

"M. Lenoir, chirurgien de l'hôpital Necker, vit cette malade avec moi le lendemain 3 Mai. Sans rejeter la possibilité d'un simple torticolis, nous eûmes, ensemble, la pensée d'un déplacement d'une apophyse articulaire du côté gauche de l'une des dernières vertèbres cervicales.

"Le danger de la réduction de ces déplacements, que nous fîmes connaître à la supérieure, l'absence jusqu'ici d'accidents graves, nous déterminèrent à nous borner à l'application des moyens propres à calmer la contraction des muscles du cou.

"Les jours suivants, les accidents augmentèrent. Il survint de la fièvre, la tête s'inclina davantage sur l'épaule; la malade eut de la peine à boire, ce dont je m'assurai en lui voyant avaler, par saccades convulsives, quelques gorgées de liquide. Le bras gauche devint douloureux jusqu'à la main, dont le contact retentissait péniblement jusqu'au cou; il était dans une extension continuelle, avec raideur tétanique qui ne me permit point de le changer de place. Le membre inférieur gauche, d'abord engourdi à sa partie supérieure, présenta aussi de la raideur.

"La respiration était un peu gênée. Les facultés intellectuelles conservaient leur pleine intégrité. Les choses étaient dans cet état le 8 Mai, à sept heures et demie du matin. Nous avions exprimé des craintes plus graves que les jours précédents. La supérieure n'avait pas osé permettre des tentatives de réduction dont nous avions annoncé les conséquences possibles, auxquelles la malade, bien résignée, se serait prêtée volontiers.

"Le 9 Mai, à sept heures et demie du matin, sans aucune manœuvre chirurgicale qui soit à ma connaissance, j'ai vu dans le cabinet de la sœur Buchepot (première directrice du noviciat de la communauté) la jeune sœur Marie Javelle, debout, marchant facilement, portant sans effort sa main sur sa tête, celle-ci revenue à sa rectitude naturelle, le cou ayant repris sa forme, sa souplesse, et exécutant tous les mouvements.

"Paris, le 10 Mai, 1848."

Having forwarded my copy of the above to M. Hervey de Chegoin, he returned it to me, with the following attestation, written at the end:—

"Je certifie cette copie conforme au procès-verbal que j'ai avéré de la maladie de la sœur Marie Javelle.

""Hervey de Chegoin,
"Médecin des hôpitaux, &c."

Accompanying it with the following note:—

"Monsieur, j'ai signé bien volontiers la copie que vous m'avez adressée: elle est aussi exacte que le procès-verbal lui-même est l'expression de la vérité dans l'exposé des symptômes pendant huit jours, et de leur disparition subite et complète après la circonstance qui l'a précédée.

"J'ai l'honneur d'être,
"Monsieur,

"Votre très obéissant serviteur,  
"Hervey de Chegoin.

"31 Juillet, 1848."

The relation of the cure itself is as follows:—

"Detailed relation of the healing of the Sister Marie Javelle.

"The Sister Marie Javelle, twenty-four years of age, after having proposed three months at S. Stephen, entered into the community of the Daughters of Charity, Feb. 17. 1848. Having been appointed to nurse in one of the infirmaries on the night of 30th April to 1st May, in supporting a patient who fell back on her head, she twisted her neck, and so considerable a derangement took place, that it continued in that position. The next day inflammation ensued, and the surgeons called in were themselves alarmed at the gravity of the accident. Before attempting an operation as dangerous as the injury, and which, touching the spinal marrow, might cause instant death, all remedies were tried, but to no purpose. The nerves contracted, the head became stiffly fixed on the shoulders, presently the arm and left leg became paralysed, and the pains so violent, that at times the patient feared not being able to bear them. All her hope was in God: she begged of him courage, resigned herself to His will, and besought much the Blessed Virgin, whom she tenderly loves, and who has already given her special marks of protection. At length came Sunday, 7th May, day on which commenced the 'neuvaine' of the translation of S. Vincent de Paul. That day she had the consolation of communicating in bed, with a morsel of the Host, for her throat being twisted, she joined to her other sufferings that of not being able to swallow more than some drops of water, and that with incredible effort and pain. She expressed a desire to make, in union with the Seminary, a 'neuvaine' to S. Vincent to obtain a cure. On Monday the surgeon declared, that he had no hope but in the success of the operation, and dangerous as it was he pressed it. It was thought requisite to speak plainly to the patient, and tell her, that she would either be healed by means of the operation, or remain an invalid all her life, asking her which she preferred. I shall be composed, she replied, in doing the will of my Superiors, being assured that I am doing that of God. However, it was resolved to finish the 'neuvaine' before attempting anything. Sister Mazin, our most honoured mother, had sent her before a morsel of the waistcoat of our blessed Father S. Vincent. In the night of the 7th to 8th May the patient had the strange fancy to swallow a morsel of this. Not venturing to do it without speaking, she waited till the morning, when, by help of a little water, she swallowed some threads. Scarcely had she done so, when she felt the most perfect conviction that she should not die, and that she should obtain her cure by the intercession of S. Vincent. At one in the afternoon, seeing near her one of the directresses of the seminary, she told her, that could she see the Saint's shrine, and touch it, she should be immediately cured. It was observed to her that this latter was impossible; but she so urged the former, that we were touched by it, and endeavoured from that time to find means to satisfy her keen desire. With the consent of our excellent superiors, a litter was procured; it was arranged as well as we could: and after passing a whole hour in dressing her suitably, at four in the morning on Tuesday, 9th May, she was put on the litter, and the dangerous passage from our house to the chapel of S. Vincent de Paul was undertaken. She was accompanied by the Sister Azais, Sister Girardot, second and third directresses of the seminary, Sister Martha Velay, formerly mother of the seminary, Sister Boscredon, employed in the seminary, Sister Bonneau, third infirmière, who had herself attended on the young patient, by Dominic Belyn, called Louis, and John Scipio, called Baptist, both servants of the house, who carried the litter. During the passage the patient suffered much. In spite of herself complaints escaped her, and especially when the litter was set down in the church she felt so keen a pain that a cry burst from her. The moment she perceived the Saint's shrine, she looked at it with the most lively confidence, and felt an extraordinary movement in her person. At the beginning of Mass she felt inclined to join her hands; in fact, her left arm recovered the necessary strength, and her hand reached the other again. At the Gospel a movement like her first caused her to take her head with her hands, and turn it without difficulty to the other side. At the elevation of the Mass, Sister Azais, who was near her, told her to try and rise; she made the attempt, but was unable, and answered, that it was not yet time. She had continued to suffer much up to this point. At length the Communion was brought her. Her throat was so closed, that she felt a great pain, but this was the last. Some minutes afterwards she came down readily from the litter, unassisted by any one. After this Mass she heard, as a thanksgiving, that of M. Etienne, our superior general,—came back on foot, and from that day, far from preserving the least feeling of her injury, she is better than she ever was. This is attested by the sister on whom the miracle has taken effect, who has signed the present act, as have the witnesses named above.

"Marie Azais, Cecile Girardot, Marie Javelle, Marthe Velay, Justine Boscredon, Josephine Bonneau, Dominique Belyn, and Jean Scipion.

Note. "It is well to observe that, on the 2nd of May, the surgeon of the house, M. Hervé de Chegoin, was called in alone to see Sister Marie Javelle, and the case appeared to him so grave, that, not liking the single responsibility of it, he begged to join a colleague, whom he brought the next day.

"The 8th of May, the last day on which M. Hervé had seen her before her cure, he had found her so ill that, on the morrow, when he was told that Sister Javelle had no further need of his services, he asked if she was dead.

"The young sisters, then composing the seminary, begged that their names should be joined to this act, to attest its truth, and to put themselves in a special manner under the protection of S. Vincent. This writing being to be inclosed in a silver gilt heart joined by a chain of the same to a head in silver gilt likewise, the whole has been put into the hands of our most honoured father, M. Etienne, to be deposed on the shrine of the saint."

The second case is as follows:—

"Attestation du Médecin sur la Maladie de Madlle. Céleste l'Allemand.

"Je soussigné, médecin, demeurant à Paris, Rue Mouffetard, 94., certifie que la nommée Marie Céleste l'Allemand, agée de quatorze ans, native de Jussy, département de la Haute Saône, résidant actuellement à Paris, Rue de l'Arbalette, 25., dans l'Ouvroir des Jeunes Economes, a été traitée par moi, puis par M. Sichel, pendant environ huit mois, pour une amaurose complète; et que les divers traitements employés, tant par moi que par mon confrère, n'ont nullement amélioré la position de cette jeune personne, quoiqu'ils aient varié à l'infini depuis le mois d'Octobre dernier jusqu'au mois d'Avril, où elle a cessé tout traitement."

"Signé, Fernet, D. M.

"Paris, 23. Mai, 1848."

"Relation of the Miraculous cure of a Child of Mary, de l'Ouvroir des Jeunes Economes.

"We, the undersigned children de l'Ouvroir des Jeunes Economes, established at Paris, Rue de l'Arbalette, 25., certify the truth of the following details of the sudden cure of one of our dear companions, named Céleste l'Allemand, child of Mary, of our ouvroir. This companion, aged fourteen, had entirely lost her sight from the month of September, 1847. Six medical men, successively called in to attend on her, had exhausted all the resources of their art upon her without obtaining the least result. They had declared that the optical nerves of our young companion were paralysed, and that she was struck with a complete amaurosis; consequently all medical treatment had ceased since last April.

"Painfully affected at this sad state of our companion, we resolved to consecrate to Mary the month of May, then beginning, in the intention of obtaining her cure by the intercession of the most holy Virgin. From the 1st of May our young companion went to pray every day before the altar of Mary, with the firm confidence that the immaculate Mary would restore her sight before the end of her favourite month. But on the 9th of May, the news of the striking cure worked on a young sister of the seminary of the Daughters of Charity, by the intercession of S. Vincent de Paul, and before his relics, exposed in the chapel of the Priests of the Mission on the occasion of the 'neuvaine,' celebrated yearly in honour of the translation of his body, suggested to us the desire to recommend our young companion to this great saint. Permission was granted to Céleste l'Allemand to go to pray before the relics of S. Vincent de Paul. It was Friday, 12th May, on which she went to the chapel of the Lazarists, Rue de Sèvres, 95., accompanied by two of our mistresses, Sister Dumargat and Sister Desbré. We were all fully convinced that she would obtain her cure by the intercession of Mary, our good [mother], and S. Vincent. Not being able to accompany Céleste to the chapel of S. Vincent, we heard the holy Mass in the chapel of our house, uniting ourselves to her in heart and spirit. As to our companion, she heard a Mass celebrated at a quarter-past-six, before the altar of the holy Virgin in the chapel of the Lazarists, and received there the Holy Communion. At the moment she received our Lord, her sight was suddenly restored to her; and a violent pain in the head, which she had felt from the moment of her loss of sight, disappeared at the same time. The sister who accompanied her, ignorant of what had taken place in her, took her by the hand again, after the Holy Communion, to reconduct her to her place. Our young companion, fearing to disturb her in her thanksgiving, let her do so without informing her what had happened to her. But a quarter of an hour afterwards she made known to her her happiness; and to prove to her the reality of her complete cure, she changed her position herself, and named to her different surrounding objects, which she perfectly distinguished. After having heard a Mass of thanksgiving, she hastened to return to us, to make known to us her happiness. Though we expected to see her return healed, on account of the greatness and simplicity of her faith, a lively joy and gladness broke forth not the less in all the house on her arrival. It was who should see her first, to congratulate her on the signal favour of which she had just become the object. After this first explosion of our gladness, we assembled to chant in choir the Magnificat, during which tears of joy streamed from our eyes: then we went to the chapel to sing the Te Deum and the Regina Cœli. Immediately after, Céleste wrote with her own hand a letter to her parents to inform them of her miraculous cure.

"Our young companion having been presented to M. Aladel, our good director, was named by him Marie Vincent, in gratitude for her cure, obtained at the altar of the Most Holy Virgin, in the chapel of S. Vincent, before his relics exposed.