THE SISTERS OF VINCENNES,

hands, are still preserved as precious relics at Vincennes, a treasure scarcely less valuable in the eyes of its inhabitants than would be a vestment of St. Ambrose or of St. Charles Borromeo to a native of Milan, or the identical cloak (supposing that it were known to be in existence) that was left at Troas by the Apostle of the Gentiles to a Christian of Philadelphia or of Corinth.

When M. Brûté visited his clergy, he never would allow the priest to give up his bed to him; nor did he relax this rule even in his last sickness. He used to insist upon the priest being the first to lie down; and after smoothing his couch for him with the gentle tenderness of a mother, he would wish him good night. If, as was sometimes the case, the apartment of the priest was not separated from that appropriated to Divine worship, the Bishop would spend the whole night in prayer before his beloved Master. If otherwise, he would lie down on the floor, or on the same bed with the priest. One cold winter's night, a few months before his death, a priest, whose hut he had visited, was very earnest in pressing him to make use of his bed. The Bishop was not to be persuaded. At last a compromise was effected. It was agreed that they should emove the bed from its bedstead, and placing it on the floor, should make use of it together. Accordingly, they lay down side by side, the Bishop not forgetting his usual practice of smoothing down the bed-clothes for his companion, and then covering him up in such a manner as would best protect him from the cold.

"But, my lord," said the priest, "you are giving me all the coverlet, and keeping none of it for yourself." "Oh, no," replied the holy man with his wonted sprightliness of manner, "look, you have got no more than the half!"

During the night his companion discovered that the Bishop was stealthily contriving to shift more of the coverlet away from himself and on to him. At first he threw it back again, imitating the motion of a per son tossing about in his sleep. Again the Bishop en

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deavoured to restore it to the priest, but as gently as possible, for fear of awakening him, and again a toss similar to the former returned it to its original position. Ah, ah," said the Bishop," then you are not asleep, I see. And thus the contest terminated in a mutual burst of laughter, such as would gush forth with a natural simplicity from hearts like theirs, devoted to the love of poverty and abandonment of self. The priest, however, remonstrated with his lordship for his imprudence, upon which the latter excused himself by saying that he was afraid lest he should catch cold, and he dared not get up and stir the fire lest he should disturb him in his sleep. "Yes," persisted the priest; "but what was to have become of yourself?"

"Oh," said the Bishop, "nothing can be of any consequence that happens to a poor old man like me.'

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It was then about three o'clock in the morning, and the Bishop refused to get into bed again, on the plea that he had a good many prayers to say; and so he continued in meditation until the time came for his departure.

In fact, prayer was with M. Brûté the constant habit of his soul. It seemed perpetually to breathe forth from his heart, like perfume from a flower. It is impossible to describe the fervour with which he would lift up his heart to God by night and by day; nor did he ever interrupt his spiritual exercises, but to devote himself to the cares of his episcopal office, or to reflect on the means at his disposal for the relief and succour of his clergy. It occurred to him one night, for example, when in the midst of his prayers, that one of his priests must be in want of money. Having none of his own, he hastily borrowed a few dollars in the town, and despatched them to him at once, together with a letter, bidding him apply to him whenever he required any more; and this was the practice he invariably enjoined upon all his clergy.

The Bishop was in the habit of frequently visiting a priest who lived at the distance of some leagues,

CHAPTER IL.

OUR narrative commences with the year in which Monseigneur Brûté departed to his reward. In the little market-town of Ruillé on the Loire, there was settled at that time a congregation of religious women, under the title of Sisters of Providence. M. de la Hailandière, who had succeeded M. Brûté in the See of Vincennes, had cast his eye upon this community, as one from which he shoul wish to introduce an offshoot into the immense diocese which he had been called to govern. At the time of his visit to the convent for the purpose of making this proposal, the Sisters were all engaged in their periodical retreat. To none of them had the thought ever occurred of becoming an instrument in the hand of Goa for spreading the Catholic Faith over the trackless wilds of North America. They were but a small com munity, maintaining themselves not without difficulty and exercising their various works of charity within very limited bounds. The hearts of the good Sisters, however, were equal to greater things than these. Their courage was not damped by the vastness of the undertaking, but they at once acceded to the invitation of the Bishop with cheerful and generous devotion; six Sisters were chosen, and it was determined that they should join the Bishop in America the following year.

It may be easily conceived with what zeal the Sisterhood of Ruillé would bring all its resources to bear upon so important an enterprise. Its own coffers were speedily exhausted; and when the charity of the neighbourhood had also been drawn upon to the utmost, the sum placed at the disposal of the Sisters amounted to no more than about one hundred and twenty pounds. This, it must be acknowledged, was but a small provision for a journey to a country situated upwards of

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THE SISTERS OF VINCENNES.

six thousand miles away, and undertaken for the pur pose of establishing an institute in a land unknown, under the auspices of a Bishop who was himself possessed of no other resource than the providence of God. His lordship had indeed promised a donation of lands not yet brought under cultivation, but he had not concealed the fact, that in this was summed up all the wealth he had it in his power to bestow. The Sisters, however, not at all disheartened, proceeded to make all necessary preparations for their voyage. Nor was it long before they experienced the truth of God's promises, that He will never fail those who out their trust in Him. They had not yet quitted Ruillé, when they received from a most unexpected quarter, and without solicitation, a bountiful gift, by which their little capital was doubled. On July 16, 1840, the Feast of our Lady of Mount Carmel, they received the blessing of their Bishop, and left Mans for Havre. Here a small chest was sent to them, described as containing sweetmeats. "What can missionaries," thought they, "want with sweetmeats?" and they even deliberated whether they should not return them to the donor, as a superfluous and troublesome addition to their baggage. Finally, however, they determined on opening the chest, when they found several pieces of gold in it, enclosed in a bag of orange-flowers.

The deportment of the Sisters during the voyage gained them the respect of a ship's company which was both English and Protestant. Every day they retired into their cabin, to say their office and to sing the praises of God, to whom they committed the success of their enterprise more and more heartily the nearer the time approached for entering upon its labours. Forty days had elapsed ere they reached New York. All were rejoiced at the sight of land once more save only the Mother Superior, who, seated on the deck, gazed with sadness on that foreign shore. She was troubled at the thought of what would become of those five dear Sisters intruste to her care m this