Life and correspondence of Théophane Vénard

First chapter

Theophane's childhood: the bel-air hillside. — first signs of vocation. — The College of Gifted: Happy Qualities of the New Pupil.—First Communion.— Death of His Mother. — close friendship with his sister Mélanie.

Saint-Loup-au-Thouet is a small town in the department of Deux-Sèvres in the diocese of Poitiers, located a few leagues north of Parthenay, in a rich and deep valley. There begins this beautiful golden valley which gave its name to the town of Airvault (Aurea-Vallis), a small commercial town, a beautiful Gothic church, ruins of an old castle; the surroundings are very pleasant) built in an amphitheater, only five kilometers from its more modest sister. This one, surrounded by its many hills, is difficult to discover even at a short distance; but the traveler, who arrives only after a long circuit within the enclosure of its walls, seems to guess today, for this humble city, titles of glory unknown to men. In spite of the malevolent assertion of a modern author, its population is too religious for one to be able to suspect in it even a remnant of Voltairian spirit. Supposing that it is true that the father of the author of the Henriade was born in these places, which is not absolutely proven, at least their peaceful inhabitants will henceforth have the right to be proud of a better and purer glory. Saint-Loup, in fact, is a holy city; his land, a chosen land. Thirty-five years ago she gave birth to a child who was to be an apostle of the faith in distant climes, and this child today is an illustrious martyr.

Jean-Théophane Vénard was born in Saint-Loup on the twenty-first of November 1829, the day of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin: it was like a happy omen of his tender devotion for Mary, a devotion which only grew until the time of his immolation. He had the good fortune to belong to one of those Christian and patriarchal families, so rare today, in whose spirit religion and honor occupy first place. His father, Mr. Jean Vénard, from a family originally from Anjou, fulfilled with as much intelligence as dedication his modest duties as a free teacher to the many children of the parish. It was only after thirty years of this tiring work that Mr. Vénard resigned his duties to fulfill the office of clerk to the justice of the peace of the canton, of which Saint-Loup is the chief town; there, again, his experience of business and his excellent judgment gave him the opportunity of rendering the most signal services to all, until the day when the Lord put an end to his laborious career.

Mr. Vénard's wife, Mrs.^me Marie Guéret was a gentle and pious woman, simple and loving, who confined herself entirely to the care of her home. She gave birth to six children: the last two, Josephine and Antonin, hastened to ascend with the angels, barely eight days after their birth; for the four others, Mélanie, Théophane, Henri and Eusebius, this story, which we are beginning, will very often bring their names to our pen. Under the direction of such privileged parents, the young Théophane developed rapidly and early on gave rise to the finest hopes. At the same time, his piety was revealed by signs which showed in him the already perceptible action of grace, aided by a rich fund of natural qualities. Soon one could observe in his person the happy alliance of the gentle and amiable humor of his mother with the firm and resolute character of his father.

Early Theophane appeared at school among the other children; but when his father showed him for the first time on the benches of the class, he could already give him as a model. Those who then received, from M. Vénard, the benefit of primary education, remember with happiness the charming contrast which existed between the small size of their young comrade and his always serious and serious bearing. To these first virtues, Théophane added still simple and modest tastes, the love of solitude, reflection and reading. Also, as his father then farmed some land himself, he was really happy when obedience made it his duty to drive to the meadow or keep his cow or goat on the hillside; there, indeed, his heart could at the same time satisfy all his desires. This meadow and this hill have an important place among the causes that influenced the vocation of our martyr; there are touching memories that will never fade from memory.

The countryside of Saint-Loup possesses beauties worthy of attracting attention; but its main wealth is given to it by its two rivers, the Thouet and the Cébron, which cut it agreeably here and there in an infinity of hills and valleys. Between the two beds of the Cébron and the Thouet, but closer to the latter, is a hillside, called the hillside of Bel-Air, because of the charm of its point of view. On spring days especially, it is one of the most pleasant and poetic aspects. It was there that Theophane, a nine-year-old little shepherd, came from time to time with his beloved sister, singing, reading with complaisance and piety, sometimes crumbling, in his childish naivety, the bread for his collation with the little ants of the path. Then he directed his steps on the top of the hill, towards the little wood adjoining it, or in the vast meadow situated below. Quite usually a humble girl also grazed her goat in a neighboring field, and at the same time watched over the young Théophane, in the absence of her sister. Eager to edify and instruct herself, she sometimes went to ask M. le Curé for some good books, which might satisfy her pious desires. Theophane, for his part, found happiness in reading aloud the reading which, while edifying his companion, also sowed the seeds of virtues in his own heart.

Among so many different books, that of the Annals of the Propagation of the Faith always had in his mind the preference. His heart was on fire at these moving stories, and sometimes then this child surprised himself dreaming of other steeper hills to climb, another herd to lead to the ends of the world. One day he was reading the life of the Venerable Charles Cornay, whose martyrdom was then quite recent; this narration of the sufferings and death of the soldier of Jesus Christ moved him deeply; he soon felt his heart filled with apostolic enthusiasm, then suddenly a cry escaped from his chest: And I too want to go to Tong-King, and I too want to be a martyr! Some time later, one day when Theophane was with his father in the meadow at the bottom of the hillside of Bel-Air, talking with a seriousness far beyond his age, he suddenly made this reflection: "My father, how can be worth this pre? “But I don't know exactly,” said the father. “Why is that? . - Ah! if you could give it to me, it would be my share, and I would sell it for my studies. and, although later he did not sell the meadow, which from that time on the contrary was more precious to him, it is no less real that it was there like a ray of light illuminating his mind concerning the future of the little boy. Theophane.

After all these details, it is easy to see how the hillside of Bel-Air, the little wood and the meadow are not without importance in the vocation of our martyr, since this was the providential means which God wanted to use to get his way. Mgr de Poitiers must have understood this, and in a very remarkable speech, this memory gave him material for this movement of the sweetest eloquence: O blessed hillsides which dominate the Thouet valley; O blessed paths of the mountain, along which the little nine-year-old shepherd walked, already bearing before God the halo of martyrdom, because his heart contained the wish for it and the future destined him to realize it; ah! henceforth your flowers will be more beautiful, your greenery sweeter, your waters more limpid, your appearance more cheerful! Your spring breezes will be mingled with more exquisite scents, I mean the perfumes of good desires, the emanations of holiness, the celestial odors of divine grace."

The young Théophane soon began to study the elements of the Latin language, in company with other children of the parish, who had already come to the presbytery to be initiated into the same principles. After these first attempts, it was decided that he would go to college to continue his studies.

At this time, a priest of the diocese of Poitiers, of a science and an ability commensurate with his devotion, directed a rather flourishing college in the small town of Doué, in the diocese of Angers. Moreover, Monsieur le Principal was the brother of the venerable priest who, for thirty-nine years, spent his sweats for the parish of Saint-Loup; it was towards this house that the young Vénard directed his steps, in the month of October 1841, in the company of another child who was already attached to him by the ties of friendship, close ties which since that day have become even closer. moreover, to the point of making their two hearts one and the same heart.

The two friends later, in spite of the distance, never forgot this intimacy which dated from childhood: after ten years, Théophane, arrived in Paris, likes to count all the links of this chain; his soul, as he declares, expands with these sweet memories: Until my departure for the Séminaire des Missions-Etrangères, I had a faithful companion in my life, born only a year before me, in the same valley, near the same steeple. The same blessed hand clothed us with the garment of innocence; we saw ourselves playing and studying side by side on the same school benches; and then divine Providence, always good, transplanted us at the same time to another soil, where another father was waiting for us, to receive us in his arms and in his heart. My young friend, more intelligent, graver and wiser, took flight towards a higher class: it was justice; our friendship suffered in no way. He was flying, I was hovering, and everyone was happy with his lot. Mont-Morillon, of sweet and pious memory, received him in passing to send him to a holier abode, where his soul blossomed in knowledge and virtue. I went, myself, to inhale the perfume of his memory at the Petit-Séminaire, and I found him again under the peaceful cloisters to live with himself, with the same life, with the same masters, or rather the same fathers and the same brothers. God, who had bound our souls from their earliest years, was leading them along the same path, with the same thoughts, toward the same goal. And one day, however, we were separated! Oh! hope tells me that we will meet again in heaven!!!

Arrived at the college, Theophane was completely in the accomplishment of his duties. A perfect model for his young classmates in study and in class, he was still one during recreation time; there he showed himself full of ardor and spirit, of a frank gaiety, of an amiability which was addressed to all and excepted no one. Once envy tried to make him pay for the esteem and consideration that his virtue had won him: these little annoyances had to stop very quickly before the goodness of his heart, ready to ask forgiveness for the faults he had not made. ; he wished himself to make the first advances of reconciliation. From then on he knew how to forget everything; and with regard to those who had caused him pain, one could see in his eyes the same serene look, on his lips the same smile full of amenity, which reflected so well the candor and the beauty of his soul.

Théophane, from the beginning, had no difficulty in learning the little practices of devotion in use in well-kept houses, and which nourish the Christian life in a soul; they were, moreover, perfectly in harmony with the tastes and affections of his heart. First of all, he devoted to the Blessed Virgin the love of a little child, and showed great attraction for all the pious works which are connected with the worship of this good Mother. Two months after entering college, on the day of the Immaculate Conception, he resolved to say his rosary every week. Soon it was with happiness that he was registered on the register of the Children of Mary, in the Archconfraternity of Notre-Dame-des-Victoires. Then he enlisted immediately in the great Work of the Propagation of the Faith, happy at least to associate himself thus with the work of the Missionaries, while waiting for him to be able to do more. He was sometimes even caught trying to live their hard and mortified life; and as during the winter he suffered greatly from frostbite on his hands and feet, one day one of his masters, to whom he was giving pain, wanted to offer him asylum in his room and his hearth; he refused, saying: Oh! the Missionaries you were telling us about last night suffer much more than that!

All these happy developments of piety and charity in such a beautiful soul were singularly favored by the reading of the Souvenirs des Petits-Séminaires, Saint-Acheul, Sainte-Anne, Montmorillon, etc. These edifying lives of children of his age interested him to a high degree, and his heart was at the same time quenched by the outpourings of grace, which increased more and more each day as the day approached. happy moment when he was about to be admitted to make his first communion. This act, which, for so many other children, henceforth becomes more and more a simple formality, without serious preparation, was judged quite differently by the young Théophane; he thought about it a long time in advance, he desired its accomplishment, but he also dreaded it with extreme anxiety.

Here it is soon arrived, he writes to his parents, this day for so long desired. Oh ! The best day of my life ! Make your first communion! No, I am not capable of moderating my joy, it is so great. Pray therefore for me to the Blessed Virgin, that she may dispose me to receive her Son well, for one could not prepare too well, or even well enough, for this great action. This is why I also ask your pardon for the faults I have committed against you, and I ask you to give me your blessing.

A child who thus understood the importance of the first communion had to be well prepared for this often decisive act for the rest of life. The days which preceded the appointed time had been mingled with a certain very reasonable fear; but the very day of the First Communion was entirely a day of joy. I remember it, said one of the masters: he didn't know how to express his happiness.

So the Lord, who had himself prepared his soul for the marvels of divine grace, was pleased to inundate him with his purest blessings and joys. The pious child felt all that there is of sweetness in this manifestation of Jesus revealing himself in the heart of man with his celestial charms; and what wonder if again his strong aspirations for the vocation of an apostle escaped from his bosom?

From that time he showed great devotion to the Holy Eucharist; soon he was allowed to make Communion quite often, and then he was so impressed with the great act he was performing that he would gladly have spent part of the day in the chapel. He also loved to visit the Blessed Sacrament during recreation. More than once, always says the same master, I caught myself opening the door of the chapel to edify myself with his contemplation, and I was even obliged to force him out to make him play with his comrades. 'Then no doubt, as with Saint Louis de Gonzague, obedience commanded his piety.

Theophane, on the day of his first communion, had just drawn strength and courage from the source of all graces; he needed it to prepare his soul for the great trial the Lord was about to bring him through. After two months of vacation spent in the comforts of family life, a new separation was necessary; but his heart told him, and at the same time the more tender embraces of his mother, that the latter was then bidding him her last farewell. Indeed, three months later, on January 1843, XNUMX, she expired gently in her husband's arms, leaving in the care of his paternity and in the custody of God four still young children. It was a terrible wound made in the heart of the latter; but what sorrow Theophane especially felt at the news of this premature death, a loving, pious and sensitive heart like his, could alone tell. However, in this circumstance, he had enough strength and generosity to forget his own grief and attend to that of others; child of thirteen, these are consolations which he wishes to address to his father, his brothers and his sister; and if, in the naivety of his faith, he hastened to run to the chapel, to ask the Lord again for the life of his mother who was no more, we know it by the conversations he had on this subject, he thought less of himself than of the needs of his younger brothers.

God had given it to us, he took it away from us: blessed be his holy name! Such are more or less the words of the holy man Job, let us imitate him in our sad situation. Ah! dear brothers and dear sister, God who takes care of the smallest birds, will not abandon us! Hope in him.

Dear Papa, when you wrote to me that my good mother was very weak, I allowed myself to be seduced, and I thought that my prayers and my tears could obtain that she lived a little longer, for the support of our young age. . But the Principal told me little by little of the misfortune that had just befallen us. The hour was fixed by the Almighty for his death, and it pleased him to draw him to himself to be our protectress in heaven, with the two little angels who owed him the day. Oh ! once again, blessed be his holy name! This is how he pleases to test his creatures here below. Let us therefore put on the shield of faith on this occasion; let us have recourse to religion, it alone can console us in our sorrows.

I shed many tears upon hearing this news, and I hope my prayers will be answered for the salvation of his soul. Ah! may it please God that she now enjoy in heaven the happiness which awaits the elect!

However, this cruel ordeal was not without consolation for the poor child. The Christian life of M^me Venard allowed little doubt of the salvation of her soul, and all had rather the hope that the Lord had already judged her worthy to take her place among the elect. For Theophanes, God wanted to give him a more positive assurance; or, if it is thought that we are going too far, let us say that God permitted for his eyes an illusion which could console his heart and raise his courage. What is certain is that the pious child always kept the deep conviction of having seen his mother in the glory of heaven, a few days after her death; and what would lead us to believe it also is the discreet and almost total silence that he kept on this subject. Several years after the event, the memory of this sweet vision was still very much alive in his mind, and when he was about to leave his family forever, he only thought he had to communicate to everyone the celestial favor which had been arranged for him. I think I can assure you, he told them, that our good mother is in heaven. This is why, I tell you for your consolation, but you will tell no one about it: At the time of his death, one night when I was watching, an angel took me by the hand and led me to a great light, at the in the midst of which I perfectly recognized the one we loved so much and also cried so much.

It was also from this painful period that the young Théophane and his sister Mélanie tightened between them these sweet bonds of fraternity, which already united them so closely; From then on they maintained an intimate correspondence, which was inexhaustible until the last day, and in the writing of which Theophane put all his soul. His letters have remained as monuments of his tenderness and his piety, and they are at the same time models of good taste. Bishop de Poitiers could make this just remark about them: "It is there, in his correspondence so full of interest, that his deep sensitivity, his exquisite delicacy and also his easy talent, his perspicacious mind served by an imagination graceful and by sound judgment. It has been very sweet for us to leaf through these pages! We have more than once covered them with our kisses, and we have to ask forgiveness for having smeared some of them with our tears."

During the winter of 1844, he wrote: "It is to you that I address myself this time, my good sister: how sweet it is for me to show you my feelings! without thinking of you, and I must, for you are so dear to my heart! This winter, oh, I'm sure of it, you said: Theophane is very cold, and I am near a good fire. Don't worry though: although I suffered from the cold, I had a lot of fun sliding on the snow and on the ice. Now the weather is less harsh, and I'm taking advantage of a little moment to pour out my heart in yours. ."

The good brother goes on to give his sister some good advice; and the end of the letter shows us his fraternal love inspiring him with the thought of making sacrifices, in order to be able, with the small savings which will be the fruit of them, to offer his sister some present, and his young brothers rewards which the generosity of her heart should above all make her very precious. Then his brother Henri soon went to join him at college, and it was truly touching to see the cares of all kinds with which he surrounded him. Never did his heart fail for a moment in his duties as an elder brother.

In 1843, the Archconfraternity was to be established at the college of Doué: the young Théophane joyfully announced it to his sister; From then on, he could in fact better prove his love to Mary. Then he had just been appointed sacristan of the chapel, an honor which his piety greatly esteemed; for, besides the fact that he will have to adorn his Mother's altar with his hands, his duties will also serve him as a pretext for going to pray to her more often. Yesterday, he said, during recreation, I went to say my rosary in the chapel; I was, I don't know why, a little melancholy, and I started crying like a child. However, you know that I am not a very weeper. I cannot say what happiness I tasted while shedding those tears. I was happy !

Another time he writes again: Often, my dear sister, during my work, my thoughts go to you. I seem to see you working while singing, to hear you speak. I am your smallest actions. Although separated, our desires, our thoughts merge. Our prayers have the same purpose. Oh ! how sweet it is to pray for each other, to pray for a beloved father, to pray for one's friends! Prayer spreads in the soul a salutary balm, gives birth to an inexpressible calm. Here, on the day of our patronal feast, at the greeting of the Blessed Sacrament, the Blessed Virgin seemed to smile in the midst of the torches which reflected their light on her. I was thinking of you, and you were then at Vespers of the Archconfraternity. I prayed for you, and, I am sure, your prayer joined mine. And then, when you have prayed, you are happy, you feel relieved.... But I would like to be among you... Oh! when will we be allowed to be no longer separated? When will we be able to live together, entrust each other with our sorrows, our joys, taste the same pleasures?

Thus, it seems that the pious Theophanes already wants to prepare his people for the great separation which will take place in a few years, and on the other hand, however, nature and grace are engaged in the fiercest battles in the depths of his heart. But all these features that we have just mentioned relate to the first years of college of our future martyr, they are the works of his childhood, a fertile childhood which was already producing fruits worthy of mature age. Here come now the years of a young man: the interest which they offer grows with the hero who is going to run through them.

Chapter two

Young Man's Years: Theophanes in Rhetoric. —

inner struggles between nature and grace. — judgment on his college years. — poetic essays. — philosophy class at the minor seminary of Montmorillon: his devotion to the Blessed Virgin and his proverbial enthusiasm. — valuable advice to his younger brother. — a bit of politics in 1848. — why he is in a hurry to leave Montmorillon.

In October 1846, Théophane enters into rhetoric:

My dear Dad,

Lucky who near the fire can have tweezers!

I read, only a moment ago, in one of our poets. Yes, but that doesn't concern me, I say to myself; good for those who have fire, because to have tweezers without fire is to have a saddle and no horse. However, it is not yet time to complain, because it is not cold. But I have a certain frostbite on my index finger which stung me when I was writing: My dear Papa. Perhaps also, let's face it, it's the desire to quote. Besides, I can easily be forgiven for that, I'm in rhetoric... But I seem to hear Melanie say: So there's nothing for me? - Oh! whether! my whole letter is for you as for the others; but you're jealous, you want something special. Well! console yourself, the next time I take up my pen, it will be for you."

A little later he wrote to his sister:

My dear Melanie,

"..... Since it is a question of temperature, I must also say that it is cold. So, therefore, warm yourself well lest you catch a cold. For me, I am going to bed . Good evening,

But let's not digress today. Let's talk reasonably, because I told my pen to be wise. Since I went to college, I find myself a bit alone, and I can say, like the sensitive Fénelon: All my ties are broken. But this will not last long; and then we can still talk to each other, although separated from each other. O the admirable invention that the post office! Every day I would be able to offer incense to the one who established it, if we were still in the midst of paganism. So, I'm far from my good sister, I can't kiss her every night, before going to bed, but I take a little sheet of paper, I write on it: My good Mélanie, I love you. well and I will always love you; and pst! in a moment you hear from me. Oh ! once again, what an admirable invention the post office is!

On the occasion of the renewal of the year, he wrote to his father:

"My dear Dad,

Here we are exposed to a bitter and continual cold; but if winter numbs our limbs, if our body is subject to it, at least it has no hold on my heart. Whatever happens, whatever the season, whether my chilblains disappear or come back, my heart always remains the same, always burning with love for you, always ready to give you signs of it. I therefore cannot allow a new year to begin without renewing to you all the wishes that I make every day for your happiness. It is said that the first of the year is the day of lies: this may be true for those who say so. As for me, I always see it approach with pleasure, because it is especially at this moment that, following the course of nature, filial love is renewed and takes on new strength. In a word, dear Papa, I wish you a happy new year.

In an analogous circumstance, at the end of his philosophy, he also wrote to his godfather:

"My dear Godfather,

Alas! I lost all my flowers! The cold wind of philosophy has passed, and of these young plants cultivated with so much care, my eyes search in vain for the trace. And I go, gloomy and pensive, to visit my devastated parterre. Nothing, nothing! However, the feast of friends has come, and to him who is more than a friend to me, I have nothing to show but regrets and tears. No, banish the crying. Man lives in hope! Hope! Yes! I feel it beating inside me. Well then, the hope of a happy future, this is what I beg you to accept,

Dear Godfather, Your respectful godson.

Theophane was about to turn eighteen, he was in rhetoric, about to finish his studies; consequently thoughts of the future must, sometimes at least, present themselves to his mind. Although her heart had long been given to Jesus Christ, despite the burning aspirations of her childhood, which were certainly not forgotten, despite her faithful correspondence to divine grace, or rather because of all this no doubt, the demon fought hard against him. It is to his sister that the young rhetorician tells of the troubles resulting from this sad state of his soul:

"My dear Melanie,

... We must speak a little of the Blessed Virgin, of our good Mother, and I confess that I have not done so often enough this year. Really, would I have changed? Oh ! no, I don't believe so. For some time there has been something that has been bothering me. I'm nearing the end of my classes, and I don't yet know my vocation: it torments me. However, I do feel called to the ecclesiastical state. I say to myself: Oh! how beautiful it is to be a priest! Oh ! How beautiful it is to say a first mass! But that one must be pure, purer in a way than the angels! That's why I still hesitate. If you don't mind, join your prayers to mine, they will be much better heard, when they mutually strengthen each other. Do you want, or rather why say: Do you want? Would you please, on the first Sunday of Lent, offer the good Lord a communion for this intention; I intend to prepare myself for that day.

Another time he writes again: O my good sister, write to me now, for I expect consolation from you. Revive in my heart the hope that is almost gone. It is a beautiful mission that you have to fulfill with me. I would like to laugh again, but it's in spite of myself, because I don't really want to. I expect your letter in the first days of May.

However, in these moments of unspeakable distress, Theophane's heart had not lost the memory of Mary: O Mary! how I love this word! Married! that is, our Mother, good and compassionate; Mary, refuge of afflicted hearts; Marie, under whose wing we both took refuge, like young chicks under their mother's wing at the approach of the enemy. I love Marie very much, but it seems to me that you love her even better than me... —Then he returns to his grief: .... Yes, I am so bored that I cannot 'express. It is only to you that I dare to say such a thing, to make such a confession. But you, you are half of me. I can without fear pour into your heart my sorrows and my sorrows; because you are more than a sister to me, you are a guardian angel.

Finally, little by little calm will be re-established in this soul; by the influence of grace it will soon recover all its original serenity:

"Good Melanie,

Thank you, good sister, thank you, a thousand times thank you for your charming letter! Oh ! how good you have done me! Again, thank you with all my heart, that's all I can say.

The month of Mary is almost already over: isn't it time we both talked about it a bit! Mary is our Mother, and we are her children, it is only right that we talk about her to mutually strengthen each other in her love. You're thinking of me, Melanie! Oh ! I don't forget you either. — We too celebrate the month of Mary every day, and I love it! much to adorn the altar of the Blessed Virgin. At school we have an immense quantity of roses; the most beautiful, be sure, will be for our good Mother, and it will be very pleasant for me to offer them to her every day. It will be very unworthy hands and heart that will present them to him; but she is so good, Marie, that she receives everyone. Also, it is quite rightly that she is called the comforter of the afflicted and the assured refuge of sinners.

Ah! if you knew how far my poor thought goes, when I reflect alone; especially in my bed, when I'm not sleeping, if you only knew how my poor head wanders! Oh! How happy I would be, I often tell myself, if I were in a cure with Melanie! I would direct others in the right direction; she would adorn the church; then we would both talk about the good God, about the Blessed Virgin, about those we have lost. But a reflection occurs to me: all that is good without doubt; but, in reality, what is the priesthood? It is the detachment from all the goods of the world, the entire abandonment of all temporal interests. To be a priest, one must be holy. To lead others, you must first know how to lead yourself. Then isn't the life of the priest a life of sacrifice, of mortification of every kind? How then could I support such a kind of life, I who am so little advanced in the path of virtue?

These are my reflections, and they are always the same. But also, when I pray to God to enlighten me, I seem to hear an inner voice saying to me: You will be a priest. The good Lord gives graces to those he calls to him. “I find myself happy then. What to conclude from this? "What a terrible thing it is to choose a vocation, and whoever wants to think about it seriously finds himself in a great embarrassment!" However, as far as I am concerned, I have the hope that, despite my unworthiness, the good Lord will want to take pity on me. In the meantime, let us pray, my good Mélanie. Oh ! pray for me. The good Lord is not made of iron; in the end he will allow himself to be touched, since he is our Father and our good Father, and since we have a powerful mediator up there, a compassionate Advocate who wants to be our Mother.

It was therefore a letter from Melanie that served as an instrument for the Lord to bring back hope to the place of anxieties and disgust, in Theophane's heart. So, indeed, the pious maiden herself was wrought by grace about her vocation; she had communicated her plans to her beloved brother, and this confidence, which brought into greater light in Theophane's eyes the piety of her sister, also revived in her heart the love of God. As you must imagine, he said, I have been faithful in fulfilling my promise. I also thought of you at the feasts of Ascension and Pentecost. You pray for me, and for my part I also pray for you. But sometimes (this will make you laugh), while praying to the good God and his holy Mother to enlighten us, I am tempted to ask them for the exact opposite of what you want. 'That's not good, you will say, it's not really loving me. - Oh ! don't be frightened for so little: it's only a thought thrown away as quickly as it came. You see, I can't get used to the idea of ​​separation. The cause of this, oh! it may well be a little bit of selfishness on my part; but you mustn't say that out loud, because it's only a tiny bit.

My dear Mélanie, I will never try to divert you from your plans. No, that would be wanting to deprive you of your crown. But I will tell you frankly that it will be a great sacrifice for me to lose you. So every time I think about it, I ask God for the grace to make me accept it. I only want your happiness. The good Lord is calling you to himself: so much the better for you! I envy your happiness only to desire to enjoy it in the same way and to have a similar fate. Let the Master of destinies regulate ours; and we try to respond to his designs as best we can.

Theophanes heart was not only led by grace towards the sanctuary, but grace wanted to raise it still higher; and that is why she made him consider above all, in the priesthood, what is its very perfection, that is to say, the apostolate. As he will say later himself, he was led as if by hand, without knowing it and without understanding it, in these mysterious ways. We have a touching proof of this in a little note found providentially among his notebooks of rhetoric: we transcribe it with happiness. Then the troubles of his soul and the disgusts of his heart had disappeared, his fervor had become much greater than before the ordeal, his resolutions on the priesthood were fixed: evidently it was a question of something more. Here is that part:

Today, June 1847, XNUMX, in the chapel of the college of Doué, I made to Marie, the Refuge of sinners, the sincere promise to say my rosary until the end of my life, every day, if I then, so that she may obtain for me a great grace from the good God..."

Finally our Theophanes finished his rhetoric. Before leaving school, and as the last monument of his school life, he wants to send his sister a long letter, full of pious perfumes. In a style that a practiced pen would not disdain, he describes in all its detail a magnificent Corpus Christi procession, worthy, it is true, in all respects of this honor, since M. Charles Sainte-Foi himself kindly wanted to repeat its beauty then, testimony of love that he loved to render to Doué, his native town, of which the Catholic writer is also the purest illustration. We do not reproduce the description of this ceremony, but only the serious thoughts it suggests to the pious Theophanes, whose spirit it carries towards the less transient magnificence of Paradise:

"If the religious pomps of the earth are so beautiful, says he, what must be those of heaven? There no more illusion, no more emblems; it is pure and spotless truth, and all the more attractive that the enjoyment of it must be eternal. Eternal! have you sometimes reflected on this word, eternal! which will never, never, never end! As for me, although I am a little dazed, I sometimes reflect on similar subjects. I would even try to understand them; but when I have well built ideas upon ideas and I look at their base, I immediately exclaim: Oh, how simple I am! And my whole edifice crumbles."

Théophane had spent six years at the college of Doué, and, judging by what precedes, he had made rapid progress there in all respects. His piety had grown with his intelligence; his rich and graceful imagination was combined with an already sure judgment, and his happy character offered a pleasant mixture of gravity and frank gaiety, which endeared him to all, masters and fellow students. Full of amenity to everyone, nevertheless he seldom lavished himself; but he liked to concentrate his dearest affections on the members of his family and a few more intimate friends. This attachment for his family became even more than love, according to the ordinary meaning of the word: it was truly tenderness. God permitted it in this way, the better to show in him the power of grace on the day when he would say to him, as formerly to Abraham: "Come out of your house and of your kindred, and go into the land that I will show you."

These happy qualities, so well harmonized in his person, found their complement in an exterior full of modesty and unpretentiousness, in easy and polite manners, in a look which reflected gentleness and delicacy, the perfect mirror of his soul. Also, although he was certainly below average height, one read immediately upon approaching him, on his open face adorned with a slight tint of pink, and in his sparkling little eyes, that this a young man would one day become illustrious before posterity. Moreover, just as in spite of himself his piety, so simple and yet quite naive, appeared on the outside, so also there escaped without his knowledge the frequent testimonies of his qualities of mind and heart, some in his relations familiar with each, the others especially in his school work and his annual successes, which were always very complete and very sustained. Moreover, it can be said that if Theophanes won so many crowns each year, it was because for all things he had a real aptitude; his talent, which embraced the universality of materials, did not allow him to make a choice out of the large number.

The young Theophanes also possessed something of a poetic genius, and among the varied shades of his style this is assuredly the most pronounced. Sometimes, in his spare time, his pen tried to rhyme a few lines; most have disappeared, and he himself, we know, was no stranger to the act of their disappearance. However, we have some pieces found in the middle of his notebooks, and we want to reproduce some extracts from them as a specimen of his kind.

The State Prisoner, rhymed in second class, 1846, contains twelve stanzas: we quote the third and the two that follow, plus the last:

Ah! if at least, I said to the friendly swallow That I saw burning to build her stay, If you could fly to my darling mother, And say hello to her for me!

My happiness with her and my younger brother, My happiness was pure. But, cruel memory The wicked have spoiled it, corrupted it; poor mother! How long have you had to groan!...

“Spring each year beautifies nature; “The poor in his hut, oh sun, can see you; "The abode of the dead is covered with greenery, "Me, I don't even have hope!

Ten past winters have left on my head "Only hair whitened by the breath of pain.

"He moaned thus in his deep pain, "And his downcast eyes shed tears in vain; "His complaint was lost. From the middle of this world" No one thought of his misfortunes. "

The following excerpts are works of rhetoric In Joan of Arc's Departure for War, let us take only three stanzas more beautiful than the others:

" France, dry your tears, because God, in his anger, Has resolved the death of the perfidious islander. " Himself he will thunder against our enemies. He said to me: Go, my daughter, Leave your flock, your fields and your family there, Be the angel of France and the savior of the lilies.

"Farewell, gentle flock! Henceforth when the star That brings back the night to the mysterious veil, Will shine in the sky, then, poor orphan, Sadly returning to your solitary shelter,

And lamenting your misery, Alone, you will swing your Argentine bell.

In a fiery warrior the woman has changed; The shepherdess is no more. Suddenly renewed

My soul is all on fire. The battle pike Replaces the crook; The helmet and the crest sparkle on my head, And the sword on my arm.

Marie Stuart leaves France is a more extended piece; we quote the words of farewell:

"Hello, charming country, my adoptive homeland Who saw my loves for some time.

Farewell ! François is no more, and I am fugitive: But yours I will always be.

"I go, alas! very far; but of me this ship Has only half.

This heart, this heart burning for you alone sighs; I trust it to your friendship.

With you for a long time, with tender prayers, They wanted to keep me,

But a voice calls me to the throne of my fathers, Not to reign, but to suffer.

Hey! why thus deprive me of hope! Hope is everything for my heart;

I'm just entering my teens, And I still believe in happiness.

“Nothing makes me tremble, I do not fear envy, What have I done to suffer?

I was barely born; at the gates of life, I don't want to die yet.

"Farewell, France! Perhaps, oh so dear land, I will be able to see you again one day!

"But if you were no longer for poor Mary, at least keep your love for me"

Then the song ends like this:

Either queen, or captive, happy or in tears, She always loved her (France), until the last day And still repeated on the point of death: Adieu, France! long, O beloved land,

I hoped to see you again one day; But since you are no longer for poor Marie, at least keep your love for me,

In its Song or Dithyramb on Liberty, the young poet, after having reviewed with great verve and enthusiasm the various peoples who have fought on different occasions for this increasingly elusive ghost, exclaims still more enthusiastically:

Suddenly the banks of the Loire Have repeated these threatening cries: War on the English, war on all tyrants! French, avenge the fatherland and the glory!

"But new warriors have passed in front of me! They are Vendeans, the glorious shadows." Land that produced these generous souls,

Chosen land, be proud! When a veil of mourning spread over France, You alone fought for your independence, Your God, your fatherland and your king!

"Shall I sing to you too, forsaken nation Which groans under the weight of a horrible destiny? To extinguish you in silence are you therefore condemned?... No, no, in the distance She appears for you the vengeful dawn ...

One day, one day will come, free from all shackles You will in turn say to posterity: I had cloudy days, my people were slaves

God raised him! Finally, from the height of the heavens he hurled his thunderbolt; Our tyrants have fallen, crushed, reduced to powder, Long live freedom! !

We shall have occasion later to see our Theophane recalling his rhetorical inspirations; and its always graceful and delicate rhymes will charm the reading of our chapters, where they will be sown; according to chronological order.

During the holidays of 1847, Théophane was introduced to the House of Montmorillon, and the following October he entered the Minor Seminary, then directed by a pious, learned and singularly amiable priest, whose truly paternal heart formed the young pupils of the sanctuary, above all showing them a great deal of love. From the outset, the new junior seminarian found himself at ease in Montmorillon. His first letters to his family expressed absolute satisfaction, and later, when time had been able to take away the first impressions, he said again "I am the happiest of men! Did that word come out of my mouth? Well, I say it from the bottom of my heart, my dear Melanie, no one can be happier than I am. However, my happiness is not yet perfect: for I lack the title of congreganist, of Child of Mary, but soon, I hope, I will be enrolled under his beloved banner.

This perfect happiness was not to be delayed for him. In announcing it to his sister, he dwells for a moment on the motto of the Congregation: Cor unum et anima una! Oh! this word can only come from God! is it not the bond which unites man to man, and Christians to each other? Is it not this ineffable word which makes the Missionary, which makes the Priest, the Brother of the Christian Schools, the Sister of Charity, the Sister of the Immaculate Conception? Cor unum! We can apply it to ourselves, because our affections sympathize as well as our projects. Oh! yes, cor unum and anima una! That's what we can say now; this is what, please God, we will be able to say even better later on, since God is calling you to himself. Go, go, my good sister, I will not stop you, despite the sorrow that it will be impossible for me not to feel. But think again, think of our father, our dear father. I have prayed for you, I will always pray. God deign to enlighten us. "

These sweet memories of the Congregation will always remain alive in Théophane's heart, and later he will recall them, thus realizing, in all truth, the pious words he wrote before leaving the Minor Seminary: Ah! what I will regret when I leave are those feasts of the Congregation, which came, from time to time, to spread over the monotonous course of our lives a sweet variety and a perfume fragrant from heaven! But what consoles me is that the future presents me with still brighter hopes.

However, Theophanes' piety, there as elsewhere, was not a severe, somber, taciturn piety; no, she was always amiable, cheerful, expansive, but more particularly at Montmorillon, where her enthusiasm became proverbial after him, and we know such hearts which will never forget her. Moreover, the memory of the ease with which he showed himself in small public celebrations will pass on to future generations.

Despite this joyous and pleasant mood, our Théophane had a serious and serious fund, and certainly he had the right to give advice. For some time already, he had used this right; but, from then on, he made it his duty towards his younger brother, still a child, who, for the first time, had just left the paternal house to sit on the college benches. All the letters of this kind, imprinted with such an attractive stamp, would in themselves form a whole volume; at least, we want to give some extracts, with the desire and the hope that they will be useful to others. But we still find in it a new advantage: it is that this rule of conduct, traced out with so much certainty and precision, will make its author better known to us; for, although his modesty and his delicacy could have prevented it, he had only need to copy himself; he did it without suspecting it:

"My good little Eusebius,

Well! how do we find ourselves from college? Do homework and lessons suit you? I do not doubt it; however, I presume that you like recess and walks even better. I think you have to have a good game there with your friends, don't you? - Here you are at the bottom of the classic ladder. Bravery ! You can sometimes get bored with Latin grammar and get angry with good man Lhomond; but you will reap the fruits of your labor later. The first years will pass very quickly; behave well; remember also the paternal dwelling: this thought will give you ardor by representing to you the love and the sacrifices of our good father.

Another time, the Mentor takes a more decidedly joking tone:

My dear Eusebius, It is half past six in the evening. The wind whistles through the partitions of the door, and the gust can be heard shaking the trees in the yard. Drre, drre, drre! how cold it is! But I pity you even more than me, poor little croquet child! His little handcuffs are full of chilblains, no doubt, and his nose is frozen! Drre, drre! how cold it is! "And such is the life of the true schoolboy!" "But let's leave Mister Winter outside."

Happy New Year, sweetie, Happy New Year! and paradise at the end of your days, which I hope will not come soon. I believe that in the past you liked to see the good woman finish the Year, for several reasons...., but above all because you received gifts. Ah! New Year's gifts, little scoundrel! I guessed the word But college came; farewell, gifts!

farewell, dragees! Our Eusebius will no longer eat sweets, he will no longer receive toys. But he will eat science (which is much better); he will receive good bulletins, Ah! long live science! that is what makes the man. However, it should not be thought that one collects fruits first. Ah! lady ! No. Winegrower, dig your vineyard, if you want to have grapes. Plowman, cultivate your field well, if you want to have good wheat, ut horrea vincat, which means: So that he may cause the floor of the attic to burst. Gardener, don't go drinking at the tavern, but weed your garden to have big and good vegetables. Pupil, do the themes and the versions well, so that one day you will be worthy of fulfilling the charge that will be given to you on earth, and thereby deserve heaven. For it is there, my good Eusebius, where one must always end up in one's actions. Work well, not so that you will be boasted and praised, but because the good God commands you to. Take then for maxim of your life: All for the good God! Pray well and often. Be docile to your superiors, a good comrade to your fellow students, and everyone will love you, and you will be happy.

Finally, Eusebius has just made his first communion; Theophane immediately addressed his compliments to him: My dear little brother, you have just taken a big step in life, one more step towards heaven. For a moment, you stopped to pitch your tent before continuing your journey in the land of exile; you contemplated the past, scrutinized those days of childhood, innocent in the eyes of the world, but not without danger in the eyes of the Christian, Then, kneeling at the feet of the priest, minister of the divine will, you placed in his bosom the faults of human weakness, and the priest, in the name of God thrice holy and thrice merciful, has forgiven you. You have once again become the child of the good God and the friend of the angels, and, as favored as the angels, you have received into your heart Him whom heaven and earth cannot contain. Oh ! who could paint the happiness, the jubilation of the child who receives his God for the first time!

Mystery of love! Who will ever understand it!... Human language is not pure enough to repeat the transports of joy that arise in the one whom God has showered with his graces. The angels know it, this language; may you speak it too one day, little angel of the earth!..., etc., etc., etc.

We will soon find new advice addressed to the same; and as the little brother grows, so will the zealous Mentor grow his many instructions, both in their subject and in the very expression that his word should assume.

Our Theophane, barely eighteen years old, also sometimes took it into his head to treat the. political issue; let us quote only a few passages. It was then the month of March 1848. After having spoken from his point of view, and always very wisely, of the fall of the royalty of 1830 and what followed, he adds:

Ah! poor royalty! How it has been fooled for fifty years! How she has been mocked, hissed at, outraged, dragged through the mire, dressed in the grossest insults, a veritable plaything with which the people have amused themselves, as the child amuses himself with his playthings, and the cat with the mouse .

O Providence! These are also your toys! You lead empires as you please; you alone break down and build up, and men are only blind instruments that you handle according to your good pleasure! So you laugh at their vain projects!

For us, my good friends, the movements of the earth matter little to us; it is not here below that one must fix one's tent. Whatever the governments, God is always the same, as well as his Church...

Fifteen days later, Theophane added with a kind of anguish: The ideas of freedom, engendered by 93, have germinated in the world, and they are beginning to bear very extraordinary fruits. To see the vertigo with which the universe is seized, the peoples throwing off all the yokes and proclaiming themselves free, the thrones tottering and falling, one would say that a genius of discord was stirring the ember of anarchy, blowing the pestiferous wind of revolutions, and lighting a vast fire all over the globe. France has given the impetus, the shock is harsh: what will it not produce?... — We can only make very uncertain conjectures about the future... to the mind and heart of young Theophane; all these symptoms of upheavals, which were already shaking the world, and which he earnestly desired to end, contributed a great deal to make him wish for the end of the year, in order to be able to wait in peace, in the midst of his family, for better days. But, suddenly, this thought that this one year of philosophy has already passed and that he is going to see his family again, makes him tremble with joy and hope.

Yes, a month and a few days, and I will see the balmy sky of my native valley again! Sweet prospect! Beautiful horizon of the future, with what splendor you unfold before my eyes! Moment of return, how beautiful you seem to me! Ineffable joys of a loving heart, which can paint you! Ah! I cry out with the poet: "Run, fly, hours too slow, Who delay this happy day!"

My friends from the Major Seminary will precede me by a whole month; it's a test! My school life has not been without its troubles; Fortunately, troubles fly away with the winds, and after them comes a gentle zephyr! Fortunately, under the thorns is a beautiful rose that my hand must pick!

For the moment, I need this little fresh wind from the valley which caresses and refreshes; this nature, so rich and so varied, is needed to give the young man that well-being which makes him live in body and soul. Until now, I haven't lived; but I will begin to live. Every being here below has a road that he must follow; every being has a starting point and a goal. The sea is agitated, the stream murmurs, the river flows, the plant vegetates, the animal grazes, man lives

and walk to God. But each man goes there in his own way. One searches the earth, the other his thoughts; the laborer provides for the needs of the man; politics, to the needs of society. All, in a word, gravitate toward death following a different path. Man is not free to choose, for he has his career mapped out; every time he deviates from it, there is disorder. Well! I am in a hurry to throw myself into the midst of society; I can't wait to go and serve my brothers: I feel it, such is the race I have to run. Whatever job I look into, none of them appeal to me. I always come back to a single thought: to be a priest! Yes, one day I will be a soldier of Jesus Christ, and the banner of the Church will become my banner! That day is not far off for me; in a little while I shall see the dawn of it. This is why I am happy at the thought that I will return to my homes, and from there to my little cell.

Obviously, if our Theophane is in such a hurry to leave Montmorillon, it is not out of disgust at living at the Petit-Séminaire. No, he defends himself from such feelings, and he adds that he will only leave this blessed house with sweet memories. But his fiery soul is impelled to his marvelous destiny by the grace of the Holy Spirit. And today, when there are barely a few steps to go to reach the end of his journey, the young Levite sees the goal of his desires appear in a day full of brilliance; his walk is carried with speed towards the once distant horizon that his childhood aspirations had made shine in his eyes!

chapter three

The major seminary of Poitiers: virtues he practices there.—He remembers the paternal hearth. — how his piety supernaturalizes all things. — holiday resolutions. — second year: first tonsure. — minor orders. — a few preparatory words for the great news. — he announces it to his sister during the holidays of 1850. — third year: spiritual advice to his sister. — the ordination of the subdiaconate.

Father Vénard entered the Major Seminary, strongly urged by grace to follow the ecclesiastical career. As a serious man, he understood first of all the importance of the Seminary, to acquire the different virtues which should adorn the priest; and considering the brevity of the time devoted to this preparation for the priesthood, he set to work with ardor, and wished that each moment of his life as a seminarian should be marked by new progress. The care he took in this work of sanctification was so persevering and so sustained that, in spite of himself, the merit of his eminent virtues had to escape outside for the edification of his brothers: thus all, without his knowledge, could witness his rapid march along the paths of perfection.

A fine and delicate mind, a distinguished theologian, a judicious critic, a writer of good taste, he seemed to unite everything that ordinarily attracts attention: but none of these qualities could ever make him lose sight of holy humility, he rather applied to pass unnoticed in the crowd. Moreover, the young seminarian wanted the virtue of charity to become the inseparable companion of his sister humility. He made a point of never hurting this beautiful virtue in any way, and he went so far as to completely defend himself even from those mischievous words, those sharp and fine features that his mind would have easily found, and that virtue -even and good education seem to allow. I don't know if I'm mistaken, says one of his former colleagues, now a Dominican, but there is a merit there that has its value. - For the rest, full of kindness towards all, avoiding any company that was even slightly pretentious, loving to blend in with regular and pious pupils, seeking out even those who seemed the least richly endowed by nature, provided they were virtuous, he always kept that candid naturalness, that noble ease which suited him so well; he was humble and small, obliging and charitable, but quite simply, quite naively, quite simply.

Not less than his modesty and his charity, one soon had to notice his exemplary regularity as well as his application to the various studies. Making a real scruple to make good use of all the moments consecrated to work, he showed himself first of all disposed to deny himself, to a certain extent, the enjoyment sweetest to his heart at the same time as the most legitimate, in cutting short his dear correspondences with his friends of the family. Moreover, he did not like to leave his cell, and, fully justifying the sentence of the pious author of the Imitation, there he tasted the sweetness promised to those who keep it faithfully,

"Everything speaks to me," he said, "in my cell; every detail of my household goes to my heart. I love it, my little household! I love it as a mother loves her son. Besides, my household, but it is my son, for it is I who gave birth to him; my household is my friend, my companion; he knows me, I know him too, and we both know each other. everything says something sweet, tender, affectionate to me. I enter: on my right is a holy water font, he says to me: Your cell is a sanctuary, and nothing soiled can enter it. And I, I leave worldliness at the door, and I purify myself with holy water.—I advance: opposite me is the window, from where I can contemplate the sky at leisure, and I hear a voice which said to me: Up there, your place is marked; work to conquer it. So, I pray God to bless my work, and so that no foreign thought comes to distract my mind, the image of Jesus crucified is hung on the first shelves of my library, and preaches to me withoutcease his divine example. Then, from the top of this same library, the cross extends its arms over me and protects me as if under its shadow; and soon, I hope, I will have the image of Mary Immaculate watching over her child. And you think, Mélanie, that I can cause some trouble in my cell? No. The Seminary is heaven on earth. Everyone is happy there, even those who are not yet saints, as you see.

Entirely devoted to his happiness, the young seminarian lived in the present, trusting in God for the future. If sometimes he allowed his thoughts and his heart to cross the limits of the enclosure of the Seminary, it was to bring them back to the native country and to those who lived there. From the depths of my small room, I salute you, O paternal hearth! I salute you, you who contemplate it every evening! — Then he adds: When man is exiled, he lives on memories; would he dwell in a land of delights,

sheltered from the winters, under an always blue sky; anything :

“Memory is the soul of life”

"That is true, essentially true. That is why, in the day of suffering and pain, man looks to the sky!

"The man is a fallen king who remembers the heavens!"

"Happy is he who lives on memories, especially pleasant memories, and the memory of home is one of these. Happy is he who, living on memories, also lives on the present! Oh! he is doubly happy! And it is from this double happiness I enjoy.”

Away from the family, Theophane wanted to be informed of all the incidents that occurred there; and for his part, he kept his people informed of his story. The smallest circumstance was an occasion for him to pour out his heart; a new benefaction from her father, a kindness from her sister, gave rise to the most tender and affectionate thanks. How I love you! he wrote one day; how kind of you to send me everything I ask of you! I said: Cuffs would be useful to me, and the cuffs came to cover my arms; curtains would be agreeable to me, and I see them now decorating my window and forbidding any profane eye to scrutinize the happiness of my cell. I said: The money is missing; the money came, and it was well received. What is more, my desires are foreseen, and nothing is lacking in my cleaning, not even the pen, the friend of cleanliness. Once again, thanks be to you! THANKS !

— One thing, however, I lack: time; the weather ! A quarter of an hour to say thank you again! and then again: thank you! ! !

Despite the apparent rigidity of the Seminary, our Théophane always loved gaiety; he could not chase her from his heart, especially by writing to her family. In a letter, he had announced the departure of a seminarian for the Foreign Missions, and the entry into the Jesuits of two students from Montmorillon, and he had added: It is said that among them and among us others vocations arise. This is magnificent! We are excited! — This news, thus announced, had caused a certain emotion in the family, and his sister could not hide it from him; he answered: Oh! really, my sister, you are a very easy person to intrigue! — The little note I sent you intrigued you a bit! - Hey! what did this little note contain? . Hey! my God! it doesn't happen every day, and it can be told. I would add that several vocations are declared. Yes, they say that one goes to La Trappe, the other to China, the other to the Jesuits. Ah! if you believe that the Seminary does not have its news, you are mistaken; he would have enough to furnish a whole journal of miscellaneous facts. But these are always rumors, and it is a rumor that I report in my little note. I no longer remembered him. But you, you are one of those people who go deeper into things; on this unfortunate hearsay, how many hypotheses must have been trotting through your heads! I still laugh about it. Another time, please don't rack your brains like that, and sleep your sleep peacefully.

Alongside these traits which reveal an easy talent, the virtue of the seminarian shows itself everywhere, and allows us to admire, among many other qualities, this beautiful modesty from which he never departs. Simple in his style because he was so in his tastes and in his whole person, no one was more distant than he was from anything that could smack of luxury and prodigality. Perfectly arranged in his dress and bearing, as in the furnishing of his cell, he knew how to be content with little, and he took care that always this same simplicity without ostentation or pretension was observed in all the objects which had to be for its use.

In this humble and hidden life, like that of the divine Savior in Nazareth, nothing is as striking as the ease with which our Theophane knows how to pass from the natural to the supernatural. All Things Pointed Him to God.—After naively relating to his younger brother how, on the occasion of the feast of Easter, he moved his whole room and changed the arrangement of his household, he adds: It is quite a business than to change the cleaning of a room, that gives life, and a certain air of gaiety and youth which gives pleasure. Now I will work with new ardour; for, you see, there is always a thought which is the driving force of the whole life of the seminary, a fundamental thought, and which is aroused in us everywhere: Why did you come here? Why the seminar? The seminar will pass, it is not there that it is necessary to fix its tent. The seminar ? And after?... Oh! in this thought, we bow our heads, we turn to God for an answer, and we go as he has spoken.

If small nothings, like the one we have just mentioned, brought our young abbot back to such serious and profound thoughts, with much more just reason it should be so with the great events of the Catholic world and the touching ceremonies of the holy Church. It would be necessary to quote all the beautiful reflections that he delivered to paper at the time of ordinations, feasts, on the subject of the Month of Mary, the days of Holy Week, especially Good Friday. Oh ! that day, he says, is an exceptional day in the seminary. To see us wandering in the courtyards and under the cloisters, observing absolute silence, without hearing a single word, the slightest whisper, one would have said sheep without a pastor. Hey! it is because, in fact, the Pastor of pastors was dead, the good Shepherd had given his life for his sheep.

These pious thoughts, which the young seminarian constantly nourished in his heart, he manifested them in this way, so that his people might also benefit from them: it was a delicate way of bringing their minds to God, without seeming to want to make them sermons. Even with regard to his younger brother, over whom age gave him authority, he often used this more discreet form, knowing how difficult it is to make people accept harsh advice. At other times, as an experienced moralist, he used praise, giving praise for the qualities which he supposed existed, in order to make them acquired, but always putting them in the most attractive and amiable form. I am sending you these few words, he said, so that you will remember me. For my part, be convinced that I have your memory constantly present in my memory, that you are present to me everywhere, that I see you studying, wise, calm, a good worker; in recreation, happy, having fun; in church, recollected, pious, attentive, like the Angels around the altar. Oh! beloved little brother, behave well, and everyone will love you. A thousand kisses!... — And elsewhere: Pray for all of us, the living and the dead; work well, I will tell you with the mother of the Savoyard, in a plaintive song:

Work well, say your prayers;

Prayer, you see, is heaven here below!

And you will always be happy, as you are now. If you're happy, so am I. In the seminary, my dear, the air is pure and healthy; life flows there without a cloud.

It was by thus practicing virtue that our Theophanes prepared himself from afar for the priesthood, yearning each day for the happy moment when it would be given to him to devote himself to the service of the Lord. The Christmas ordination, which he, like all the first-year students, had attended as a mere spectator, had moved him deeply and excited his pious desires. The time of the ordination of the Trinity came again to awaken his burning aspirations; there at least he was to take a first step into the clergy.

My dear sister, he said, I will be tonsured: such is, I believe, the will of God. I will be tonsured, that is to say I will no longer be of the world, I will belong to the Lord, I will say to him: Lord, you are the part of my inheritance, the part that I have chosen on earth, and which will be given to me in heaven. I will be tonsured, that is to say, I will say to the Blessed Virgin: Queen of the clergy, pray for us! Oh! how happy I shall be when I wear on my head the emblem of that crown with which the Saints are crowned, and to the conquest of which it is not too much to consecrate one's life!

But his happiness was to be delayed for quite a long time still: the cruel death, by depriving the diocese of its beloved head, also prevented the ordination in which the young seminarian was to receive the tonsure. This delay was very noticeable to him; but in a public mourning, such as that which took place at the news of the death of Bishop Guitton, he would not pay any attention to the particular sacrifice imposed on him. He had too much nobility and generosity not to forget himself, by associating himself with the common grief.

However, the first year of the seminary was coming to an end, and the loving heart of the young man beat with joy at the memory of the country he was about to see again. But this thought soon gives him the opportunity to express all his love to his father. He had just spoken of money, without which we can do nothing and which slips out of our hands so easily; and, after having blessed the Lord for not having caused him to be born rich, and for not having left him wanting for anything, he adds: I am not rich: ah! I console myself easily, because, instead of metallic riches, God has given me a good and tender father whose love is more precious to me than all the treasures in the world. Oh ! of this treasure I am miserly; I say to myself: Let's keep it, let's keep it well. And then with confidence I address myself to God: Lord, you are the master of life and death; keep our very dear father for us, keep him for us, watch over him, we implore you, for we have great need of his help.

A little before vacation time came the feast of this good father, the twenty-fourth of June; despite the work of the moment, he nevertheless thought of it and wrote with a brevity only equaled by the beauty of the expression: My dear Papa, I imagine myself with you on Saturday evening, and I embrace you with all my heart ; and offering you the most beautiful flower in the garden, the pansy, I say to you: "Humble and small flower, full of feeling, It is the emblem of the heart, especially of the loving heart."

The first year of seminary was therefore over; it had been fruitful for the Abbé Vénard; her tried virtue seemed to have nothing to fear, she could defy the dangers of the holidays. However, on the eve of crossing the threshold of the seminary, he felt the need to fortify himself with very specific resolutions. We want to reproduce them: they will make it possible to judge of his spirit of discernment and of the prudence with which he knew how to direct his conduct;

"1^er July 1849.

A.MDG

"SOME RESOLUTIONS for the holidays.

Already a year gone by at the seminary! and I must go and give an account to the world of this time of retreat and sanctification. Alas! where are the virtues I have acquired? My God, don't scrutinize my life. You find stains even in the Angels, and am I an angel?... Yet here is the moment of trials and battles more than ever arrived. Oh my God ! have mercy on me ! Deign to bless the resolutions I am about to take, and give me the strength to observe them. Virgin Mary, I took you for my Mother from my earliest years, you will always be her; pray for me, good Mother, my strength and my refuge.

Art. 1. I will rise as soon as I wake up giving my heart to Jesus and Mary. My rising will never pass six o'clock If I serve the six o'clock mass, I will say my prayer only beforehand, postponing after my prayer and the recitation of the Little Hours. If, on the contrary, I serve the eight o'clock Mass, I will say my prayer and my prayer as soon as I get up, then I will read Sacred Scripture, I will recite Prime and Tierce before Mass, Sext and None afterwards. The rest of the service I will recite in the evening at separate times.

Art. 2. I will do my private exam before the two-hour snack. This examination will consist in meditating for a few moments, sometimes on faith, sometimes on charity, modesty, inner recollection, and in considering how I have practiced these virtues. At the end of the month I will have a general examination to rekindle my soul and prevent slackness.

Art. 3. In the evening, before reciting Matins and Lauds, if I can, I will pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament and to the Blessed Virgin, using the exercises of Saint Liguori on this subject. Memorial vitoe sacerdotalis or the Imitation of Jesus Christ book that I will always carry with me with my New Testament.

Art. 4. In the morning after lunch, I will either work on my holiday homework or on the Holy Scriptures, as I choose. In the evening, after the recitation of Vespers and Compline, I will also work, but with less serious work. I could do this study while taking a walk; I could also spend this time with my parish priest,

Art. 5. In my dealings with the world, I will always use great moderation of words. I will be gentle with everyone, especially my family. When the occasion presents itself, I will not neglect to say a few words of the good Lord, especially to the children. But I will use great discretion on this article, always remembering that actions speak louder than words.

Art. 6. On feast days, I will work between Mass and Vespers, if I have time. On those days, I will be more collected.

Art. 7. Of all the resolutions that I have taken, there are some that I must strictly put into practice: thus prayer, the private examination, the visit to the Blessed Sacrament, the spiritual reading of the Memorial or the Imitation of Jesus Christ. There are others for which I could be less severe. Thus, when my friends and my fellow-students meet for a walk or a pleasure party, it would be savagery not to participate, especially with fellow-students such as those whom I have for ordinary company: that is why the minutes will not pay me. In a word, I must avoid in my conduct anything that might make it noticeable; assignment is therefore excluded.

"True virtue for the great number must be simple and unnoticed; it is repugnant to anything that could create some brilliance. Therefore always humility, charity, modesty, and I believe that then the holidays will be less dangerous for me. elsewhere I shall not lack examples of virtue, and then shall I not have the grace of God?... Long live Jesus and Mary! Amen.

Th. Venard.

We do not see mentioned in this regulation of life anything concerning the frequentation of the sacraments: it is because the faithful seminarian made it a rigorous duty to act on this subject absolutely as in the seminary: consequently, there is no need to talk. Similarly, no mention of the rosary, so much so that one could believe in an oversight. But no: Théophane knew that the Rosary was recited in the family every evening, and he was careful not to go against such a praiseworthy and fruitful habit: so he always made it his duty, during the holidays, to preside -even to this exercise.

In short, this program of conduct, thus drawn up, seems quite simple and not very severe: the reason is that the pious Theophanes did not want it to be a dead letter: so he had the strength to conform to it entirely. Despite this, the regularity of his life, during the holidays, did not prevent him from indulging with his friends in innocent recreations to which he was invited by them, and of which he himself was very often the promoter. All the time he did not give to his colleagues and to the observation of some point of his regulations, he liked to pass it with his family, with his venerable father, his young brothers, his beloved sister. Most often, alone with her, he talked about holy things, pious thoughts; he read edifying stories to her, they sang canticles to the Blessed Virgin together: this was one of his sweetest pleasures. Then he loved to recall the years of childhood and their touching memories; and for that the hillside of Bel-Air often became, at his instigation, the goal of common walks; moreover, he found there, so to speak, the awakening of his apostolic vocation.

After a holiday spent so holy, the pious Théophane was to taste again at the Major Seminary the happiness which had smiled on him when he entered it for the first time. Thanks to virtue, which moderated all his actions, he found himself there again with the holy habits he had acquired there, the pious aspirations he had developed there, and also with the same frequent returns of his thought and his heart to his own.

Two months after the start of the seminary, on December XNUMX, Mgr Pie, new Bishop of Poitiers, made his solemn entry into his episcopal city; nothing is beautiful like the enthusiasm with which Théophane describes to his sister all the details of this beautiful celebration. But the sight of the young and holy Pontiff, sent by God and by the Holy Church, above all made his heart beat violently. Ah! he exclaims, we shall love him, then, this dear father whom Providence has given us; yes, I will love him as I love another father to whom I am attached both by the bonds of nature and the incessant marks of a boundless tenderness. To both respect, love, devotion! "

; The arrival of the Bishop gave his heart another cause for joy, seeing the Christmas ordination approaching, where he was to have the much desired happiness of receiving the first tonsure. He prepared for it as if it had been a definitive act. So this first step was for him an entire consecration, a perfect sacrifice. Considering from then on the career which opened before him up to the summit of the priestly mountain, he studied to fulfill perfectly the new obligations which he had contracted, in order to make himself worthy successively of the various degrees of the clericature, which precede the last at short intervals. He never lost sight of the goal to which he aspired.

However, until then his most intimate friends, witnesses of the fine virtues he practiced, contented themselves with admiring him, without seeking to fathom the secrets of his soul. But from then on, from time to time, he will let slip a few words in his letters which could put us on the path; he will eagerly seize the opportunities, in order to prepare the minds for this event which must be near. The ordination of the Trinity 1850, where he was to receive minor orders, was therefore not neglected; he wrote to his sister: Pray to the good God for me, so that his holy will may be done. The time for great decisions is approaching: for next Christmas, perhaps, I will have to discuss the serious question of the subdiaconate. Pray to God for me; be sure that on my side I do not forget you. The Trinity passed, the holidays will come, there we will see each other. I want these vacations, if possible, to be even better spent than the preceding ones.

In writing to his father, Theophane usually kept a greater reserve, not wanting to give up his heart to anxiety before the time. He contented himself with showing her on all occasions a deeper respect, an increasingly filial affection. At the time of this last ordination, he said to him: Oh! what a beautiful day of ordination! how happy I would have been to see you witness and share in my happiness! Oh ! you will be there when I take the formidable step that one does not take twice; you will be there, when these spiritual nuptials of your child's heart, of his soul, are celebrated, as bride with the divine Spouse, the spotless lamb, the beloved Jesus! You will be there to bless me!... And when will the dawn of this great day rise?... God knows it... Let us wait in peace.

Theophane knew his father's heart thoroughly; he had felt its tenderness so often that he must have foreseen the battles that would one day have to be waged against it. So he himself sought more and more to bring him to God by detaching him from the earth and from the hopes that the future could promise him, and sometimes his pen let out expressions of great depth: Alas! my father, he wrote in a meeting where he had had to make a slight sacrifice, alas! men are so inconstant! there are so many disappointments in life! But everything passes in this poor world which one day will also pass. Only God is stable, God in whom we must put all our hope because he created us for himself, and a time will come when we will be reunited with him forever. SO ! no more sadness, no more fear, no more anguish. Joy, unmixed, unfailing, eternal happiness!

A few days before this holiday which was to be the last, he wrote to his sister to prepare her for the great news which was soon to be communicated to her in their intimate talks: It is to you that I am going to give the word of remembrance today : I don't have time to write long letters; the life of the seminarian is a full life, an active life. The more one works, the more one wants to work; the field is immense to cover, and the time is so short! The second year of seminary has already passed, it has passed like a dream, it's frightening! I cannot imagine that in three weeks I will be on the eve of my departure. Three months of vacation will come, which will also pass very quickly: and how could it be otherwise in the country of my birth, with those who had my first affections? Then will follow a third and final year of seminary, which will undoubtedly decide the rest of my life and will still pass like the others.

And then after... what will happen...? But why bother so much about it? There will be what the good Lord wills. In the meantime, we must prepare to go and live the vacation life.

The pious sister knew all the virtue of her brother, and she knew, on the other hand, that the good God asks greater things of those to whom he communicates his grace more abundantly. So these last words, despite their apparent vagueness, did not go unnoticed by her. Moreover, they were confirmed by others who followed closely: To all the family, hello!

A few more days, and we will be reunited, reunited for three months! I really like the seminary, and I would be ungrateful if it were not so; but with him I also love family, country, I love both. Leaving one, I will be a little sad; approaching the other, the clouds will dissipate, and the sky will become serene again. Well then! goodbye... — I have planned a little trip which I hope to take towards the start of the holidays; that done, I casanerais in the paternal house, never to leave it. I'll be wiser, I think, than last year's vacation. It is not an empty word, for it seems to me that I am more grave, more serious, less childish than I was a year ago. The time for major decisions is approaching, fast approaching.

The pious seminarian, having thus prepared the way for the great news, thought it his duty first to warn his excellent sister during the holidays; for her poor heart needed to pour itself out into a friendly heart. Besides, he had such a lofty idea of ​​the virtue of his elder! he thought that she would faithfully keep the secret of her soul; and moreover, because of her tender sensibility, the news of the departure and the departure itself, arriving blow after blow, could have crushed her, whereas, warned in advance, she could strengthen herself in piety and the love of God.

Faithful to the commitments he had made, Theophane barely consented to seek a few distractions outside his native country, he wanted to be entirely with his people; and, although he could not doubt that his memory would be kept faithfully in the family, he nevertheless desired to leave to each and every one a particular pledge, to which his memory was attached. Thus, we saw him devoting part of his holidays to erecting at the end of the paternal garden, in concert with his brothers, benches of grass, where each member of the family would go, after his departure, to meditate on their common sacrifice, on his consolations and his merits. There, he doubtless said to himself, working in this way, there on this chair that I have erected, my venerable father will come to mourn his son, asking God for resignation; on each side, Melanie, Henri and Eusebius, sadly seated, will shed their sweetest tears with him; finally, Theophane's place, which remained empty, will speak loud enough of the cause of the common pain.

However, the holidays of 1850 passed quickly, and the young cleric, having returned to the seminary, prepared to take advantage, as best as possible, of the time which was still given to him, to prepare for his grand design. Nevertheless, by taking care of himself, he does not forget the others, and the words he addresses to them are more precious the closer the decision is. To his younger brother, he seems to be giving the last advice, so urgent and numerous is it. But he teaches him above all to put piety in the first rank; for science without piety, he says, is more harmful than useful; and he adds a consideration, which is very much in his character: Do not imagine, at least, that piety must be austere, and always frown: on the contrary, the piety of the schoolboy, as of everyone in the world. remains, but above all of the schoolboy, because he is younger, must be gentle, considerate and cheerful above all, as Saint Paul said: Gaudete in Domino semper; iterum dictionary, gaudete — To his sister, he draws with a practiced hand the line she must follow, to ensure her spiritual progress:

“I am very glad, my dear Mélanie, to see you take the resolution to serve God with a new ardor. In the path of Christian perfection, in fact, one must advance or retreat; "elsewhere is impossible. But please note (you will allow me this fraternal opinion) that the basis of perfection is humility, and that obedience is its guardian. On this subject, I would advise you to read the treatise on humility, which is in one of the volumes of Christian Perfection, by Fr. Rodriguez Biais, while reading this work, be careful that you cannot apply to yourself everything that is said there, since the author speaks particularly to religious. Moreover, one must not confuse the absolute precepts, that is to say which at all times and in all circumstances must be observed, and those whose practice varies according to the circumstances. and the position of each. Great care must be taken in this dist prompt; besides, always ask Our Lord to deign to inspire you in what you have to do.

Ever since the secret had been revealed by Theophane to his sister during the last holidays, the latter, one can imagine, was deeply preoccupied. The holy student of the seminary, informed of these various anxieties of his sister's soul, therefore wrote to her with still more authority and more precision: The sentiments which you expressed to me in some of your letters were perfectly understood by me; but be brave! God only asks of us a little goodwill, and his grace does the rest. Above all, beware of falling into discouragement. The motto of the Christian soul is hope, hope always, hope all the same. Yes, my sister, God asks, lift your soul above all the suggestions of the evil spirit. Be generous in everything, with regard to God, who is such a good Master: this is why banish from your heart all trouble, all vain preoccupation. Do what you can do, and humbly pray to Jesus Christ to be pleased with your feeble efforts; after which stand in peace and confidence. If you have something wrong with yourself, ask forgiveness, moan, and then quickly get up and take your revenge. Such is the freedom of the true children of God, which will only be perfect in heaven, where we will no longer be aggravated by the weight of our bodies, but which everyone must work to acquire here below. The best means for this is to practice holy humility, to flee the gaze of the world, to stand in the presence of God recollected, respectful, to make oneself small, to annihilate oneself before his Majesty: these are the dispositions which please him the most. , and you can easily converse in these dispositions, because of your way of living each day, rather similar to the obscure and hidden life of the holy family at Nazareth.--Ah! excuse me for my little sermon: I have no time to laugh, although gaiety, however, can be preached with humility, of which it is the habitual companion. — Now, this letter ended with these words: A big business is in progress: we must pray more than ever. You understand ?....

But, before thinking about this serious business, another no less serious business had to be settled: the business of the subdiaconate; for our seminarian, who nevertheless was called of God in such an obvious way, reflected a lot, prayed without ceasing, to know the will of the Lord in this respect. — This requires great reflection, he wrote, because the decision is for all life and eternity. Oh ! how much I need the prayers of my friends, so that I know what the good Lord asks of me! For this purpose, please recite the Remember the Evening Prayer for me. I thank you a thousand times in advance.

Finally the decision was made. - Yes, oh! may it be for the greater glory of God! exclaims the fervent seminarian. — Then he addressed the following letter to his revered father: My father, I am at an age at which, in another career, I should have prepared some future for myself; perhaps we should have spoken of marriage. I would no doubt have been, for your paternal solicitude, a source of uneasiness and concern. My very dear father, console yourself, it will not be so: no, the question is resolved, do not look for me on earth for a companion. God, who is all good and all merciful, was good enough to choose his unworthy creature and fix his gaze on her. He wants to possess me entirely, body and soul, to unite himself to me by indissoluble bonds. Yes, at this moment he asks me for my heart; and I, overwhelmed by so much love and kindness, what else can I say except that I want to? And then, remembering that I have a father on earth, from whom after God I hold everything, to him I turn my eyes, to you, O my beloved father! , do you want it? Don't you wholeheartedly agree to give me to God? to give myself without any reserve, to completely abandon your Théophane? Oh! Yes, I know ; for in my father, with the heart of the father is the heart of the Christian, and of the good Christian. So be it!

But is it not the father who leads the bride to the house of the Lord? Do not his brothers accompany him? And are not all relatives and friends warned of the great solemnity? Oh! yes, you will come, my dear father, to attend this august and imposing ceremony, of an aspect, terrible and frightening at first sight, but which nevertheless gives very sweet joys to the heart, say my elders in the holy clericature. You will come to the celebration, a celebration for life and eternity, of this mysterious marriage, entirely spiritual, of a human soul with its God. You will come, yourself, to offer your child to the Lord who gave him to you, you will come to bless him, first in your name, and then in the name of the one we no longer have with us here below, but who no doubt, from heaven, will pray for all of us, in the name of my mother.

We attach to this letter the fragment of another addressed, in the same circumstances, by Theophane to his godmother, for whom he had so much respect and such a true and delicate affection: I have hastened to announce to my very - affectionate and very dear godmother a great news. Doubtless my good godmother does not forget that the little child whom she held at the baptismal font has just completed its twenty-first year; and this is the age required by the Church for young people whom she admits to the subdiaconate. The subdiaconate! immolation of human nature, by the vow of perpetual chastity; spiritual marriage; union of the soul with God; forthcoming participation in the holy sacrifice, obligation of prayer for all. Oh ! that of

thoughts for a young man! what a decision to make!

Today that I am writing to you, dear godmother, this decision has been taken: I will be sub-deacon on the twenty-first of this month. It was not I who said it first: I will be; Oh! no, it is God who wills it, who asks me for my heart, who chooses me, his unworthy and puny creature. Can I answer: no? It is up to me to admire and bless the mercy of God; to the nature of submitting. I know well, man succumbs, but God sustains the weak who hope in him, and with God we can do anything.

I hope that my father will come to witness the sacrifice of his son and present him himself to the Lord. I no longer have a mother here below: can I dare to express the desire that my godmother, my mother in the order of grace, come to take her place?

The day of the immolation soon arrived; the sacrifice of the young sub-deacon was complete, and henceforth, enjoying the perfect freedom of the children of God, in the sacred bonds which attached him to Jesus, he presented himself to his director with a triumphant air: Now, said- He, nothing stands in the way of my departure, you will no doubt no longer want to put an obstacle to it?... For a long time, in fact, the prudent and wise director had had to hold him back and prolong the ordeal, not wanting to decide anything. before the affair of the subdiaconate was finished; but, from then on, judging the trial sufficient, he thought of having his pious penitent open the seminary of the Foreign Missions.

While waiting for a favorable response from Paris, and before the first impression of the sub-diaconate had passed into his heart, Théophane wanted to share this first happiness with his beloved sister and his younger brother, who had not been able to attend the grand ceremony: My dear Mélanie, your brother is a sub-deacon! What a day, the day of the subdiaconate! My soul overflows with joy, but with a joy so sweet, so pure, so suave, that it has no expression. I would like to be able to give you a little account of what I feel, but I don't know what to say, I don't know what to think; my heart rejoices with inexpressible joy. I took the terrible step without trembling; Infinitely good God spared me all the fears of anguish at such a moment. My knees did not clash, my foot did not weaken; and when I had stretched myself on the pavement, I preserved the greatest calm. Only when I got up I had broken all my bonds, I was free like a little bird escaping from under the bird catcher's net. Oh ! How gladly then would I have flown away to heaven!

In the letter addressed to his brother, he begins with more enthusiasm: My dear Eusèbe, Henri IV said: Hang yourself, brave Crillon, we won at Arques, and you were not there. You were not present at this august and touching ceremony, and your brother took the irrevocable step, lay down on the pavement and gave himself to God. Ah! brother, you weren't there... But I know it's not your fault: so don't hang yourself, please. Ah! rather join me in thanking the good God for the great grace he has given me, for the happiness with which I am still intoxicated. Thank God for this gift! Oh ! what a beautiful day that was! and this day is not over; no, there is no evening. Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift, which knows no setting. Its dawn has shone and will always shine, always into eternity, for I am a sub-deacon, a sub-deacon for eternity! And now I can say to you: O Eusebius, do not love the world or its joys. The world is rich in appearances, basically it is only rot, corruption, nothingness, remorse. Oh! love God, the good God! Be like a docile sheep under his hand. Love the good God, and you will not have to repent of it, even on earth. He too promises joys, but true joys, sure joys, inexpressible joys, the peace of God which surpasses all feeling.

These sweet joys, this perfect happiness, these delights of the soul which belongs entirely to God, the new sub-deacon will taste them more and more, as grace will manifest itself more in his heart, and the will grow in the holy way of martyrdom where he will die of love, giving his blood for Jesus. — The answer so ardently desired soon arrived from Paris. Immediately the pious Theophane set about making his preparations to leave the seminary of Poitiers, say goodbye to his family, and fly wholeheartedly to this blessed house, where the apostles of China and Ton have been formed for two centuries. -King.

Chapter Four

leaving the seminar. — fifteen days spent with the family. — last farewell.

The departure of the seminarian being definitively resolved, it was necessary to announce this event to the family, and especially to its chief who, proud to have such a distinguished son, had already made the most beautiful combinations for the future. Theophane was not unaware of this peculiarity. He knew well the courage of his father, his patriarchal faith, his generous heart; but he also knew that he was he, the darling son, the child of predilection, and his heart, even more than his intelligence, had calculated the force of the blow he had to deal. Nevertheless, he did not want a strange mouth or a borrowed hand to announce the great news; but, taking his pen himself, he wrote this beautiful page, which we transcribe entirely:

7 February 1851.

My very dear Father,

A little over a month ago, it was a great joy for your Theophane to have you as a witness to his sacrifice and his consecration to God. You yourself, father, have with your hands, so to speak, presented the victim to the Lord. Ah! poor and puny victim! And nevertheless the Lord, who is good with boundless goodness, was good enough to receive it as agreeable, just as it is. Ah! how fast time has since gone! God, you see, my father, leads men, and men go. Behold, this God of mercy took me by the hand, like his child; he said to me, and it was indeed his words that I heard, catchy, irresistible words: My son, come, follow me, fear nothing; you are small, poor, weak, but I am the almighty God; come, I will be with you... And me, can I have a will in the presence of the will of God?...

My beloved father, do you understand?— One day, God said to Abraham: Take with you your only son, your favorite son, your Isaac, and go and offer him to me as a burnt offering, instead of me will indicate. And Abraham obeyed without delaying a moment, without murmuring, and his obedience pleased the Lord. Do you not, O my beloved father, understand now? - Well ! behold, your son whom you love, your Theophane presents himself to you; he did not want to borrow the help of a foreign voice, he comes openly and without seeking detours unworthy both of you and of him. Yes, it is God the good God who wants it. Oh! say that you too, say that you really want your Theophane to make a missionary!

Poor father! the word is said; lets go ! that nature does not weaken. Get on your knees, take the crucifix hanging from the fireplace in the office, the one that I believe received my mother's last breath, and say: My God, I will: your holy will be done!- So be it.

"O my poor father, forgive me for having struck the blow myself. There are perhaps some who could tell you that I am a fool, an ungrateful, a bad son. My father, my beloved Father, no, you won't think so. Ah! I know that my father's soul is great and noble, because it draws its inspiration from the sources of true greatness, of true nobility, from the sources of religion. and faith!

My poor father, I saddened your heart! Ah! mine too is plunged in great pain. The sacrifice is tough! O Lord Jesus! since you want it, I want it too, and my father also wants it.

Come, resignation, father; trust in God and in the Blessed Virgin. Let's pray for each other. — I kneel at your feet, father: bless your respectful and submissive child.

J. Théophane Vénard, "Sub-Deacon."

As had been well foreseen in advance, the blow dealt by the young sub-deacon was a blow as terrible as it was unexpected; but, nevertheless, he did not inflict one of those mortal wounds from which the heart can never recover: for M. Venard's faith was not selfish, but profoundly Catholic. This man who had a son with such a large heart, and who had slipped into his veins the blood of a missionary, must himself have had the heart of an apostle; he felt a generous blood flowing through his whole being, such as only the true Christian can have.

On the other hand, the soul of M. Venard, in this circumstance, was not like a hard rock insensitive to the greatest emotions, and his heart was more upset than he appeared. But, by his fortitude, he knew how to spare other pains more expansive than his own and the overflow of which could be unfortunate. Moreover, the brokenness wrought by this grief was such that nothing could ever console his heart.

M. Vénard's answer was therefore not a refusal; far from it, it was a consent as full as possible, a consent admirable and truly worthy of the great resolution of her son; to the point that one can perfectly compare these two generous hearts, and even wonder which of the two prevailed over the other, in this rivalry of sublime virtues. One day, one of M. Vénard's friends cautiously wanted to make him understand that his son's vocation had been perfectly studied and put to the test by his superiors, he was answered with these truly beautiful words, quoted later with happiness by Bishop of Poitiers: How! but what would become of the prophecy of Our Lord Jesus Christ, which declares that the Gospel will be preached throughout the earth, if the directors of Seminary, or the fathers of families prevented the young ecclesiastics from leaving for the Missions?

Such was the character of the father of our future Martyr, a frank, loyal, generous, sensitive character even under a skin that seemed a little hard at first sight. Moreover, we can judge him perfectly by his answer to his son's letter:

Saint-Loup, February 12, 1851.

MY DEAR AND BELOVED SON,

I will not attempt to depict to you here the emotion which your letter caused me; I think you calculated the force of the blow before delivering it. Yes, my good friend, I agree with you, the sacrifice is hard, and this time it is a sacrifice indeed. The ordination I attended to introduce you to the Lord cost me nothing; on the contrary, it fulfilled my desires, and I was very happy. Today, my dear son, it is quite different; I see all my combinations reversed; we are very right to say: Man proposes and God disposes. I had conceived the hope of seeing you one day placed not far from me, of presenting Henri as my successor, in time; and then, I wanted to ask you to receive me at your place, in order to end my painful career with you; in a word, I was hoping that you would close my eyes. Great illusions!

I do not want, my dear son, to seek to divert you from the great resolutions which you have taken, nor to sadden your heart by reproaches. No ; I will content myself with asking you if, at your age, one is really capable of making such serious reflections. If you see that God is calling you, and here, I do not doubt it, I will say to you: Obey without hesitation; let nothing hold you back, not even the idea of ​​leaving a father afflicted by such a separation, nor that you will no longer be sheltered sometimes under the paternal roof! Enough said.

I know that he who puts his hand to the plow must not look behind him; I also know that he who will leave his father or his mother to walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ must hope for a great reward: powerful motives!!!

I was not in a condition to answer you right away, my dear son, because, before thinking about it, it was necessary to pay its tribute to nature; but today, being a little calmer, I strive to fulfill your desires. You ask for my consent: I give it to you without restriction; my blessing: hey! my good friend, why would I refuse it to you?... You know very well that I am entirely with my children; so you can count on it. Anything that can make you happy makes me happy too, at all costs. The sacrifices for me began with you, when I took you to college, because I lost sight of you; they have continued to this day: when and how will they end?... A sad existence, that of a father separated from his children. Finally, I resign myself and leave everything in the hands of God, who will perhaps one day return the new Isaac to the new Abraham, since you are willing to compare me to the father of believers.

Do not be distressed by these few reflections, my dear son; the ideas are badly stitched, you will guess my thoughts. Hope God will support us both. Your sister, although warned in advance, was not insensitive to the declaration, because she believed that what was distant should not happen; but, as you say, time flies...

Henri noticed that there was something extraordinary; he inquired about it, nothing has yet been revealed to him. And Eusebius, poor Eusebius, who was supposed to model himself on you, will he therefore lose his model? “I go too far, my good friend, forgive a poor father who lives only for his children; I'm going too far, I'm afraid to hurt you, and you don't deserve it.

Nevertheless, I consent to everything; be calm and do not be troubled, the hand of God is everywhere. While waiting for the last goodbyes, receive the heartfelt embraces of a father who loves you dearly.

"Venard."

The future missionary could therefore leave the seminary without fear: instead of his father's wrath, blessings awaited him, praises, numerous marks of the most tender affection. A few days before leaving the seminary, he wanted to write the following letter to his sister:

to my good and excellent sister,

"Oh! how touched I was when I read your letter! Yes, I understand, and I understood a long time ago, what a sacrifice I was going to impose on my family, on you, on you in particular, my good Mélanie. And do you think that I too didn't have to make a great, hard sacrifice, to determine myself to take such a step? Who ever loved family life more than I? My happiness here- I had only placed it there. But God, who had given me to taste, in the family, the sweetest and purest pleasures (I don't know what cement of love, as a result of circumstances that you know, has bound our souls together better than in any other family); God, I say, wanted to wean my heart from it. — Oh, what battles nature has given me! I had to support! and the struggles of the heart are very great. Fortunately the Lord, who asked for the sacrifice, gave me the courage to do it. I even had the strength to propose to my friends to share my cross , ofpresent with my hands the chalice of bitterness. I did it, because I knew my friends; I did it, because I entrusted myself to Providence; and I did it, I may say, with peace of mind, because I armed myself with faith and hope. And my hope was not in vain, it was not deceived. The blow that I have

carried, ah! no doubt he struck hard; but he did not cast down and reduce those who were supported by the same faith, the same hope and the same love.

Ah! now let us understand the designs of divine mercy! Let's raise our thoughts! let us adore, admire and bless the Lord who has made everything.

Are the enjoyments of the family not holy? Did God condemn them? or had our hearts attached too much to it, and God wanted to punish us by depriving us of it entirely; or are we acting like fools today? - Hey! no, of course not. The world will say whatever it wants: what does it matter to us, children of grace, who have received the heavenly promises? The world, with its maxims, has long since received its condemnation from the mouth of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Ah! Lord, your thoughts are not the thoughts of men; and your merciful Providence is moving towards its goal, by ways known to it, and unknown to the world and its followers. - Oh! see then, my sister, we had a good mother, and she was taken from us when we were just entering life: how much we mourned her! But nevertheless we resigned ourselves, and God took pity on the poor little orphans; he gave you the strength and the wisdom to take our mother's place in the family, even after the death of our grandmother, who passed away gently from life here below to the life of eternity, inviting us to follow her to heaven. — A third sacrifice was asked of us, and we were preparing to make it, with the help of the graces. None ! you were already given to God; but his Providence has disposed of it otherwise, it was good enough to be satisfied with our submission, without demanding the consummation of the sacrifice.

However, God was watching over your brother, my dear Mélanie; he led him as if by the hand in the paths of his infinite mercy, O miracle of grace! Oh depth, oh abyss of the bounty of God! To what sublimity is a poor and puny creature raised! God, who does not need human resources to do his works, will take, as an instrument of his designs, what is most miserable, most to be despised! Me, because it is about me, me small and weak, I receive in my soul the inspiration of the apostolate!... My sister, let us therefore say together: That God is good, infinitely good ! let all the earth say it with us, and in a holy transport of gratitude.

You see, my affectionate sister, how much God loves us! how he fills us with his gifts! Oh ! a sacrifice is still asked of us: does not God test his beloved, in order to purify them and make them worthy of him? A cross is given to us, let us say thank you generously! Let's cry, let's cry; Oh ! yes, but offer our tears to him who makes them shed. The earth after all is only a vale of tears, and the divine Master said: Blessed are those who weep, because they will be consoled! “And then, it is true that we are going to leave each other on earth, but only in body; our souls in thought, which knows no space, will remain united, and more inseparably than ever. In heaven we will meet! Oh ! yes, all of us! let us trust in God and make the sacrifice generously. And then Henri is there, and Providence watches over little brother Eusebius; pray, hope. Here below, let us remain united in the heart of Jesus and Mary.

Let me speak now of my dear father! Ah! I am proud to be his son! I long to press it to my heart, to embrace it with my embraces. My father, good courage, firm and unshakable faith, love towards God. Everything for heaven, even your Theophanes. Ah! there we will meet, there we will be happy together. My father, these souls that I am going to win, I do you from now on the homage of them after God; they will be your crown of glory in the fatherland, in the abode of the elect.

I'm leaving, but I leave you a consoling angel, a good guardian angel. When the time of your pilgrimage is over, Melanie will close your eyes, praying by your side, and she will tell you about the poor little Missionary, and you will bless her, and him too. "But why would I talk about dying?" Oh ! you will still live long days for the good and happiness of your children. From time to time the young Missionary would receive news from the family, and that would be one of his great joys. I also hope to spend another fortnight with my friends, and enjoy their presence......................... ....

The pious seminarian arrived in his family on Saturday, February fifteenth, in the evening; as he was coming on foot from Parthenay, his brother Henri went to meet him, according to advice given by Theophane, and it was then that the latter initiated him into the secret whose existence had discovered to him by chance several days before. As for the youngest brother, who was in Airvault, at the college, he was absolutely ignorant of the great event which was to take place; Henri and he had only been prepared by a little note roughly worded thus: My dear brother, I conjure you to say, until further notice, a Remember to the Blessed Virgin, to obtain a great favour; you will soon know what that means. But then the poor children were far from guessing the outcome of this mystery.

Henri, then eighteen years old, was able to quickly appreciate the full significance of his brother's enterprise. For Eusebius, his uncertainty disappeared the next day, when his eldest and his model came to tear him away from his studies and take him to his father's home for a fortnight. Dear Theophane, in fact, wanted the whole family to be reunited once more, and for all its members to make together the voluntary sacrifice of those inexpressible joys of the past, of all that happiness of life in common, so sweet for hearts that love each other tenderly.

It will be easy to understand how much the role of the future missionary in her family, during these last fifteen days spent with her, was painful for her heart and difficult to fulfill. It must have been hard work for him to have to console a beloved father, sister, and brothers for a separation which cost him as much as they did; to have to weaken the blow that he himself gave to their heart so voluntarily, and that when he too had difficulty in containing himself and clutched his own heart with both hands to prevent it from overflowing. He felt the need to be loving, tender, affectionate, and at the same time he had to be firm and resolute. Now the future Missionary fulfills his role in a truly marvelous way.

Theophane's first interview with his father was a scene that we give up trying to paint, because these things are seen, understood, they go to the heart, they are not said. They threw themselves into each other's arms, and thus remained closely united and as though confused, without a word, without tears, without sighs; the two hearts spoke to each other; and after a moment, coming back to themselves, there was only this single word: My good father! My dear son!... But these words said a lot, they said everything, to those who knew how to understand themselves.

This spectacle, so beautiful on the first day, was not to end with him: it was repeated on the following days, or rather it was almost continual. How many times have these touching and truly admirable scenes happened, especially in the evening, after the meal, when we were seated at the hearth. Often the silence was quite prolonged, sometimes then the father shook his son's hand tightly, and if Theophane let this flattering eulogy escape his lips: Oh! How happy I am to have you for a father! — he replied: How proud I am to have such a son! And the same silence began again until it was again broken by such an exchange of a few fine words.

Quite usually, when Théophane was not at home, the other members of the family let themselves be dominated by sadness: One became pensive, and in this state it took little to make the tears flow; but when the future Missionary arrived, he always cheered up with a thousand little subtleties of conversation, a thousand little incidents which somewhat dissipated the sorrows caused by the thought of the future. One day, among other things, gaiety and liveliness took over in a more extraordinary way: the brothers and the sister were talking about the Chinese; and in their interested enthusiasm, it is true, through fraternal love, Melanie, Henri and Eusèbe also wanted to leave the land of France and accompany their dear Théophane; now they made many plans and combinations on this subject, in which each received his share of the work. However, the poor father listened in silence to all these fine projects, and waited until at last some function was also found for him; but he saw very well that they were forgetting him completely, or that perhaps they wanted to spare his pain. Then, seeming to come out of a reverie which was only apparent, he turned to his children and said to them, with an apropos of which they can never lose the touching memory: And me, what am I going to do? I become? Do you want to leave me here all alone, like goodman Zebedee, to mend my nets? I do not accept this role, I will leave with you! — The children of M. Vénard, and above all the good Théophane, found the words and the comparison really delightful, and from then on they no longer left aside, in their mission plans, the generous-hearted father who himself would have liked to be able to accompany his dear son. 'He told her so several times during those two weeks and with an accent that left no room for doubt. My dear child, he said, if I were alone with you, I would leave without hesitation; but I owe myself to your brothers: this obligation comes before all the rest. And sometimes he would add with deep conviction: Besides, I don't care about life, I've known too much pain to cling to it; but I ask God to still give me the time and the means to finish what I started; after that I will say my Nunc dimittis.

However, time passed very quickly, and each day the heart sank more at the thought of the last farewells which were approaching. The separation from each evening became more and more painful, because one thought that at last there would come an evening when these pious outpourings would take place for the last time, an evening when one would say goodbye to good Theophane forever. We then repeated to ourselves: It's from today in eight days; it is in four days: there are only two days left; then finally: Oh! tomorrow will be the last time! So we talked for a few more minutes, and finally we kissed each other again; and even, I do not believe here to be insulting the pious Melanie, by revealing that she always remained the last, wishing for her the last farewell of the day. His memory had always forgotten something, a certain secret of the heart which it was absolutely necessary to entrust to the good Théophane.

Despite these prolonged vigils well into the evening, there was still something to be said, to the point that the last night had to be spent there entirely; the sister had to make the final preparations for the trousseau, her brother wanted to keep her company. After ten years, Théophane, then confessor of the faith, still remembered this peculiarity, which was a consoling balm to him in the captivity of his cage. He wrote to his sister herself a few days before his immolation: It was with you, dear Mélanie, that I spent that delicious night of February 1851, XNUMX, which was our last meeting on earth, in conversations so sympathetic, so sweet, so holy, like those of Saint Benedict with his holy sister!

The next day was definitely the day fixed for departure; they needed strength for the whole day, they went to draw it at the foot of the holy altars, near the sacred tabernacle. The whole family attended Mass and made Holy Communion to testify to the Lord, before everyone, that the sacrifice, although expensive, was nevertheless made with a good heart. Théophane, who was serving the mass, looked more like an angel than a man, and the witnesses of this pious scene remember all the circumstances with tenderness and happiness.

But already it was time to begin the farewell visits: in all the houses there were sighs, tears, sobs, sometimes bitter reproaches, dictated no doubt by interest and attachment to the family, but which did not fail to strike with violence the heart of the poor Missionary. However, he always seemed joyful, drying up the tears with a kind word, eluding reprimands with a pious thought, sometimes with a fine joke, all things which showed how virtue had been able to dominate the movements of nature in him; in all this he seemed to act without effort, and yet he will say on arriving at Poitiers that his heart could no longer hold it; he was choking with his concentrated pain.

During this day of visits, his brother Henri had the pious thought of taking him to the parish cemetery, where together they prayed one last time at the grave of their dear mother whom they had mourned so much. Leaving these precious remains still cost the good Theophanes a great deal: he loved his mother so much, he had felt so much grief at not being able to ask for her blessing on his deathbed! At least he was happy to be able to say goodbye to her before her departure, promising to find her at the supreme rendezvous of heaven, where he already had the sweet confidence that she herself had arrived, his faith being based on a fact that we told at the beginning of this work. So he was always grateful to his brother for his good thoughts; it was often his consolation, and sometimes he recalled the touching memory of it with delight.

The departure from Saint-Loup had been fixed for nine o'clock in the evening, Theophane having preferred this late hour, to avoid too great a crowd of witnesses who would have been there at any time of the day; his brother and an excellent friend were to drive him to Parthenay to catch the public carriage at midnight. They therefore sat down to table fairly early for the last family supper, which was attended by M. le Curé, whose presence was required by friendship, and who, moreover, had a ministry to perform at the supreme moment. Thanks to the assistance of this venerable friend of the family, and above all to the virtuous friendliness of Theophane, the meal was not sad; given the circumstances, he was even somewhat cheerful. At the end, however, a first word of farewell pronounced by the father, at the moment when joy usually bursts out, brought the spirits back to the sad reality.

When the meal was over, it was already necessary to rush things, because the hour was advancing. As on all previous days, the Rosary is said together; the good Missionary read a chapter of the Imitation chosen for the occasion, then all knelt down to say the evening prayer. Usually it was the poor sister who recited this prayer; but she foresaw on that day not having the strength: so Théophane still wanted to take it on. About halfway, no doubt at the thought that in a few minutes we were going to part forever, the tears began; half-stifled sighs were heard, then sobs. Melanie, Henri, Eusèbe could no longer contain their pain, and soon everyone present, like them and with them, shed their tears.

We got up in silence. My dear friends, said the Missionary, the hour has come, we must separate. My father, will you bless your son, your Theophane?... and he threw himself at his father's feet, embracing his knees. The good father raised his eyes and hands to the sky, and with a

voice trembling but firm nevertheless, pronounced these words while making the sign of the cross on the head of his Théophane: My dear son, receive the blessing of your father who sacrifices you to the Lord; be blessed forever in the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. So be it! Then Theophane, getting up, asked in the same way for the priest's blessing. Then starting with his father, his sister and his brothers, he quickly embraced all the assistants, relatives and friends, like every evening before going to bed; but... it was for the last time. Henri had gone out for the immediate departure. Eusebius threw himself into his brother's arms, weeping hot tears and exclaiming: Once again, once again. Mélanie was devastated by the pain, she fell on a chair without strength and as if unconscious; the poor father was standing, motionless, assisted by M. le Curé. - My friends, courage! Let's be generous! said the Missionary. He put on his coat, took his hat in his hand and went out to get into the car. Everyone followed him, except Melanie and a few people; several inhabitants of Saint-Loup were waiting in the street to bid him a last farewell; he greeted them affectionately, then: Adieu! farewell ! we will see each other again in heaven... And the carriage drove towards Parthenay: the great sacrifice had been accomplished, and from then on Mr. Vénard could say in all truth, without insulting his other children: I have lost the most beautiful flower of my rosebush. Arrived at Parthenay at midnight to take the car, we learned that she had been gone for five minutes, the first mishap which cost the Missionary dearly: because he would have liked the last separation to be made: he felt his heart on the point of overflowing. . Nevertheless, we had to wait for another car at six o'clock in the morning; then all was said; but our two young people noticed very clearly that as soon as they got on, Theophane turned his eyes away so as not to look at them any longer; and seeing him walking away, his face hidden in his hands, they thought he was crying bitterly: didn't he need it to soothe his poor heart, which he had been struggling to contain for so long? a long time?

chapter five

Théophane in Paris: the foreign mission seminary. — the sweet memories of the family. — practice of the great virtues: fraternal charity, humility,

zeal, piety. — ordination of the diaconate. — Paris and its wonders. — the political question in 1851.

Three days after these events, Théophane also left Poitiers. It was a new sacrifice which he accomplished with the same generosity as all the preceding ones, with the same calm, the same gaiety of heart; all, seeing him so filled with divine fire, so inflamed with the desire to save souls, could not help entertaining the highest hopes for the apostolic works he was to accomplish and the eminent services he was called to perform. return to the Propagation of the Faith in the infidel countries. For him, the humble sub-deacon regarded himself as an unworthy workman; he had no ambition, or rather he had only one: also, with what vivacity, full of conviction, he continued the too benevolent friend who dared to say to him: You, you will be Bishop! “I, Bishop,” he resumed; Oh ! no, better martyrdom! — This word, thus escaping from his mouth, was a burning aspiration; it could also be a true prediction of the grace that was one day in store for him.

But already the future Missionary reaches Paris, the big city; he knocks at the door of the Seminary of the Foreign Missions, and this door is opened to him: his wishes are satisfied: How my heart was beating! he exclaims; how great was my emotion! However, I did not experience any trouble... Scarcely had I arrived when my new colleagues knew about it, and they rushed to install me in my cell. Two go down to get my trunk, another takes care of preparing my bed for the night, the others dispose of the rest of my little household. In an instant, I am aware of everything that is most essential to know. Lest I get bored, they don't leave me; themselves take me to see MM. the directors ; in a word, there is no delicate attention they do not have for me. Oh ! charity really lives in our Seminary! The perfume of this amiable virtue embellishes, if one can express oneself thus, the air which one breathes there.

The Foreign Missions Seminary! this indeed is indeed the sacred sanctuary of charity. This divine fire is constantly kept up and nourished there, in order to spread its fertile heat to the extremities of the eastern world. Within the great city, in the midst of a world carried away by the whirlwind of business and pleasure, and by concerns quite different from those whose motive is in the Christian faith, men, most of them still young, but already apostles by heart, find solitude and peace, and in this peace and this solitude draw abundantly the floods of grace which will transform them. Holy retreat, new blessed cenacle that the Holy Spirit delights to visit, where he mysteriously distributes his marvelous gifts, through which these new soldiers of Christ will set out to conquer souls!

There, one can imagine, Theophane must have found himself perfectly happy. However, this happiness did not prevent her from still feeling the bitterness of separation:

We are a perfectly united family, he writes. The marigold is not known among us, unless it is in the middle of the grasses which form the lawns of the garden; but then, by trampling it on. feet, we treat him as he deserves. I would have nothing more to desire now, if I had you close to me, my dear friends. I feel that I have made a great sacrifice, and I still renew it every day. Your memory, O my father, my sister, my brothers, your memory penetrates me to the bottom of my soul. You were half of my heart, and you always will be. Ah! what does the distance matter, since we are united in the holy Hearts of Jesus and Mary? No, we will not leave each other here below, we will always be united, and in heaven again and above all. God tests us, it is true: it is because he loves us. Oh ! he gave us the good part: the Cross that leads to heaven! Let's go then, full of resignation and confidence! Let us repeat with faith: In heaven the rendezvous! let no one miss it!

Nevertheless, this return of the heart to those he had left was not a regret and even less a desire to reconsider his sacrifice. On this point the following answer should have completely dissipated the paternal worries, assuming that they existed in reality: to reproach you on this point. Am I not now more than ever the child of Providence? Have you not yourself confided me to her care? Ah! banish all fear! "He who makes the flowers of the field grow, clothes and nourishes the birds of the air, gives, as he himself assures, shelter to the sparrow. Oh! he will take good care of me, wherever I am: I'm worth at least a sparrow!

If I miss something, it is your presence with me; but I often converse in your memory, my thoughts constantly transport me to you, and in that I feel no sorrow. On the contrary, the feeling which results from it in the bottom of my heart is a feeling of peaceful and sweet joy which produces the suffering and resigned love. It is thus that the pious soul expands in the thought of heaven, although it pains it not to be yet in this abode of unalterable happiness. But let's have confidence: pass a few more years, and they will pass like an instant, and the reunion will come, and everything will be amply compensated, damages and interest. What a happy day! Christian Hope, how beautiful you are! How well you satisfy the desires of the heart of man, to be one day here below, created immortal for the heavens!

During the first months which followed the separation, the letters from the family were undoubtedly always a little plaintive, and expressed the immense void which the departure of the Missionary had dug in the midst of his family. Also, all his answers tend to heal the still bleeding wound, and he wants to have a word to calm everyone's pain. Thus, he wrote to his brother Henri the following lines:

My very dear Henri, reading your letter has moved me greatly, and each time I have repeated it, which has often happened to me. — Poor and happy brother, you tell me, what a void you leave, which will never be filled!... — Oh! I know it well, I am too loved to be forgotten. I know very well that my memory will not leave those from whom I separated, and my brother in particular. — But memory is not presence... — I can say like you. My thoughts often go back to the paternal roof, stopping at each of those who still live there, and she goes to find the college of Airvault, then passing by Saint-Loup again, she returns to me, but she is alone. So God willed it, my brother, and we resigned ourselves to his holy will. Ah! bless her always! Will one day the voids not be filled? Don't we all go to the same appointment? There, you know, we are already expected. No doubt you remember that evening which preceded the last, in which you accompanied me on my farewell visits. You had the happy inspiration to take me to the cemetery, we prayed together; we were talking about our mother, and you were crying. Oh ! one day we will join her in heaven, where we long to see ourselves reunited with her; it is our firm hope, in the bonds of which, embracing each other, we have drawn our hearts together."

Addressed to his beloved sister, Théophane writes again: Before beginning my letter, I have just reread yours, and for the tenth time. O my good sister, I understand each of your words, for the good God has given us the same heart; if I sometimes happen to recall the past in my memory, I find in us two of the same tastes, the same affections. We were really born for each other, and yet how come we are separated?... Yes, yes, in spite of that, it is quite true, we were born to be united, to do only one soul; you understand, here below, and in heaven much better still, in the holy Hearts of Jesus and Mary. And don't you see that if Providence separates us, it's because it wants to reunite us?... As you say yourself, my dear Mélanie, living together here below, we would have attached ourselves to the earth ; while, separated, our souls will purify themselves better, and will sigh with more ardor for the happy moment when they can fly to heaven. Ah! said a great servant of God, if divine goodness had not mixed a little gall in the things of this world, we would have become accustomed to the place of exile, forgetting our homeland.

To his younger brother, he also gives the little word of consolation; but always he finds at the same time the opportunity to awaken his piety: You can only imagine by the pleasure you feel in receiving my letters, the one who flooded my heart on receiving yours. Your words, my dear Eusebius, burning with fraternal love, have penetrated to the very depths of my soul; I see clearly, and I knew in advance that it would be so, that the sacrifice asked of your heart has moved it strongly; nevertheless I am greatly consoled in learning that you did not allow yourself to be defeated, and that you reasoned with your grief. You threw yourself into Mary's arms, like a child in its mother's arms. Oh ! there, on a mother's bosom, it is good to rest one's head! And when this mother is the very good, very loving Mother, the Mother of mothers, Mary, once again, let's say that it is good to rest on her heart! May it be there, my very dear brother, your asylum, always, always! The Blessed Virgin is much loved and honored at the Séminaire des Missions-Étrangères: she is also the second Providence of the Missionary. So when you have some difficulty, when you experience some boredom, go entrust it to She who consoles, offer through her to Jesus the little trial, and worry no longer about anything. Thus, you will have nothing to fear, neither from the devil, nor from men; you will follow peaceful and happy, as much as one can be here below, the way of life, and you will arrive full of hope where each one is called, where each one of us would like to be already returned.

This ravishing piety, joined to filial and fraternal love, was above all what softened, for the future Missionary, the bitterness of separation. The Lord, who had asked for the sacrifice, was thus pleased to flood his heart with the purest joys, and the pious Theophanes liked to publish, very often, these ineffable kindnesses of his beloved Master. O my God, he said, you yourself thus put the balm of consolation and joy in our hearts, whereas, naturally, they should be broken with pain. You make us taste all the charms of friendship, even when we are separated, perhaps without return! O God! purify our love! Yes, that we love each other, but for you! may we be one, but in you! Amen! With a heart so well prepared and so fully devoted to Jesus Christ, Theophanes soon had to rise to the practice of the most eminent virtues. However, there as everywhere, his modesty feared the gaze, and if, in spite of himself, the beauty of his soul threw forth brilliant flashes, it was never but through the veils of simplicity and humility. Why can't we reproduce on this subject the complete eulogies of his superiors and the intimate communications which were made to us by his friends, and by the one who, as Bishop of Poitiers says, was the privileged confidant of his heart, and descended, more than any other, into the secrets of his soul?

The pious Theophanes, again called His Majesty, had a frank and upright soul, in a way transparent; she willingly allowed herself to be penetrated by friendly eyes. Endowed with a confident and communicative character, he was very accessible to the charms of friendship; he especially needed openness and effusion. Now, to know him was to love him. — Among his many confidants at the Séminaire de Paris, we cite, in the first line, M. Dallet and M. Theurel, both of the same age as him, enjoying, like him, pouring out their loving hearts and communicating to each other their most intimate impressions. more pious.

However, at the Missions-Étrangères, this friendship, which was so sweet, so intimate, so fraternal, did not know the weaknesses of the heart; and the tender ties which united the three friends so agreeably served above all for their advancement in the paths of perfection, to which all their desires aspired. So first of all, between them, a secret pact was concluded, by which they were to render each other the mutual service of warning each other of their little failings. Now, according to his friends, Theophane fulfilled his duty in conscience, and he would even have appeared severe in his petty reproaches, if the gravity of his words had not been tempered by the most exquisite gentleness. For him, it seems he didn't need a monitor; he was more severe towards him than any friend could ever have been. Through this work he became so humble that very often in meditation he saw faults incompatible with the apostolic vocation; and this conviction, which was sincere,

led him to conjure pious souls to make prayers for him. On several occasions, we know, he went and threw himself at the feet of the Virgin of Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, in order to obtain the grace of his conversion; he even pushed his scruples so far as to have himself publicly recommended. It was in this thought that he wrote to his father: "If I enjoy sufficiently flourishing outward health, I must acquire another more necessary one, which is the health of the soul; and I must, to the Missionary, strong beyond all tests. It is God above all who gives it even better than the health of the body. O my father, ask, ask him for me, ask through the intercession of Mary. You have made my person the generous sacrifice, you gave me to the good God, with all your heart. Oh! yes, my dear father, God will give you an account of it on the day of the days when everything will be weighed, he who promised to take account of the glass , of cold water given in his name. But the richer and more precious the present, the better it is received; embellish then, adorn your present with all the fervor of your prayers. The more glory will reflect on your crown, when it will be given to you. You see, our interests are not separate, they never will be, since they are bound by the charity of Our Lord.Jesus Christ in which I have the happiness of being your very respectful and affectionate son. "

On the following page, he addresses a pious and venerable young lady who had offered him her assistance in preparing his chapel, and, after having given her the information requested, he adds these words: "I am not even certain of leaving : shall I not be found too unworthy? I hope in the grace and mercy of my Saviour, Until now I have not seen the future with any eye other than in the past; quite the contrary I am more firm, more resolute; but after all it is not I who judge me in the last resort. The holy will of God be done!—After all, God would allow me not to be a missionary, which I cannot know, since everything makes me believe the contrary, this thought should not worry you: because it is not for me, but for God that your charity works, and you would not be embarrassed to invest the fruits of your labors, if I was not to receive them myself, which I don't suppose must be. go for me, and I end my letter with this consideration, I would be hard pressed to give you a reward, a thank you worthy of your zeal. But, God be praised! it is to him that you have dedicated your life. Oh ! what a crown of glory he intends for you! what a beautiful jewel you are going to add to it by cooperating in the extension of his Gospel in distant lands! How happy I will be, on the day of the great distribution of merit awards, to acclaim yours recognized and glorified, and to sing Amen to the solemn declaration which will introduce you to the abode of life, light, love , with God, Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and all the blessed! "

To so many eminent virtues, the pious Theophanes still added to a very excellent degree the spirit of proselytism; he was keen to see a large number of workers arrive at the Lord's vineyard: his letters to Bishop de Poitiers above all are proof of this. Thus, after having made to His Grace a presentation of the state of the Seminary of Paris and having given praise to the dioceses which supply this cenacle the most with new apostles, he exclaims: And Poitiers too can say: I have the mine and in their ranks a glory. Ah! Poitou is stirring, Monseigneur; you are the head of the movement, and I am happy and proud of it. Oh ! Let the battalion grow stronger and bigger! I have the honor of my regiment at heart, and it seems to me that my wishes are the wishes of a good soldier.

Théophane was ordained deacon at Christmas 1851; and although this was not yet for him a final consecration, nevertheless his reflective spirit, which did not stop at the present, considered as very near the day of his elevation to the priesthood. This is why he wanted to give all his care to the spiritual retreat which preceded the ordination. The happiness of these communications with his God and of these intimate outpourings that his heart saw happening, made him address to his young brother this poetic and quite celestial description: Sunday evening, he said, we will enter into retreat until Saturday the day of ordination, a gentle, peaceful retreat, without worry, without fatigue: delicious solitude in the shade of the altar, far from the bustle of the world. Imagine a spring day, a clear sky, a new sun, budding foliage, the calm of the forests, nature sleeping. Ah! it's even better than all that, the sky begun, the sky in small! God who gives himself, communicates himself to man; the man who rises, unites with God! Ah! what happiness, my dear friend!

After the ordination, it is to his friends of Saint-Loup that the new deacon will communicate his happiness. My good friends, who would I share my ordination day emotions with better than you? They are beautiful days in life, those days when God draws nearer to man, and pours into the soul an outpouring of his eternal beatitude. God unites with man; through Jesus Christ the God-Man, man becomes God; the mind expands, the heart expands. And this is the mystery of the destinies of humanity, of each one of us. It is the mystery of Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Communion, Ordination, heaven seen from afar, something that cannot be expressed, but that everyone feels in their moments of fervor. Ah! I said to myself in the morning on our way to Saint-Sulpice while Paris was still asleep, ah! How many human passions are going to stir today, and how much I have received the good part! — The ordination was general, and all the various communities of Paris had their members there: thus at my side I saw Lazarists, Picputians, Dominicans, Missionaries of the Holy Spirit, Irishmen, Negroes; I did not know any of them, but my heart revered and loved them as children of the same Father, servants of the same Master, soldiers of the same King. The same goal had brought us together, the same grace in different degrees was distributed to us, the same God gave himself to us, we invoked the same Queen, Mary the Mother of the Savior of the world; and then, like brothers, we gave each other the kiss of peace received from the Pontiff. Ah! how happy I felt!!!"

Further down in the same letter, the pious Theophanes, his heart full of emotion at these touching memories, added on the subject of the chants and ceremonies of the Church: The chants of the Church always have for me a new charm. The more I hear them, the more I like to hear them, like

the more I sing them, the more I like to sing them: for it is the song of exiled man, the song of the Church which prays, hopes, loves. Oh! How I wish the French people had become Christians again, and resumed singing the songs of their fathers which they sang so well in those days of simple and naive faith! What good is the dissipation of earthly pleasures, political dissipation!... Cursed be the wicked, who took away from my fellow citizens their beliefs and their hopes, peace of heart, calm of desires! They were so happy! 'No, let's not curse anyone; May God have mercy on all! "

After having said a word about the beauties of the cult, let us now speak of profane marvels, and certainly the subject will not be lacking, even within the capital. The young Parisian is going to speak to us first of what is commonly called the world, which he considers in its different situations and varied classes, people, bourgeoisie, aristocracy. He writes to his brother Henry:

"In Paris, my dear, as you say, the two extremes are present. Vice and virtue reign there: vice, in what is most ignoble; virtue carried to the highest degree of heroism I have been able, at leisure, to contemplate, on several occasions, what is called the world. It often happens to us, on returning from Meudon, where our modest country house is situated, two leagues from Paris, from pass through Boulogne. It is a magnificent walk in the middle of very extensive woods, and where all the amenities imaginable have been brought together. The Bois de Boulogne receives a crowd of visitors; one sees only cavalcades, trains of all kinds. species.

Leaving the wood, you find yourself in the avenue leading to the Place de la Concorde, via the Arc-de-Triumph of the Star, an avenue planted with trees, lined with superb houses, one league long. at least. There is the road of cars, which pass by the thousands there, and the road of foot soldiers, who bump into each other there. This is the path of pleasure; everyone wants to take part. "Is the pleasure in the midst of the tumult and the din?" Yes, for those who want to be stunned. And happiness ? No. My brother; if you want to be happy, stay at your father's hearth. It's family life, when God is honored, when everyone loves and supports each other, that satisfies the heart, as much as the heart here below can be. We now say: The people, the great human family! We see written everywhere: Fraternity! Meaningless words! In this famous Paris, the family has in fact been abolished. — The fusion must be complete! - Ah! beautiful mixture than the one that took place! If I didn't respect honest and virtuous souls who do good, despite everything, I would say: Paris is a confused jumble, where no one knows each other, loves each other, esteems each other. — For fraternity to be true, it must be written, not on the walls, but in the hearts, and it can only be in the hearts of good Christians. Then the bonds of each family, far from being dissolved, are strengthened; families do not isolate each other, but help each other. Relationships of reciprocity are established which are the charm of life, and then all the members are united, more or less closely, in the charity of Him who died for all: Our Lord Jesus Christ. ! Thus, my dear Henri, each one lives first for his family, each one lives for his friends, each one lives for all men, but first each one lives for God; or rather God in everything and always, our principle and our end, becomes the driving force of our life. —Let everyone do the same: what beautiful harmony will follow!

Young Eusebius had also asked his Theophanes for a description of Paris; the latter, after many solicitations, finally satisfied his desires: You would like, my dear Eusebius, that I take you on an imaginative walk among the beauties of the capital. But how do you want me to do it? We have written books on this subject, and big books, and we haven't said everything. At this preamble I see you widening your eyes: What is this famous Paris that everyone is talking about? Is it an enchanted country? Are the stones silver and gold? Do trees grow cakes? Does the river flow sparkling wine and milk so sweet? No doubt there is a sun and a moon for Paris all by itself, and the men there are much finer than elsewhere? - Well ! let's go to Paris. I don't want to take you through certain suburbs, all black with factory smoke, muddy and muddy, where the inhabitants have unearthed faces. We can simply leave the landing stage at Orleans, where the Poitiers railway ends, and find ourselves on what are called the quays which border the Seine, or rather which narrow the Seine in a very narrow bed where end in all the sewers, and which rolls off a very unclear water, to say nothing more (our Thouet has more charms). with which they are peopled did not dishonor them....

We are at the center of the Parisian world. We see the fine hotels, the brilliant crews, the idlers who smell the air and the news, the well-dressed gentlemen, the ladies who bask about like peacocks and who would really need to go to the school of modesty, humility and even common sense. We take sentimental walks, we circulate in museums or collections of universal curiosities, in the galleries of the National Palace, formerly the Royal Palace, around the animal lodges in the Jardin des Plantes; we visit the monuments, we go to the Bois de Boulogne to show off the new fashions, we want to see and be seen. The maids make the children play, the monkeys make antics, the water jets work, the jugglers strive to make them laugh... Isn't dinner well earned? Follows the living room where everyone plays their role as best they can. You have to go to the show, to the ball. The gas illuminates the city since nightfall, it's time to go take a rest. What a day for a reasonable creature, for a Christian! ! ! — This is the world, the world of the so-called happy people of the earth. I say no more, my good friend! I have all this nonsense in disgust. And then, I would never finish if I undertook to characterize all the ridiculousness of the poor human species, when it does not posit God, the good God, the great God Jesus Christ, the Savior God, principle, center and end of life. One will give himself the air of a philosopher, the other will dream like a poet, this one has a passion for music, that one has a passion for paintings. There are those who talk indiscriminately on all sorts of subjects: who does not try to have his say in politics? Pity ! pity !!

Ah! my dear Eusebius, how happy I am, after having rubbed elbows with the world, hearing its tumult, to return to our retreat at the Mission Seminary! How I love the solitude of its corridors, the peace of its cells, the order of the exercises, the long hours of study and meditation which are still too short, the gaiety of its recreations, the charity of its inhabitants, the charm of her chapel, the voice of her memories, a je ne sais quoi that speaks of apostolate and martyrdom!

Now let's go to Versailles. Versailles is famous only for its chateau, and that is a lot. I visited this marvelous monument and its huge park, without enthusiasm. I then said to myself: So this is the most beautiful thing that man has produced! I am destined to see far greater magnificence one day! The earth pales when compared to the sky! "

To a childhood friend, the future Missionary also said:

"I have visited Paris and its marvels! Saint-Loup is better, because it gives happiness to its peaceful inhabitants. you'll find it good."

Théophane also speaks of inventions; and about the balloons, he says: Even the ladies put on a show; formerly, paganism would have branded them? What does all this portend? — If man returned to God the glory of his discoveries, God could bless them; but we incline to the materialism of life: may God have mercy on France and on Europe! "

Another time, his mind returns to the stark contrast of good and evil in the same city of Paris. If you make a trip there one day, he writes, you will see with your own eyes this great city of good and evil, the immense dissipation of its life, the dizzying hubbub of all that stirs within its walls. Ah! how I detest its streets which tire my feet, my ears and my eyes, where circulates the world and the procession of its vices! etc., etc., etc.

Beside, or rather in the middle of the city of the devil, is also built the city of God; but it is not built the same way, and many who have eyes do not see it. Virtue is not going to stale in the open air, it lives modestly under the eye of Providence, which maintains and expands it. Oh ! no, Christianity is not dead, as the wicked like to say, tail of Voltaire and company.

Finally, disgusted at talking about Paris and its profane marvels, the pious seminarian suddenly exclaims: What's the use of discussing the vanities of the world? These are fine vanities, no doubt; but the sky is more beautiful and gives eternity; a God-loving soul is more beautiful, and it will see God, the unspeakable beauty. Shall I tell you, for example, that I went to visit the sumptuous decorations of Notre-Dame, which served for the triumph of Louis-Napoleon, on the first day of the year 1852? You cannot imagine anything so splendid on earth. But what I found most beautiful in it was the thought that brought the grandeurs of the earth before the Majesty of God, and the share of glory that went to the holy Catholic Church. It is God who is the sovereign beauty, it is his works that are beautiful; and man is only great, his works are beautiful, only when he attaches himself to God and draws from him the inspirations of his thought. Glory to God in all things, my dear Eusebius, everywhere and always, through Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen!,

To his brother Henri, on the same subject, he said again: I liked to contemplate this pomp, these torches, and these banners, these various pavilions bowing before the greatness of God. It is remarkable that all the powers are going to ask the Catholic Church as the support of their right, as a permission to exist. It is that the Catholic Church is the primary power, the indestructible power, and among a Catholic people, the government which is not Catholic cannot exist; the wind will sweep it away in stormy days.

This is assuredly a magnificent point of view, from which one can consider every political question in its true light; After that, it is not surprising that, faced thus with the events of that time, the clairvoyant Missionary formulated judgments about them full of wisdom. In 1848, his mind had been struck by the violent debates of the National Assembly, which presaged only misfortunes: so, when he arrived in Paris, he was very anxious to see the appearance of the Chamber and to judge for himself. One day, therefore, he had free admission, and immediately after the session he put his hand to the pen, in order to share with his father his impressions which were far from leading to hope.

As if to realize his grim predictions, the political horizon grew darker and darker; and, on the first of November, Théophane wrote with sadness to his father: You know, my dear father, that the year which is beginning is announced under sad omens; we do not know what future Providence has in store for us. The peoples have greatly forfeited God, and they seem not to understand him....

The same day, the pious Théophane said to his brother Henri: From time to time the wind of opinion comes to blow in our ears some sinister presentiments... Everyone is worried... When the conscience is not without reproach, remorse agitates it, an indefinite fear saddens life; the people are like this today, their conscience is not clear, and they are afraid. But the Catholic Church fears nothing for her, good Christians fear nothing for them, because they have placed their hope in God.

To the young Eusebius whose heart was a little worried about his elder, in these conjunctures within the bustling Paris, he also wrote these words: "What does the future matter to us? If it happened that the world of today "Today was destroyed, God, with his holy Church, would know how to give us a better one. Do not be afraid, my good friend, do not worry about anything about me; it is only the wicked who must tremble. .

Finally, the coup d'etat of December XNUMX having occurred, Théophane immediately wrote to his family:

“THE PEACE OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU!

My dear father,

It is ten o'clock in the morning... Paris is declared in a state of siege, the National Assembly is dissolved. Then he tells how the event happened, and he adds: The good Lord deigns to come to our aid! Let us pray for France and all of Europe! — We were expecting the shock at any moment, for the news comes to us from the first source. "When will it all end?" Men and events pass: God alone is immutable, let's go to him! The works remain, let us do works of justice. Let's detach ourselves from human things; to the sky our minds and our hearts!!

To the young seminarian of Montmorillon he also said:

... To remedy the evil, France must convert; otherwise God will allow the workers, those who have nothing, to be the instruments of his vengeance sooner or later, tomorrow or in fifty years. We must therefore, each and everyone in particular, strive to become better, and then God will have mercy on us... — As far as I am concerned, I assure you that I am in perfect safety: our Congregation is seen from a good eye in Paris, and just about everyone knows her. In February 1848, the day before the forfeiture of Louis-Philippe, the Community crossed the Champs-Elysées; an innumerable crowd circulated in all directions; and several, seeing ecclesiastics pass by, were deliberating on what to do with them; but some said, Let them be: they are the ones who will be martyrize in China. The observation was very well appreciated.

“Thursday, December XNUMX, we passed through Boulogne; a detachment of cuirassiers was going at full speed to Paris, where they were fighting. All the workers had gone out into the streets, silent and worried; of our colleagues roamed the streets where the barricades had been erected the day before; the soldiers bivouacked around large fires, the people circulated innumerable, silent, full of the spirit of vengeance; our colleagues were allowed to pass without difficulty, however.

Finally, after the coup d'etat, the passions having calmed down, hope gradually returned to people's minds, Théophane also conceived hope.^, and he told his revered godmother: "The present government, he said, seems to have the principle of giving religion all the honor that is due to it. If it continues on this footing, God will bless it and will be able to to use him to reorganize our poor France.—Since God became man, the Man-God must march at the head of humanity, otherwise humanity will remain languishing; the peoples raised by Christianity will be ungovernable , for the reason that the corruption of what is best is always greater. Men who see things from afar hope in the future, I like to hope with them. I will be blessed, returned to foreign lands, to hear this good news from my country. Come this beautiful day! Amen!

To these beautiful words we want to add this sentence with which we cannot better conclude this chapter: My God, the people know you and love you by instinct. His leaders deceive him, lead him astray!... It would be such a beautiful spectacle, if everyone served you in concert, with the same spirit, the same heart!!!....

Chapter Six

Théophane in Paris (continued): advice to Eusèbe, ecclesiastical pupil. — the love at first sight of August 1852, XNUMX. —

advice to Henri, a young man of the world. — advice to Mélanie, future nun. — the oratory of the Blessed Virgin and the hall of the martyrs at the seminary of foreign missions. — priesthood ordination. — hasty departure. — farewell ceremony.

In the preceding chapter, of which this is only the continuation, we quoted a large number of letters or fragments of letters from the future Missionary, on many subjects; and yet we have not yet approached the remarkable article of the instructions, advice and counsel given to his brothers and his sister, following what we have seen elsewhere. For the three, the language will undoubtedly be very different, because of what they must be one day: a priest, a nun, a man of the world; but the talent of the Mentor united to his fraternal love will always be able to dictate, the best in the world, what is suitable for each one. We begin with the instructions addressed to young Eusebius, because they are the longest. The poor child, barely entering adolescence, deprived of his role model, seemed in fact to have the greatest need of it.

Théophane, in his lessons, insists on piety and cheerfulness, two virtues which he regards as fundamental in a schoolboy; and when time does not allow him to give a long sermon, at least the little notes he sends to the young man always recall these two points considered more important. "Good luck, my dear Eusebius, he wrote, in the midst of your worries! Chase boredom away from you. You must get used to living in the midst of annoyances, in the midst of disgust; rises and grows; you will find perfection nowhere, it is only in the sky. And then there are no fine days without a cloud. You must resign yourself to the rain, to the frosts, as one rejoices in the beautiful time: always be cheerful all the same, but be cheerful by God!”

For a long time the young brother had been waiting for a long letter, having himself asked for advice which could not be refused to him, at the moment when he was about to leave the college to enter the Minor Seminary. Then Theophane finally wrote to him:

"Here you are at an age, my dear Eusebius, decisive for your future existence, because it is at this age that convictions are formed little by little in the mind, thought becoming more serious and things being done see in a clearer light.

"My good friend, in your dealings with men you will have to fight many prejudices; for a long time, you see, the peoples have gone astray in their ways. Today European society is putrefied and is decomposing like a corpse: God alone foresees his destiny! This is not to say that formerly men were not bad, man is the same everywhere and always. But in the past, that is to say there are a few centuries, society had solid foundations, there was life in it, for society was religious, and God alone gives life both to individual man and to nations.

“What position, my dear Eusebius, will you occupy one day among your fellow men? You will pray to God to make it known to you, you will simply, humbly pray, and you will be heard. Whatever happens, listen carefully to this: there are those who say: I want to be a priest, I want to be a soldier, I want to be an owner; a priest, a soldier, an owner do not need they have such lofty knowledge, and they only study what seems to them to be suitable for such and such a state.—Calculation of the lazy. Such reasonings must be made on piety.—Piety! good for priests and nuns! God! don't ask me so much about it (which is often ignored).—Calculus of cold and indifferent hearts!—You, my good brother, you will say: I am a man above all, God created me to know him , love and serve him; I come from God, I go to God, I belong to God; my body is his, my spirit is his, m our heart is his; my body, my spirit and my heart will be judged according to their works, according to the measure of the graces distributed to each of them. Well! I will use, God helping, my body, my spirit and my heart, the best that it will be possible for me, for his greatest glory and his greatest love.

“My dear Eusebius, all life well spent is summed up in this: Faithful correspondence to grace! good use of the talents received! —There is no other virtue, no other piety, and this is the same for all.—But what does God require of me?' "We must pray, observe the divine commandments, listen to the voice of our Holy Mother Church, and then abandon ourselves confidently to Providence. How many men do not reason thus! "It is up to God alone to judge them!

For you, my good friend, you have to continue your studies for the present, a blessing that you owe to divine goodness and to the generous love of our venerable father. You will use it well, I have no doubt, and you will not resemble the great number for whom education is a misfortune. You will work for God; he who does not work for God works for the party of the devil and his friend the world. —Now, God is represented here below by the Catholic, Apostolic, Roman Church; it is the city of God of which you are a citizen wherever you live. I would explain myself much more, but the developments would be too long, and besides, time will teach you. One word only:

Our Lord Jesus Christ is the head of the city of God; but we will only see it after the consummation and renewal of all things. The Pope represents him on earth with the body of bishops; they are the permanent and infallible authority in which one must believe as in Jesus Christ. Who is not with them is against them. The Catholic Church is militant on earth against Satan and the world. It receives attacks in all forms, since it exists. You will fight for it, having for guide the teaching authority, for protection the prayers of the saints.

.... From now on you must get used to good tone in conversation; the sweet, honest, polite joke is unfortunately too little known, we prefer to jeer! — Perfect men are extremely rare, the wise take the good wherever he finds it, and leave the waste. I end this speech, which may seem a bit insipid to you, by urging you to follow the straight path without flinching; the principles of life laid down and the good seen, forward! and scorners! You will crown it all with the love of a little child towards the Blessed Virgin and a trusting friendship with your Guardian Angel. "

The young brother was therefore going to enter the Minor Seminary. The advice we have just read is addressed in part to any young man who is beginning his academic career; those which follow will be dictated especially for those who are destined for the ecclesiastical state:

"Your tastes and your thoughts and a secret impulse of grace, my good brother, lead you towards the ecclesiastical state. Oh! may the Lord be a thousand and a thousand times blessed! But if the Lord calls you, you must One day young Samuel heard a voice: Samuel, Samuel—Here I am, Lord, replied the young man, here I am." "Eusebius, Eusebius! and it seems to you that the Lord is also calling you to him. Well! answer like Samuel: Here I am, Lord, for you have appointed me, and I come: what do you want me to do? and your past kindnesses have taught me that I shall not miss her.

"So it's around the 1^er October, month consecrated to the Holy Angels, may you leave your first homeland, your native soil, the pretty golden valley which gave its name to the small town which witnessed your first attempts at study. Courage, you are going to another country; when we leave something for God, we receive a hundredfold reward and from here below, the Lord has said so. And now you're all alone? Oh! no, no, you are the child of the Blessed Virgin, the little sheep of God; have confidence. Nevertheless if your heart melts into yourself, go, my good brother, go, weep in the chapel, go and offer as firstfruits to Jesus and to Mary, your tears and your sacrifice, and there, alone before God alone, consecrate- you wholeheartedly at his service. Offer him, to begin with, your life as a Minor Seminary; throw yourself like a child into the arms of Mary, and believe it well, you will not be abandoned...

Soon you will have to choose a confessor, you will pray to Jesus Christ and the Blessed Virgin to enlighten you. You will open your heart to whomever the good Lord has given you, not only in confession, but in private conversations that you will have with him during the visits that you will have to pay him from time to time. You will faithfully expose your whole interior to him according to the inspiration of grace, you will consult him in your studies, and you will seek consolation from him in your sorrows. You will follow his advice punctually, without changing one iota. This is called the spiritual direction necessary for anyone who wants to advance in goodness. Entrust yourself without fear to your director, he must keep and he will keep your little confidences like a secret of confession...

“You are no longer a child, my dear Eusebius, and you must begin to live as a young man worthy of the merciful designs of Providence for you. the pious emotions, putting the date. You will dedicate them to the Blessed Virgin. Later you will reread them with happiness, and that will rekindle your soul in the days of dejection. "

Theophanes, we know, had himself put this last point into practice; and his friends at the Foreign Missions, into whose hands these pages of pious impressions had fallen on one occasion, declared to us that they were truly worthy of attracting attention. They made all their efforts in vain to obtain a copy of it, or at least to obtain its conservation: Theophane demanded that they burn them themselves with several other compositions, at the time of an illness which seemed to offer for him very serious fears.

Let us take up the letter and the advice addressed to his brother: "Be humble before God, remembering your misery, and before men to resemble the divine Master, who prepared himself by thirty years of a humble and hidden life for his public ministry. If you are humble, you will be charitable towards your new classmates, not looking for yourself in any way, but devoting yourself entirely to them, even to those who would cause you pain. give to the poor. Besides, you must not go to great expense, do not imitate everything you see done. Remember the paternal house; remember the unfortunates who have barely enough not to to starve.

"Above all, you must be pious, love everything that has to do with God, venerate the Lord's priests, enjoy talking about Jesus and Mary. God is in the little things as well as in the great; it must be the great motive of your thoughts, of your actions, of your words. You will often go to confession; you will have much devotion to the Blessed Sacrament of the altar, and then you will enter the Congregation as soon as possible. of the Blessed Virgin Ah, my God, how happy I was the first day that I called myself a Congreganist, what delicious emotions around your altar, O my Mother!

"Come, go, my dear Eusebius, take refuge under the wing of Jesus and Mary; go, flee the world and its vanities and its follies; go harden yourself against its perfidies and those of its master the demon. Go then; may the Angel of the Lord accompany you and guide your young steps in life; a vast horizon is open before your eyes. What a beautiful vocation is yours! Gaze upon it fixedly; and, anchored in the infinite mercy of God who called you, and trusting in his sustaining grace, boldly repeat the words of Saint Paul: Ad destinatum persequor, ad bravium supernoe vocationis in Christo Jesu! "

Eusèbe has arrived at the Minor Seminary, he is now fifteen years old, he is a young man; Theophane will make him glimpse the dignity of the young man: ... "Remember this parable of the Samaritan made by Our Lord: This charitable man meets a wounded man on his way, and he hastens to help him, pouring wine and oil in his wounds. Man, humanity is a great patient, a great wounded. While pouring into the soul of man and humanity the intoxicating wine of lost truth, he does not must not forget to pour the oil of charity which penetrates, softens and comforts. Pray for me, my dear brother, so that I know how to pour wine and oil.

A day will come, and this day will perhaps be in a few years, when you too will be told to go and pour wine and oil into the souls of our wounded brothers. I have the hope, sweet to my fraternal heart, that the good Lord will spare you this grace. But you have to be humble and pious. O Eusebius, you are passing through the most beautiful age of life. Do you know why ? 'Because it's the age of passions, the age of battles and great battles, and consequently of great victories. One day Our Lord saw a young man, and he looked at him with a gaze of love. Let's say better: the Savior looked at the young man, not a young man in particular, but the man in his young age, our young age, and he loved him: the young man is you. Courage, brother; be worthy of your age. After the victory, what a reward! Perhaps you will hear the voice of the divine Master saying: Come with me; then we would find ourselves soldiers of the same regiment, travelers on the same road, under the same sky! — Ait! ah! brother, what do you say?... God's holy will be done, not ours!

“Brother, often place the thought of your future in the hands of Providence, in the heart of Jesus, the God made man, and for a time a young man; for Jesus Christ is the God child, the God young man, the God man, the God of all ages; in the heart of Jesus, I say, and in the heart of Mary, our sweet Mother. Maintain friendship with your Guardian Angel; and then hope. Accomplish with joy the work of each day , learn carefully to sing the hymns of the Church. Be cheerful, very cheerful. The life of the Christian must be a perpetual day of celebration, a prelude to the feast of Eternity.

In closing, a thought comes to me, which is to suggest that you read and meditate, every day for a short minute, a verse from Chapters XIV, XV, XVI, XVII of the Gospel according to Saint John. You will not always understand, no matter, God will accept your good will. You will savor each word, a verse can serve you for several days. This is the last discourse of Jesus Christ to men: each letter is a precious pearl... — Finally, brother, I conclude by inviting you to say with me every morning the prayer that Solomon made, asking God for wisdom. God accepted Solomon's prayer, he will accept ours. "And what is wisdom?... It will be revealed to you later!" " God of our fathers and Lord of mercy, who created all things by your word, give me this wisdom which sits with you always on your throne, because I am your servant and the son of your handmaid; a weak and unimportant man, too small to understand your judgments; send her from the heavens where you dwell, that she may be with me, and work with me, that I may know what is most worthy of you... and do it. So be it"

The minor seminarian is now nearing the end of his Third. Théophane, having noticed in his letters some progress in literature, quickly seizes this opportunity to slip in some advice on this subject which will be developed later. It is always necessary, he says, that the sentence comes after the idea and is only its humble servant. Follow this principle |in your compositions,

what imagination there is deployed; before you say, you have to have something to say, there are so many who talk to say nothing; I don't like these wantons. Stick to the spirit of analysis and comparison. Love to realize all things: by it you will form your mind and regularize it, then after you place the borders of the way, you sow the plants and the flowers, and you adorn the landscape.

At the end of the school year, young Eusebius went on vacation: Theophane's heart went with him. Back in the homeland, he writes, visit people you know, everyone likes it; and then gaiety, gentleness, modesty, graciousness. And he adds: What pleasure parties you are going to have! I think of those family evenings! You will play, you will laugh; I almost envy such a fine fate... At least you'll talk a little about the absent, and then they'll tell me stories... I'm counting on it. Sometimes the memory of the past comes to my memory and brings tears to my eyes. O my friends, if there was no hope of meeting you again in heaven, if it did not seem to me that the Lord's will was for me to go away from you, would it that I would leave you? But in saying goodbye to you, we say to each other: Goodbye! is it not?... By all these instructions, so solid and so wise, we see that Théophane loved his brother sincerely and with the most efficacious love; he would have liked to make him good and pious as he himself was. To achieve this goal, the holy Missionary not only used persuasive words, but also addressed himself to the Lord in prayer; he conjured him to watch over him whom he called little Benjamin, and to protect his life; and when he was a priest, it was then above all that he had recourse for that to divine assistance by the offering of the holy Sacrifice, and did, so to speak, violence to God, as we shall see.

Théophane had written to his younger brother in the course of July: I will say Mass for you on the first of August, the feast of Saint Eusebius of Verceil, bishop and martyr, and he undoubtedly counted on it. Now, on the third of August, he received a new letter from Paris in which it read: "This morning, August XNUMX, I said Holy Mass for you, so that happiness may accompany you." Did Theophanes not fulfill his promise, and instead of saying this Mass on the first of August, did he postpone it until the next day? We are absolutely unaware of this; but without saying precisely that we see a miracle here, we will be convinced that at least there is a very strange and quite providential coincidence.

On the second Monday of August 1852, following a violent storm, lightning struck the Petit-Séminaire de Montmorillon, and a spark escaped from the electrical mass struck the young Eusèbe Vénard. The victim left for a moment for dead was with great difficulty brought back to life, and soon afterwards out of danger. Now, seeing this coincidence of the thunderbolt and the Mass of Theophanes, postponed to this same day for no apparent reason, it is very difficult for the mind of a man of faith not to be persuaded that there is a grace from Heaven due to the piety of the young priest. At least, we know that his brother Eusebius never wanted to hear that the thing was explained otherwise. On the other hand, the holy Missionary, who had noticed the coincidence himself and who had been reminded of it several times, gave no denial or explanation for it; a few days after the event, he confined himself to writing to his family with the greatest calm: I said a Mass of thanksgiving, this morning, to thank God for having preserved it for us.

The future Missionary, so devoted to his youngest brother, was no less so to Henry, by this time already a young man. In different circumstances, he gives him advice of capital importance. A short time after his brother's departure, Henri had written him a letter in which were expressed all the feelings of tenderness which the emptiness of separation had strongly felt in his heart; and in Theophane's reply he had noticed, amidst the most fraternal expressions, a flower of fragrant poetry; he congratulated her on it, knowing well, for a long time, her undeniable talent in this matter. In turn, Theophane took the opportunity to speak poetry and pronounce his judgment on this subject:

"I am not surprised, my dear Henri, he said, that you saw poetry in my letter, not that it was really there, but your heart put it there. Since you speak to me of poetry , I will make you a reflection on this subject: it is that the word and the thing have been profaned by men and are still so today more than ever. Poetry means elevation of the soul, outpouring of the heart in love with beauties he discovers in creation, and from there in God. The Christian Mysteries, especially the Mystery of the Holy Eucharist, are eminently poetic; there is the exquisite and fine flower of all poetry. But when I see Gentlemen the self -so-called poets carry their poetic dreams in an indefinite vagueness like space, without stopping at anything, then then abuse the purest and most beautiful words to clothe their ideas in mud and mire, my soul

rises. Poetry is not intoxication and exaltation of the senses! And three quarters and more of the poets make this poetry!! 'Henri, let's draw from other sources; the century flows its impure waves in all directions. O my brother, one may well be afraid of being overwhelmed by it. But be brave! let us follow the straight path, turning our heads neither to the right nor to the left. Do you see the exile who goes to the fatherland? He only sees her! We are all exiles here below, let's go to the homeland of Heaven! ! !

Like his youngest brother, Théophane also shares with Henri his reflections on the young man; but as Henry is in a completely different position in the middle of the world, the Missionary wants to tell him what the young man of the world is. the age of the young man!" he adds: "What is a young man?" "A contradictory being like all men. A lot of pride with a lot of generosity, a lot of independence with a certain submission, a lot of mud with many pure thoughts, courage and boldness with cowardice, hard work with great laziness, the element of evil and the element of good.

"I know young people in the middle of the world, living in the midst of luxury and pleasures, humble, gentle, respectful, charitable to the point of seeking out the poor in their most miserable places, pious with the piety of a good woman, as others say. Their gait is simple, natural, unobstructed; their bearing is full of amiable liveliness, their look is possessed, their forehead reflects the beauty of their soul, their presence is loved and envied, and their whole life flows in the exercise of good. They may make mistakes, for man is weak, but they put only greater trust in the divine mercy, which keeps them under his wing. God be blessed These young people are not very rare, but they do not loiter in the streets to make themselves known.

"There is another kind of young people. You see them outside or in cafes and other places where they meet for fun, never with themselves. They are worried, they walk like crazy, laugh or reason in the same kind; they assume airs of importance, they judge and criticize everything, they do not respect and do not venerate women, they want to see everything, to hear everything; they speak for the sake of speaking, their least bad deed is to do nothing, etc., etc. These young people swarm the streets of Paris: their secret life is even more deserving of pity than their public life.

"All young people, more or less, can take rank in these two battalions. Now it costs less to get on the right side, but you have to have heart, reason your life and..... love and serve God .

“Farewell, my brother; write to me at length: your letters do me so much good!...

Theophane's advice to her sister aims to lead her to perfection, to which she herself aspires with all her wishes. — Mélanie, still ill since her brother's departure, was more seriously affected only a few weeks after the separation. Then the news of a complete recovery was soon sent to Paris, and then the pious Théophane wrote to his sister these considerations on the profit that can be drawn from illness:

"My dear sister, I am very glad that you were ill, and that the illness had no unfortunate consequences. I hasten to give you the reason for the first part of my sentence, which could terrify you I thought you were too healthy, and excess is everywhere harmful. You had superfluity, that really suits someone who wants to abnegate all things. And then you had the opportunity to suffer something for the love of Jesus Christ. Oh! you will have well understood the advantage of your position. Sufferings, you know it well, are the currency with which one buys heaven. In this respect, you are at the beginning of your fortune. "As for me, I'm broke, as the popular saying goes; I'm a beggar, strictly speaking, like a church rat. But... I hope to go to California! So you see my reasoning doesn't "It's not too contrary to fraternal charity. Besides, you know very well that I love you."

Moreover, Theophane had for everyone that admirable charity which consists in loving the soul before loving the body, in wishing his friends spiritual goods before temporal goods, heaven before earth. He proves it in another very remarkable circumstance. Allow us this small digression really worthy of interest. — A young mother had asked the future Missionary to have her crippled daughter recommended to Notre-Dame-des-Victoires. The commission was fulfilled faithfully and happily; but the pious Theophanes, full of the Spirit of God, wrote to the poor mother:

“The matter is therefore now in the hands of the Blessed Virgin; it only remains to present the case to her, and we can count on it being well pleaded. But what are we going to ask?... Ah I speak to a mother, and I fear to sadden her heart. But also I speak to a Christian mother, and this thought gives me boldness. Well, then, what shall we ask of God through the intercession of Mary for your interesting little one? The life of the body or the life of the soul?... Here below health, happiness, or the crown of innocence in heaven, the satisfaction of our desires, or the most great glory of God?...

"Poor mother, I beg your pardon for speaking like this. I argue with maternal tenderness, I do not calculate the blows I strike. But why should I be afraid? No... I will be understood. If health of the body had to be prejudicial to your dear child, you would not ask for it for her, would you? soul and give him a finer reward, you would not want to thwart the designs of Providence. Oh! no, you would only ask for the grace of resignation for yourselves. But perhaps the God of mercies does not want to make you suffer such a severe ordeal; perhaps he wants to exercise your faith, and, if it is worthy, grant him his request, thus procure his glory, that of the Blessed Virgin, and give you great reasons for gratitude and of love towards him. So we must say: Lord, as you want it, I want it too. in ! Everything, Lord, for your greater glory!...

Let us return to what concerns the pious Melanie: for a long time she had wanted to consecrate herself entirely to God, and her brother's plans, as we have seen, had put obstacles in the way of the accomplishment of hers. She had generously made the sacrifice of it: nevertheless from time to time she felt in her soul pressing solicitations. The good brother understood well the impulses of this heart, and he sometimes tried to moderate its beatings:

"Console yourself, my dear sister, he said: since we were made to live together, we will go and live together in heaven. - You must be patient while waiting for the moment when the good Lord, if he wants you exclusively to him, will make it easier for you to respond to his call. Perfection is no more in one place than in another, it is in correspondence to the grace of God, where he wants us." — Then the holy Missionary sought to cheer up his poor sister, and for that, the smallest thing was a precious opportunity. I received the little piece of cake with a joy of which nothing can give an idea; I recognized your heart there, my dear Mélanie. I keep this little piece of cake as a relic; from time to time I nibble it, and I find it very good. You didn't spare the butter or the sugar, and that's good: I had to pay you the compliment. I accompany each small feast with a song of a few verses of the hymns you sent me. I'll go singing these songs all my life, wherever I am; they will remind me of what I hold most dear on earth, what I hold dearest in heaven; they will serve as my passport for eternity.

When will I be able to unite my joyful songs with your sacred canticles, O Sion! Celebrate under your happy porticoes The sweet name of the Queen of Heaven?

But if Theophane's letters demanded a necessary and always painful delay for Melanie's projects, they also had the word of consolation and

hope: Do not be discouraged, my dear sister. And then, your humble and hidden life in the family is as meritorious as the most brilliant lives, and it is safer.

However, if Mélanie had to wait several more years, she could, at least, fulfill some of her desires by committing herself to the service of Jesus Christ under the banner of virginity while remaining in the world: that is what she thought of doing so, but not without consulting her holy friend of the Foreign Missions, who had her full confidence. Here is his response:

"My very dear Mélanie. — Your last letter filled me with joy, for it showed me how much you are eager to advance in perfection, and how much Our Lord Jesus Christ favors you with his most I bless him for it every day, and I ask him to enlighten you with an even brighter and purer light, to strengthen you with his almighty help, to guide you on the road to your homeland, to inspire you with the spirit of humility, brother of the spirit of purity, to pour on you all the gifts of his grace: and the gift of Wisdom which makes God taste and his indescribable sweetness, and the gift of Intelligence whose eye is so penetrating, and the gift of Counsel which arms with prudence, and the gift of Strength which fights for our weakness, and the gift of Science which teaches our ignorance, and the gift of Piety which gives pure love , and the gift of Fear which watches over the entrance of our soul. I unite my prayers to yours, and I have had your recommendation placed at the feet of Notre-Dame-des-Vict. ears. Don't rush anything. You want to be obedient to the advice of your confessor, you are right, for obedience is a sure guide.

"You are very kind, my sister, to consult me, I who am only after you in the family, and I thank you very much for this attention of your friendship! Well! what answer to give you? You do not want that I say No, and I don't want to either. How would I advise you to stay united to the world that I hate like you and that I left? " Well, I know very well, your heart has long been also detached from this corrupt and corrupting world; but the act of renunciation, you have not signed it yet, and that is what remains for you to do. Who stops you then? Consult your courage, consult the voice of grace, consult the venerable souls who live with you every day; and if nothing opposes it, may your desires be accomplished; may the will of God be done: also celebrate your nuptials, give your heart and your life , put on the wedding dress, put a ring on your finger, take a new name, enter a new family. I greet you, Sister Marie (of the future Missionary), vir bride of Christ Jesus! Amen t

“Come the day when I will know that my beloved sister is part of the choir of Virgins of which Mary Immaculate is the Queen, and that other day when you will count your brother in the ranks of the apostles of which Mary is still the Queen! happily repeat: "Regina apostolorum, Regina virginum ! Yes, my brother's Queen, apostle of the faith, you will say; and I: Blessed Queen of my beloved sister, virgin spouse of Christ Jesus, pray for us!...

Want me to guess your new name? I'm racking my brains in vain, and I can't find any other to give you but mine; maybe it's the one you've already taken. Friendship has such bizarre ideas!....

Friendship indeed has ideas that are sometimes very bizarre: it loves above all to invent expedients, even the most impossible, to satisfy its tender impulses. We see it by this sentence of Theophane, which leads Melanie to suppose the emission of another idea of ​​this kind: Would you like to be a religious-missionary, my very affectionate sister? - I distrust your vocation, it seems to me that it mixes a little brotherly love.

However, the big day was approaching for Melanie; on the date of the fifteenth of July, 1852, his brother addressed a few sentences to him which, in our eyes, have only the defect of brevity. He had received more cake for Saint-Jean, his father's feast: I ate some cake, wicked and mocking sister, and I found it good; however, it was too salty, which is always the main fault in your cooking. Well! be the salt of the earth! so many souls allow it to fade and evaporate... Ah! Didn't you expect this moral?

You have to be a sister like you to remember the way I was placed, the surplice on my arm, after the farewell mass. My crazy sister, you love me too much; it was perhaps to punish you that the good Lord told me to go away.

I congratulate you, Mélanie, on separating yourself from the world, although in the middle of the world: it's the right thing to do. God is preparing a great grace for you, receive it in all gratitude and humility; tell me the big day. Come on, farewell, Sister Marie-Théophane, don't fail to be gentle."

Finally, the good Sister having made her consecration to the Lord, the Missionary, on a hastily written note, says again these words with which we want to close this magnificent series of advice, and which shows the pious people of the world how to first of all, before doing additional works, fulfill your duties each in his position: I congratulate you, — but remember that your first duty is in the family, for the family. — Then he ends: "Gentleness and humility, and joy in the holy Hearts of Jesus and Mary!"

However, the moment was approaching when the Abbé Vénard was to receive the anointing of the priesthood; and as the dawn of the great day appeared to his eyes in a not so distant future, his soul redoubled still more in piety and fervor. Moreover, these lively impulses towards the summit of perfection seemed easy and natural to him in this sanctuary of blessing, where each step awakens such beautiful memories, where, every day of life, these moving spectacles are renewed. , by striking the senses, also penetrate to the intimacy of the soul! Presently we will speak of the farewell ceremony; now let us say just a word about the oratory of the Blessed Virgin and the hall of the Martyrs, and for that let us always borrow the very words of the future Missionary: "I especially want to speak to you, my dear sister, about a little oratory in day, arranged in a cradle and consecrated to the Blessed Virgin, at one of the corners of the garden. The statue of our Mother is at the back; below are several tiers intended to receive torches and flowers. We are meeting in this place every Saturday evening and on the eve of the holidays, after our supper. The torches are lit, besides, on the eves of the holidays, a beautiful chandelier is discovered which hangs from the top of the cradle and is loaded with candles. Here then is an illumination at the middle of the grove and at nightfall, then a voice addresses to Mary in Latin the invocations written above the different entrances to the oratory: Cause of our joy, Queen of Martyrs, Queen of Confessors, Queen of Apostles , O Queen conceived without sin, Mary, Star of the seas! And all the aspirants respond singing: Ora pro nobis; we recite Pater, Ave, Memorare, Sub tuum, and a few hymns or antiphons to the Blessed Virgin or a canticle are sung. Recreation followed, then prayer at nine o'clock. But, on leaving the Chapel to return to his cell, no one forgets to visit the venerated remains of those of whom we have sung Marie Reine. Around a room whose parquet floor is covered with a large and beautiful carpet, whose walls are strewn with stars and golden palms, are arranged in order the numerous reliquaries which contain the remains of the Martyrs of China and of the Tong-King, some Missionaries, others natives, who were able to be rescued from the persecutors. Everyone kneels, prays and retires silently kissing a crucifix stained with the blood of Bishop Borie.

The Hall of Martyrs does not only contain reliquaries and bones. One still sees there, says M. Eugène Veuillot, cangues, ropes, chains, rattans, and beside these instruments of torture clothes stained with blood and pictures. These pictures without perspective, hastily painted by inexperienced hands, do not even indicate the infancy of the art; but they recall the martyrdom, or rather the triumph, of various French and native Missionaries; these are historical testimonies. Despite the absence of art, these paintings make one shudder: we see the executioners licking their blood-stained sabers with ferocious and bestial joy, and it is there, in the presence of these august and terrible teachings, that the future Missionaries feel growing the holy love of apostolic combats.

At the sight of these glorious remains which speak so strongly to the hearts of even the most indifferent who visit them, the enthusiasm of our Théophane, we think, must have been very great. Writing to a relative, he finds the opportunity to slip in these few sentences, the expression of which he still tries to soften: The mission of the Tong-King is now the envied Mission, since it offers the shortest means to go to Heaven.... But I dare not dwell too much on these things whose description made you shudder, if I remember correctly, when I spoke to you about them in person. Do not be afraid, my dear aunt: God, who called me, will support me on occasion and, if necessary, will make me worthy of my predecessors.

Similarly, the ardent Missionary, after having told his sister of the martyrdom of Mr. Schoeffler at the Tong-King, could not help exclaiming in spite of himself: "O my good sister, if one day I too should to be called upon to bear witness to the faith with my blood!" "I don't think that prospect frightens you, and if I speak to you in this way, it is because I presume your generosity. , I always need your prayers, and I count on it."

Evidently, the virtuous Theophanes was led in this way of apostolate and martyrdom by divine grace; no doubt, nature and his simple tastes kept him strongly attached to the soil and to the family, but each day grace worked inwardly to separate him from them more and more until the moment which was to be the last on earth of the homeland. From then on, says a modern writer, he aspires to that life of immolation for God, the joys of which his soul divined; he tastes it in advance; he wants to satisfy himself with it, and the world has no chains of flowers beautiful enough to prevent him from running to these noble irons. This is what we can easily conclude from this fragment of a letter to Bishop de Poitiers:

"Formerly, Monsignor, I rejoiced in the hope of receiving from the hands of Your Lordship the complement of graces which the good God has already bestowed on me through them. Divine Providence disposed of my hopes by disposing of my future. Monseigneur , I regret my hopes, but I fix the future with the same eye as in the past. Yes, I admit it, Monsignor, I detach myself from France every day, even when France says for me Poitiers, and my tastes become decidedly more and more Chinese. I don't know what irresistible impulse makes me sympathize with these peoples from another heaven, Indians or Chinese; however, some of my colleagues want my physiognomy to have Chinese tendencies. They give me a Chinese head, Chinese eyes, Chinese poses, finally I am all Chinese. I do not disdain China, but I do not choose it. I have no choice but the will of my superiors, if I'm judged good for anything. I will always find myself too happy in the place where the divine Master will deign to allow me to work for the salvation of my brothers and the glory of his name. "

However, the Superiors of Paris had perfectly recognized the virtues of the young aspirant to the Missions, through the veil of humility under which they were hidden: this is why they hastened the moment of his definitive consecration, and in spite of his not very advanced age (he was twenty-two and a half years old), they called him to the ordination of the Trinity. At this news, two opposite feelings also took place in the heart of the future priest, fear and joy; and if he writes immediately to his family, he can say only this word: I will be a priest in the Trinity! Oh my God ! I don't have the strength to have a thought; I don't know if I should sing or moan.

A few days later, Bishop Pie also received a letter giving him notice of this upcoming event:

“Monseigneur, They have no flavor, these fruits which precede the ordinary time of maturity. I am a young fruit and still green, and yet I should be ripe in a month. In truth, Monseigneur, despite the beautiful May sun, isn't it too early?...

"I did not expect to be called to the priesthood before Christmas; but it seems to me that the good Master has pity on my youth and wants to rejoice it now. Yes, I am telling the truth, I am under no illusion: Introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum qui loetificat juventutem meam. Then, perhaps, the day will soon come when another word will be spoken to me, the thought of which already stirs me strongly: We must pack up and leave.

"When I withdraw into myself, when I see those almost childish hands that the holy oil will consecrate, those feet that would not yet disdain the college games and that will carry the Gospel of truth and peace, all my to be finally who is only trying life and must teach men how to live, I cannot help laughing, a laugh of compassion at first, and then, I will not hide it, a laugh of happiness, because all the feelings crowd into me.

“I hope in Our Lord, who will elevate and enlighten me, and give me strength, gentleness, humility, prudence, science and charity. of his children, and will not refuse to pour on my poverty some of the graces that your prayers, Monsignor, will obtain for him.

Please accept..."

However, the Lord still wanted from his future minister a new kind of preparation, by keeping him for three weeks on a bed of pains, in order to completely purify his soul. During the whole duration of this ordeal, we have since been told, the patient was of an incomparable gaiety which was equaled only by his patience; it was a real pleasure for his colleagues to give him care. From the beginning of the convalescence, as the ordination was near, the future priest wrote:

"So I have a brand new body, and it is a good thing for which I thank divine Providence; since I have to go to a country that is also brand new for me, we will agree together. It would be good if I also made myself a a new mind and heart, that I may become a new man. Pray that I may be transformed on the day of ordination, that the young man almost a child may be ripened like a summer fruit, with the flavor and the fragrance, and like a long-prepared winter fruit, with a ripeness that lasts."

The convalescent was just strong enough to attend the ordination on June XNUMX and say his first Mass the next day. — On Trinity Day, the young priest hastened to greet his friends:

“I send you my blessing; I said my first mass this morning! My God, what a beautiful day! who have made me a new man. But I enjoy a great peace, I am happy. The happier I would be with you, you would share in my joy which would be a joy

family ... finally, God did not allow it! Let's be strong with the thoughts of faith and hope. Let us pray together. "

The future Missionary was a priest. His departure could not be long awaited; the news was given to him three days after the ordination. Immediately, he warned his family, saying that his destination was not fixed, nor the final day of farewell, but that he had to be ready; for the rest, he would be warned a month in advance, and he would add: Friends, courage, faith. God watches over us. The Blessed Virgin protects us."

However, the now approaching time of his departure, although he made every effort to give courage to others, did not fail to strongly sensitize his own heart and very often refer his spirit to those he loved: J 'I envy the happiness of those sweet evenings which you describe to me,' he said to his sister; you, on your side, envy my good share: from which I conclude that the good God is well named, he who makes us happy despite our sacrifices, or rather who makes our sacrifices a source of happiness. What will be the peace of Heaven?..... Oh! like there we will be happy!!! "I see the holidays coming," he wrote again to his brother Henri; Eusebius, already grown up, arrive very happy: you will embrace each other, you will laugh with all your heart..., . Ah! in your meetings, think sometimes of the elder brother. Know that from time to time it gives a tear to these beautiful days... Do you remember the banks of the Thouet, the hillside of Bel-Air, these nocturnal fishings, the song of the owl, the gaudrioles which brightened up the dark night?..".

The good Theophanes, so faithful in his memories, did not forget, this year again, the feast of his beloved father on the twenty-fourth of June. I thank divine Providence, he said, which allows me again this year to join my sister and my brothers, to offer you our tribute of filial love. See how pretty our bouquet is! Mélanie and Henri give the always beautiful flowers of the native country; our little Benjamin sends those he cultivated and brought to bloom in his retirement, flowers of wisdom, of piety, of work, all that is rarest in a schoolboy's garden; I send Parisian flowers, it's not up to me to praise their brilliance and perfume. Next year, perhaps, I will send some who will be able to give a compliment in Chinese they will be of interest to them. For the moment therefore from the depths of the capital of great renown, leaving all its noise, its luxury and its riches, I collect myself in the thought of your memory which is worth more than all that, and I write it down on paper and I sends it to you filled with caresses, kisses and the happiest and most worthy wishes that your most respectful and loving son can imagine..."

The two friends of Theophanes of whom we spoke in the preceding chapter, MM. Dallet and Theurel had also been ordained priests on Saturday, June XNUMX, eve of Trinity. Shortly after, M. l'abbé Theurel received his destination for the Tong-King; he was to leave sometime in September. M. l'abbé Dallet, destined for the Indies, embarked in the middle of August, and thus the void was gradually created in these hearts bound so intimately by friendship. Before leaving, the holy Missionary of India wrote to M. Vénard senior: I am happy to be your son's friend, and I thank God for having procured me this friendship. We are of the same age, we were made deacons and priests together; tomorrow we part forever, because I leave first, but I will remember her, and we will meet again in heaven.

For his part, our dear Missionary, the day after his colleague's departure, found the opportunity to write: "We were bound together, but what lasting bond here below?... Yesterday morning I took him to the car, very sad, sad to lose him, sad not to go with him! " But the ardent apostle did not have to wait long: a letter dated September XNUMX announces to his family the sudden news of a hasty departure:

My dear father, my dear Mélanie, my dear

brothers Henri and Eusèbe,

“Again let us say together: God be blessed! — About a month ago, five of my colleagues were warned to be ready to leave: I was left so that I had time to complete the full recovery of my health; besides, my destination, more or less fixed, did not take me with them. How I wept then!... But I am cutting short, time is pressing me.

“Here is one of the five, who has returned to his family on business, does not appear on the day designated by him, and the departure is approaching. I have been named his replacement. I am therefore leaving, my beloved, I I will leave you, bid you farewell forever until we reunite in the homeland of heaven!

I won't end the week in Paris: Friday will probably be my last day on French soil; we embark in Antwerp..."

September nineteen was the day of departure; From the morning of that day the new Missionary sent to each of the members of his family a special word of farewell:

"My dear and beloved father. — Today I leave France, today the last farewells, I leave at seven o'clock in the evening. Monday I embark in Antwerp; Tuesday morning we set sail — Let's go , father, farewell!...

" My departure makes you suffer; Yes, the separation is hard, I also feel it. But courage! the life of the earth is going away quickly, death will soon come to reunite us: because the death of the Christian is his life , his blessed life in the bosom of God, with the angels and the elect. So goodbye, my father: the road is not long. Adieu! adieu!!... I embrace you most affectionately.

Farewell, my dear Melanie. "I am very sorry not to be able to send you a long letter!" Oh! we would have so many things to say to each other, however!. I will remember our childhood years, our celebrations and family joys: this memory will charm my loneliness; afterwards, the meeting will take place. I leave, my heart very oppressed and my eyes full of tears. Let us pray together for each other. Farewell ! farewell ! I embrace you with tenderness.

"Adieu, my good Henri. — Adieu, brother. How happy your letter was! Oh! no! I do not have a heart of stone! My poor heart, on the contrary, is melted like wax... But we will meet again. I am going to make known our Father who is in heaven to our brothers who do not know him, and I will be there perhaps before the others. " Pray for me, prayer softens the bitterness of pain. And I, could I forget you? "Farewell! courage in life! Farewell! I embrace you with love."

"Farewell, my good Eusebius. — We are parting, my dear Eusebius, but let our thoughts unite more and more with our prayers. We must all walk straight to heaven. — Blessed are the first to arrive! My colleagues and I let us leave under good auspices: yesterday we learned of a new martyr at the Tong-King. Adieu! adieu!! I embrace you, brother, with love."

Before the departure of the Missionaries, there took place, according to custom, the traditional scene which is called the Farewell Ceremony, and which, each time it is repeated, always attracts a crowd of people of all conditions to the church. Foreign Missions. All these ceremonies are more or less alike; the reader will be grateful to us for making him attend one of these moving spectacles.

The ceremony takes place the day before departure, after the evening prayer. The next day's travelers are ushered into the chapel. They kneel on the steps of the altar, at the foot of the tabernacle. Behind them line up their brothers and all the Directors of the house, then the friends they once had in the world and who have come to see them one last time. We see soldiers, servants, working people, Brothers of Christian Doctrine, priests, men of high society. We see their parents there... and sometimes their fathers... The evening prayer, the same as we usually say, is first recited; the silence that reigns during this prayer seizes the soul: it seems that one is already under the influence of the void that will have been created in a few hours by the departure of the young missionaries.

After the prayer, a subject of meditation is read which all the seminarians must do the next morning and which the pilgrims must take with them. The reading finished, all the assistants sit down; only the departing missionaries remain standing at the foot of the altar. However, one of the directors of the house, a former missionary himself, addresses them in the name of all. The speech, which naturally varies in its form, according to the orator, always contains in substance the same ideas which would certainly be very capable of retaining those whom a passing enthusiasm had captivated at first; but for those whom God truly calls, all these reflections only excite their ardor.

Immediately after the allocution, the new apostles cross the steps of the sanctuary, and there, standing two steps from the tabernacle, they turn to their brethren. At this moment, these come out of their places, and after them all the assistants; they come to kiss on their knees these happy feet of the Lord's messengers, while the choir sings these beautiful words, which belong both to the old law and to the new law, and which the Holy Spirit seems to have inspired for this ceremony: “How beautiful and worthy of our veneration are the feet of these Angels of the earth, who will carry the good news of salvation far and wide! So, an episode like the one told by an eminent Catholic writer, in pages inspired by this subject, sometimes adds to this already overabundant emotion:

"I attended one evening, a few years ago, at such a ceremony. It was, I remember, in the middle of the carnival. That evening, they were seven who had to leave, and the clamors of the street added, if it is possible, to the feeling of veneration with which our lips rested on these feet, where the mud was going to become an adornment more brilliant and more precious than gold. advanced, walking with difficulty; one of the superiors of the Community was supporting him. An indescribable emotion, which the young Missionaries did not escape, ran throughout the chapel and made the voices weaken. It was a kind of anxiety which everyone felt, although everyone did not know the cause. The old man advanced slowly. Arrived at the altar, he kissed the feet of the first four missionaries in succession; the fifth, as if by an instinctive movement, bowed, stretching out his hands to keep him from kneeling before him. Then the old man knelt down, or rather prostrated himself; he impressed his lips on the feet of the young man who was growing pale; he pressed his forehead and his white hair to it; and finally he let out a sigh, a single one, but which resounds in all hearts, and which I never remember without feeling myself turn pale, just as I saw his son turn pale at this moment. And this son was the second that this sacrificed Abraham thus gave to God; and he had no other left... — They helped the old man to retire, he kissed the feet of the two Missionaries who were following his dear child, and he returned to his place. The choir, interrupted for a moment, was singing Laudate, pueri, Dominum."

As soon as their brothers have placed the kiss of their veneration at their feet, the Missionaries lift them up, and in turn place the kiss of their friendship on their foreheads. Then at the end of the ceremony, a song, no less appropriate than the previous ones, is sung by the choir.

It is the Song of Departure, whose author, M. Dallet, is already well known to us. Here it is in full:

SONG FOR THE DEPARTURE OF THE MISSIONARIES.

Go, heralds of the good news. Here is the day called by your wishes. Nothing henceforth enchains your zeal: Go away, friends; how happy you are! Oh ! How beautiful are your feet, Missionaries! We kiss them with holy transport: Oh! How beautiful they are in those distant lands Where error and death reign!

Chorus:

Go, friends; farewell for this life; Carry away the name of our God; We will meet again one day in the homeland: Farewell! brothers, farewell! !

The music for this song, as well as the accompaniment for organ or piano, were composed by Ch. Gounod, whose name is famous among artists.

May a happy breath swell your veil! Friends, fly on the wings of the winds; Do not be afraid: Mary is your star: She will know how to watch over her children. Respect, O sea! their sublime mission; Keep them well; be safe for them; And under these feet that such a beautiful zeal animates, Of your waves lowers the pride.

Hasten your steps towards these immense peoples; They are plunged into a cold night, Without truth, without God, without hopes; Unfortunate! hell swallows them up. Soldier of Christ, submit the earth to him; Let all places hear your voice; Carry everywhere the divine light, Everywhere the standard of the Cross.

Hasten in the holy career; Give God your sorrows, your sweats; You will suffer, and your whole life Will be spent in hard labor. Perhaps also all the blood of your veins Will be shed; your feet, these so beautiful feet, Perhaps one day will be loaded with chains, And your bodies delivered to the executioners!!

Depart, depart, for your brothers are succumbing; Time and death have decimated their ranks; Shouldn't we replace those who fall under the knife of fierce tyrants? Happy friends, share their victory; Always follow in their footsteps. God calls you, and from the bosom of glory Our martyrs stretch out their arms to you.

Be filled with apostolic zeal; Poverty, work, fighting, Death: this is the magnificent future That our God reserves for his soldiers. But among us there is no cowardly heart; At his call we will all obey; We will brave the cangue and the axe; Yes, if we must die, we will die.

Soon, soon we will run in your footsteps, Searching everywhere for a soul to convert; We will cross these immense spaces, And we will all go to preach and die. Oh ! the beautiful day, when the king of the Apostles Will come to fulfill the desire of our hearts, To reward your labors and ours, And to proclaim us all victors!

When you leave us, you remain our brothers: Think of us, before God, every day; Let us remain united in holy prayers, Let us remain united in his divine love. O God Jesus! our King! our Master, Protect us, watch over our fate; To you our hearts, our blood, our whole being: To you, to life, to death.

Chorus:

Go, friends; farewell for this life; Carry away the name of your God, We will meet again one day in the fatherland. Farewell, brothers, farewell!!

Chapter Seven

Boarding in Antwerp. — we put in at Plymouth. — Crossing over the Phylotaxe. — Singapore. — Interesting dissertation on linguistics.

Our travelers leaving Paris had a heavy heart to leave the Seminary: because, for me, says Theophane, "I had become fond of it like a second family"; and then, he adds, "your memory was present; each of the objects that I saw also said goodbye; I suffered greatly in my whole being." - However, the good Lord arranged for them at this very moment a very sweet consolation, that of being alone together all together in the same wagon, so that they could mutually comfort each other, cheer each other up, and above all sing and pray as they pleased. . "Soon," said Theophane again, "I was therefore joyful and laughing as when one goes to a party; I believe that the good Lord wanted, by pouring a little gaiety into my soul, to soften the bitterness of separation."

Only a few hours after the departure, the Missionaries had arrived in Antwerp where the ship Phylotaxe (friend of the order) was waiting for them, a pretty American kipper of 600 tons, a fine sailboat and almost brand new. As they had to remain two or three days in this city to await the final preparations for the journey, they had the leisure to study a little the Belgian people, whose simplicity, good nature and religious spirit they admired. Embarkation took place on the twenty-third of September. —

“As it left, writes Theophanes, the ship bade farewell to the city of Antwerp with nine cannon shots; the citadel answered; all of Europe." "I am a bit of a dreamer; if the good Lord did not help me, my beloved, my heart would perhaps fail me. You were the half of my life, and I feel the separation keenly. At least you are fixed, anchored in my memory, and this presence, although imperfect, of my friends with me, will always delight me." "We spent two nights on board the ship: how beautiful the evenings are on the water! what would it be on the open sea? The moon sheds an immense jet of its soft light on the waves, the wave murmurs and we murmur with it some song of the fatherland, while smoking the cigar. For henceforth tobacco must be a part of our life, and to get acquainted with him, we try ourselves on light cigars twelve years old; we have towish: an excellent gentleman from Antwerp demanded that we accept a thousand for the crossing.

I sleep in my little nest like a bird, without any worries. My health is perfect: I hope not to be seasick; I will find out tonight if I was right to hope, because the wind is good, and despite the rising tide, the Phylotaxe is sailing wonderfully. Her crew is model; obedience is perfect; the captain is loved like a father. Despite the dispensation, we go lean on Fridays: this is the custom of the Belgians. The captain never forgets the prayer before and after the meal, and the officers imitate him. I was able to see how hard the job of a sailor is; nevertheless it has its charms. I like to hear the song that accompanies the maneuver, in order to perform it in rhythm and with less fatigue; I admire how our sailors climb along the ropes, swing on the yards with no other support than a simple rope, and hoist themselves to the top of the masts, the highest of which on our ship is a hundred feet above deck only. I especially like to dream in front of the immense expanse of water that unfolds before my eyes. The two banks of the river still appear to me. I say goodbye to each village, to each steeple. Soon we will only see the sky and the sea. So farewell until several months.

This was not the last farewell: the next day, there was an opportunity for the Missionary to say hello to his family again and give them a simple health report written hastily and in pencil. This post was worded as follows:

“Sunday. 26.

By a fishing boat, seven leagues from Calais,

My dear friends, Hello! I'm fine, but I feel a little seasick Pray for us. Joy is aboard the Phylotaxe. Hello, my father, ; hello, Melanie; hello, Henry; hello, Eusebius; hello, friends - France, Farewell!

According to common opinion and in all probability, this farewell was to be the last to come from Europe; but Providence spared the Missionary and his family a final consolation. Following a storm which the travelers soon had to weather, they had to put in at Plymouth, the war port of the British power. From there, during a stay which lasted three times twenty-four hours, Theophane still had time to greet her relatives and friends at her ease. Then coming to talk about the sea, he said to his brother Henri, about the storm: "Little by little the wind became violent and the sea agitated. The ship rose and fell the waves, as one goes up and down a The exercise goes well for a few moments, but in the long run it tires, the head spins, the stomach becomes confused and gives back to the sea what it took at the table, and there is no need to ask for anything. what a right... The sailors call that counting his shirts, and they have a lot of fun with it. If I lay down in my hammock, the nausea still dogged me; I would have almost passed away. Today, the fifth day of the storm, I am cured. We were in no danger: it was only "a game, a habit. However our mizzenmast has fatigued a little, and our captain thought it prudent to put up at Plymouth to shore it up, and I rejoice at the opportunity afforded meto greet friends.

"This evening, I was able to admire a beautiful sunset over England, while the moon, borrowing its purple reflections, rose from above France. I began to meditate on this England for which the sun of truth slept so long: I prayed for her heartily. England would do so much for the good cause, if the good cause were hers! She rules the seas, and she only sows error."

In the same letter, the Missionary, speaking of Plymouth, gives his father, on the English, some rather piquant appreciations which we are going to reproduce: "It is a long time since the English people saw the cassock of the Priest; all those who saw us pass looked at us in amazement: men, women, children formed a procession behind us, there were even small children who fled in fear; a man pushed his curiosity so far as to come and touch the cassock of one of us and to examine its many buttons. We heard them laughing heartily, which made us laugh too; if we had entered the town, we would doubtless have been able to get out of it. The Englishman is very curious, and in a not very witty way.One of our colleagues, a year ago, sailed from London: the children were running after him: on this point, English and Chinese are alike.

From Plymouth, Theophane also wrote to his sister:

“My Sister, Hail, peace and love in Our Lord Jesus Christ!

Providence wants me to spend a few days at Plymouth, the war port of the British power, to wait for our ship, tired from the storm which surprised us at the beginning of our navigation, to put itself in a condition to continue it happily. Everyone will say that this is the only reason for our stay in this city; I don't believe it. Isn't it rather so that I can say goodbye to my good friends at ease? I was obliged to leave like an improvised courier, without greeting anyone; at least we say goodbye, good luck and bon voyage. Isn't it, my dear Melanie?

"When, in the past, when my holidays were over, I had to go back to college, we took the longest way to get to the door, and we only went there as slowly as possible, chatting a lot. I could not have the last word, nor you either: we have so many things to say when we part! Today I'm leaving, and I'm sure never to come back; my sister, let's talk a bit." "Ah! let me be the only one to speak! You are not here to answer me; your eyes do not look at me; your hand does not take my hand as if to hold me back for a few more minutes. And our father, our good father, and Henri , and Eusebius: where are they? Ah! they are all reunited, and I am alone, alone with you, my God, all alone henceforth.... — But their thoughts have followed me, their memory remains in me. , and mine with them; and then my letter will knock on the door of the house where they live, and she will have good hospitality. Ah, how childish I am, Melanie!..." "My God, you know it well, it is not bad to love one's father, one's sister, one's brothers, to suffer from their separation, to console one another, to mingle our tears, and also our hopes; because we leave each other for you, we want to work for you, and we hope to be reunited with you and in you forever!

As you see, my sister, I abandon myself, my heart pours out.... do you understand me? But the moments are numbered, let's reason our business. “Sister, it's all over, isn't it? An enormous distance separates us; we will never see each other again on earth. Well! what does it matter, after all? A little sooner, a little later, we will meet again in heaven. Our fathers, our mothers, our brothers and sisters, the Saints, left before us! Bye ! did they say...; it is up to us to join them. Let's see, as quickly as possible: I'm going this way, you're going there; the earlier arrived will encourage the other...

"Mélanie, you will help our father to pass from this world to God, and will comfort the last days of his life on earth. Make a pact for good with Henri and Eusebius. tenderest fraternal love: three reeds are stronger than one If the future does not separate you on the way, I beseech you on your knees, walk abreast arm in arm; if one, if all separate , brethren, may our memories be undivided. Love never breaks: it expands and unfolds, and does not weary; neither does love die, since it is stronger than death. God the said. Love has its strength in prayer and grows by it; we are small and weak, let us support ourselves to him whose name is Strong and Mighty; his arms are extended towards us: let us lift up ours.

"Our existence has very bitter days, full of fatigue and weariness; no doubt we only exist halfway. an ocean, an immensity; in it abundance and plenitude; patience, courage: we will soon be there, he has promised it. — When the stream is dried up, the sky pours rain, and the stream resumes its course; when our life is uneasy, let us ask for dew, refreshment, rain, food. Our Father in heaven knows that we have our needs, and his ministers are commanded to supply them.

So, it's understood: that everyone helps each other, strengthens each other, says good words, takes momentum with the others. Short is the road... Farewell!

My sister, you see, my feelings collide and rush together; but you will guess things half said and you will make them understood. I'm talking to you, then I'm talking to everyone, as you can see. There is confusion, you will sort it out.

My dear Mélanie, when, assisting at the Holy Sacrifice, you hear the Priest sing Sursum corda, hearts up! think that it is I who speak to you, whom I invite in the name of the Lord. Up our hearts! Always ! Let's go up, let's go up with wings, like passing birds. Here is the sky reached.

“Hearts up high and spade in hand! We have to work, we have our task; be patient, be gentle, be loving. I am also going to my construction site: pray for your brother so that he becomes patient like you, gentle, humble, loving. Pray for those with whom I will be; pray for families and peoples. Say your universal prayer; this is the fraternity and the communion of the Saints.

“From time to time you will take the pen and run it over the paper to my loneliness; you will ask the friends of the family and outside to be part of it.

What sweet surprises! how happy I will be!

I will also send my couriers dressed in Chinese clothes to make you laugh: cheerfulness uplifts the heart and animates life.

"I do not want to continue, my dear sister: there is an end to everything, consequently to three little pages of a letter. — I put my heart on your heart and my hand in your hand. Farewell! do you hear well? A Dieu !

From Plymouth Theophanes also wrote to his younger brother! to give him some more advice. Here is what; way he began his letter: it sounds like a psalmist's song or an inspiration from Saint Paul:

Bless the Lord, rain, winds and storms that have banished me to Plymouth harbour, to say another word to my Eusebius. —Then he continues: Well! brother, the farewell is said; our life will not pass on the same corner of the earth, unless you also have Chinese tastes. I turn my back on you, but not my heart, of course; our thoughts will always remain united with our prayers and our work.

You're going back to college: work, time is precious beyond anything you can imagine. Learn everything you will be able to learn, languages ​​in particular; for peoples are fraternizing and merging today, and it must be for the triumph of truth. Bring your cooperation.

I leave you in the custody of your good Angel. May he protect your youth, your adolescence, your whole life.

Dear brother, I will see you again in heaven! I give you as motto, as well as Mélanie, Sursum corda, up hearts! "May the good Lord heal you completely!" — Patience, peace and joy in life.

Farewell, brother, farewell! !

This letter and the preceding ones were dated the seventh of October: two days afterwards the travelers left the port of Plymouth, and no news was received from them until the month of April following, when a letter dated Singapore, in February.

There is the long and detailed account of the whole crossing; we will not undertake to give it in its entirety, because apart from the fact that it would be tiring for the reader, a large number of stories are retellings of all the long-distance journeys, which are more or less alike. We will only give a few excerpts, taken from the most interesting, leaving aside everything that is found elsewhere in the stories of maritime voyages and in books about the sea.

"Between the islands of Saint-Paul and Amsterdam!" on the 77th of eastern longitude.

"Sea of ​​the Indies, the 1^er January 1853.

Happy New Year to my father, Mélanie, Henri, Eusèbe and friends. — Peace and joy to my beloved in the Lord!

Soon will approach the port. So I prepare my letters in advance, and I'm happy to start the first day of a new year. This morning, my second thought, the first being for God by right, was for you, dear friends. I greeted each of you, to each I said my compliment, in the same way as if I had found myself when you woke up. Ah! what a beautiful faculty memory is, and what happiness there is in the remembrance of friends whom one has left!

It was on the tenth of October, a Sunday evening, that we left the harbor of Plymouth. There was another Belgian ship, the Atalante, anchored in the same harbor and loaded with 160 gold-digging passengers. Poor goal than theirs! My very dear ones, believe it, I would not have abandoned you for all the gold of Australia as well as of California.

The ship Phylotaxe is a fine sailboat, it spins on the waves like a swallow; it surpasses all its competitors; and if he had the winds at will, the crossings would be rapid; but the winds are inconstant and capricious. Often calms, the sails beat along the yards, the flag-weathervane is inanimate: desolation of a captain! Ours is patient, he sometimes says good-naturedly: There can't always be good weather; — and again, if the breeze is contrary: The good Lord has so many people to please! each in turn. "Others would swear, storm: what's the point?" we have nothing but praise for the officers and all the crew who wanted to receive some little religious souvenir from us when we left the Phylotaxe. The good harmony which reigned constantly between us all greatly helped us to support the inconveniences inseparable from such a long navigation. Our captain showed us in him a man respectable in all respects by his already advanced age and by his many qualities, among which shine a perfectly sound judgment, a great equanimity of character and a sincere love of all that is good. In knowing him, I knew one more good man on earth; we had not been deceived at Antwerp, when they paid us the highest praise from Captain de Ruyter, who has a great reputation in that city.

The Missionary writes the same thing in other words to Fr. Dallet: The captain of the Phylotaxe is the dean of the captains of Antwerp, a worthy man in all respects, religious by the force of his nature and the solidity of his convictions. , speaking little and always

about, good as a mother, with the character of a perfect sailor. I don't remember ever hearing him speak or see him act in the slightest reprehensible way.

As has happened several times, especially on stormy days, on the nineteenth, we had the company of sea swallows; there were some on the ground. At nightfall, these rested on the ropes, and we took several of them, and we sang to them: Hirondelle gentile, and only to tell them:

"Do you come from the homeland Far away and dear,

Of the condemned? (Without taking for us...) "Tell me, beautiful companion, Are you from the mountain" Where was I born?

And we allowed them to fly away, for it is said at the end of the prisoner's ditty:

“There is in this life only one good worthy of envy: freedom!

“My colleagues and I liked to converse in the moonlight. We sometimes sang hymns.

"With transport the heavens proclaimed her Queen of heaven, of thrones, of virtues, etc.

was our favorite. Time is very long on a ship, the days are very monotonous. Work, study and prayer help us powerfully against boredom. We are playing checkers: we have not played so much in our lives; in truth, the shipowner, by giving us a checkerboard, has done us a great service. — The sea offers few distractions. When a legion of porpoises was once seen leaping over the waves and seeming to compete for the race with the ship, or else the bouites diving, or some voracious shark prowling hither and thither to seize a prey, we no longer want to see. One is soon tired also of examining the waves which collide and foam and roar. The double immensity of the waters and the sky offers an imposing and solemn aspect, no doubt; but I would find all that more beautiful if I had a stronger foot, especially if I saw him less often.

For a month and a half we had the consolation of Holy Mass every Sunday, then our altar bread spoiled. Oh ! How many times have I groaned at not being able to make a little visit to the Blessed Sacrament, to attend some ceremony of Catholic worship! When the body is deprived of nourishment, it languishes; the soul languishes in the same way, if it no longer has its bread of life which sustains it. She then thinks of heaven, life for her is truly a pilgrimage and an exile. You now understand why we loved so much to sing the canticle: With transport the heavens...., which is a sigh towards heaven of which Mary is the queen. I never tire of repeating:

"And I, my son, how could I live Far from these places where her court resides? To heaven, to heaven, I want, I must follow her!, .. love... Let's fly, let's fly, my soul, "Far from this mortal place; Take your wings of flame: "Let's follow Mary to heaven!

After your sweet Mother, Fly, my poor heart; and Far from her, on earth, Far from her is happiness!

It often happened to me to dream in front of the sea, leaning on the banister which borders the quarterdeck. But my great reverie took place on the twenty-first of November, a day known to you. I reviewed in myself my life from November twenty-first, 1829 to November twenty-first, 1852._, my birth to the life of nature and the life of grace, my first years on my grandfather's lap, in the arms of my good grandmother. I was deliciously moved by the memory of my sweet mother whom I knew so little here below. I thought of the sacrifice of my beloved father to make me educated, of joyful vacations, of family reunions, of Mélanie my good sister, of Henri and of Eusèbe with whom I had such pleasant parties, of my entrance to the Seminary, a house of peace where God spoke to my heart and invited me to go and announce his Gospel and his salvation to the peoples who ignore them. I remembered these last fifteen days spent in your company, my dear ones; of that family reunion at the altar of the Blessed Virgin, of the last supper, and then of the time which passed so quickly in Paris, of the ordination which began my priesthood, of the sudden news of my departure, and of this departure himself for the Missions. — Now here I am at sea, in the hands of Providence, admiring her merciful conduct towards me, blessing her for the past, hoping in her for the future. Father, in the letter you wrote to tell me that you accepted my departure, you invite me to trust, because, you say, the hand of God is everywhere! This will be the motto of my life. Yes, the hand of God is everywhere; she will be everywhere with me! Therefore, confidence, hope, and for you and for me!

Finally, after a few other details, the Missionary ends his long narrative thus: When we got to Singapore, we learned about the Empire without being surprised. God give peace to France and to the world! In these countries gold is the supreme god; one constantly discovers new gold mines, one finds there neither peace nor happiness. No, it is the God of charity, of fraternal union who gives it, he alone. Charity is pure gold, real gold, gold spent in the crucible. The rest is just counterfeit money.

From Singapore the Missionary once again addressed some advice to his younger brother. After having demonstrated at some length how advantageous the study of foreign languages ​​is, he adds: I left you Mr. L***'s book, I hesitated, here is why: this good gentleman has experienced many tribulations, and you know that suffering often irritates the character, which is why, in his book, instead of giving reasons with calm and placidity, instead of serving a strong and generous wine, he offers vinegar, and I would not like not for everyone in the world that you have a taste for acidity and bitterness; I'd rather see you prefer sugar or oil. So keep yourself informed, and, leaving aside the bitter herbs, know how to extract the good juice. Let this be said for Mr. L*** and for other men, whether it is a question of their persons or their works; a good spirit takes the good side of people and things, and leaves the bad.

To complete my explanation, I will show you a language to study, the most beautiful, the richest, the most philosophical, the most perfect that could have been invented. It speaks in two ways, in the calm and peace of pure hearts between God and his children, and on the lips of good people with their brothers. I advise you to study its grammar; the syntax consists of faith, humility, gentleness, charity. To own it well, you have to make versions and themes; the versions are drawn from the life of the Lord Jesus and the Saints; the themes will be good works. It seems that they compose together incessantly, and that one day there will be a superb distribution of prizes. Ah! brother, I am happy to see you crowned there; we must not aim only at runners-up, but at crowns and prizes. I will be proud, in this brilliant competition, to be your brother!

There was talk in my kind of dissertation about the spirit of wisdom. Now, I know someone who shared this spirit to a high degree; I am not talking about the great Master who, with much more reason than Saint Eloi, has written on his sign: Master over master and master over all. The sage I want to show you is only a copy of the perfect model, but I assure you, it is a beautiful copy. His life was written, and he himself composed rather voluminous works, especially that one never tires of reading. My brother Eusebius, you no doubt love what is friendliness, gentleness, suavity, nobility and greatness; even you do not disdain the delicate and fragrant flowers of a pure and wholly celestial poetry. Well ! you love Saint Francis de Sales; if you are a bee diligent and careful to collect the juice of the most odoriferous flowers, to compose the good honey of virtue, go to Saint Francis de Sales; a quest here and there for everything that comes from him or speaks of him: his Life, his Spirit, his Introduction to the Devout Life, his Letters, his Sublime Treatise on the Love of God. Read and reread, don't get tired, because that's the good vein, and stay there. Believe me, you hold the key to the science of life, and wisdom for all things and all occasions.

"My dear Eusebius, be very gentle and very humble. Besides the fact that you will form yourself in the great virtues (for humility is truly a great and heroic virtue, although it is small), you will also acquire a freedom and independence of heart Incredible, hence peace, the most perfect quietude: it is pride that gnaws and disturbs and makes life bitter.

“Besides, my dear brother, walk your merry way very slowly, day by day like the birds of the sky. not yet?Let yourself be carried away by the peaceful movement of grace, wanting to go only where she wants and precisely in the time she wants, like a boat that follows the current of the river, sometimes slow and sometimes rapid. Moreover, you will have superiors, and you will follow their advice. I tell you this because you have often shown me your tastes and your propensities. So what God wills, you will also want: concluded. Do you understand? "

The travelers were still in Singapore when several young Cochin-Chinese students sent to Pinang College by Bishop Gaultier arrived in that city; The sight of them made our Theophane's heart beat violently, it seemed that a whole revolution was taking place in his soul. Here is how he gives an account of this impression to Fr. Dallet:

"In the evening," he said, "these young people gathered to pray, and we put our ears to the crevices of the door to hear them. My friend, what a moment of delicious emotion for us! And then, what a sweet song! plaintive and pleading accent!.... And then, and then....

what else can I tell you? They were heroes we had beside us, who risked their lives just to get out of their country. They were sons, brothers of Martyrs. They came from the empire of Annam, from the land of the Martyrs! ! "

After three weeks in Singapore, M. Vénard and two of his colleagues left for Hong Kong; the other two remained, awaiting a favorable opportunity which would enable them to go each to his post. Before leaving this town which still reproduced something of the homeland, Théophane, whose heart was so rich in memories, recalled one of the sweetest times of his childhood life: the hillside of Bel-Air and its charms now immortal.

At the moment of his departure from Paris, he had received a letter from the pious girl who had been his formerly companion; not having had time to reply to her at that time, he wrote to her from Singapore these few simple words, but full of exquisite charity:

I like to see that you still remember our old friendship on the hillside, and the pleasant readings we did there together. I assure you that, for my part, I have remained faithful to this memory, and that I cannot think of this happy time of my youth without being moved. I carry all my friends in my heart, and their memory often brings tears to my eyes, not that I regret what I did, because it seems to me that I followed the impulse of the divine will, but because this separation from those who are so dear to me was not made without heartbreak, and every time the wound reopens, it bleeds.

You tell me that you have troubles: I believe it, and I take an interest in them, and I ask God to help you bear them. Ah! it must be confessed that our life on earth is a poor life, and that hardly any cloudless days pass. The pain is for everyone, it is everyone's daily bread. Happy the Christian who knows how to use those he finds on his way! he will be amply compensated for it later. Do you know that our miseries are good money to buy the glory of heaven; but the image of Our Lord Jesus Christ must be placed on this coin. On the five-franc pieces, we see the image of the kings who had them minted; and is it not just that on this species of money, which serves to acquire eternal happiness, one places the image of the Lord Jesus, the great King of Paradise? Courage then, courage! This King of paradise loves you and calls you: learn to know him, to love him and to follow him. When I see you again where we all hope to see each other again, you will be rich in glory, because you will have been rich in sorrows and merits!"

The Missionary also bade farewell to his family from Singapore, giving everyone a rendezvous in Hong Kong, where he hoped to find the letters from France. This voyage was accomplished on an English ship, and there was no remarkable incident in this crossing, except for a few traits of British originality, which it would perhaps not be charitable or in good taste to bring to light. day ; moreover, there was even a certain little party which gave the captain so much pleasure that he declared that he wanted to have the story put in the English papers after his return. But the crossing was longer than expected, because of the opposing monsoon, and at least the travelers experienced the inconvenience of boredom, especially since the port was only a short distance away. Also, as they cheerfully sang the Te Deum of thanksgiving by dismounting! Our Théophane said this to Bishop de Poitiers with this beautiful reflection: "I now understand what joy one feels at arriving at the port, and I feel better, by comparing experience, how desirable this port is where one approaches leaving the stormy sea of ​​the world, to rest in God!

Chapter eight

Theophane in Hong Kong. — his happiness in family memories and brotherly love. — obstacles which oppose the good in several missions. — what true friendship is and what it is worth. — advice on poetry. — Monsignor Guillemin. — relations with superiors.

Arrived at Hong-Kong, the Missionary did not find the letter which was to indicate his destination to him; He was at first somewhat grieved, but he consoled himself by thinking how heavy and formidable the burden of the apostolic ministry is. Athletes, he told his father, want to see their adversaries before fighting them: all the more reason can I do like them, I who am far from being an athlete.

Theophane had yet another disappointment here: it was about the letters from his family which had not arrived, and which were still missing for a few months. He wrote on this subject to M. Dallet, his friend from India: My beloved members of the family have sent me nothing, at least I have received nothing. Not a syllable, even from my sister, it's hard! God allows it so. Amen! — Then he adds:

“Seeing myself all alone in life, without knowing what life is, suspecting it nevertheless, discovering it almost every day, I experienced many sadnesses and disgust. Faith in Jesus Christ "He, the Master who sent us, supported and strengthened me. After the ordeal, my littleness rose up proud and full of energy. Long live God! He will be with me always! Long live Mary, our great queen and our a Loving Mother!A mother does not abandon her child.

“Ah!” he wrote to two of his old friends in Poitiers, “I often live with you, my dear ones: I often go to the places where I spent one of the most pleasant parts of my life with you. Poitiers above all cannot leave my memory: one passes such peaceful days there under the wing of Providence, in the company of such good colleagues, under the direction of such estimable Masters! of Zion. Here I am in Babylon, where three detestable queens reign, whom Saint John calls the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of the life. They are the queens of the world, but nowhere better than here : Super flumina Babylonis illic sedïmus ac flevimus, cum recordaremur Sion."

On the same subject he wrote again to his father: Oh! your letters do me good, you see, and I love them as one loves a gentle dew after a great heat, as one loves a verdant oasis in the desert. The Missionary lives in the desert, he almost always. When a memory of friends from France comes, how precious it is! how he is loved! I feel stronger when I have read some of your pages, for I am strengthened by all your sympathies. I see that I am not alone in my sacrifice, that others share it, that others live with me. Blessed be the Lord who placed the cradle of my life in the midst of you, my dear ones. I am a branch of a tree of which you form the beautiful branches; I didn't dry out when I left the trunk, I feed on the same sap that stood the test of the harshest climates. God is the same in China, in France; and what do we want other than God on earth, in the fatherland of Heaven!

The ease of communication between Hong Kong and France enabled Théophane to resume his frequent correspondence with his family friends for some time. His brother Eusebius, who was then doing his courses in humanities, wrote to him more often; there were quite long debates on brotherly friendship, and even sometimes, in these peaceful contests, the paper suffered from a few exchanges of points and sallies which Theophane called the salt of brotherly love. His heart had a real pleasure in these sweet talks, and therefore at certain moments the grace of consolation was so strong that it carried him to enthusiasm: it was then that he let out from his pen pages like the ones we are going to quote. It was shortly before his departure from Hong Kong, and therefore the love was growing stronger at the thought of another imminent separation. He writes :

Long live fraternal friendship and its sweet outpourings! How good it is to talk heart to heart several thousand leagues away! And how much I thank the Lord for having been able thus, for a whole year, almost every month, to enjoy these joys, so true, so pure, of friendship with my dear Eusebius, that is to say, with you, my -loved brother, and with all my friends! Yes, yes, it is a good thing, a delicious thing, that brothers live together in the same house! Isn't it, Brother Eusebius? — It is quite true that there is an immense distance between Theophanes and Eusebius; but it doesn't matter, it's that the house where they live is spacious; Eusebius is in one room, Theophanes in another, that's all. The earth is man's home, his place of passage in this life; there is only one family of which God is the reigning Father in Heaven. My dear Eusebius, let us be brothers in every way, make friendship on a grand scale, let us have a heart as wide as the world; children, let us imitate our Father, the great God who knows neither space nor time.

"Oh! see how many ways we are brothers, and of what an innumerable family we are the members!...But our fraternity extends to everything, from the infinitely small to the infinitely great. For our Father is he not the Creator and Father of all things? Thus all created things are of our kindred, and Saint Francis of Assisi said a true thing in calling the sheep his sister, the wolf his brother, and so for all — Here is another consideration... Listen... The good God who is our Father also wanted to be our Brother, and it is through Jesus and Mary, in Jesus and Mary, that this sublime marvel of our divine fraternity. Thus our fraternity is eternal and infinite: In Jesus and Mary, in God! My dear, I put my heart in yours, you put your heart in mine; we both put ourselves in the hearts of Jesus and Mary, and we are inseparable brothers, in life and in death, here below and in eternity. Amen! Amen!"

It is this fraternity so extended that there again, as when distancing himself from his family and leaving Paris, Théophane recommends to his brothers and his sister: For me, he said, I am wandering on the globe, I have traversed almost all the earth, having no country left but the hope of heaven. I haven't seen anything new, men are men everywhere. The first sight impresses, but it passes. I find the Chinese as beautiful as the Europeans, we are all children of Adam. What always remains beautiful, always new, is fraternal friendship, and I have planted it on my heart to remain there and to be constantly warmed there. Love each other well, be united. A single soul, a single desire, a single condescension. Farewell ! Live happily, live joyfully while waiting for the great joy of heaven. I place three kisses on my little letter, one for each. My sister Mélanie, my brother Henri, my brother Eusèbe, I carry you under the wing of Providence which takes care of the little birds. I repeat once again that I love you very much. Farewell !!! "

M. Vénard stayed fifteen months in Hong-Kong, still awaiting his destination: during this time he studied the Chinese language, for he presumed that he would be assigned to one of the provinces of the Empire; and besides, in all these countries of the Far East, it is the most widespread language. All speak the Mandarin dialect: it was therefore always useful for the Missionary to devote himself to this study, which offers truly incredible difficulties. He put all his heart and courage into it; but his health, weakened by the continual heat, did not allow him as much as he would have liked. In the most difficult cases, he consulted with his colleagues, and, by encouraging one another, they reciprocally enlightened each other. 'If it weren't so,' he said, 'I would be much less courageous, because in the long run this work is tiring. This study is arid for beginners, so arid that after a few days the mere sight of my book made my heart ache, and one of my colleagues is ill each time he sets to work. Really I would be tempted to believe that this language was invented by the devil, to make it more difficult for the Missionaries to study!

To distract themselves from such arduous work, and for health reasons, as well as to learn more about Chinese customs and character, the Missionaries from time to time took long walks on the seaside, or else climbed the numerous peaks which rise around the city. Théophane, with his observant eye and sound judgement, let nothing pass that he didn't profit from. He noticed the obstacles that hinder the work of the missions, and especially the spirit of pride and selfishness, just as he liked to see the good side of things; and if, in his letters, he made known in three words the basis of the Chinese character, cunning, hypocrisy, cowardice, he did not fail to say with the same impartiality: It is certain, however, that women could teach external modesty to women. European Christian women: their clothes are always perfectly decent.

But between all the obstacles which come against the good in the Missions where the Europeans are free, the clairvoyant Missionary did not distinguish more.

greater than the bad example of Europeans themselves, and of Europeans in high places. He had noticed it on his arrival in Singapore: "As for the Europeans," he said, "they are spoiling the work of God." England, in these unhappy countries, in the first place, on the subject of its trade in opium, which he calls one of the most detestable and abominable crimes before God, to the point that sellers and buyers inspired him with a disgust "I would greatly appreciate," he said to his friend M. Dallet, "an association of prayers, to obtain from God the destruction of such an unworthy commerce, just as one does for great needs and against great ills.—He also said on this subject to his sister:

“Opium is a substance which is extracted from the poppy, and which is smoked like tobacco. The result of this fumigation is the destruction of physical and moral forces: it ends up stupefying those who use it in certain quantity. The Chinese are passionate about this opium, and the English have hastened to come and sell it to them; they get it from Hindustan. In spite of all the possible claims and all the treaties, the smuggling of opium is still going on, and one cannot say the enormous sums which the English withdraw from it: it is necessary to count by hundreds of millions of piastres, each year. This trade is an ignominy for England. Needless to say that the Missionaries forbid opium to the Christians: the devil could not invent anything worse to complete the perverting of China."

With regard to the English, the Missionary also speaks of Protestantism which serves them as a means of serving their selfishness: Many believe, and I believe with them, that English Protestantism is the hidden motive of all this confusion. (China was then in the throes of a revolution.) I find it very natural that Protestantism should come to agitate China, he who upset and still upsets Europe, he who is the soul of Freemasonry and of all secret societies, the igniter of revolutions. Does a child not take after his father? and he, son of the devil, he does the works of his father. Its medium is disorder and disturbance, both in minds and in hearts, both in individuals and in peoples. We can tell him what Our Lord said to the Jews: Your ex patre diabolo estis, et desideria patris vestri vultis facere.

On the subject of the Chinese insurrection and the vexations of all kinds that the nascent Christian communities had to undergo at the very gates of the cities where commerce and the authority of Europe dominate, Théophane is going to tell us his thoughts on the facts which were happening then and which were public

“China is at this moment in the most pitiful state: it seems, in the eyes of many, that it is an old thing that is leaving, a ruin that is crumbling, a corpse in decomposition. But in all this disorder , there is one deplorable thing, it is the not very noble and not frank conduct of the Europeans with regard to the Chinese. Besides that the rebellion was inspired by Protestant sources, to such an extent that many have no difficulty in believing that the Protestant ministers are the culprits, many say even the leaders, some representatives of the European powers have not maintained an impartial conduct vis-à-vis the various parties, even the rebels have obviously been favoured. the Chinese people have exercised their hatred against foreigners, and it is very much to be feared that the emperor having the upper hand, which will quite probably happen, will take a terrible revenge, and it will be the poor Catholic Missionaries and their Christians who will suffer It's you Always like this: truth and justice are persecuted here below. But iniquity has only one time..., its turn will come, when the day of revelations comes. And I read at the end of the Apocalypse these consoling words: The Spirit and the Bride say: Come! "

Elsewhere, he says again, but addressed to journalists: What are the rebels doing in China? 'No one knows; many things are said, but the true state of affairs is not known. We have done wonders of the Chinese rebellion, it seems likely that it will be a mountain giving birth to mice. The newspapers of France and England make long articles, give news, flow in their columns from magnificent considerations on China; often these are just empty words, the daydreams of journalists. Here it makes people laugh, it's a comedy; I don't know where these documents will be obtained from. We must be wary of journalists when they deal with the Chinese question; it has the property of giving the belue. — They also speak sometimes of energetic representations in favor of the Christian religion; we do not know who is inventing in this way: there is nothing true, nothing, absolutely nothing. The spirit which animated Constantine, the great Theodosius, Saint Louis and the knights, this spirit is no longer with modern governments, which have become atheistic under the influence of Protestantism and Voltairianism. And when once we have become imbued with false maxims, we do not shed them like a habit (even those which are the best intentioned). In God above all, hope and help; it is therefore necessary to pray to him for the conversion of the infidels, and to pray to him a great deal. Prayer is worth a cannonball. "

Finally, at the same time, he spoke to M. Dallet about the persecution in the Mission of Canton; and after a few harsh words, he said: Ah! where is Saint Louis with his knights?

The frequent quotations that we make from the letters written by Théophane to M. Dallet, provide us with convincing proof that their intimacy was not cooled by distance: it seems rather to have grown still further, and to have been perfected by passing the seas. M. Dallet was good enough to communicate to us some other documents, emanating from the pen of our Missionary, and which we are going to give again; the reader will certainly only gain by thus becoming more fully acquainted with this reciprocal friendship, purified by religion and faith. First of all, here is that Théophane is going to tell us himself what this friendship was, by what he writes to M. Dallet, on the date of September twenty-six, 1853:

“You ask me, my dear friend, if I live with you, in your memory? well permitted to form a special friendship, when one finds oneself so far removed from the one one loves; the community will hardly suffer from it. I trust that God does not disapprove of me, for it seems to me that it is for His love and in his love we have united our hearts. It is not what can be bad in us that we love, is it? In this we have proved ourselves. So let us always be united, my very dear, always brothers, devoted to the same cause, submissive disciples of the best of masters. For all the world, let us not look back. Up! our hearts! For me, I assure you that the more I see men, the more I feel disgusted with it, the more I advance in life, the more I find it bitter: Nolite diligere mundum a nequeea quoe inmundo sunt —Our feet walk on the earth, but it is good and our souls must soar in the sky...

"My Bishop wrote to me, when I was still in Paris: I pray for you and ask Our Lord that your devotion be perfected day by day, that your holocaust be complete, and that doing so great an enterprise, you pursued it after the manner of the Saints. Don't be half an apostle, my dear child. Have before your eyes your great models, your

admirable predecessors. By imitating their abnegation, their contempt for life, their habit of interior life and continual prayer, you will be raised to the same power as them, and you will multiply the conquests of Jesus Christ.

"I have these words always present in my memory, they give me courage and strength; I have transcribed them for you, so that you can use them too."

Théophane, from the depths of China, also remembered the proofs of friendship given in the past, and from time to time he still slipped in a little note:

"Farewell," he said, "let's not lose sight of gentleness and humility. Humility! of battle which is invincible. Farewell, brother, in the heart of Jesus and in the arms of our Mother." — Lower down, he said, laughing: "I have just read your letter to Father Chapdelaine, who laughed a great deal at your beard with me. Do you think I envy him? my mustache is enough for me. What does this wealth matter to those who have no desire? My dear, farewell! Our Lord's love and peace with you !”

True friendship is not limited to inspiring piety and turning hearts to God; she is not only a counsellor, she is also a consoler.

"Dear friend," he said to Father Dallet, "you have been well tested from the start of your apostolic ministry. Ah! why am I not with you to shake your hand, weep with you for your sorrows, try to say a few words to you of consolation! I keenly feel the statement of your sorrows, I understand them, and if I did not know your dispositions, I would pity you.

pass through the crucible, and your gold is refined: God wants you for himself: after having nourished you with milk, he has weaned you, you know a stronger food. You are walking to the fullness of your age in Jesus Christ. You have to be a perfect man to be a man of God, don't you, Father Dallet? If the instrument is not suitable for the use one wants to make of it, it is an instrument half useless. Let's not be half apostles, let's not be half men; it is a great thing to be a Missionary, the duties of a Missionary are limitless, it is perfection to be achieved, if possible. But, Father Dallet, what is a fine scaffolding if it is placed on quicksand? what is a ship without an anchor in a storm? Ah! my dear, let us understand what we are, what we must do, what God, our great Master, wants to ask of us, and returned to the post, at the time of acting, let us not be found minus inhabitants.

"All the evils of which you speak to me and those which I see pierce my soul, but they teach me to despise what is of this world and turn my desires towards heaven, towards God, where the elect are gathered, where Jerusalem is, peace, peace, peace!! However, despair does not take hold of me; it even seems to me that what is bad, by displeasing me, leads me more to what is good. I feel that my soul takes strength by suffering, that in the midst of its wounds it acquires a new sap and a more solid temperament. Father Dallet, courage! As you say to me: " There are sad things in this world: happy is he who stands apart, who lives in his own heart and dies entirely to himself. That's it, my dear, that's it. I am well consoled that Jesus Christ, this good Master, pours into your wounds the oil and the wine which heal them, and make you taste, with the bitterness, the sweetness of the Cross: Benedictus Deus Pater Domini our Lord Jesus Christ who consoles us in omni tribulation our !

On the subject of friendship, Théophane wrote again to Father Dallet:

“Sometimes we say: separation, estrangement, here is the touchstone of friendship. For me, I put my hand on my heart, and I find that it beats even stronger far away than near: c Separation is a heartbreak, a pain. See, my dear Father Dallet, we love God, at least we want to love him, we love the fatherland of heaven and its infinite joys, but it is a love of separation and hence a suffering love. In Paradise we shall enjoy love with plenitude and peace. Oh! come this day! You remember our dissertations on peace, on the etymology of Jerusalem, which we loved so much to conclude with the song of the anthem: Coelestis urbs yerusalem, beata pacis visio. But the mind of the Missionary always moving towards humility, he concluded in this way: Let us stop, Father Dallet: my heart does not get tired, but my head gets tired. However, I want to tell you that I often repeat the little prayer: Jesus meek and humble of heart, have mercy on us. I repeat it, I say, so often that I have made it a routine for myself, like those words that one repeats on every occasion, for which one seems to have a very particular affection. But I hear you exclaim: Ah! I see you coming! For once you're not there, I don't want to say bad reasons anymore, I want to try to become friendly.

Since we are in the chapter of friendship and truly brotherly friendship, let us continue the same and interesting subject. — Théophane had made more than one friend at the Séminaire des Missions-Étrangères; but among all we can name M. l'abbé Theurel, since, bishop of Acanthe, of which we have already spoken above. However, there are monuments which prove that the bond of friendship, there as elsewhere, was never broken.

After a few weeks' stay in Hong-Kong, Mr. Theurel was going to leave for the Tong-King, leaving our Missionary there, of whom he was the last of the traveling companions. The latter, seeing the emptiness forming once again around him, felt his grief renewed, and to charm his sadness and honor his friend more, he wanted to sing him a few couplets, so as he himself says, to bid him farewell in style.

TO FATHER THEUREL LEAVING FOR TONG-KING,

Farewell to his fellow traveler.

Air of Castibelza.

"We are all 'birds of passage

For various skies; From our God we carry the message,

Happy couriers. /

They say happy he who from the shore

Go away. Much happier who towards the goal arrives To finish! (bis.)

"Good companion, the great master calls you:

"Take flight...Ah! may you, flying like a wing,

Shoot you down at the port! We remain deprived of your presence,

But in our hearts Of a speedy departure we mingle hope With our tears. (bis.)

"You will join the elite battalion,

Happy soldier!

Picking up the merit award

In the fight.

"For you already weaves the crown

green laurels,

May the Lord not reserve and give

What to his warriors! (bis)

“Our ranks are taken under the same banners;

Let's stay united;

Of a family as we see the brothers

Perfect friends.

"If sometimes our souls are weary,

Let's console ourselves...

We will tell each other the past miseries

The appointment ! (bis)

M. Vénard had found in Hong-Kong some old friends of the Seminary who had left at an earlier period; others also came to join him there, and his heart knew how to win over several of them. We cannot mention them all here, let's just talk about Mr. Chapdelaine.

M. Chapdelaine was much older than our Théophane; the latter told his brother Eusebius that he was nearly forty years old, nevertheless a serious and already venerable air went very well in his person with a frank gaiety and a very amiable character. Théophane adds that he was a Norman of a robust constitution, of traditional spirit, but above all a holy man, a good colleague, a Missionary full of courage. In a letter still addressed to Mr. Dallet, he said: "Father Chapdelaine (who sends you his regards in parentheses) is waiting for Father Amat to prepare his lodgings to receive him. He is the healthiest, the freshest and most nimble of us all; he wears on his face the roses of eternal youth, as Father Bariod said in the compliment he addressed to him on his birthday.

M. Vénard does not add that he also paid Father Chapdelaine his little compliment; but nevertheless it has come down to us. In truth, it is a joke, but a joke in good taste, and we do not want to deprive our readers of it; we will see once more that good piety, true holiness does not always exclude gaiety, joy, sweet recreations.

CHANT

FOR M. CHAPDELAINE'S BIRTHDAY.

Aria of the verse: Why this lively joy?

Chorus tune: On this day, oh good Madonna.

"To sing a great character,

You have to be a perfect cantor;

I leave this sharing to others

Sublime was not done.

And even it can be a glory,

Above all compliments,

A name telling more than a story...

How then to sing with dignity?

Chorus: "With dignity

Without pain or embarrassment

Chapdelaine Le Normand.'

The world gives crowns

To victorious merit,

And have it engraved on columns

The names of its famous warriors;

But to offer a worthy tribute

To virtue... Nothing big enough

Cannot be said in his language...:

How then to sing with dignity

Chorus: With dignity, etc.

Neither embarrassment

When a man is on this earth

All to all like the Saviour,

Everyone esteems and venerates him,

And love him from the bottom of his heart.

Then the good Lord rewards him

In his Paradise placing him,

There to sing I have hope

A little better than here with dignity.

Refrain, : Dignité, etc.

Théophane liked to make a few rhymes on occasion, and the suspicion occurred to him that sometimes perhaps his younger brother might have the same taste: that is why he gives him some advice on the subject.

"I do not ask, he said, that you be a poet, that is of little use, and you are of this opinion; what I wish is that when the occasion arises to exercise your muse, you do not reject it with disdain; above all I would not like to be deprived of taking part in the celebration. To make verses for the sake of making verses is no more to my taste than to yours; but I find no harm in trying a few verses or verses. in honor of the Blessed Virgin, to celebrate the feast of one of his masters, to sing of a father, a sister, a brother and friends, the steeple of his village, his youth, the memory of his mother. .., etc., nature and its beauties, which speak of the glory of God and his love for us. You understand, the occasion presenting itself, from time to time of course, you have to let yourself go. The verve is not there, do not force it; but when the stream wants to flow, I do not approve of a dyke being opposed to it without reason or by system. Saint Basil and Saint Gregory dilated in ns their poetic, simple and innocent correspondences; many other Saints yielded to the same temptation. We offer Jesus and Mary her little song, and she is blessed. Nature must act without too much constraint in those things which are not bad; simplicity, clarity, few enthusiastic feelings; for the imagination easily goes mad, and therein lies the danger. You understand that, don't you? Especially if some superior said: Stop the rhyme! without further delay, we should pack up and put the pen back in its sheath.

A little later, Théophane gave the following advice to his dear student in the humanities: "Here you are in rhetoric, at the end of your literature course: beware of imagination, put yours in the hands of Blessed Virgin. Always remember that common sense must come before its sister, imagination. It seems to me that you could read Fenelon very usefully to form your taste. You can consult your masters to know the passages which will be most useful to you; the dialogues on eloquence are in the first line. Besides, all of Fénelon is good to read to form the mind and the heart; I would nevertheless except his Télémaque, in which there is however so many good things, but I have the greatest antipathy to the mythological fictions with which it is filled; I can only excuse them because of the taste of the times." - A few months later, the prudent Missionary gave new instructions: "Work, he said, to make a good philosophy; read the works of Saint Thomas, Fénelon, Bossuet, the Thoughts of Pascal, the works of M. de Maistre, the Philosophical Studies of M. Nicolas, the Treatise on the Love of God by Saint Francis de Sales, the most beautiful treatise on philosophy that a man has composed. Above all reflect, meditate; after that, if you have time left , studies the other branches of human knowledge. Nothing is too much to know, in whatever position one occupies, except evil."

The Martyrdom of M. de Chapdelaine, of which we spoke earlier, was written by Mgr Guillemin, Apostolic Prefect of Canton; he is a new friend of Théophane whom we are going to quickly meet. Near the city of Hong Kong there is a small college of the Canton Mission under the patronage of St. Francis Xavier. M. Guillemin, then a simple priest, was in charge of it for some time, and he asked M. Vénard to teach philosophy to a pupil who had made his first studies at Pinang, another college of the Missions. Our Missionary accepted, happy to have to work for several months, while awaiting his final destination, together with a man reputed by all to be a saint.

Now, our readers are aware that M. Guillemin made a trip to Europe a few years ago, and that during his stay in Rome he was consecrated Bishop. We saw, a few months later, His Grace at Poitiers, accompanied by a young Chinese; Abbé Eusèbe Vénard, who was then at the Major Seminary, thus recounted at that time the interviews he had had on several occasions with Mgr Guillemin and his traveling companion: because the latter happened to be the student to whom Théophane had taught philosophy at Saint-François-Xavier College in Hong Kong.

"It was on January 1857, XNUMX that Bishop Guillemin came to the Major Seminary to preside over the spiritual reading, in order to talk to us about his mission. That day I did not see His Greatness, but I had the happiness of seeing Benoît, the young man who accompanied him. As soon as my name was spoken to him, an indescribable joy shone on his face: this name brought back to him a touching memory. So from that moment, we were friends, and immediately we embraced each other like two brothers. who had not seen each other for many years.—The next day, when I was presented to Monseigneur, His Grace examined me attentively; then, having recognized on my face some features of Theophane's face, She spoke to me with kindness. , an amenity that confounded me. Ah! my dear abbé, my good abbé! She would say; but it would be necessary to be able to describe with what tone of the heart She pronounced these words in an affable, tender and paternal tone.

"We talked a lot about Théophane, for that was the main purpose of my visit. - lively and very penetrating; he wrote French verses very easily; and as he was very loving and very delicate, he often made use of this facility to celebrate his friends and his superiors. The villain played me well tricks of this kind, when we were together at Saint-François-Xavier College. When I was appointed superior of the Canton Mission, all the pupils led by your Théophane came to congratulate me; so I was not still Bishop, he had rhymed a few verses in my honor on this occasion, and moreover hastily made a miter with rushes, and a bamboo crosier, thereby testifying to his joy, and making known the wishes and desires of his Moreover, this cheerful spirit, full of a great help in running the quorum. The students liked him extremely, so that everything went on as if under the impulse of his cheerfulness. "

After the nomination of M. Guillemin, Théophane was very desirous of seeing, at least from a distance, the Mission of Canton: one day therefore they left together with provisions, and after having climbed a high mountain for three hours, its summit they saw the promised land. “Never,” said Bishop Guillemin, “have I seen the little Missionary happier than on my return from this excursion. Ah! my dear Abbot, your brother is a holy Missionary, and I very much regretted his departure for King, for I loved him very much, and he was mine first of all."—His Majesty gave me still many other very interesting little details, which it would take too long to write. When I bade farewell to Monseigneur, he embraced me with effusion, with tenderness; I well understood in my heart that he sincerely and affectionately loved my brother, and I felt passing through my whole being the certain testimony of this tender affection. I asked him for his blessing on my knees: then, his forehead resting on my forehead, his hand in my hand, he spoke softly in my ear; I was very impressed, and I believe that His Greatness read deep in my soul what I felt. She kissed me again once or twice, and I left her all moved to say goodbye to my dear friend Benoît, who was also really touched as he kissed me for the last time.

In these relations of Théophane with Bishop Guillemin reported by His Majesty Herself, we see with what finesse of mind, with what frankness coming from the heart, the young Missionary knew, on occasion, how to address compliments to his superiors, without no research, but in all simplicity. It is that Theophanes truly loved them, and that in their person, in addition to their own qualities, he saw God himself, whom they represented. Also, on their side, his superiors were never mistaken about the motive which made him act: all loved and esteemed him, because, with the qualities of the spirit which shone in him bright and resplendent, the qualities of the heart appeared with no less brilliance. Mgr Cousseau, Bishop of Angoulême, who was his superior at the Major Seminary, provides us with rich testimony to this in a letter addressed to Father E. Vénard in January 1862: "I tenderly loved your excellent brother; I admired this virtue, so sweet and so pure, this candor and this simplicity joined to an intelligence and a seriousness of thought so rare at his age. — The reader will understand the value of the testimony rendered by such a master to such a disciple.

"I will not finish my letter, wrote Théophane to Monseigneur de Poitiers, without showing Your Highness all the pleasure I felt in reading, in Hong Kong, on the public papers, some speeches delivered by Her in various circumstances: it is Providence that has sent me a few crumbs of that good bread with which you feed your children, Monseigneur, among whom I take pride in finding myself.

If some day you deign, Monsignor, to put down on a sheet of paper your holy blessing, to send it to your poor servant, the simplest way is to address it to the Superior of the Séminaire des Missions-Étrangères in Paris. ." — Then, some time later, the letter having come with the blessing: "I thank you, Monsignor, for all the blessings you have sent me with the letter from Your Grace; they will certainly bring me happiness."

Obviously, if Theophane spoke thus, it was because his righteous and profoundly religious mind had such a lofty idea of ​​episcopal dignity, and Bishop de Poitiers above all, with his tall and noble face, seemed to him so worthy of respect, that naturally his pen wrote what his heart felt. And then the holy Missionary shared humility; he had acquired it by work. Also we will not find extraordinary, but really beautiful in its naivety, this sentence which he will soon write from the Tong-King: "Monsignor, I have received the letter which Your Lordship has done me the honor of m writing; it has given me a pleasure that I do not know how to express, and also it has covered me with confusion, because Your Grace deigns to call me his friend. That I am your child, Monsignor, oh yes; but as for the title of friend, I dare not accept it, I am too young, too inexperienced in life and too small." — But really we would not finish, if we meant all the resources contained in this spirit and in this heart. The more we study it, the more we get to know it; what we knew in advance was only what overflowed in spite of itself as from an overfull vase. Moreover, God had thus adorned him and filled him with graces for himself.

Chapter ninth

Destination for Western Tong King

farewell. — final advice. — Macau. -

journey. — arrival in the mission.

It was in the month of February, 1854, that M. Venard received his definitive mission for the Western Tongking. The Lord was thus fulfilling part of his wishes, since it was there that the dreams of his childhood had taken him. Here are the terms in which he shared his happiness with Mr. Barran, then superior of the Séminaire des Missions-Étrangères:

Mr. Superior,

Tong-Kinois for Chinese, I don't lose on the exchange! I would have liked any Mission that had been given to me; but the Tong-King Mission governed by the great Bishop Mgr Retord, the Western Tong-King so rich, so illustrious in memories, I love it with a double love. I love it, like the part of the inheritance that the Father of the family gives me to cultivate; I love it because it is the finest Mission among all, a magnificent army arrayed in battle, the diamond of Asia, as a poet from the Tong-King sings. When, being still in Paris, I remained alone in the midst of my colleagues, without destination, Mr. Albrand addressed me some good words to console me, and one day he said to me: No, it is not the case to repeat : For the last comers, at dinner, only the bones are left! (Virgil). I like here to recall this memory, and I take occasion to address to the good Albrand all sorts of thanksgiving, for his kindness towards me. The happy and worthy Apostle also shares the good news with his family: I am therefore going to Tong-King, my beloved; it is there that the venerable Charles Cornay died a martyr. This does not mean that the same fate awaits me there; however, if you would pray to the good Lord for me, perhaps the same favor would be more easily granted to me. By the grace of God, isn't it? all of you as well as me, at the Tong-King as in France."

To his younger brother: "I saw China from afar, as Moses once saw the land of promise, without entering it. I will not enter China either, I must steer my boat towards another shore.. .. I am therefore going to the Tong-King, in the homeland of the Mission which is called Western Tong-King; it is there that the venerable Charles Cornay was martyred; it is there that Messrs. Schoeffler and Bonnard, the one on May 1851, 1882, the other on May XNUMX, XNUMX, obtained the same crown from this martyrdom. It is in the Annamite country, which includes Cochinchina and Tong-King, that the persecution is most active. the head of each missionary is put at a price, and when we can seize someone, we cut off his head without ceremony. But God watches over his own, and he only gives to the executioners those to whom his mercy wishes to grant the grace of martyrdom. One is taken, the other is left; and, there as everywhere, the holy will of God receives its execution. more violent in the Annamese land than in any other country, it is nevertheless there that the Missions are most flourishing. The blood of martyrs is a seed of Christians. (Tertullian.)

"I have to fear, in the crossing from Hong-Kong to the Tong-King, the attacks of the pirates who infest this part of the sea; but sail the boat! they will only take it as far as God permits."

In another letter, the holy Missionary says again with enthusiasm: The Western Tong-King Mission towards which I am going to direct my steps and where all my affections have long been returned, is a truly beautiful Mission, beautiful in its strong and powerful organization. , beautiful in the number and fervor of its Christians, whose number reaches 150.000, and more beautiful still in hope; beautiful in its native clergy which counts 80 priests under the direction of which walk 1 catechists; beautiful in its religious communities where 200 Sisters live; beautiful in its Seminars which contain 600 seminarians; beautiful in its illustrious bishop Mgr Retord, whose praise can be summed up by saying that, since his episcopate, he has increased the number of sheep in his flock by 300! Isn't there a beautiful procession to ascend to heaven, and a beautiful crown for eternity? Oh ! I have some impatience to be near this holy Bishop to initiate myself in the apostolic ministry, to form myself in such a fine school, and to march, a humble soldier, under the direction of such a great captain. Besides, there are six Missionaries of the Congrégation des Missions-Étrangères: may I make a worthy seventh! — In enumerating the beauties of the Tong-King, I said nothing of its martyrs, immortal flowers which the hand of the Lord picked in the field of his predilection. The Martyrs are the patrons, the protectors, without a doubt, of the Missions which gave them to the Kingdom of Heaven; their blood shed for the good cause from above before God, and the memory of their victory strengthens the courage of those who remain in the place of combat. Tell me, brother, what honor and what happiness has Theophane, if the good Lord would condescend.... Do you understand?

Finally, before going to the Tong-King, he also wanted to write to Father Dallet; and as martyrdom was evidently the object of all his wishes, and as his heart seemed to glimpse it already, he said to his friend, with an expression still more striking: A few years ago, MM. Galy and Berneux were caught on arriving at the Tong-King; if the same fate awaited us!... Oh! dear Father Dallet, every time the thought of martyrdom occurs to me, it makes me shudder: it is the beautiful and good share, which is not given to everyone... hallelujah! I dare not ask for such a brilliant crown; but my soul cannot help itself from strong emotion and frequent sighs... You remember your prayer: it has an invincible charm for me: Sancta Maria, Regina martyrum, ora pro nobis Pray, pray for your friend, who does not forget you for a single day!

We praise you, Lord... The white army of Martyrs offer you their praises.

Let the saints rejoice in the Lord. (Office of the Martyrs.)

Lord, you said: There is no love stronger than that which leads to laying down one's life for those one loves. (Off. of the Apostles.)

Holy Mary, Queen of Martyrs, pray for us. (Litanies of the Blessed Virgin.)

final;

it would take too long to reproduce them all, we only give the one he addressed to his brother Henri:

Ali! brother, he said, I understood your sentence well: Eusebius has arrived fresh and healthy, so here we are. almost full. "And I, on the contrary, am leaving." Ah! like you in China, I travel worry-free in spirit to Saint-Loup, and many times, I assure you, tears come to my eyes at the memory of our young years, of the joys so sweet tasted in the company of all the friends I have known. Oh! I can well say with Virgil and as Delille translates: One day (and I say: Always),

One day, these memories will have charms for me.

"Since I left, I have not encountered this happiness of family and true friendship on my way: I expected it. I hope that after the heartbreak will come the scar. Besides, each age, each position has its cares, its sorrows, its bitterness. Nothing very good, my brother, here below, except what is of God, the grace which makes us its friends; and in heaven what is with God , the glory that crowns the Saints.

He adds: ...... I have no boredom. Long live cheerfulness!

When one works and lives for the good Lord, one has a comfortable heart. — And you, you scratch the paper every day: that's good! Office life has its charms. For me, what I would have liked in life would have been the office and the open air. Also this hunting party you are telling me about, it seemed to me to be there. Oh! the good old times! "At the Tong-King, I don't know what I'll find." Come what may! we find the good God everywhere, it is he who is our happiness and our joy."

He ended his farewell to his brother Eusebius in the same way by saying: ... There is little use in sadness, so that in the midst of dejection and disgust and all kinds of suffering, you have to take your heart in both hands and make it cry out in spite of itself: Long live joy anyway!!"

Theophane was therefore about to leave; but while bidding farewell, he still wanted to give everyone one last piece of advice. Addressing his sister, he seizes on a circumstance that seems quite futile:

At Christmas time, she imagined, through meditation, the Crib of the divine Savior with all the characters and animals that surrounded it, wanted to choose a role near Jesus that suited her. In her embarrassment, she drew lots, and the fine role of Marie fell to her share. The thought then occurred to her of also shooting for her Théophane, whose memory never left her, and behold, the latter fell to a role that was very humble and very vile in appearance, the role of the donkey, while his excellent sister thought she might have the role of Joseph for him. To amuse her brother a little, she took it into her head to write to him jokingly about what the whim of fate had decided; now here is Theophane's answer:

"I am very happy with the share that fell to me in the Christmas drawing; I have the donkey's share: so be it. If I wanted to, I would accuse you of a little malice in this encounter. but no. The donkey knows how to bray: he teaches me thereby to be a good trumpet of the Gospel; the donkey receives the blows without complaining: may I also have patience to share! The poor animal receives insult and derision; his name is far from being a compliment, but he ignores all that and goes his way. And I, like him, must ignore the world, cultivate humility in contempt and follow, faithful disciple, Jesus Christ my Master everywhere, always and all the same.

“Your part is beautiful: meditate on it well, keep it well; it is the life of recollection, the life of union with God. Here you are seated, like Mary, at the feet of Jesus, listening to his word; be gentle, attentive, and do not allow yourself to be distracted by the buzzing outside.You must not only live an active life represented by Martha, but add to it the contemplative life represented by Mary Magdalene: for Mary, Mother of Jesus , knew how to unite these two lives; science is indeed there, it is necessary to give to each what is appropriate to him. You can sometimes be Marie only; but when you are Marthe, do not be Marthe all alone, full of concern and worries. Do the works of Martha with the spirit of Mary; do all things well, both of the interior life and of the exterior life, conforming your will to the will of Jesus. Imitate Jesus, imitate the Blessed Virgin Mary, and you will be perfect."

To his brother Henri, in his turn, the prudent and zealous Missionary addresses words that we would like all young people to hear; he knew very well that the slope of evil is slippery, and he wanted to warn him of it in advance. In life, he says, the soul finds itself placed in different situations, being sometimes cheerful, calm and at ease, sometimes dark, wandering, torn. It must be for everyone, unless one is a phenomenon in nature: for this is the struggle between the good part and the bad part, which unfortunately exists in all men. When the good part triumphs, it is the first state, the normal state, the one that must be loved and always sought to be preserved, at all costs. When the bad part triumphs, and this is the second state, the state of disorder, of agitation, of vagueness, of worries, of senseless desires, of vagrancy! the bad state which must be rid of at all costs, and with which it is not appropriate to take a serious resolution, because then the ideas are obscured and the judgment judges false. —Now, how is this abnormal state produced? I said, by the triumph of the bad part. How does she win? Because she gets reinforcement. What is this reinforcement? Bad company, bad books, forgetfulness of one's duties, and consequently vicious habits.

My brother, I tell you all this to guard you against the evil that today is widespread everywhere; you will make your profit from it, and if, in you as in all, there is a bad part in conflict with the good part, you will avoid giving reinforcement to the first against the second by the means that I have said. But I insist especially on the subject of bad books, because it is a plague.

A bad book is not only an impious book and an immoral book (these are deadly poisons); but it is still a book which gives false ideas, which speaks of everything, judges everything, makes everyone laugh right and wrong. This book is all the worse for being of a more beautiful style; with him youth evaporates, falsifies its judgment, renders itself incapable of working for its own good and for the good of society. Such are the books which are called novels. I saw a pupil of the royal navy, a brilliant subject, who had nourished and watered his youth with all the readings of which I am speaking to you; he has now returned to reason and honour: he is truly a worthy young man. Well ! you cannot imagine with what indignation he pronounced himself before me against novels and quasi-romantic works. O my brother, you mustn't joke with poison!

It was at this time, at the very moment of leaving for the Tong-King, the good Theophane wrote, with his usual gaiety, these pleasant words: "Since I am going to the Tong-King, a shrine must be prepared for me. to put my future relics. Now the shrine is the volume in which are deposited so many and such beautiful memories, and especially the letters of the dear martyr, while waiting for it to be given to render another honor to more precious remains. Again.

On the twenty-sixth of May 1854, Mr. Vénard and a former missionary of the Tong-King who was returning to his post, finally said goodbye to the English colony, and as the wind served them as they wished, after a few hours they were in Macao. , awaiting a favorable occasion, and enjoying the most cordial hospitality among the RR. PP. Spanish Dominicans. M. Vénard tells us about this town:

"The importance of Macao was once great, as you know, when Portugal almost had the empire of the sea. Ships flowed into its beautiful harbor, now deserted; it was the general warehouse of the European trade with China. The numerous Missionaries who have watered the barren soil of the Celestial Empire with their sweat, all set out from Macao, to disperse in all directions in the immense regions of the Far East. Oh! truly, Portugal was entrusted with a noble mission by Providence, and it disregarded and denied it. It seems that from then on its decadence began, as if God wanted to break it, just as one breaks a deteriorated instrument. Kings have never gained anything by wrestling with the Church of Jesus Christ and her head on earth, and their story is beautifully foretold in the second psalm: nothing more beautiful to meditate on and sing about ruins : And now, O kings, understand; learn, you who judge the earth. (PS. XI.)

"To tell the truth," continues the Missionary, "Macao is a ruin. They still salute a governor there, but he no longer has any prestige; the soldiers mount guards, but their number is limited, and there is no longer any money to pay them.—There are fine houses: some are closed, others occupied by English and Americans. The rich Portuguese are the few, the poor swarm; the Chinese alone, who are the large population, support their trade fairly well, Hong Kong completes the death of Macao.

"There are some curiosities to see in the old colony: the tomb of Camoens, landlocked between two rocks, in the middle of the most charming passage, is such that one can imagine the tomb of a poet. This tomb is the main ornament of a superb garden, which unfortunately is not well maintained. Many curious people visit the tomb and deposit their impressions on a notebook placed ad hoc; the French sailors especially illustrated it, some were rather badly inspired in indecent songs in bad taste."

Our two Missionaries left Macao on June XNUMX; we will let Théophane tell his journey himself:

"Returned to the Tong-King, St. John's Eve, June 23, 1854.

"My dear Henri, my dear Eusebius,

I dedicate to you my first letter dated from the Tong-King. I arrived in peace in the RR Mission. PP. Spanish Dominicans, and this is where I take up my pen to salute your fraternity and give you, current quill, some details about my trip.

My colleague, M. Legrand and I embarked at Macao on the evening of June XNUMX, at nightfall, like people who are plotting a bad trick. We thought that our Chinese ship would leave as soon as possible; not at all, the Chinese hardly go on straight lines. We must deliberate on the trip, consult the devil, take precautions against pirates. We were to sail with other Chinese ships; but the Chinese distrust each other, and before leaving in earnest, they simulate departure several times and make various maneuvers to see if the ships which go together are safe.

While awaiting the day of final departure, we anchored at some distance from Macao, in a place where the English smuggle opium. So here we are, we, two European Missionaries, in the midst of people who don't like anything European, and are always ready to lavish insult when there is no reason to fear. We are installed in a small recess where we can only remain seated or lying down, breathing a fetid air, receiving visits from a multitude of insects of all shapes. There we must stay the night, and often also the day. If we appear outside, the Chinese call us devils of foreigners, curiously examine our person and all that she does. If the departure is delayed, later in the route if there is danger from pirates, if the wind blows little or blows too hard, we are certainly the cause. It is difficult to keep a countenance that pleases: if we are familiar, we receive scorn; if we speak little or if we keep a little serious, we are superb Europeans.

"The Missionary draws from the cross much consolation and strength in the midst of these miseries; with the memory of the cross, we pass over many things that irritate, and we can keep the equality of character, a necessary virtue, but sometimes difficult.In short, on all these considerations, I shorten because our mail urges us.

“We finally left in the company of seventy ships which had managed to agree, after much parley: we must navigate in concert in order to frighten the pirates by the great number. We saw them in a place called Tin-Pac six of their ships filed past in our presence, cannon were sent to them, and the wind being favorable, we sailed at full sail towards Hai-Nan, which is a large island where we remained for a few days in front of a large town which we said to contain two hundred thousand inhabitants. You can imagine that we did not go to show ourselves there. A Missionary of our congregation, and moreover of the diocese of Poitiers, M. Bisch, works for the Lord in this island: we greeted him from the heart. On leaving Hai-Nan, the Chinese ships divided and few took the Tong-King's way. Until then the sea had been fair; the last two days of the voyage it was bad; so I paid my tribute according to my custom in such an instance. here we are, that we are touching the cherished land of the Tong-King, I salute it with transport, for it is my new fatherland. "

The Missionary said in the same way to Bishop Pie: "From as far as I could see its shores, I sent them my greetings, my wishes. I was moved, and as we approached, my emotion grew. I then offered myself to God, submitting myself to all that it will please his goodness to arrange for me; I invoked Mary, my Queen and my Mother, I put myself under the protection of my good angel and the protective angels of the Tong-King ."

We now resume the first letter: "The general view of the country is magnificent; rich plains, strewn with verdant hills, luxuriant vegetation such as is described in Robinson's book, then, to bound the landscape, great mountains heaped up to the sky. We entered by a beautiful river, the waters of which flow slowly between banks strewn with groves, and we went to anchor in a place called Cuà-Câm, where Chinese smuggling is carried on. allowed us to show our European face in the sun, and we can only breathe a little at night without precaution. Fortunately, this life only lasted twice twenty-four hours. The local mandarin came to inspect the ship; we were able to look at his character through the cracks in a partition, not saying a word and holding back any sudden movement.fox hasn't felt the nest.

However, we were provided with a Christian boat; almost all the inhabitants of Cuà-Câm are Christians. There was some misunderstanding; for a moment the men in the boat showed great fear, and we thought we were lost. But we made a good figure; our Christians gained confidence; a few more hours, and we arrived in a place of safety, in a beautiful Christendom of the Mission entrusted to the RRs. PP. Spanish Dominicans. Archbishop Hilarion Alcazar gives us in his episcopal palace, that is to say in his episcopal cabin (because here every dwelling is a cabin), a cordial hospitality, such as we imagine among the Christians of the first centuries of Catholic Church. I make up a little for my strength, worn down by the fatigues of the journey. I begin to taste this indescribable peace that the Lord sends to the Missionaries, and very especially to the Missionaries of the Tong-King; and I am writing to you, my beloved brothers, this fraternal chat which I am making very quick and very short. I must stop the ardor of my stylus..."

M. Vénard arrived at the Tong-King, but not at the Western Tong-King; here is how he himself continues the story of his journey:

Mission of the Western Tong-King, At the village of Ving-Tri, July 31, 1854.

My dear sister,

I presume that your thoughts have already very often gone to the distant countries where your brother, the little missionary, was led by divine Providence. Perhaps many times you have asked yourself: What is my Theophane doing now? is he healthy or sick? Does he have his heart at peace? Are not sorrows constantly besieging his door?... — My sister, Theophane always lives with you under the wing of the Lord, to whom belongs all the earth. However far I go, whatever happens, it doesn't matter: I hope that you will always find me present by the grace of God, at the rendezvous that our hearts have given each other. - I could close my letter here, but a few details of fraternal chat may not displease you.

You have already been able to read, in the letter which I addressed to Henri and to Eusebius, how our voyage from Macao to the Tong-King took place without mishap, and how we left the Chinese ship on the twenty-third of June, for to go, my confrere and I, to His Majesty Bishop Hilarion Alcazar, coadjutor of Bishop Hermozilla, Apostolic Vicar of the Eastern Tong-King. Later I learned that if we had stayed another day on our Chinese ship, it

It is quite probable that the news of my death would have closely followed the news of my arrival. Three king's ships having heard of our presence, came to surround the Chinese junk, and examine it minutely, as well as several other junks to try to discover us. Time and trouble wasted! For us, we thought only of enjoying the most agreeable hospitality at Bishop Alcazar's.

"We stayed with His Majesty for eight days; I was ill almost all that time. An Annamese doctor made me take potions which gave me enough strength to continue on the road. At this name of doctor, you are surprised no doubt, thinking that the country of the Tong-King is a country of savages, where it is difficult to find anyone worthy of bearing the noble name of a disciple of Hippocrates. Annamese have a civilization as estimable in several respects as that of Europe, and possess a great number of doctors, several of whom are of great renown in the country. It seems that the seat of mine was in the liver.

From Mgr Alcazar, we went to Mgr Hermozilla, a venerable old man, one of the columns that remained standing amid many ruins. Nothing equals the simplicity and gaiety of this good bishop. In this connection, I remember that one day the heads of a Christian community complained to Monsignor that several Christians had not yet paid for the rice of the Blessed Virgin. This is called a contribution levied on each harvest to meet the various needs of Christendom, either for worship or for other necessary expenses, and placed under the protection of the Blessed Virgin. This year, the harvest of the fifth month having failed in part, a certain number of taxpayers found themselves encumbered. Monsignor took up the defense of the poor against the advocates of the Blessed Virgin, and a regular dispute arose, in which each party offered its reasons; I believe that Monseigneur succeeded in winning the cause of the poor.

"We only stayed two days at the episcopal palace of Mgr. Hermozilla. Do not misunderstand, my sister, this pompous name of episcopal palace: it is nothing straw. Here all the dwellings are of this type: one quickly gets accustomed to them, seeing that the climate is very hot; it suffices to be protected from the rays of the sun and the rain, that is all. The churches are not no more beautiful: a straw roof supported by wooden pillars which are covered with hangings on feast days, nothing more; a few badly joined boards form the altar. If the Annamites had peace, they could, although they are not rich, to build a little more sumptuous temples to the glory of God; but, today, one can only build one-day buildings, which are easy to destroy when new rumors circulate of persecution. After a few days, we directed our steps towards the second vicariate of the Spanish Fathers. , which is called Central Vicariate. We had to go by boat; but the wind being contrary, we could not get to a certain station in time, and we had to change our route and cross, carried in nets, according to the custom of the country, a great number of pagan villages, and even a large market that stood across the path we had to take. We were right in the middle of this market, opposite the residence of a certain authority of the village, before whom the rule is that inferiors must walk on foot out of respect, and we took great care to observe the rule. Our porters sped off as quickly as possible. They cry out to us: Who are these men who do not come down from their nets? The catechist, leader of the band, replies that they are sick, people of the house. "At least," adds the sentry, "the net must be lowered." Porters lower the net. Monsieur Legrand understood what was going on, and, according to the language of the country, he was afraid in his belly. As for me, I didn't hear any malice in it; and, seeing my net lowered, I believed in my simplicity that it was necessary to descend, and I already stretched out my legs. You can imagine what work I was going to do. Fortunately the porters did not give me time to accomplish my plan, and quickly put the system back on their backs. If we had paid a visit, what a find, what a nest, what birds! A short distance away we encountered a river and several Christian boats: we threw ourselves into one, and the gondola sailed! She led us directly to Bishop Diaz, vicar apostolic of the central Tong-King. Two couriers sent by Bishop Retord, our Apostolic Vicar, were waiting for us there to pick us up and drive us to our Mission. After a few days of rest, we said goodbye to Spanish hospitality, so true, so frank, so cordial, so noble, and we began our last stage, which for that was none the less dangerous.

“We went by night and by boat. We had to pass in front of a citadel and a post of 400 soldiers guarding the king’s rice store. replied that they were driving a Mandarin. They were doubtless not believed, for we immediately heard the alarm horn sound and the drum beat, and a boat set out in pursuit; but we had the lead, and it could not. to reach us. A second boat followed us, carrying part of our band, it was attacked; but it defended itself with its oars, and made so many maneuvers that it was also able to escape; as for the post of 400 soldiers, it didn't worry us.

This is basically, my dear sister, how one travels in the Tong-King, most often at night, sometimes by navigating the rivers, the streams and even the rice fields with a continual change of boats; sometimes like great lords on the backs of his fellows, in sorts of beds of straps or hammocks; a mat shelters you from the prying eyes of passers-by; sometimes on foot, without shoes; by small paths between the rice fields. If it is day, one can extricate oneself from the difficulty of the path; but at night, you have to resign yourself to limping along, falling into holes, into the water of the rice fields, into the mud; often it is in vain that we seek solid ground: every man for himself in those perilous moments when, believing that you are firmly planting your foot, you slip lightly on clay and wet ground and measure your length on the ground. Isn't that a very picturesque way of traveling? It is indeed a little painful, but I find that it is at least as laughable as it is fertile in incidents full of interest...

However, my sister, you are waiting for me to finally write that I have arrived safely. It was on the thirteenth, at three o'clock in the morning, that I touched the ground of my Mission, and that I saw my vicar apostolic, the illustrious Bishop Retord, of whom you have read many letters in the Annals. I found His Grace busy doing an ordination retreat; Mgr Jeantet, coadjutor, dean of all the Missionaries of the Tong-King, had come to help Mgr Retord. In addition, two Missionaries had been brought by circumstances to Their Highnesses. So we saw six Europeans together, two bishops and four missionaries: that doesn't happen every day at the Tong-King. "

Giving the same details to Bishop de Poitiers in a later letter, M. Vénard added: “Oh! frank! what mutual abandon! what kindness and what condescension in our two Lords! After having told many stories, talked about France,

Rome, from the war with the Russians; after singing a great number of songs old and new, the beautiful meeting dissipated."

Shortly after his arrival in the Western Tong-King Mission, Mr. Vénard also wrote to Mr. Dallet:

"I found there," he said, "near Msgr. Retord, that dear Father Theurel to whom I had bade farewell so full of tears almost a year ago. What are probabilities, Father Dallet? ... I have been leading a happy life here for a month, savoring the delights of the pleasures of the Tong-King: for, Father Dallet, it is good to live at the Tong-King.—M. Theurel preaches, confesses and burns the work; his health couldn't be better. Mine isn't brilliant; but... what's the use of running? You know the fable: weak health can take you a long way, and I console myself. "Courage in life! Long live joy all the same! Here is a famous maxim of Saint Thérèse that you no doubt know, but that I nevertheless want to transcribe for you to refresh your memory and mine: Let nothing trouble you, let nothing disturb you. terror, everything passes. God is immutable. Patience gets everything; who possesses God lacks nothing. God alone suffices. "—I forgot to tell you that our effects were partly plundered by the pagans, we do not yet know what has become of what remains. But... whoever possesses God, lacks nothing.. You may well imagine that my first visit was to the tomb of M. Bonnard, placed near the altar of the college church."

If M. Venard was very happy to find his friend M. Theurel at the Tong-King, his happiness was no less to see M. Venard arrive. We think that formerly there had been on this subject between the friends certain forecasts to meet one day: from there it comes that Theophane said just now: What are the probabilities, Father Dallet? — Later, M. Theurel also wrote in the same vein: My good and dear Father Dallet, who would have said it, who would have thought it, who could have believed it? It is necessary, however, that, remembering what probabilities are, you submit your imagination to imagine that Father Vénard and I are both in Western Tong-King, in the same village, in the same room... You to tell the pleasure!... Yes; but it would break your heart not to be part of it! However, you must be consoled...; as long as I seize it...the crown of heaven. (Ep. 1), that alone is necessary. It seems that Father Vénard, who has been here for a month, will speak the language with a correct accent, his little voice lends itself well to the rest. It's good!... I wish you the harmony and peace of the Missionaries of the Tong-King!

For Théophane, his happiness and his enthusiasm were so great to finally be part of this Mission that he had once called the elite battalion, and his heart beat so hard when he set foot on this blessed land, glorious battlefield of the soldiers of the Lord, that to keep the memory of such a memorable time sweeter and more beautiful, he wanted to translate his joy into a new song, which he addressed to his younger brother. It seems that he composed it with great ease, since he himself declares that he rhymed these few verses during a sleepless night. Besides, it was the moment he usually chose with a marked predilection.

SONG OF A MISSIONARY ARRIVING IN TONG-KING.

(air of General Bertrand leaving Sainte-Hélène. Or even of the Song: From your children receive the homage.)

"Carried on the light breeze, We touch the desired port. Hail! hail! new land! Hail! hail! revered soil! Of Annam they are beautiful, the shores, Like a delicious garden; Grandiose its landscapes. 'in the heavens (bis.)

Chorus.

"Noble Tong-King! land blessed by God, Heroes of the Faith glorious fatherland,

". I also come to serve you, l

'Happy for you to live and die!'

“The Annamese Church rises Here below with majesty, Like a temple which only ends in the sun of Eternity

It is there that my brothers work Bent under the weight of their ills, And, valiant soldiers, battle Against the infernal demons (bis).

Chorus: Noble Tong-King, etc.

The Lord has promised his glory To every victorious soldier; But to obtain victory You must take part in the fight, Let us therefore win the crown: To be happy you must suffer; The immutable decree orders it; And to live we must die (bis).

Chorus: Noble Tong-King, etc.

“Already, in this holy arena, Others have entered before me; My eyes there contemplate the imprint Of their blood shed for the Faith. Their names are in the book of life: God has proclaimed them Martyrs! they followed, They left me their memories (twice).

Chorus: Noble Tong-King, etc.

"Lord, the Father of the family Invites me to pick the good grain, And I arm myself with the sickle Your hand presents to me. I also go to the vineyard To tread the press with you, To work and make myself worthy at the evening banquet (bis),

Chorus: Noble Tong-King, etc.

“Lord, give me prudence And to think and to act;

Courage, zeal and then constancy, So as never to weaken. I place myself under your tutelage, I am weak... You are strong! Make me remain faithful, Always, always, until death (bis).

Chorus.

Noble Tong-King! blessed earth by God, heroes of the glorious fatherland Faith: I also come to serve you, Happy for you to live and die!

These were the dispositions of the worker on arriving at his task: to work, to save souls and to die. We are now going to see how he knew how to discharge this sublime role; but, before giving details, it is well to take a general look at the arena of combat, on the arrival of this new champion.

Chapter ten

A look at past persecutions. — state of Catholicism in 1854. —m. Venard at the Tong-King. — disease and persecution. — a sweet memory.— relations with Christians. — New Details of Diseases and Persecutions.

No Catholic is unaware that of all the Missions in the world, those of Cochinchina and Tong-King have experienced the most cruel persecutions on the part of men. Now, among the latter, the Mission of the Western Tong-King unquestionably holds the first rank, although for some years we can perhaps find an equal in its sister: the Mission of the Central Tong-King, directed by the Dominicans. Spaniards. This is why it was called the most beautiful Mission, the elite battalion, and as the vestibule of heaven. The young soldiers love this battlefield and consider themselves happy to fight there under the banner of the Cross of Jesus Christ. The Cross, this is the summary program of the Missionaries of the Tong-King, and it is also the history of all of them; from the earliest days their life has been but one long martyrdom, a continual cross admirably depicted and predicted by that great wooden cross erected on the Annamese shore before the arrival of any known Missionary, and found by the Dominican Diego Advarte in 1596.

The Jesuit Fathers were the real founders of the Mission in the person of Father Alexandre de Rhodes, who died in 1660. From their hands it passed into those of the Society of Foreign Missions, which still cultivates it today with a marked predilection, because it is the land where the palms of martyrdom grow more abundantly. Indeed, since her first child left for heaven in 1644 until today, there is only room for heroism which has become vulgar here; and the Mission, fought incessantly by the sword, grew up with its feet in blood and its head on the scaffold. (This outline is largely taken from the Annals of the Propagation of the Faith)

However, although the life of the Tong-King Mission was always dying, there were times of crisis and days of apparent calm. The first storm began with the eighteenth century; Providence avenged itself by smashing the thrones from which persecution never ceased to descend: a terrible lesson to princes who cut the throats of Christians their most faithful subjects. The dynasties of Cochinchina and Tong-King were swept from the ground, and the heir to their rights, later brought back to his kingdom by the hand of a Bishop, only regained possession of his scepter after having torn the edicts of persecution. Twenty years of peace under Gialong then gave the Annamite Church time to prepare for the bloody persecutions of Minh-Menh, who, like Pharaoh of old, forgot the many benefits which his fathers had been bestowed upon by the Missionary chiefs of the Christians.

Minh-Menh! This name inspires in Catholic hearts as much disgust and horror as that of Nero himself. All our readers know from the Annals the terrible persecution which began in 1833 and did not end until after 1841, a persecution of which only the rage of Satan could inspire the horrible project in a man's heart. We will not enter into the details which can be read in Volume IX of the Annales: for the rest, it suffices, to have an idea, to quote the names of our martyrs: MM. Gagellin, Marchand, Cornay, Jaccard, Borie, to whom we can add the Spanish Dominicans who died for the same cause, and the numerous natives who have marvelously followed in the footsteps of their masters. — But the cup of iniquities having overflowed, the arm of God was soon raised to put an end to the cruelties of the tyrant. Minh-Menh perished almost suddenly from a fall from his horse, on the twenty-first of January 1841, also in execration to Christians and pagans. His death suspended prosecutions and tortures; the sword that fell from the hands of the persecutor remained idle and forgotten for some time; the new king Thieu-Tri seemed to hesitate to pick it up in blood; besides, his effeminate arm was not strong enough to strike those great blows which had rendered his father's fury so terrible. The persecution only took place secretly and by virtue of the ancient edicts; some Missionaries were captured and freed by the French intervention.

However, Tu-Duc came to the throne in 1848; another persecutor, at first rather timid and seemingly without hatred, but for some years, as we shall see, relentless and full of rage. If at the beginning of this reign the Missionaries were more peaceful on this side, on the other hand they were strongly tested by the plagues, the famine, the plague, the typhus, the cholera, which carried away thousands of victims. But at least there was a real advantage there, it is that the Christians had the satisfaction of showing their enemies how charity knows how to exercise vengeance. For all recognition, the mandarins shed the blood of two new martyrs, MM. Schoeffler and Bonnard; then finally happy symptoms soon seemed to indicate an era of peace for Christians. Alas! this long-desired peace was to be long awaited. M. Vénard himself, who arrived at the Tong-King at the time of this semi-calm in 1834, will not be able to enjoy it; after a few years, he will be swept away by the storm which will again come to agitate these poor people and the spiritual leaders that the Lord has given them.

Nevertheless then, despite the obstacles of all kinds opposed to the preaching of the Gospel, despite the small number of apostolic workers and the insufficiency of their resources, despite all the fury of the ancient persecutions, and especially that of Minh-Menh, which lasted more than twenty years, the Tong-King was assuredly one of the idolatrous countries where Christianity had made the most progress. Bishop Retord said at that time: When I took over the government of this mission, sixteen years ago, it contained only 100 neophytes, and now it has 000, although the cholera of 139 has given us some. removed nearly 000. Now, all our Christians, except for a very small number, observe all the precepts of religion with an exactness, an assiduity and a constancy capable of making the old Christians of Europe blush. Needless to say, all are Roman Catholic; the heretical ministers, with their procession of women and children, have never landed on these unhealthy, poor and persecuted beaches, to seek to make followers there.

Mgr Retord was hardly more than 50 years old when M. Vénard arrived in Tong-King to work on this vineyard which promised such fine fruits. His Grace, said the young Missionary then, is a tall and still vigorous man, despite his long years of work and fatigue. He has been through the worst times; but the energy of his soul, aided by divine help, made him stronger than all trials, and, in the midst of the greatest difficulties, he established the Western Tong-King Mission on its most flourishing footing. .. — Thanks to his zeal and his care, the Mission counts today at least 75 native priests well instructed in the duties of their holy state, most of them zealous and truly commendable; this number can only increase in the future. The Minor Seminary established near the residence of Bishop Retord has nearly 200 students, distributed by class as in the Seminaries of France. There are also several small secondary colleges. When the seminarians have finished their studies, they pass an exam to be received as catechists; the examination passed, before the diploma of catechist is delivered, it is necessary that each one converts at least ten infidels. Theologians are chosen from among the catechists, and they are admitted to Orders only after a long time of trial. In truth, here the work of the good God prospers; last year, the catalogs were enriched with 1 new conversions. The number of Christians in the whole Mission is 500: it is a fine figure; but the number of the pagans is enormously more considerable. The most expert do not admit one Christian out of thirty or even one out of forty pagans, several even admit barely one Christian out of a hundred. This proportion gives for the total population of the Tong-King a very large figure, which seems incredible in view of the small extent of the country; but it is certain that the villages almost all touch each other; that the population abounds everywhere, that, moreover, that the soil is very fertile and material life inexpensive.

After this little diversion, which may have its usefulness and interest, we now resume the rest of our story.

Even before arriving at the Tong-King, during a large part of his stay in Hong-Kong and his visit to Macao, Mr. Vénard was suffering from a lung disease which only worsened with time. Chinese and Annamese medicine employed all its remedies to obtain a cure, it was in vain; and if the Missionary succeeded later in getting rid of the evil almost completely, he obviously owed it to divine intervention. We are going to hear from Theophanes own mouth the tales of his sufferings; he wrote to his father in March 1855:

“When I addressed my last letter to you in the month of August 1854, my well venerated and beloved father, I was with Bishop Retord in his residence at the College of Vinh-Tri. At the end of August, Monsignor sent me to study the Annamese language in a college in the village of Ké-Doân, and for that, Monseigneur added two catechists who knew how to speak a little Latin. Jeantet, coadjutor of Bishop Retord. I stayed eight days with His Grace. Bishop Jeantet is 63 years old, and it is 37 years since he came on Mission; he is a very venerable old man, but also very kind These eight days passed like an hour; His Majesty never tired of asking me questions about Europe, especially about France, a country so dear to the heart of the Missionary. I also had great pleasure in going to visit the seminarians and jabbering with them the few Annamese words that I had already learnt.

"So I went away, as I told you, to study the language at the little college of Làng-Doân: a month passed like nothing in this study. On the second Sunday of October I ventured to utter a little sermon, in the village church, in the presence of the Christians. The first of the place came to congratulate me; it is not that they understood much of my speech, but the Annamese are strong on politeness and urbanity, and although I had spoken very badly, they did not pay me less compliments. A few days later, the good Lord allowed me to fall ill, a pestilential disease broke out in the community, and I was stricken with the first. My catechists took care of me with much charity and attention; Mgr Retord, Mgr Jeantet and M. Castex, pro-vicar of the Mission, sent me doctors to cure me, and, with the grace of God, they got through it. As soon as I could stand on my feet, I changed my air and rode away another village named Kè-Dâm, where an Annamite priest has his main residence. You should note this point, that I went by boat through the fields, because every year at this time there is a general flood caused by the overflowing of the rivers, the result of torrential rains on the mountains of the 'West. Then the whole countryside becomes like a sea; the villages themselves are all inundated, and travel then by means of boats is very easy.

"I found myself strong enough, on All Saints' Day, to say a private Mass; the day before, the whole village gathered in the church and around the church to congratulate me on my happy recovery. The first of the place, in beautiful festive clothes, came to fetch me and conducted me solemnly to the church, to the sound of music and the noise of many cheers." "You see, dear father, that the Annamese love the Missionaries. All Saints' Day was a real flip side. I had barely gone to bed when someone came to wake me, announcing the arrival of a mandarin and asking me to leave for another village. Although the news I was not very sure, I let myself go and I moved. I was carried with my effects in the middle of the night to the above-mentioned village. This is my first nocturnal escape; since then, I have seen more than one. other.

I stayed eight days in the house of a worthy Christian who treated me wonderfully; and, to show him my gratitude, I gave the whole family a large distribution of rosaries and medals. I then went to another college located in the village of Hoàng-Nguyên, where Mr. Castex has his main residence. M. Castex was in charge of the administration of the Christianity and did not return until December. I therefore remained the only European in the college at the head of which is an Annamese Father. It was in this place that I began to confess, first the students, then the Christians; but I did little work there, for I fell ill again with a disease of the chest which put me in a very alarming state of languor.

"M. Castex returned accompanied by another colleague, M. Titaud; then another also came to join us, M. Néron, and we found ourselves four Missionaries. You can judge what celebrations! what joy! what abandonment! After a few days of mutual rejoicing, M. Titaud went back to his district. Some time later, M. Néron set about returning to the college of Vinh-Tri, of which he is superior; but this dear colleague was caught while descending the river, and he left. It was a matter of nothing that we had a new martyr. By a special Providence, a soldier who was going to the city to seek reinforcements to lead our confrere met a district chief of his acquaintance who, having seen what it was all about, though he was a pagan, freed the dear prisoner.There was only a fairly large sum of money lost.

"No doubt you want me to talk to you a little more about my health. The European New Year found me going from bad to worse, and I was barely able to receive a visit from the Christendoms coming to wish the Missionaries a happy new year. Monsignor sent me another very skilful doctor, whose medicine did me a little good; but, after his departure, I fell again. M. Castex took unimaginable care of me. , and had great anxiety and concern for me. I had to stop confessing, saying Holy Mass, reciting the breviary, reading and even talking. Finally M. Castex advised me to do a novena to the Holy Hearts of Jesus, of Mary and Joseph, and wanted to do it with me. We began the day of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin: from then on I felt rejuvenated, and since then my strength has returned quite well. Long live the Holy Hearts of Jesus, of Mary, of Joseph!

“In the meantime the horizon darkens; political and rebel parties have formed in the Tong-King; a new edict from the king has appeared pursuing religion, ill-intentioned people have denounced to the mandarins the residences of Europeans; Ké-Vînh college has been dispersed; Bishop Retord has fled and is secretly hiding with several Missionaries. The mandarin of Ké-Cho, capital city of the Tong-King, has blocked the Major Seminary of Kë-Non, but Mgr Jeantet had fled to the mountains from where he wrote to Mr. Castex and me: I went to visit my old lairs where I lived during the persecution of King Minh-Menh. my age to climb the rocks; it is truly marvelous that I do not succumb.—The mandarin took only an Annamese Father and a deacon whom he even released some time later, having consented to receive money, an enormous sum indeed, almost ten thousand francs; but at least the establishment of Ke-Non is standing.

As for M. Castex and I, after having run to three or four places, we ended up going to hide in a corner of a nuns' house in the village of Bùt-Dông, where we have been living as real recluses with two catechists since then. more than a month. We plan to put our noses back in the air soon, as the storm seems to be dissipating. Nevertheless, one must be careful: for the informant of Bishop Jeantet, having missed his mark, promised his own head to the mandarin, if in three months he did not deliver a European. "So everyone keeps to the secret." What will happen? God knows; in any case, it is better to hope than to fear, and, as Bishop Retord writes to us: Jesus and Mary will not abandon us any more than in the past. So let's pray a little hard, and have good confidence, let's not be discouraged or downcast by sadness, and then if any of us grabs the crown of martyrdom, nothing better. "Sicut fuerit voluntas tua, sic fiet."

“The rebellion continues to organize itself; it wants to re-establish on the throne the descendant of an ancient dynasty, it is even said that the new king will soon appear. On the other hand, misery is great; the harvest of rice was bad last year: this year it is lost in many places; there are a crowd of people who suffer from hunger. It is a thing well worthy of compassion; in Europe, one has no idea of the public misery of this poor country. The celebrations of the first of the Annamese year, usually so joyous, passed this year rather sadly, and it is not probable that the rest of the year will see better days.

“I stop here, dear and beloved father. Farewell! Do not worry about me: What God keeps is well kept! Be well! May the joy of the Lord Jesus fill your heart!!”

The Missionary had only said a word to his father about his relations with the Christians; he filled this gap by writing to his brothers and his sister: "You would like to be a little bird, dear sister, and come and flutter around me to see how I get on in the midst of my Christians. Oh! relations with them are very easy; the Annamites are good, and they have a very great respect for the Missionaries. Until now, I have not been able to do the administration of the Christendoms because of the present political circumstances of the country. , and also because I am not very learned in the language; but nevertheless, when I was alone, very often the chiefs of the Christendoms came to see me to greet me and bring me some little present. I could only say a few unintelligible words to them, which made them want to laugh, but they were careful not to, for fear of hurting me. who married one of his children and came to bring me the head e of the pig that had been killed for the feast; it was some good mother who had come to recommend her son to me when he was leaving for the army; it was four or five poor women who had clubbed together to come and offer me a little basket of fruit, and ask me for a rosary or a cross, etc., etc. I could only answer a few words, and yet my people retired happy.

"It is the custom of the Annamites that an inferior never presents himself before any superior whatsoever, without offering some present. Missionary for the pleasure of offering them to him. So I assure you, Mélanie, that I love the Annamites very much, and that I thank God for having sent me to consecrate my life to their service. Do not, however, imagine that everything here be roses; there are also great number of thorns.

"One more word on the Tong-Kinoise nuns _t because you specifically ask for it. They are united in community under the authority of an abbess, but they make no vows: this is why they can be received very young. They work the fields, or else they prepare cotton cloth, or else they go and sell pills, which makes it easier for them to administer baptism to the children of infidels in danger of death. They live in poverty, recite many prayers, give themselves discipline, fast more than simple Christians. If need be, they are excellent couriers for carrying letters, which is not at all shocking in the mores of the country; so they go two by two. They also carry the effects of Mission, which is often very painful; but they are made for fatigue, like all Annamese women; Christians call them Sisters."

To his brother Eusèbe: "It is a pleasant thing to hear the prayer of the Tongkinese, when they go well together; it is a harmony that touches me more than the harmony of the most beautiful music in Europe I very much like the solemn chanting of the Litanies of the Blessed Virgin, especially the Litanies of her Holy and Immaculate Heart. But the thanksgiving after Communion is the most touching thing when I hear it. ", I am very moved. The Annamites do not know how to pray in a low voice; and even when there is only one person who has received communion, she nevertheless makes her thanksgiving aloud, either alone or with help. people in charge of singing. The catechists also know how to sing a little plainsong, and sometimes they sing high mass; but then there is always the music of the village which accompanies it. It consists of a few bad violins, harps, oboes , drums and cymbals.The Annamese are not rich in musical airs, and from the beginning t of the Mass until the end, it is little more than the same tune repeated ad infinitum. God is perhaps no less well praised for it than if it were the most beautiful harmony executed by the most skilful artists. It is the harmony of the heart more than any vibration of the strings that pleases God.

"And the Latin students, are they very learned? It is difficult for them to be, having no dictionary. At the end of their studies, they understand the Catechism of the Council of Trent by reading; for some years Bishop Retord has instituted a class in philosophy, and it is given in Latin. You can easily imagine that there is no need to teach Ovid, Horace and the beautiful Mythology to the Tong-Kinois: this is why the controversy of the classics is judged by here.”

To give an idea of ​​the simplicity and naivety of the Annamese people, we also quote a passage from a letter from Théophane to an old friend: "I am sure that the first marriage you blessed did not have a ceremony like the one which I blessed. At the Tong-King, this is done quite simply: there is not a procession to lead the bride and groom as in France. At the Tong-King one receives the Sacrament of Marriage like the Sacrament of the Eucharist, without more solemnity. So, my two fiancés having gone to confession and having prepared themselves to receive the Sacrament of Matrimony, on the appointed day I go out very early in the morning to say Mass in the assembly of Christians, for, at the Tong- King, Mass is being said very early. My catechist invites the betrothed, both eighteen years old, to come up to the altar: the young girl is coming up, and where is the betrothed? does not appear. So the young girl is invited to retire and return the next day. The next day the young man does not fail, I b bless marriage. During the day, the two newlyweds, led by the sister of the bride, came to greet me and thank me. I asked why the groom had not come the day before, he replied that he had not woken up in time to come to church. "

We now resume the rest of the story. These new details are provided to us by another letter from Théophane, dated September 1855:

To my Father, my sister Mélanie, my Brothers and my Friends.

"From the depths of the Tong-King, I send greetings in the Lord!" interest, my beloved?" "It has pleased Divine Providence to deprive me of the health which it had bestowed on me some time before; I fell back a few days after writing to you.

On Holy Wednesday, I went to see M. Castex, provicar of the Mission, who was at the college of Noàng-Nguyên; the way was only a quarter of a league, but the road was full of mud and water. I was hot, then cold; since then, my condition has been getting worse. I also had to avoid Mandarin several times, sometimes alone, sometimes with my colleague, which didn't help, you can imagine, to cure me. The people around me despaired of my life, we were making preparations for the funeral; but now the good Lord, who leads to and from the gates of the tomb, sent me a good doctor who gave me good medicine, and I reappeared on the horizon of life, joyful and full of joy. 'hope. I received Extreme Unction twice, in two different circumstances; and each time the sacrament of the Church, by strengthening my soul, has also raised up my sick and dying body. I am currently in the community of Kê-Vînh, where Bishop Retord resides, who called me there to complete my healing; it may be difficult, as it seems that I have a chronic catarrh which even has already ravaged the left lung. I don't know exactly, but I think that's it: because when I sweat, the left part of my face, especially my forehead, streams, and the right part has no sweat; furthermore, the hair on the left side of the head is always damp, and the hair on the right side is dry. This summer, the left part of the face was worked with nails; but he didn't push a single one into the right side. In the evening or in the morning, I often have chest tightness, like a kind of asthma; and almost every morning I sneeze a lot, I blow my nose, I spit, which sometimes prevents me from saying holy mass, when my nose is difficult to compose. I have a good appetite and I eat well, which allows me to continue my little daily studies. Do not be distressed, my dear friends, that I am ill; but pray for me, so that I profit from this ordeal and know how to turn the evil of my body to the spiritual good of my soul. Enough about my precious person."

The poor Missionary's health was badly affected; however, he did not quite say the word, leaving it to be guessed at; but Mr. Theurel. his friend, who saw him dying little by little, writing to M. Dallet, said on this subject with sadness: M. Vénard, who did not feel the strength to write a letter, nevertheless wanted to address you a few lines , but this is his last effort: this poor friend has been ill almost since his arrival at the Tong-King; he is very weak, has already received Extreme Unction twice, and he is not sure that he will recover in such a way as to work a lot. It's not for me to tell you how sad that is.

Finally, M. Vénard himself, on this note of which M. Theurel speaks, seemed to say the last farewell to his friend from the Indies: hair. I'm pretty much abandoned by the doctors. Long live the joy anyway! This may be the last word you will receive from me. Pray for me so that, if the body perishes, at least the soul is saved. May Jesus and Mary protect you! We will see each other in the homeland! Farewell ! “We resume his letter of September 1855:

"The turmoil seemed to become terrible at the beginning; thank God, it did not realize our forecasts. It was our purses that suffered the most, we had to shut the mouths of the mandarins with silver bars. We can well to say that our Christendoms, already so poor, have bled themselves in order to satisfy the rapacity of the pagans. Oh! how little the devil inspires feelings of humanity and pity! For look, dear friends, this poor Annamite people always overwhelmed with plagues: every year there is a flood or a drought; almost never does a complete harvest arrive in the granaries. A bowl of rice is all the happiness and good fortune of the Annamite people, and it does not often have it at will throughout the year. However, Messrs. the Mandarins, who are supposedly the fathers of the people, only occupy themselves with harassing it, plundering it, sucking it like big leeches; in truth, there are hardly any honest people in the Mandarin class.above all, they provide them with a fine boon, those whose religion the king proscribes and who are sensible rebels and traitors. From the masters of the villages to the great mandarins of the provinces, all the dignitaries want to have their share of the spoils: there are some honorable exceptions, but they are few. Often too, in a village that is part Christian, part pagan, Christians are held to ransom for freedom of conscience. O greed! O thirst for gold and silver! how exacting you are and how much you cause harm to our poor Christians and embarrassment to the Missionaries! But I don't want to curse our persecutors; may God deign to enlighten their hearts and lead them to know his holy law and lead them to salvation!

This year, therefore, we have no martyrs. I only heard of a sub-prefectural mandarin who imprisoned a doctor and his two brothers; I know this doctor well, he is very pious and very fervent. During the persecution of King Minh-Menh, he had already confessed the faith; at present he is still very firm, and it is to be hoped that this affair will turn only to the glory of God and the shame of the Mandarin.

Although the persecution is not flagrant, the result of this year, for the administration of the sacraments and the movement of preaching, will be very weak: because before resuming one's ease and one's free elbows, one must let one's spirits rest; it is only little by little that the rat comes out of its hole and goes into the field. Thanks to the benevolence of the grand mandarin of the province where the community of Ké Vînh is located, and thanks to a few small bars of silver, Bishop Retord was able to return to his main residence. The great affair of Ké-Non, following which the venerable Mgr Jeantet had been forced to flee, this affair is pacified, and His Grace has returned to direct the Major Seminary as usual. It is thus that after the storm comes calm, and that the Lord knows how to grant to his own all protection and all help, so that the wicked do not dominate and do not take advantage of their forces.

"Since the month of January, I have not heard from you, I long to hear from you and to know if you are all well. May the good God and the Blessed Virgin keep you always, dear and venerable father. "And you too, good sister, and you, dear Henri, and you, brother the abbé! May joy and happiness be with you!"

On December 1855, XNUMX, the Missionary sent a new dispatch addressed to his sister; he said there that his health was less bad, that his left side had again become almost as strong as the right side, and he invited his friends to thank God, the Blessed Virgin and Saint Joseph for this precious and at first unexpected favour. Calm, which had been disturbed for a moment, was somewhat restored, and the Missionaries, tired of waiting in vain for freedom, had thought of taking it themselves, at least in one part of the Mission, that where the community of Ke-Vinh. So that now, writes Théophane, our pupils study as usual, Monsignor can govern quite quietly and even officiate pontifically on days of great feasts, and we can in broad daylight go for walks as we please in all the length and breadth of the garden cultivated by the students, a favor of which perhaps you do not feel the full value, but which you would doubtless understand better, if for a few months you had been condemned to keep the room, without being able to sing or speak too loudly . Then the Missionary speaks thus of a kind of attempt by the English: Recently people's minds were stirred by the appearance of an English warship at Touranne, near the capital of the kingdom, in Cochin China. The Governor-General of Hong-Kong and Plenipotentiary of Her Majesty Victoria has come to propose, no doubt, a treaty of commerce to Tù-Dùc, the Annamese king; the latter did not want to receive the dispatches, so that the English withdrew without doing anything, which is vulgarly called, I believe, breaking one's nose. Now from this there resulted an edict of surveillance with regard to the disciples of Jesus, because it was imagined that they themselves had called the English. We will see later that the appearances of the French did even more harm.

Finally, after saying that for a year the poor Missionaries of the Tong-King had received no news from Europe, the good Theophane ended thus: "Pray for me, dear sister, that I may be a worthy priest of Jesus- Christ, and that I conduct myself, in the station in which I am, with all due prudence and wisdom. For me, I pray daily for you. Remember Theophanes!"

chapter eleven

State of minds in Tong-King in 1856. — The Flood. — A singular medical operation. — blockades and leaks. — death of M. Castex, provicar. — French Embassy

in 1837. — fine considerations. — management. — more intimate details.

Our dear Missionaries, who complained with so much bitterness of not receiving any news from their homeland, seemed to understand that serious events were then taking place in Europe: in fact, in the year 1855, two facts very important events filled the world: the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception and the Crimean War, one by its splendid festivals organized spontaneously by the piety of the faithful, in honor of Mary, and the other by the bravery of our soldiers fighting in a distant land. Also, although for sixteen full months Theophane had received no direct news from his friends in France, learning of these events which rejoiced his heart, he once again put his hand to the pen.

"I learned, he said, through the Missionaries of Cochinchina, that the Holy Father defined the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, and all the feasts that took place throughout the world, especially in the beautiful homeland of France, to celebrate the Queen of heaven and earth, and I wholeheartedly joined in the concerts of congratulations and praises that the whole universe sends to Mary.

I have also learned of the great deeds of our brave men in the East, and I am a little impatient to learn of the capture of Sebastopol. Never has France had a finer cause to defend, and I pray every day for the happy success of her arms. Here too, and throughout the Far East, hearts turn to France, and desire to see her flag flying over pagan lands: for there are also many oppressors in China, Japan, Korea, Cochinchina, Tong King. If the good Lord deigned to open the heart of the Emperor of the French, and make him take pity on Christians oppressed under the yoke of pagan tyrants, the name of Louis-Napoleon would be blessed and acclaimed by a crowd of oppressed poor.

This letter was written on the date of May 5, 1856; here is what was then in the Tong-King the state of mind: "Since my last letter, written at the end of the year 1855, says the Missionary, the persecution has made a noble victim: one of our priests, named Huông, was taken and crowned with martyrdom in recent days. This did not prevent Bishop Retord from sending his Missionaries to do the administration during Lent; and, thanks to the protection of Mary, we have not had serious disasters , and we did not have to take more precautions to hide ourselves than in ordinary times. As far as I am concerned, I accompanied His Lordship in the visit of two parishes where the work was like a rolling fire His Majesty came to celebrate the feasts of Holy Week, at the same place where I was ill last year, at this time; everything took place quite peacefully, as far as one can call our position peace. in this country.

You may find it difficult to understand how, keeping us hidden, constantly on the alert and on the alert, and our heads being put at a price with money, we can hold feasts and talk of peace. I myself do not understand it very well; however, a short word explains everything, namely: that the good God watches over his own, and that the Blessed Virgin Mary protects us. Besides, if we and our Christians succeed in taking a few hours of freedom, it is very little compared to the circle of vexations and constraint in which we have to live; and you know that when the rats venture out to sea, it's for a short time, and they quickly get back to their holes. We play cat's claw too, we play it daring, but we're careful, and we walk with our heads high only after we've looked all around us to make sure the bad guys aren't there. are not. "

It was after having fasted from letters from Europe for a long fast of nineteen months, that the poor Missionary received directly, by way of the Chinese ships, news of those whom he still loved on the land of France. He replied almost immediately in a general letter, saying a word to each.

After having answered the letters of his friends, the Missionary continues his particular little story, adding to it the account of the events which had taken place at the Tong-King since his last letter:

"My last dispatch," he said, "sent around Easter this year, announced to you a great improvement in my health: this improvement gradually diminished during the tropical heat of summer, and warmed me so much the my body was as if under the action of a small continual fever which did not constitute an illness properly so called.

"On Saint Peter's Day, Bishop Retord summoned all his Missionaries to him and to his coadjutor, Bishop Jeantet, at the college of Ké-Vînh. We made a common retreat and spent a fortnight in the most peaceful delicious, in spite of the mandarins whose spies prowled about, we sang many hymns and songs of France, and thus took, in the communications of friendship, a little vacation, it seems, quite legitimate. separate us, letters from our colleagues in Cochinchina came to crown our little celebrations by telling us of the magnificent successes of the allied armies, the peace of Europe, the birth of a son to the Emperor, and the most consoling details on the feasts of the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, and the jubilation of the peoples on the occasion of this event so long desired; and finally, the Mission given by the Emperor to M. de Montigny, new Minister Plenipotentiary in China, from neg Effectively associate with the Annamese king, in order to put an end to the tyrannical oppression which weighs on the Christians of this country and on the French Missionaries whose innocent blood this cruel king, worthy son of his fathers, shed.

We then prepared to disperse and go each to our district; already three confreres out of eight that we were, plus their two greatnesses, had taken leave of the others, when a terrible flood arrived, such as in old man's memory there has not yet been the like in the country, and detained us. captives where we were. The flood lasted a great month, and the waters covered four large provinces, after breaking the dykes of rivers in many places. The newly sown rice was completely wasted; that of the last harvest was submerged and largely rotted; several villages have been annihilated and thousands of people have lost their lives: there is an innumerable number of houses, wooden houses covered with straw, which have been knocked down, or at least have lost their earthen walls. Those who dwell near the mountains have gone there to seek a place of refuge; others fled with what they were able to carry, on the still intact part of the dykes where they had no shelter and almost no food; most of the flooded had to keep their homes and struggle against the action of the ever-rising waters. It was necessary to continually raise the few boards which constitute the floor of the house, and, in a large number of cases, from floor to floor, one went up to the roof, which then had to be drilled in order to be able to receive the roof. outside air.

In places accustomed to the little inundation of each year, we have been able to manage quite well with the boats which we usually provide; but how many places devoid of boats! And in that case, judge what a painful existence! what sufferings for these unfortunates! I am not speaking of the domestic animals of which a large number have succumbed, nor of the trees of which many species cannot bear to be bathed in water and have perished. By dint of continuous work day and night, our students managed to build dykes and secure the church and a small patch of land where we went to take refuge, the water having reached the house of Monseigneur. "

Mr. Vénard thus ends his letter by speaking of his health: "It was in the meantime that I fell ill with a violent fever with nervous twitching and attacks of asthma, and it was in one of the worst fits more burning than your letters came gently to refresh me, as the morning dew raises the sunken and withered plant; and do not take my words for a mere figure, for verily, by reading your letters, the joy I felt internally reacted on my body, and the fit of fever subsided a lot. However, the Annamese medicines still lifted me up; but as I was doing everything joyfully and beautifully, a good convalescence, a typhoid fever brought me down again. , and put me once again face to face with the door of the other life; and yet I did not enter, since it is indeed from this world that I am writing this to you. Bishop Retord and my confreres said each a Mass to Saint Peter of Alcantara at whom, says Saint Thérèse, n is refused in heaven, and under whose protection it is therefore good to place oneself. It follows from all this mic-mac of fevers that I find myself still on my two legs, a little weak, but having a good appetite. There is only a little asthma that comes every morning to wake me up too early, which delays my recovery. My left side isn't so bad anymore; and since the good Lord has kept me so far, there is probable hope that his Providence will keep me a little longer. I ask him to also deign to keep you all."

After these last details that the dear Missionary gave about his health, everyone in France apprehended painful news at every moment; This was wrong: the following letter, dated June 1857, announced an almost complete cure:

"First of all, I tell myself that you are impatient, dear and revered father, as well as my good Mélanie, and my good brothers and my friends, to know where I am in my health. Now, see, by the lines that I have just drawn, that it is not the hand of a dying person who holds the pen; on the contrary, it is the hand of a living person who proposes to fill the four pages of this letter with the best spirit in the world.—So I am cured, strong and robust, will you say? Oh, not so quickly in the work; but the strength is gradually returning, and there is hope that the best will continue. For example, Suppose death were like a fortress, a Sevastopol to be destroyed. Well! I will tell you that the trenches are far advanced and that my batteries are doing terrible damage instead. I even like to believe that I have taken Malakoff. by storm.—But, you will ask, how have I come to such a happy result?—Here it is:

"At the end of the year 1856, I had become pronounced consumptive and asthmatic, with no hope of recovery other than a general resurrection; so I took the advice of Monsignor Retord, and I decided to undergo a very delicate, which Chinese medicine uses only in cases of extreme illness. I will call this operation cauterization; in Annamese it is said Pyep-Quêuou; it consists in burning small balls of a certain grass a little similar to the absinthe, in certain parts of the body.

In the human body, there are 369 points where one can burn according to the different diseases. Your eyes hurt, you will be burned in a small spot which you have to look for between your thumb and forefinger; as well as other diseases. The difficult point is to find just the place where it is appropriate to burn: because if the operator is mistaken, he can cripple, make a man lame, blind, put his jaw askew, etc. At this preamble, do not be in a hurry to smile and cry superstition, because I am talking about things that are perfectly proven and which I have witnessed several times; finally, I myself was patient in the hot seat.

"Now then, my illness was not one that is easy to treat, and if one resolves oneself to the operation, it is not a question of burning a few dozen pellets only, but many hundreds The places where you have to burn are called huyet, pits; there are pits that require one to be seated in order to burn efficiently; for others we go to bed; for these, you have to squat on your heels; for those to stand up; and when you have taken this or that position, take care not to move before the end of the operation, but arm yourself with your great virtue of patience to suffer the fire of this little purgatory as long as the Aesculapius deem it expedient. Generally, to find the pits, we take as a measure the length of the second joint of the middle finger of the left hand, and. placing a flexible ruler at such a point of your body, directing it in such a direction which varies according to the disease, one counts on this ruler a certain number of joints according to the books indicate; sometimes it is necessary to take the width of the closed mouth; finally there are a host of small precautions which it would take too long to enumerate here.

As for me, I was cauterized or burned with pellets on the top of my head, in four places beside the shoulder blades, opposite the birth of the lungs; below, in six places; along the spine, a little to the side, at the bottom of the throat, very close to the bone, in the middle of the chest, on the stomach, below the knees, on the feet and under the feet, in about 500 dumplings, of which just under 200 at the birth of the lungs. When one has burned, at the end of a few days, the pits reject the morbid principle by a little yellowish pus; but when no pus forms, the operation is aborted and more injurious than useful. For me, there are pits that have succeeded, and that is the greatest number; only a few remained without pus.

"Here then, dear father, is where I am with my health: on the right track, however still a little shaky. The future is in the hands of God, who knows how to distribute to each what is appropriate: illness and health, good and evil. Of course, nature sometimes has a great desire to complain and to murmur, and it is certainly not she who chooses all these crosses and these crucifixions; but we are here below only to fight against instincts. unreasonableness of this fallen nature, and make us worthy, by a noble struggle, of an honorable reward.

“After speaking to you about my illnesses, it seems to have said everything about me: because being sick is my whole life. (Msgr. Retord said of our Missionary, in the month of June 1857: M. Vénard seems to have chosen sufferings for his specialty) — However, I will add a few details to make my letter longer, and these details will only say desolate and sad things, blockades, persecutions, escapes and deaths .

I was with Bishop Retord and one of my colleagues, M. Charbonnier, at the community of Ké-Vînh, when, on February XNUMX, at eight o'clock in the morning, we were told that the mandarin of the sub-prefecture had the village. Immediately Monseigneur was taken to an underground hiding place, and M. Charbonnier and I were stuck in a wall, where we stayed for four hours without daylight. At the end of this time, we are informed that the mandarin has left, taking with him the director of the college, a venerable priest, called Tinh, one of his catechists, and the mayor and deputy of the village. Why then, you will say, has this importunate mandarin gone so suddenly to disturb your security? — It is because, in a neighboring province, the Grand Mandarins, having arrested a certain number of Christians, forced them, by dint of beatings with sticks, to make compromising declarations on the place of residence of the heads of religion, in particular on Ké-Vinh; and besides, a poor woman, who was carrying several European letters to a Missionary, allowed these letters to be seized, and when questioned, she declared that they had been delivered to her in the village of Kê-Vînh. This is why the grand mandarins of our province, informed by the grand mandarins of the neighboring province, that this village of Ké-Vînh was a haven for Europeans and religious leaders, had sent the sub-prefect to the home visit I mentioned.

But this is only the beginning of a series of evils: for, on the following March 2, the general of division who commands the troops of the province and the mandarin of criminal justice came in person with two hundred armed soldiers rifles, axes, spears, hammers and cannons to pillage our dear Community, to tear down the village church and the college church; but Europeans, Annamese priests and catechists, they took no one, because we had received the news of their arrival, and we had decamped with arms and baggage, without drum or trumpet however. The day after the disaster, we returned to the lodge, where we found only ruins; and as the surroundings were filled with spies, we had to resolve to leave the place again; Bishop Retord and Mr. Charbonnier went into hiding in the mountains, and I went secretly by boat to the college of Hoàng-Nghuyên, where I had already resided for the two previous years, in the company of Mr. Castex. , provicar of the Mission.

This venerable colleague was still there with M. Theurel, superior of the college; but he was suffering from this rheumatic disease which, in principle, did not present any danger, and which however ended up getting worse and causing his death. When Mgr Retord learned that the illness of M. le provicaire was of a serious nature, His Grace hastened to descend from the mountains with M. Charbonnier, and came to comfort our dear patient. We prayed and made wishes to ask for his return to health: the Lord decided otherwise than we wanted, and took him from us on Saturday, the eve of the feast of the Holy Trinity, after having purified him by great suffering. It died out gently in our presence, without any painful effort of nature; he slept peacefully in the peace of his God, giving us the perfect example of the death of a righteous man; he died as he had lived, holy. - For me, who have

enjoyed his sweet intimacy for two years, I mourn him as having lost a good friend, and I must arm myself with the greatest courage to console myself for his loss. Bishop Retord gave me the district administered by this beloved confrere, and it is henceforth in this part of the field of the Father of the family that I will have to work for the salvation of souls. May I imitate the virtues of him who preceded me, and grant heaven that my death one day be holy and precious before God like his!

"The good priest Tinh, of whom I spoke, whom the mandarin took and led to the prefecture, there confessed the faith gloriously, and the order arrived from the capital to behead his head, which was carried out on the spot, without the Christians having had time to prepare anything to help him in his last moments. The executioner's saber broke in the execution, which the mandarin considered as a bad omen, and, from the evening, he made pagan sacrifices to appease the ghosts of the victim.The three companions of his captivity also generously confessed the faith, and were condemned to perpetual exile on distant and unhealthy mountains.

A few months later, a pagan canton chief, irritated against Mgr Diaz, Dominican bishop, whose vicariate takes part of the same province where our happy Father Tinh was martyred, denounced him to the grand mandarins of this province, and Her Majesty was seized by them in her residence, in the village of Biù-Chu, and taken to the prefecture, where she is being kept in custody. We are daily awaiting the decree of the king condemning His Majesty to death. — However, the Grand Mandarin got angry with the Christians, and had crosses placed at all the gates of the city, so that everyone, entering or leaving, would trample the cross underfoot. He also had the soldiers make a home visit to all the Christian families in the city. Fortunately the news spread in advance, and our poor Christians largely fled.

In Cochinchina, the state of religious affairs has been in the saddest desolation since the appearance of the French plenipotentiary at Touranne. In one of my previous letters, I announced to you that the Emperor was sending a Minister Plenipotentiary to treat and defend the cause of the Annamese Christians and to demand an account of the violation of the ancient treaties made by the King of this country with France. But the Grand Plenipotentiary of France, M. de Montigny, who, in truth, is entirely devoted to us, only appeared with a corvette and two small steamers and without real power to negotiate. Also, what happened? The Annamese king refused to hear anything, and our French were obliged to shamefully weigh anchor and change tack; and throughout the country, Christians and pagans, who, at the arrival of the ships, clapped their hands and rejoiced at the thought that their tyrant king would be flushed out, seeing our Frenchmen produce no

nothing less than marvels, have ended up making fun of them and despising them, and the shame has in part remained with us, with us, poor Missionaries, who are from the noble kingdom of France. These aborted and petty expeditions no longer belong to France whose heart is so generous: if France does something in front of the world, she must do it greatly, suitably to her character. Nevertheless, all hope is not lost, since the war with China brings considerable forces to our seas, and we hope that the sovereign of France will take our cause into commiseration and will send his representatives to these distant shores to resume the sublime role of defender of the weak and avenger of the oppressed.

Bishop Retord, in a long letter inserted in the Annales, judges the French intervention of 1857 in the same way as our Missionary, and he pauses for a moment to enumerate the evils of all kinds which arrived as a result of this expedition for all the Annamese Christian communities, and in particular for those of the Western Tong-King. We will not transcribe these details also given by Theophanes. We will even pass over in silence some considerations full of truth and light addressed by the latter to M. Dallet; there are some somewhat harsh words and perhaps deserved reproaches which it would doubtless be very inopportune to reproduce. Let us just explain how our French agents, forced to withdraw, were the cause, without wanting to, of the misfortunes which followed their temporary appearance:

M. de Montigny, writes the Missionary, having to yield to circumstances, but saddened at not being able to be of use to us as much as his heart would have desired, wished at least to cover us with a cloak of protection, and declared to the king that he would have to account for the blood he would have shed as a result of the passing ships.

The intention was good, but see how the Annamese king makes fun of the French: Considering the interest that the plenipotentiary took in the Christians, the king concluded that they themselves had called him. Our brave compatriots therefore left us, without any help, in the claws of the tiger, after having angered it very much against us. Among other facts, a Christian mandarin was seized with about thirty neophytes; after having subjected him to horrible tortures, before having his head cut off, he was paraded through the streets of the capital, and in each square a mandarin cried out the sentence, following which the holy confessor received thirty strokes of a stick. . In this sentence, the Christian religion and Our Lord were insulted, for it was said: The Christians say: Those who suffer from such tortures go to paradise after death; who knows that? Foolish Christians who suffer torture and death! Where is Jesus who does not come to help them? Jesus, adds our pious Missionary, heard this challenge and remembers it. Yes, I have the firm confidence that Jesus will help us and avenge the honor of his name.

After the death of Mr. Castex, Mr. Vénard had to reside in the village of Hoàng-Nghuyén, where Bishop Retord had also founded a college under the direction of Mr. Theurel. The two friends were therefore once again reunited, to the great satisfaction of both. Now it was not possible that they could enjoy this sweet and invaluable intimacy so favorably without sharing their happiness with their common brother in India; it was M. Venard who took charge of it. "So we see each other often," he said, "or rather I have remained in the company of this good friend almost continuously since I have been installed in the district. Now, to see each other and not talk, is that possible? Yes, we make talks and considerations and plans of it, we get along well, and it will take the genius of discord to be very skilful to succeed in quarreling us. my district. Then, coming to speak of the conversion of the pagans, which he declares almost impossible in the state of incessant persecution which prevents the Missionaries from communicating with them, he adds with an accent of sadness and deep conviction these considerations :

"I sometimes say to myself: Does the grace of the good God not produce an effect as it once did? Has the time for the conversion of the Gentiles passed? Or are we, Missionaries of the At the present time, are we not worth our predecessors? I know well that I am not worth them; but, among my confreres, a great number are filled with the spirit of faith and zeal, and yet conversions are rare; and of those that are made, many do not remain stable and lasting. Oh, how sad it is to look around and see only pagan villages, only the roofs of pagodas, to hear only the sound of bells of the bonzes, to see only diabolical ceremonies appear in public! For the religion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, it must bow its humiliated brow before Confucius and Buddha; its ministers hide, their heads are prizes, and mandarins and peoples vex his worshipers to who better. drunkenness will not rise soon?

"In this Annamese kingdom, the persecution, such as it is, does immense harm; the edicts are very cruel, but they are only half executed, thanks to the considerable sums of money with which one pays for one's faith. and the mandarins love this persecution of money which enriches them, and it is only when they are forced by circumstances, that they rage according to the letter of the edicts. consequently harassed and tired, and seek by all kinds of ruses to dodge the action of the mandarins small and large, without for that faith growing stronger: on the contrary, it languishes. blood is strong and vigorous and produces fruit, but faith kept with money is weak and fruitless.

If at least money gave peace, then the Apostolic Vicars, the Missionaries, the native priests could work the holy vineyard with freedom; necessary reforms would take place, the old laws would be brought back into force, one could calculate one's operations. But this persecution half cuts off the arms of the apostolic workers; you lack the foundation, the basis to establish your businesses, you are always on the alert; today you are setting up a church, a college: after a few years you will have to throw everything down and run away.

Sometimes we remain in peace for a while, paying the mandarins; comes another mandarin who does not hear with the same ear or who asks too much: here is your building, built with so much pain, which is collapsing...

“Everyone casts their eyes towards France and calls for its intervention; if France, in the person of its Emperor, listens to the cry of the Annamese Christians and brings them effective help, our churches will come back to life; if not, a miracle of the goodness and divine power to support them; and without a doubt we must hope for this miracle and we must ask for it even more than the intervention of France, but it is no less true that our current situation is sad and distressing. .

“For my part, I base my hopes for the future on Mary Immaculate, and I believe that it is from her that the lightning will go that will strike down the idols of the world. I have seen the stories of the brilliant feasts that the proclamation of this blessed dogma has aroused in Europe. I have united my heart to it; but alas! how far we are from such jubilation! Under the blow of oppression and despotism, we rather resemble the Jewish captives singing Super flumina Babylonis, in remembrance of the feasts and rejoicings of the Holy Church, like them in remembrance of the feasts of the temple of Solomon. I regard this solemn proclamation as the rainbow announcing the end of our storms, and I love to believe that extraordinary graces are going to be given to the world by Mary Immaculate: this is why I have placed myself under the protection of her standard, me, mine and all my undertakings."

Finally, under the influence of his pain, our poor Missionary ends his letter to his friend thus: And you, Father Dallet, write to us, talk to us about India and about yourself. If you have joys, we will rejoice with you; if you have sorrows, crosses, setbacks, disappointments, and you have some, tell us, we will pray for you, we will send you some words of friendship to console you. Long live joy always!

"Please accept these lines that my mind sends on the paper as the flight of a pen. You will perhaps find that I have forgotten French, that my ideas follow each other poorly, and other things: what do you want? Illness has pressured, my poor body is roughly handled, the spirit feels a little; but the heart towards you, it is always the same.

M. Vénard, having received the government of a district, hastened to watch with zeal and solicitude for the salvation of the souls entrusted to him. —In September 1857, writing to his sister, he wanted to introduce her to his work and talk to her about his life in the midst of his Christians:

"My dear sister, my last letter must have informed you that, thank God, my little health had improved, and that Bishop Retord had entrusted me with the administration of a district. I therefore now have a family and a large family, a family of Christians, a family of pagans. The Christians number about 12, distributed in four parishes governed by six to seven native priests as parish priests or vicars. Your brother's function is to go from parish to parish, from Christendom to Christendom, keeping an eye on everything to see if nothing is wrong, restoring peace where there is disunity; giving dispensations, if necessary; administering by a special power the sacrament of confirmation in place of the Apostolic Vicar, who cannot visit the whole Vicariate; give retreats, if this is opportune; carry out the mission so that the wicked are converted; in a word, to maintain a living and pure faith and to increase in hearts the love of the good Lord.

"As for the pagans, I do not know the number, I estimate about 250 to 300 thousand; you can think that a dozen Saint Francis-Xaviers would not be too much to bring all these people to the Gospel For the moment, it is difficult for us to have action on the pagans, because of the persecution which obliges us to hide ourselves; nevertheless from time to time it is given to us to collect some souls; these past days, we 'brought a little newborn pagan child about to breathe his last; his mother, a young widow of twenty-one, was in the deepest misery: for twelve days she had eaten only five times; also she was pitifully thin. I entrusted this poor pagan, with her child whom I baptized, to a good Christian, giving her some money to provide for her first needs; in a few months I hope to baptize her when she will be sufficiently educated and that she will have demonstrated good behavior.

"After the feast of the Assumption, I went to visit a Christendom of about 200 souls scattered among the pagans, and very close to the mandarin's residence. No European had ever been there: so I had to keep perfectly in secrecy, as much as possible. But the children to whom I gave the confirmation detected me in the public, saying that there was a European, very small, with very white skin and very pretty: because it is necessary that you know, my sister, that we Europeans pass for being the type of beauty, and the one who is brown in Europe becomes very white here in front of these poor people burned by the tropical sun. In this instance I put my trust in Mary, and labored to clear the Lord's vineyard day and night for a week. , knowing the presence of a European, frequently came from to ask to see him, which was not granted to them.

The job done, I left very secretly under cover of the darkness, and went to a safer place, that is to say, to my habitual residence in an entirely Christian village, from 4 to 500 souls, of which all the part neighborhood is Christian, part consists of pagan villages which are not hostile to religion. My comings and goings are therefore easy, especially in this season, during which all the surroundings are flooded for four or five months of the year. The country becomes an immense sea dotted with verdant villages: no more roads, you have to use boats to travel; but here the boats abound, there are large ones, there are medium-sized ones, there are small ones, so small that only one person can fit in them; these boats are woven in bamboo and very light. I too have my little boat, and every evening you would be very surprised if you saw your brother sitting cross-legged in his little boat, dexterously maneuvering two small paddles like oars and going to sniff the air. time in the watery countryside surrounding the village. There he meets people who come and go, some of whom follow him; we challenge ourselves to who will row the fastest, challenges where your brother is always the loser, of course. I go to see people up to their houses, which gives them great pleasure.

"This year and last year, the flood was extraordinary: the water entered my house a foot: I saw fish, toads, frogs, crabs, snakes take their antics in my room, me installed on a few planks, three or four centimeters above them. You shudder, my sister; which is much worse, the rats have come to sleep with me on my mat, even that I had the misfortune to smashed one, one night. The villain gave me a nice jiggle, but he saved me from great danger, namely, he helped me discover a black and white striped viper, which was silently climbed up on my bed and had taken hospitality under a corner of my mat, where I stretched out my feet. So don't blame the poor rat too much.

“However, I have resolved to raise my house a few feet, in order to avoid the company of such guests. Raise my house! You exclaim at this word. two or three feet, inside, outside my house, and I will invite a hundred Christians to come and help with their hands and their shoulders to remove the above-mentioned house and place it on its raised foundation. you must know, dear sister, that my house, like most Annamese houses, is quite simply a few wooden columns linked together by a bamboo trellis coated with a coating of mud, itself covered with a light coat of whitewash, to give it a somewhat clean and distinguished air. The house is only ten or fifteen feet high, and its roof is a roof of dry leaves. This whole system, you see, is not not very heavy, and a man's hand can lift it. dation, I will also tell you that I grow a few flowers to distract myself in my moments of leisure, some of which are European flowers and remind me of my homeland, namely a rose bush, balsamines, honeysuckle, rose bushes . "

The holy Missionary ends his letter with a page full of humility: I am convinced, dear Mélanie, that, in your good heart, I pass for a great saint; nevertheless, you are mistaken, because I am not even in reality a little saint. Sickness has broken my poor body, and dulled my mind, and lukewarm my heart. I confess my spiritual misery to you, so that you may feel sorry for it and pray for your brother. As hot as the tropical sun is, so cold and icy is my heart. Here there are no beautiful churches, no pompous ceremonies to awaken numbness, to sprinkle with a few drops of piety the dryness of faith.

“Pray then, dear friend, so that the celestial dew descends to moisten the heart of your brother, that the inner spirit is strengthened, that the man of prayer is born, that the life of sacrifice increases, that he who bears the name of Missionary also does works worthy of such a beautiful name. Also requires a little health for him: for if the body falls from fatigue in the middle of the road, how can it be dragged to the end? If the plowman staggers by tracing the furrow, the furrow will be crooked and half dug. Ask the Author for me for all the goods, all the goods that I do not have and that I need, in order to accomplish the work of my life.

Perhaps you would like to know if I would not like some objects of worship or others. If, by chance, you can agree with some pious people to make me a chasuble that goes with the purse and the pall already made, I will thank you very much, and my catechists will be delighted: because they have already said to me: Father , then write to France, that one sends you a rather pretty ornament of mass for the great festivals.

"I come to the conclusion of my letter. I send a kiss full of respect and tenderness to my beloved father; I embrace with love Abbé Eusèbe and dear Henri. I pray the good Lord to fill with his blessings. I cordially greet all my friends. I thank all those who have the kindness to remember me, and I commend myself to their prayers.

And you, dear sister and dear friend, accept all my feelings of perfect brotherly love.

Chapter twelfth

Some details of persecution. — the tortures. — missionaries prosecuted, at the last extremity — blockade of the college of iloang-nghuyen. — Native Christians in the Praetorium. — Mandarins. — death of Monseigneur Retord. — new miseries. —hopes. — the comet of 1858.

A letter from our Missionary, written in the month of May 1858, has not reached us; to follow up on the events and prevent a gap, we are going to have recourse to the information sent, at that time, by Bishop Retord. — The storm was still mounting; and if at times calm seemed to return, it was only to presage greater calamities. What was astonishing was that the spirit and the body of the Missionaries could bear so much misery, without succumbing for a single moment.

"What a position! says Bishop Retord: to always be like the bird on the branch, constantly agitated by a crowd of bad news announcing that spies have seen us, that we are denounced, that the mandarins are coming to block us, and then what a misfortune for the Mission and for the Christians, who will be pillaged and many of whom will be put to death because of us!To spare them this danger, sometimes we go to the rivers to hide ourselves in a few boats, sometimes we retire to our underground passages. , kinds of tombs, where one bury oneself before death. Once, we remained buried there for eight hours, having to breathe only the air communicated by a small tube of bamboo; when we came out, we were all dazed and almost stupid.However, the bodily pains one experiences at these critical moments are nothing compared to the anguish of the soul.

The mandarins' searches were so active that it was almost impossible for anyone not to fall into their hands; a native priest was taken first and led to prison, whence he only came out to go to martyrdom. His companions, taken with him, were condemned to perpetual exile, and among them a little child of ten years old, who, rather than denying Jesus Christ, preferred to suffer the blows of rattan, to abandon his parents and his country, to live in remote and unhealthy deserts, and carry, even to death, the chain of malefactors.

Some time later, another native priest was again taken with a young Christian who was sent into exile, while the first received the palm of martyrdom, and this affair produced disastrous consequences for all Christendom of which they were a part. Then two new edicts of persecution were issued, following which there arose a redoubled zeal and fury among the agents of the government. Not to mention chapels destroyed as a precaution, houses demolished, students dispersed and sums of money lost in redemption, here is what Bishop Retord brings to him on the particular ills of his Missionaries:

"Each of my colleagues, he said, has had his share of personal tribulations. Messrs. Theurel and Vénard, surrounded by a trembling population, alarmed by the incessant comings and goings of the mandarins, went through severe crises for a few days, and were forced to take refuge in the darkest recesses, even to bury themselves underground. he always keeps hidden.—Similar adventure has happened to M. Saiget, who still dares not show himself to anyone.—M. Mathevon, squeezed closer, nearly fell, by chance, into the hands of the wicked; pagans had already seized his catechist and his guide, and would infallibly have taken him himself, if he had not had the good sense to jump on a small attic where some old mats hid him from view. profane.— Monsignor Jeantet had to stop his theology class to come and take shelter under the rocks. ers of the mountains, without knowing yet when he will be able to return to his post. "Finally, we too, Mr. Charbonnier and I, who had stood firm against all the winds in my palace of Yînh-Tri, had to abandon it too to seek refuge against the fury of men, in the shade of the rocks that serve as a retreat for tigers and bears. — Messrs. Galy and Néron, placed at the extremities of the Mission, were less agitated than us, without however enjoying a true peace. And now, in our outcast retreats, the news of some disasters constantly comes to sadden us. The courageous bishop then goes into the detail of some misfortunes which have arrived following excavations in the village of Kim-Bang; then he goes on to recount the horrible refinement of the tortures that the mandarins take pleasure in inflicting on poor Christians to make them fall into apostasy. We will make a summary of these details, because it is not indifferent that we know what our brothers in the faith suffer in these distant countries for the name of Jesus-Christ.

The first torture is that of the cangue, a kind of ladder four to five feet in length, ten to forty pounds in weight, the two sides of which are joined together at a distance of about six inches by four pegs or rungs of iron. The patient's head is passed between the two crosspieces in the middle, and the two uprights weigh on the shoulders. Now, such a piece of furniture to be carried day and night must be extremely inconvenient: the neck and shoulders end up being torn by it; and when the jailers take it into their heads to make it turn right and left, on the living flesh, what pain for the poor Christian!

In the prison, which is a kind of hell, one undergoes the second torture, that of the vines or shackles. These are two pieces of wood in which the feet are caught above the ankle. Now, these hindrances often affect the feet, and the pain is all the greater because no medicine can be applied to it to soften it. What is most unbearable, say those who have been there, are the many bedbugs which are lodged in the cracks of the wood, and feed on the blood of the unfortunate captives. These shackles being immobile, the prisoners are obliged all night to lie down or sit, without being able to move from place to place.

The third torture is that of rattan, and it is used in the most brutal manner. The victims are made to lie on their stomachs, one in a row, when there are several of them, the feet of some tied to the hands of others, all stretched out until the joints are dislocated. When blows are dealt to one of the patients, all of which should cause blood to spurt out, this gives him an involuntary jolt which produces in all the others a general tremor, like the jolt of an electric spark, so that those whom 'one does not strike yet suffers almost as much as one who is struck; and, as a certain interval is put between each blow, it usually takes several hours for all to receive fifty or sixty. Rattan is a flexible rod, the size of a little finger, and about four feet long; the end was split into four parts which were then tied very tightly with a string dipped in glue, which makes it heavier at its end, and prevents it from being crushed when struck.

After the flogging come the pincers, sometimes cold, sometimes reddened by the brazier of a blacksmith who is always there with his bellows, the noise of which alone makes one shudder. One pinches with these pliers a piece of flesh at the thighs of the unfortunate patient lying and bound to the ground, and one tears it from him by a double movement of torsion and sudden and jerky traction; this operation is repeated five or six times on the same individual. The torture of cold pincers is the most painful, but the wound is healed sooner; that of pincers reddened in the fire causes more apprehension, the consequences are also more serious, because the surrounding flesh rots, but its application is more bearable, because the burn surprises and numbs the nerves.

A fifth refinement of tortures is that of the points of nails fixed in a board on which one makes put the confessor of the faith on his knees, for a more or less long time. These sharp points enter his joints and penetrate to the bones; the blood streams, the victim heaves heart-rending sighs, and the mandarins laugh at his contortions, mingling his anguish with blasphemies against Jesus Christ.

Finally, if the patient has held firm against all torments, the sixth torture is employed, which consists in carrying him to the cross by the two ends of his cangue, while his feet are pulled and beaten. with blows of rattan to force him to trample it. If during this time he prays, the executioners apply slaps to his mouth, and themselves, in his presence, ignominiously outrage the object of his worship. — Finally, after all these torments, the mandarin has these unfortunates taken to prison, loaded with iron and separated from each other. The chain with which they are decorated has three branches, one of which is attached to the neck by a large loop, and the other two fixed to the legs by the rings which terminate them. She weighs from five to fifteen pounds; if it is too long, to walk it must be supported with one hand; if it is too short, one must constantly bend over.

After all these tortures, it is not surprising that sometimes the courage of Christians weakens, which further increases the sorrow of the Missionary, already suffering such a cruel moral martyrdom, to be a witness to so much misery. So Monseigneur declared that his sadness was immense, and that the grace of God alone could sustain him in the midst of so many evils.

However, we are approaching the hour when the illustrious apostle will finally fall on the field of battle where he so nobly fought, and his fall will be his last and supreme victory; but first he must be watered by the cross and die on the cross. From Easter Day 1858, one can no longer count the disasters that the Annamese Christian communities had to undergo; and His Majesty himself, wanting to write an abridgment of it for Admiral Rigault de Genouilly, who had asked him for information on the state of affairs, finds himself getting lost in the maze of a summary enumeration which contains more than thirty articles. At the end of this desolating picture the Bishop exclaims: And what have become of us during such a tribulation which still lasts, and which, it is said, will begin again with a new fury? Where are we now, we unfortunate Apostles of this Mission so beautiful in the past, at this hour so desolate, so dejected? — Where are we? I don't really know. It has been six months since I received any news from M. Néron. I don't know where he is or if he still lives. M. Galy left on a bark of Annamese merchants, to implore the assistance of our dear compatriots or of the Spaniards of Manila; but what has become of him? and did it not happen to him as to P. Salgot, murdered at sea? MM. Titaud, Theurel and Vénard, discovered in their little bamboo hut, were forced to get out and disperse. I haven't heard from him for two months. Bishop Jeantel prowled the mountains for a long time, then he lived with peasants, he fell into the water while running at night, and almost drowned. I have absolutely no news from Mr. Saiget. As for Messrs. Charbonnier and Mathevon and I who had been at But-Son since the thirteenth of June, we

we lived in four Christian cabins, in four bamboo houses and in fifteen others, or under trees, or in the brushwood, running through the most difficult paths, on stones, in bushes and mud, sleeping outside with the rain on our backs, having almost nothing to manage and no clothes to cover us, overwhelmed with fatigue, with grief, without knowing what to do or where to turn; our tribulations have been and still are incredible.

It has been four months since we said Holy Mass, having no more ornaments and no house to say it. Almost none of the Annamese priests can say it either, and almost all the sick die without the Sacraments. Everything is scattered, burned, everything is cut down, everything is on the run; few people know where I am; I have no one to send letters; those written to me do not reach me, no one dares to carry them, they are burned. We are really at the last extremity.

This news went up to the month of October 1858; what happened next? It is M. Vénard who is going to tell us in a long letter addressed to his younger brother; we will return a little to the events of which Monsignor Retord has already given the summary, and then we will come to other facts whose narration is found nowhere else.

"Western Tong-King Mission, December 1858.

My dear Eusebius,

In October of this year I received your letters of December 1857 and January 1858, together with those of the other members of the family: you can understand the pleasure they gave me, all the greater in that they were longer than usual. So now I must do my best to respond to your fraternal kindness. I would like to tell you pleasant, pious, joyful things like those you described to me. Alas! I see on all sides only misery, tears, barbarism, anguish which, like the waters of a deluge, have come to melt on our dear Annamese Church.

On the date of my last letter, May 58, I said that the grand-mandarins of Nam-Dinh unleashed their satanic rage against the Christians, and subjected them to tortures unheard of until this day, and that new edicts were sent from the capital (Hué) to the provinces, more severe than all the previous ones; that, however, the province of Hà-Nôi, where I was, had not yet felt all the fury of the storm, but that we were in great apprehension; that, moreover, a packet of letters which M. Theurel and I sent to the Chinese merchants of Nam-Dinh, to be despatched to Hong-Kong, had been seized by the mandarins of the above-mentioned province, and that this circumstance probably would bring us misfortunes: indeed, it was like a spark that ignited a great fire.

The bearer of our letters was seized and tortured; questioned, he confessed everything, and moreover informed the mandarins about the different villages which served as a retreat for the European Missionaries, and in particular three places where Bishop Retord had, with great difficulty, organized the Latin colleges and the theology class, namely: the villages of Vînh-Tri, Ké-Non and Hoàng-Nghuyên. The grand mandarin of Nam-Dinh immediately pointed out to that of Hà-Nôi the last two of these three villages which are situated in his province. At the same time, the devil entered the heart of one of our Christian scholars, as formerly into that of Judas, and this apostate put himself at the service of the mandarins to reveal to them the innocent tricks by means of which Christians are accustomed to dodging their researches, and all the internal organization of colleges and Christendoms.

"However, Mr. Theurel, superior of the college of Hoàng-Nghuyên, and I, who had just returned from another Christianity, considered together the movement of business, not without concern, but nevertheless holding firm to the post and resolved not to abandon it. only at the last extremity. We thought that our mandarins would confine themselves to spying, and by keeping us we hoped to escape their espionage; but they were too well informed about us. On June 10, at nightfall, a Christian arrived from the prefecture in haste, and announces to us that the mandarins are on the way to block us; two hours later, news that the troops have arrived at such and such a place. We must therefore resign ourselves to pack up, and quickly. Think, dear Eusebius, if it was easy: two Europeans, three Annamese Fathers, ten to fifteen catechists, more than a hundred students, and all the baggage of the Mission that must be put in a safe place. But our Annamese are so well trained to pack up, that in a few hours, men andeffects were hidden in various places.

"From the morning of Saint Barnabas, the Mandarin troop arrives to the number of 2, plus 000 to 1 pagan young people from the neighboring villages, who have left to guard the avenues. In the blink of an eye, they blocking not only Hoàng-Nghuyên, but also three other Christian villages and a pagan, situated in the same direction. more distant Christendoms, and there were only two pupils who were seized in the fields in flagrante delicto of escapade, carrying with them their small luggage of schoolchildren; immediately they were each rewarded with a cangue.

"The soldiers had promised themselves a fine booty, but they found only empty houses devoid of everything, as if they had been abandoned for a long time; their rage then led them to go and block two other Christendoms from another canton, precisely where all the students of the college had taken refuge, and where they would infallibly have been caught, if we had not dismissed them early in the morning. and whom the soldiers seized and put in the cangue, like the two others: among this number was also an old deacon over seventy years of age. first four villages, seized our old porter, a blind man whom we employed to pound the rice, and finally an old woman with her daughter, guardians of the church. Christians, thanks to the protection of a lieutenant-colonel and the sub-prefect, both of whom had good intentions towards us.

"Here, then, are the mandarins returning, carrying off our dear prisoners, the cangue around their necks like scoundrels, objects of the derision of the pagans, like Jesus once carrying the wood of the Cross and walking towards Calvary. — This blockade of the college of Hoàng-Nghtuyén aroused a great number of others, and several other catechists were taken with a certain number of Christians, plus three Annamese priests, in all at least fifty people Our dear confessors of the faith had to suffer a great deal. of tortures, flogging several times repeated, the torture of cold pincers and reddened pincers, the cangue and the chain; the greatest number persevered, loving their prison better than freedom through apostasy.

"The mandarin commanded a catechist to apostatize. The disciple of Jesus Christ replied: Mandarin, if you were brought the coin minted with the image of the king and if you were told to trample it under your feet, would you dare Will you do it?—An enormous slap was the answer to his request.—Another, taking the crucifix in his hands, said aloud: Lord, you have never done me any harm, and they want me to insult you: how dare I consent to it?—Twenty blows of rattan rewarded his piety. invocation: We pray to you for the king and all the mandarins: Lord, deliver them from all evil, they repeated it three times; the mandarins understood the reproach which was addressed to them by such an invocation, and ordered silence to the poor singers. — They wanted to apostatize the old keeper of the church and her daughter , but they generously refused, and the good woman replied: "Who is the fool who would dare to step on the head of his father and his mother?" criminal, confused to see a woman standing up to him, sent them both home.

Of all these prisoners the three priests had their heads cut off, the old deacon and two catechists consummated their sacrifice in the sufferings of the prison, and the others were sent into exile in the unhealthy regions, on the wild mountains, where many others have preceded them and others are following them: may the Lord sustain them, relieve them and comfort them! It is for having confessed his name before men that wicked men persecute them; the world looks at them like madmen, but they are the real sages; here below they sow in humiliation and pain; one day they will reap in glory and joy, Amen! ! It's like that !

"Our college, our churches and all our houses were set on fire, our bamboo hedges which hid us were cut down and our nudity exposed to the gaze of passers-by. We still had to lose a lot of money extorted by greed mandarins and their agents, human foxes always on the trail of some tangled business from which they can derive some profit; public leeches, who believe they have the right to suck the blood of all that is weak without ever being satiated Who could, my dear Eusebius, recount the incredible depredations of all those in general who have power in their hands in this kingdom of Annam, from the king and the grand mandarins to the simple mayors and deputy, of each village? But it is especially on the poor Christians that rapacity exerts its vexations, and in recent years, this current year especially, these vexations have been pushed to the utmost limits.to molest them, to insult them, to pillage them, like a public malefactor whose executioner everyone claims to be.

"The first care of any mandarin who arrives at his post is to send his agents to question the Christians if they have executed the king's edicts: that means: Bring me some money; when he prepares to change position, same request. His satellites are even more demanding: they settle with the Christians, they want to be treated well, to be brought presents. If they are given, they will come back; if they are not given not, they will come back even more often. The people have defined them well by giving them the nickname of mandarin flies; and what further increases these vexations is that the mandarins are constantly changing. Dear brother, I do not enter into the detail of all these miseries whose thought hurts the heart, so much they reveal baseness, turpitude and villainy......

"The fate that our college of IIoàng-Nghuyênaeu, you can presume, dear brother, that it was common to those of Ké-non and Vinh-Tri; but Vînh-Tri, which is in the province of Nam- Dinh was treated with more cruelty. I cannot tell you the details of what concerns him, for I am two days away from it, and now the communications between the Christendoms are very difficult, seeing that the 'many patrols have been established which stop travelers and question whether they are Christians, in which case they are forced to trample the Cross under foot; there are even several roads on which the pagans have placed the Cross across them to I know only that the great mandarin imprisoned thirty or forty of the principals of the village, which numbers nine hundred souls, that of this number at least twenty-five remained firm in the faith, despite all the torture they have been made to endure; that twenty of them arewent into exile, and the other five were sentenced to death.

And don't think, dear Eusebius, that it was the only vicariate of Bishop Retord that felt this resurgence of persecution; its devastating wave traveled and still travels all over the country of Annam, from Cambodia to China. The two vicariates administered by the Spanish Dominicans were perhaps even more devastated than the others. Order left the capital to pursue all the European Missionaries to excess, as well as the native priests; and those of the Europeans who will be taken, the mandarins must put them to death in torment and cut off all their limbs, starting with the ankle, then the knees, then the wrists, the elbows, the upper legs, the shoulders and finally the head: this is called Lang-Tri torture, the meaning of which is slow cruelty. Msgr. Melchior, Dominican, Apostolic Vicar of the Eastern Tong-King, was taken, and the ferocious mandarin of Nam-Dinh subjected him to this horrible torture last August.

This new edict, which appeared in July, excited the rage of the mandarins, and they put their troops into the field; a very large number of Christian villages, suspected of harboring missionaries and native priests, have been blockaded and severely visited. Most of these poor villages were plundered, either by the soldiers at the time of the blockade, or by the mandarins, who demanded sums of money which had to be given to them to avoid greater evils.

But I imagine hearing you say, my dear Eusebius: Where were you all then? how did you avoid being enveloped by the hurricane? — I answer by saying: By the grace of God, who keeps his own and does not allow the hand of the wicked to reach them, and by the stratagems which natural prudence suggests, the practice of which, moreover, is familiar to us. Would you like me to outline for you a bit how our tactics operate? You must know that our Christians stand sentry around us to warn us when danger is approaching; and our great tactic is to remain hidden in some corner of the house as in a cellular prison, observing a Trappist silence, not daring to cough or spit, or sneeze too loudly. Happy who can, in this solitude, have a little hole which lets a ray of light pass through and illuminates the pages of his breviary or of some other friendly book! It is in this isolation that it is good to exercise patience and to leave one's life at the disposal of Providence. Then if the mandarin seems to want to disturb your lodging, then you take advantage of the darkness of the night to go elsewhere and keep the same rules of life. From time to time, however, you can seize some favorable moment to go out to breathe the outside air and stretch your legs a little. And such, dear Eusebius, is the great stratagem which most of the native priests and all the Missionaries, and even a very large number of catechists, have had and must use to avoid the publicity which would expose their lives.

"It is evident that, in such a system of things, the sacraments cannot be administered to Christians; a certain number of sick people even die without receiving spiritual help. That is not all, dear Eusebius: this retirement and this seclusion in the homes of Christians were not enough to protect many from the pursuit of the persecutors, they had to go to the homes of well-meaning pagans to seek an asylum which had become impossible among Christians. Theurel and I spent two days and two nights under the roof of a pagan who had obligations to a Christian and for that reason consented to lodge us; but he imagined that he was receiving native priests, not Europeans, and he did not did not see our face, nor we his, and we were well advised not to stay longer with him, for an hour after our departure the pagan mayor of the place arrived with his troops to take us.

"Monsignor Retord, seeing that the Missionaries pursued with such relentlessness could hardly escape the search of the mandarins, advised them to leave the plain and retire to the Christian villages situated at the foot of the mountains, where His Majesty had already fled. with two colleagues, M. Charbonnier and M. Mathevon. Mgr Jeantet was also forced to seek asylum in the same area. As for M. Theurel and I, we climbed higher and went to join M. Titaud in the village of Dông-Chiêm But the mandarins did not leave us in peace: the apostate of whom I spoke at the beginning of my letter had given

to the mandarins the description of Our two Lords and two or three Missionaries, Immediately they came to encircle all the villages where they knew that Their Highnesses had sought asylum, and to guard all the avenues of the mountains; but Our Lords were able to penetrate into the woods and escape in time. we owned; however they took no one.

Bishop Retord and the two confreres whom I have named wandered over the mountains, barefoot, through thorny woods, walking on sharp stones which the Annamites call cat's ear stones, suffering from hunger and having nothing to quench their thirst. thirst than unhealthy water, which no one drinks with impunity; and, seeing no way out of these wild places, they ended up building a bamboo hut in the bosom of a thick forest. In this place they lived a hermit life for four long months: Christians brought them some food not without danger of being devoured by the tigers which inhabit these mountains and which claim many victims. I sent one of my catechists to visit His Grace around mid-August; he twice encountered a royal tiger, who had that day devoured two poor Christian girls busy tending their buffaloes, and he himself only escaped the claw of this ferocious animal by special protection. of Mary, whose scapular he attached to the end of his traveling staff.

Dear brother, no doubt you want to ask me whether and Bishop Retord is still in his forest hermitage! I will answer you: His body, yes; but his soul has left this abode of misery to pass to a better world. Bishop Retord is no more, the malignant fever of the woods carried him away on the twenty-second of October. Thus ended, in neglect and misery, this life of labor and suffering, after twenty-five years spent in the Missions, eighteen of which supported the heavy burden of Vicar Apostolic. Bishop Retord did not see the long-awaited fine days of peace glimmer; his whole life as a Missionary passed in the midst of persecutions and setbacks of all kinds, it was only the realization of a dream of his youth in which the Blessed Virgin had appeared to him and transported him in a dream on top of a mountain, at the foot of a large cross, telling him that his life would be crucified to the end. Every missionary life is fruitful on the cross; that of Bishop Retord was more so than any other, and his death on a wild mountain, in the midst of a forest populated by cruel beasts, in the absolute destitution of all things, is death on the cross, the bare, austere cross like that of the Master, the Savior Jesus.

When Bishop Retord died, there was only Mr. Mattevon to assist His Lordship, because Mr. Charbonnier, having felt the first bouts of fever, had already left to seek treatment in a Christendom in his district; and after His Grace's demise, Mr. Mathevon was able to go to a less unhealthy place where he is still hidden. "As for us, MM. Titaud, Theurel and I also had to climb mountains, walk on cat's ear stones, and set up a hermitage in a forest clearing. We remained there from eight to fifteen days in peace, and each day we added some new improvement to our Robinson life; we collect rainwater to cook our food and brew our tea; we had leveled a path to walk together, or to recite our breviary while walking. Every morning our food was brought to us by Christians from the village of Dông-Chiêm, a league away, and we had already cleared some ground to plant yams, when one morning we received an unexpected visit from six pagans armed with guns and hunting knives, which told us they were chasing a tiger. We received them politely, and a moment later, taking a pretext to step aside into the forest, we descended from the plateau where our hermitage was, at the foot of the mountain bathed by the waters of the annual inundation, to a place where we kept a boat always ready to receive us in case of danger. These pagans were nothing less than hunters, they were spies sent to find us. From then on, we resolved to live on our boat, in the reeds, sometimes here, sometimes there; and twice a day a young man brought us our food, pretending to go fishing. We led this life of aquatic birds for a few weeks, at the end of which we received alarming news, which obliged us to separate, to go and try if the life of seclusion in the houses of Christians would offer us more security. So taking advantage of the waters of the flood which covered the whole country, I was able to return to my district; I stayed with a Christian for three weeks in the midst of continual alarms, and then I took lodgings in a house of nuns, in the village of But-Dông, where I am still. This village is half Christian, half pagan; the assistant is a Christian and I have agreed with him that, whatever alert is given, I will not leave the village, but that, in the event of a blockade, I will go down to a den dug for this purpose. — I had the good fortune to offer one of my colleagues to come and share my asylum. This dear colleague had been condemned to live for three whole months in a dark recess, when the chief of the district of the place, having learned of his stay, came to seize him. But Monsieur Saiget (that's the name of this colleague) was able to escape from the place where he was being held, through a hole made in the roof.

Now, therefore, we enjoy a certain tranquility together; the nuns gave us one of their rooms large enough for us to take five or six steps; two of my catechists are with us and help us study Chinese letters to pass the time. The spies of the mandarins prowl around us, and our poor nuns, who are only sixteen, are obliged to keep watch night and day; they are in continual fears: a barking dog, the voices of quarreling people make them start. However, our presence, while causing them anxiety, on the other hand reassures them and makes them continue their little daily work in peace. And indeed, if we were not among them, all the news from outside, either of blockaded villages, or of imprisoned Christians, or of other monasteries which are destroyed, would put disturbance in their minds, while, by our presence , we console and strengthen them, and then they have the advantage of going to confession and taking communion more often, an inestimable happiness for them."

Following the account of these desolations and these inexpressible miseries, M. Vénard shares his hopes:

We are waiting for peace, we know that our liberators are near us, that a French squadron seized Touranne on September 3, and that 000 troops, including part of Spaniards, are encamped on the beach. As soon as the news of their appearance spread through the country, everyone, whether Christians or pagans, was jubilant: for the pagans, in general, hate the reigning dynasty, and they attribute the misfortunes of the last years, the plague, the flood, the famine, with the bad behavior of the king who takes care only of his pleasures, by no means of the good of his people, and lets the mandarins oppress him with their pleasure. They are delighted that the Europeans are coming to overthrow this dynasty. Many also say: We have done too much towards the Christians, the Europeans are coming to deliver them: we cannot blame them, that is justice. Everyone expects to see the king defeated, and one would be sorry to learn otherwise.

The appearance of a comet has confirmed people's belief that the current dynasty has had its day. A comet in the heavens is a sign of war for these superstitious peoples; they believe that the sky itself unfurls the standard of revolt: so they name a standard star comet, and there never appeared a comet, that there was no rising-

ment and that some scatterbrain did not believe himself to have the vocation to put himself at the head of the revolt. But never had a standard star been seen displaying in the sky such a beautiful banner as that which appeared in September of this year; it still had this particularity that it rose each day a degree higher on the horizon. Add, my brother, its coincidence with the appearance of the French squadron, and you will understand the effect it must have produced on the Annamese people. Immediately the revolt was quickly organized, ready to burst when we learned of the capture of Hue by the French; it was expected that this capture would take place in a very short time, and no one imagined the obstacles which doubtless hampered it, since it has been three and a half months since the squadron was stationed on the coast of Cochinchina, and fame teaches me nothing of its operations.

The persecution is not slowed down; on the contrary, the fury and hatred of the king and the mandarins against the Missionaries and the Christians, whom they suppose to have called on the French to help them, increased further. They wanted to throw ignominy on the God of the Christians, and they had the cross placed on the main road which connects the capital to the provinces, so that it would be trodden under the feet of passers-by. On the other hand, to weaken in the minds of the people the effect produced by the appearance of the comet, the king issued an edict which forbade it to be called standard star, and changed its name to that of star. plenty. Moreover, when the mandarins saw that this abundance star was about to disappear, they made a sacrifice to heaven and addressed this prayer to him: If the king and the mandarins have become unworthy to rule the people,

we ask you, O star, to make known to us the will of heaven by remaining visible in the firmament; that if, on the contrary, the king and the mandarins have not become unworthy of the favor of heaven, O star, we ask you to put out your light and disappear. — After a few days the comet could in fact be seen only very faintly: apparently King Tu-Duc and his mandarins are very worthy of holding the scepter of power in their hands and of governing the kingdom of Annam: otherwise the comet, which had already moved away from our terrestrial globe, would certainly have turned back to say the opposite. Who doubts that? "

Mr. Vénard adds: "I have just received the news of six new Martyrs, including four priests, a rich Christian and a young student from our college who had had the misfortune to apostatize, and who, touched by repentance, went to recover into the hands of the Mandarin of Nam-Dinh, who, irritated, had it crushed under the feet of the elephants.

Bishop Jeantet says he was an eighth-grade student, still very young. The young people who were more advanced, His Grace adds, were no less admirable. One day, one of them, drenched in blood, said, smiling at his executioners: Rattan can't do anything about it, neither can pincers. Tongs or rattan, it all comes down to the same thing: look better.^."

Finally, the Missionary ends: December 21. I receive letters from M. Legrand de la Lyraie, missionary of this vicariate, who has become interpreter for M. Admiral Rigault de Genouilly, commander of the French squadron in the China Seas. Mr. Legrand writes to all of us to invite us to come aboard the French steamers, while waiting for all measures to be taken by the French army to act and deliver the Annamese Christians from oppression. The Admiral groans to see us in danger, and he would like us to send our lives to safety, by descending on board the vessels of war; but the thing is almost impossible for the Missionaries of this western vicariate: we are too far from the sea, and the circulation in the country is too dangerous for us to attempt the enterprise. I reply to M. Legrand and insert this letter in his, although I am very much afraid that they may not reach them. At least I pray the Holy Angels to keep and lead in peace the two women bearers of my letters; I send women, because they travel more easily than men."

Chapter thirteen

Death of Mr. Venard father. -- letter a m. Paziot: life of

proscribed. — Franco-Spanish expedition to Cochinchina.

— unfortunate result of this event for religion. — conduct unworthy of mandarins. — extreme desolation of the Annamese church.

The letter that ends the previous chapter was dated December 1858, it arrived at its destination in March 1859, the Lord having kindly allowed the two messengers to arrive without accident at Touranne where the French squadron was wintering. In the month of July 1859, the good Missionary wrote another dispatch which never saw the land of France, and it was only in the month of March 1800 that he once again put his hand to the pen. But already before this date the cruel death had reaped in the family of the future martyr its venerated chief, whose heart seemed to foresee that he was going to announce to heaven the approaching arrival of his beloved son. On the day of his death, his other children, all three on their knees, asked for his blessing; sweet Melanie, faithful to the promise made to her dear Théophane, held in her hands, on the bed, the portrait of this beloved: Dear father, she said, Théophane is also there, you are going to bless him with us. At this memory so dear, the poor father heaved an indescribable sigh which penetrated to the depths of the souls of those present: Ah! this dear friend, where is he? Then, regaining all his strength and straightening up, he said aloud this prayer: Dear children, all receive at this moment the last blessing of your father: In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. So be it! And his weakened hand fell back on the bed. They were all crying, and on that day they could not help thinking also of that other blessing given to Theophane on the twenty-seventh of February, 1851.

Several minutes before the last sigh arrived, the generous patriarch, completely filled with his God and holy thoughts that good souls suggested to him, raised his eyes to heaven, where he kept them fixed in such a way, that all believed that he then had a divine vision, a foretaste of heaven's delights; and when it was all over, a pious person present could not help saying, "Thus the righteous die." In fact, never has a soul left its body with fewer efforts and shocks; it was not a rupture, a breaking, it was a sweet passage. This beautiful death took place at noon, on Friday August 1859, XNUMX. M. Vénard was sixty-four years and three months old. — His children had this inscription engraved on his tombstone, the meaning of which is in the Holy Books: Lord, he participated in your sacrifice: let him enjoy your peace!

The news of this death was sent immediately to the Tong-King; but the desolate state of this country, prey more than ever to the most dreadful persecution, did not allow the sad missive to arrive soon enough: Théophane never knew here below the death of his venerable father. The Lord, who wanted soon to snatch him himself to heaven, spared him this pain, sparing for his heart the sweet surprise of seeing his excellent father, with his pious mother, come together to meet him on the day of his birth in Paradise.

After the death of his beloved father, it seems that, for Théophane, events are rushing to bring him to the last day which must finally reunite him with those he loves. We therefore come to the last works of the Missionary, and soon to his last battles. Before letting him relate himself the truly terrible sufferings of the poor Annamese Church, let us take a quick look at the state of things after the death of Mgr Retord, the illustrious Bishop of Acanthe. — As we were able to convince ourselves of it by the preceding documents, the last crisis of the persecution of 1858 had left on all sides very sad ruins reduced to remain on the ground, because of the forced inactivity of the Missionaries. excessively prosecuted. It is such a violent commotion, said one of them, such a universal debacle, that it is almost the end of the world and the loss of Bishop Retord, in the present circumstances, is for us a terrible blow. Bishop Jeantet, an old man of seventy, remained at the head of the Mission; and one must understand that, in spite of the energy of his soul, his apostolic labors, continued for forty years in the midst of so many disappointments and privations, must have singularly diminished his strength. In this occurrence, seeing the peace of religion always fleeing like an elusive shadow, and in order to provide more surely for the needs of souls in this desolate Church, His Lordship thought it necessary to appoint a coadjutor: it was M. Theurel, already provicar since then. the death of M. Castex, who was invested with episcopal dignity; he bowed before the choice of his colleagues, and received, at the age of twenty-nine years and a few months, the title of the illustrious deceased. If, then at least, peace had been given to the unfortunate Tong-Kinoese Christian communities, it would still have been possible to raise so many ruins and to repair so many disasters. Monsignor the Apostolic Vicar, seconded by a coadjutor so full of zeal and courage, could have restored the administration of the vicariate to a flourishing footing, and the harvest, so badly damaged for a moment, would have resumed its original fecundity and produced new fruits. a hundredfold. But the Lord allowed this poor Mission to be further sunk in pain and almost complete destruction.

M.Vénard is going to give us the distressing details of this new recrudescence of misfortunes; it is the last letter he wrote before falling into the hands of the enemies of Jesus Christ; after that, these will be the words of a confessor of the faith:

10 may 1860.

To M. L'ABBE PAZIOT.

My dear friend, It is a long time since I wrote to you, and perhaps you think that I am dead, or that the passage of time over our old friendship has turned it into one of those ancient ruins through which the greedy eye seeks in vain to read the history of the past. Now, both suppositions will vanish on receipt of this beautiful sheet of paper which I am sending you, debris saved from the shipwreck of my belongings, and which I am endeavoring to paint as best I can and in the best possible way. best style that my memories of the language of my homeland already confused can represent to my memory.

I am still writing to you from Tong-King, and do not wait for me to give you a sign of life from elsewhere, because I hope that from there too you will receive the news of my passage into the other life. I am therefore writing to you from the Tong-King, in a small dark recess where a ray of sunshine never penetrated, where the door, slightly ajar, serves as a window to let a little light pass avariciously to me, which allows me to to read a few sheets of mismatched volumes, or to laboriously trace these lines for you. Because you have to be on the lookout: if the dog yelps, or if some stranger passes by, I immediately close the door, and I stand ready to bury myself in a little hiding place in the corner of my closet. I have been living there for three months, and I have left, to come here, other places of the same kind that I occupied sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of Mgr Theurel, my companion on the sea in 1852. , who became the coadjutor of our apostolic vicar, sometimes in the company of another confrere.

“The monialary which sheltered us was overthrown by the pagans who entered it one day to take us, because they had heard that there was a religious leader hidden in this place. I was with Bishop Theurel, we had just long enough to put ourselves in a partition a foot wide and arranged ad hoc. From there we could see, through the cracks in the partition, this band of pagans, the mayor at their head, garrotting five or six of the old nuns who had remained to cope, while the younger ones had fled. They beat these poor girls with rods, ran all over the house to take everything that came to hand, even the few earthenware vases. hanging along our bulkhead, and we heard them vociferating, screaming like demons, threatening to kill, to burn, if they were not given a large sum of money. This visit lasted nearly four hours, and we were there near them, almost touching them, not daring to do the most s little movement, holding our breath, until finally invited by one of the first of the Christian village, they had gone out to eat and get drunk at his place. They did not leave, however, without leaving guards around the house, and it was not until the morning, at cockcrow, that we were able to escape and pass into the smoky hovel of an old Christian woman, and where another colleague, also obliged to decamp from his hole, came after two days to share our delights.

What fate worthy of envy, friend Paziot? three Missionaries including a Bishop, lying side by side day and night in a space of one meter fifty square centimeters, receiving an uncertain light through three holes big enough to pass the finger through, perforated in the earth of the partition [and which our old woman has take good care again to half-fill with a bundle of straw on the outside! And if the bad guys are worrying us, don't think we've run out of resources. Beneath our feet is a brick den very well built, although by candlelight, for two or three nights, by one of our catechists; in this lair there are three bamboo tubes which skilfully go underground to seek outside air on the edges of a nearby pond. This catechist has built two more dens in the same village, without counting four or five between partitions.

"We enjoyed the hospitality offered by the old Christian for three weeks, and do not think that we were sad at least; I dare not say it, but perhaps you would have been ill edified by our gaiety. When our three-hole window refused us daylight, we

had a lamp artistically prepared in such a way as to let three rays of light escape, just enough to illuminate half a page of a book in-twelve, and without forgetting the lampshade, so that the light would not be reflected on the partitions and did not come out through the slots. Dear friend, it is only with such minute precautions that there is a way of avoiding the eye of spies and the searches of the wicked.

One day we found ourselves stranded unexpectedly and in such a well-planned manner that before dawn there were sentries posted at all the houses, so that if anyone wanted to flee or only to pass from one house to another, he would infallibly have been taken. He was an apostate who brought us this surprise, and he certainly knew us in Christendom. Well, ! however, his plans were completely aborted. From morning until evening the pagans, summoned from various places, passed and repassed near us, turned the furniture of the houses upside down, ferreted about in every corner. God did not allow them to discover only a rosary or a medal. They broke down the partitions three paces from the partition, where I was hiding with one of my catechists, and for a moment I thought the hour of martyrdom was about to strike for me. Vain are the efforts of men, when God opposes their purposes!

“Perhaps you will ask me: In such a state of seclusion, without air, without light, without exercise, how can you still live? aren't you crazy? Always enclosed in the narrowness of four walls, under a roof that you touch with your hand,

having spiders, rats and toads as companions, forced to always speak in a low voice, like the wind, say the Annamites, daily assailed by bad news, priests taken, decapitated, Christendoms destroyed and scattered among the pagans, many of Christians who apostatize, and those who remain firm sent to the unhealthy mountains on which they perish abandoned, etc., etc., and this without one being able to foresee what will be the end, or rather foreseeing it only too well: j I admit that one needs a special grace, what is called a state grace, to resist the temptation of discouragement and sadness.

As for what is of our physique, if I were a second year student in full humanities, I would describe to you at the bottom of the cellars these piled up tubers which project towards a narrow ventilator their long slender and whitish stems to beg there for a little air. and light, source of life for all visible creatures. I am not ashamed to confess to you, dear friend, that from time to time I also put my nose to the half-open door of my little room to breathe in a little of that good air that the good Lord has spread with prodigality around our globe, and which I see with some feeling of envy all beings using without measure according to their good pleasure. A colleague from a neighboring province writes to me that eighteen months ago 'he hasn't seen the sun, and his letter is dated from the land of the moles, ten feet underground: so his stomach is completely ruined. As for me, I still get along without getting too bored; the weak part in me are the nerves, and I would need a fortifying diet, especially a little wine; but I barely have enough to be able to say mass: so I mustn't think about it. Instead, I use fortifying pills that an Annamese doctor prepared for me. A few days ago, I went to the neighboring house to confess a few people, and I found myself very surprised to see myself stumbling like a drunken man; I had lost the habit of walking: that is the whole mystery.

But in speaking to you of me like that, I realize that I fall under the anathemas of Mr. Tronson. I am therefore going to try to turn the discourse around some general question; but here again a pitfall, because when I leave myself I meet my neighbor, and compatriots, liberators, right next to me, in the bay of Touranne.

"In December 1858, I wrote to my family some details which you could read; it was then more than three months since the French squadron had seized Touranne, and by its arrival had excited the attention of the Annamese people and rekindled the hope of effective help in the hearts of Christians. At the beginning of 1859, the squadron went to destroy the fortifications of a place called Saigon, in Lower Cochinchina, then, in withdrawing, left a small garrison in one of the forts of the river. Summer arrived, also arrived the news of the war with Austria, arrived again the diseases engendered by various causes, they decimated the personnel of the expedition, for which negotiations were entered into. of peace with the Annamese, but, being unable to come to an agreement, and on the other hand, the Italian campaign having brought about the cessation of the war with Austria, hostilities were resumed again in the autumn with the Annamese government. until April of this year 1860, that the squadron, for causes completely hidden to me, has withdrawn from the points occupied until then.

From that time until today, it seems that there has been a secret communication made by the court to the mandarins of the provinces, of certain points of negotiation supposedly concluded with the French. I read a copy of this communication: it says a thousand really incredible things

I do not know what to think ; if this document is authentic, there is only one executed article, namely: the retreat of the French squadron. As for the evils of Christians, they are always increasing. And that, dear friend, is all I know of the French expedition to Annam; I have no doubt that you are much better informed than I on this article.

Now, do you perhaps believe, my dear friend, that I am going to use my pen to make many comments and criticisms on this expedition? that I will ask, for example, why ...........

But we pass over in silence this numerous series of whys which are not malicious, but only plaintive and somewhat bitter; an eloquent mouth has said that these are appreciations which will one day be reproduced by the chisel of history: today they would miss the opportunity. We reproduce only the end of this passage, so that one understands how much the heart of the Missionaries must have been pained by the out of season steps of some of their compatriots in these too painful circumstances: "If I let my pen run, says he, I wouldn't have enough paper to unroll the string of my whys. And if I were mean, without sharpening my mind to superfluous points, I would simply report the reflections of the Annamese people on the French expedition; and as a bouquet, I would amuse myself by painting for you the kindness and graciousness of certain naval officers, asking poor Missionaries who have a knife to their throats, all kinds of curious objects, beautiful costumes of Annamese women, etc., for the pleasure of their beautiful eyes.

"My dear friend, I will not embark on this path of vain criticism; let us say together the old proverb: Man proposes and God disposes. An expedition which the firm will of the Emperor Napoleon III had decided upon and entrusted to the arm of Admiral Rigault de Genouilly, was to be crowned with complete success. But what are human probabilities in the face of divine counsel? Thus it was God who, for reasons known to himself alone, allowed the hour of our deliverance was delayed, that even the measure of our ills had overflowed, like a raging sea that breaks its dikes and brings desolation and death everywhere. It is because of our sins that our misfortunes have increased, and it is better for us to strike our breasts than to stretch out our hands to strike those of our brothers.

Here is now what was the repercussion of these events on religion: "The Annamese government, seeing that the French squadron was undertaking nothing decisive against it, resolved to radically destroy the Christian religion in the kingdom. For this, the mandarins favorable to the Christians were broken up and replaced by others whose hatred was well known. Orders were given to place crosses, not only on the main roads, but at the entrance to all the villages, with bodies of guard to force passers-by to trample them underfoot. In many places people worthy of the infamous mandarin who sang, in filthy verses, that Europeans all have the faces of dogs, because they derive their origin from Zato (this is the adorable name of Jesus as the Annamites pronounce it in Chinese), since, according to this forever cursed man, Zato had a dog for a father; workers, I say, lent their execrable hand to carve figures of crucified Zato, with a e figure of a woman on one side and that of a dog on the other, and they placed this abominable sculpture on the roads, in order to reduce to the last degradation Zato, the God of the Europeans.

"But the persecutors have above all taken up the task of erasing the sign of the Savior from the souls of all Christians, and a certain number of mandarins have made a real name for themselves in this work of infernal destruction. with perfidy, simulating on the one hand compassion and tenderness in order to better ensure their blows, and on the other hand letting go of the pagan villages to molest the Christian villages in all ways, to plunder them, rob them, satiate them of vexation and to disgust them with religion.After this, the mandarins sent emissaries after emissaries, whom the Christians were to pay handsomely: They first brought the chiefs of the Christendoms to their court, and sent them away with good words; a few days later, same scene, so as to wear out the patience of the poor people. After those came the turn of the whole male population, and then these mandarins, henchmen of Satan, lifted their mask... (But we are obliged to throw away a veil over such abominations. )

“The government has further established for each township an official called the township shepherd (you can easily understand, dear friend, that it is the wolf rather than the shepherd), and by each town hall another official named the village fort, that is to say, the brigand of the village, both for the purpose of supervising the Zato. Add to these two functionaries the chiefs and sub-chiefs of each canton, the mayors and deputies and masters of the chores of each village, both those who are in office and those who have been dismissed or removed from their places, who, because of their seniority, often have more influence than the new ones, all in general competing in zeal for persecute the Zato. Zato has been outlawed; anyone can lay their hands on this scapegoat, we can do all possible harm to him with impunity, except that it has not yet been allowed to kill him. . .

"Furthermore, in Annam there is a law of solidarity which makes an entire village and the civil servants of the same district in solidarity with the crimes committed, it is not uncommon to see villages dissolve and even disperse for the sole because a mayor will not have paid the annual tribute, or because the harvest will have failed, or because he will have dissipated it for his own profit. If today we took a religious leader in a village, especially a European, this village would be razed and the inhabitants a part condemned to death, and the other dispersed to the four winds; the mayors and district chiefs, even pagans, at least sent into exile, the Mandarin of the sub-prefecture broken, and that of the prefecture deprived or of his pay or of part of his ranks; while if these officials themselves take the head of religion, they will receive a large sum of money and will be promoted to a higher rank. better way to stimulate the dogs' ardor to run on the trail of game?

"Another plague: at the destruction of our colleges and houses of God, more than twelve hundred young people found themselves on the pavement; some were able to return to their homeland, but a large number did not have this facility. , either because they would have been taken, or because they no longer have a family. So here they are, without fire or place, wandering from Christianity to Christianity for long months. Many have been taken and have given testimony in the name of Jesus; almost none of them yielded either to torture or to the caresses of the mandarins, and the Annamese Church can be proud of having given birth to them.

"After this, dear friend, you see that it is almost impossible for us, pastors of the faithful, to show ourselves to them and distribute to them the bread of exhortation and consolation. The pastors are obliged to hide, and here is the flock at the mercy of the devouring wolves: wolves who do not want to kill the body, but the soul of the sheep, and who use, to do this, all the means that the most consummate cunning and perfidy can put And then as much, in this Annamese country, those who have the strength in hand are despots, insolent and proud, so much the common people are slaves, pusillanimous and fearful.Women are counted for little and treated like children : that is why, although they are generally chaste and zealous for religion, they cannot have the nobility and dignity of the Christian women of Europe. our nuns who, receiving a more careful Christian education, and matured in the exercise of religion, keep cool before the persecutors. .

"In the autumn of 1859, when the French resumed the offensive, the Annamese government, thinking that all the Christians had plotted a general uprising, a crime of which they were quite innocent, my God! seized the principals of all Christendoms to imprison them to the prefecture, and confided a large number of others to the care of certain pagan villages, with the burden, very heavy on each Christianity, of feeding them. then all Christendoms, deprived of their heads, were more and more delivered up to the mercy of the wicked. I have the consolation of counting a deputy from the commune where I began my letter, among the brave did not listen to flesh nor blood, but who, on the contrary, followed the movement of the spirit which makes the children of God. He left for exile with his companions. Since the arrival of the French ships, on seventy Annamese priests in our Western Vicariate l, ten have already won the palm of martyrdom, and seven others are waiting in prison for the death sentence passed on them to be confirmed by the court. The Vicariates of the RRs. PP. Dominicans can boast of still greater numbers. I do not know exactly the number of exiles: both in the neighboring Vicariates and in ours; certainly there are more than a thousand of them, priests or Christians. These are the valiant ones whom God has chosen to glorify his name before the powers of the earth, and whose memory consoles us in the midst of our desolations.

"I told you, my dear friend, at the beginning of my letter, that I was writing to you from a small retreat, in the heart of a Christian village; but it was not given to me to finish it in this fortunate retreat. : events happened within Christendom, which obliged me to transport my penates elsewhere. Here is how: this Christendom is in the sub-prefecture of a mandarin who, I do not know why, has a hatred of a demon towards Christians, but she has always resisted him, despite the hypocritical means he has used to reduce her, firstly because she is united and has a lively faith, secondly because she keeps us two Missionaries and in our person Jesus Christ in his bosom since before the arrival of the French squadron until today; thirdly because the canton chief has influence over the Mandarin and protects the Christians. is therefore seen thwarted in his designs, but has not abandoned them; and, to succeed,he makes use of a pagan from a village in the same commune, who does not fear the chief of the canton and who very much hates Christians.

Here again is the mandarin's tactic: he constantly announces that he is coming, and that all the Christian population must present themselves to him. garrotting those they meet, and seizing everything that comes to hand, without anyone resisting them; and then the mandarin does not arrive, they release, for a certain sum, those who have been Our poor Christians are always on the alert, they do not want to trample the cross under foot, and to avoid this misfortune they prefer to flee, men, women, children hiding in the rice fields and remaining days and whole nights half-lying in the water and in the mud.Sometimes a few have been brought back half-dead from hunger and cold.

“Now these past days our hypocrite Mandarin has announced his visit again, and as justly the pagans guarded all the avenues of Christendom before daybreak, and spread themselves through all the houses to give vent to their savage immorality and to their thirst for pillage. It has happened that, through the fault of stunned young people, these brigands have discovered a den where, fortunately, there was neither character nor compromising effects. However, they made a great noise about this den, they denounced to the grand mandarin that there was a hidden priest there who fled, etc. This is why the next morning they arrived armed with spades and shovels, with the intention of digging in all the houses of Christendom; but Providence, which watches over its people, has delivered us from their hands: for the district chief, having heard that the day before a European had been taken from the above-mentioned den, arrived very early in the morning with a hundred armed people. , willing to use forceto deliver this European. Some Christians then imprudently confessed to him that they were hiding valuable merchandise, and when he withdrew, he invited the Christians to entrust this merchandise to him. 'And that's how, dear friend, I came to finish my letter in a completely pagan village, without really knowing what was going to happen next. Judging by appearances, the dispositions of these pagans are benevolent, but God alone knows the depths of their hearts. They speak with great circumspection, as if afraid to show their true feelings, or rather afraid to launch some false proposals which would shame them: for they have a high idea of ​​this personage who has come from so far away to entrust himself to their hospitality. . Undoubtedly God wants, in this circumstance, to open the way to them to the knowledge of the Gospel.

“My dear friend, in tracing these lines for you, the thought of our misfortunes presented itself so vividly to my mind, that I had great difficulty in stopping the course of my tears and finishing my letter. like Jeremiah groaning in the midst of the ruins of Jerusalem; around us are immense ruins: will they ever be raised? It is the bone-covered plain of Ezekiel's vision: will there be for them in the time a day of resurrection? "I have explained to you our disasters in general, but they are complicated by a host of circumstances which aggravate them, and which are due to the character and customs of the country, and which it would be tedious to enumerate for you. , When the thought of the present turns to the future, an icy shiver runs through your limbs, the most male courage fails, and the waters of anguish threaten to overwhelm your heart. The evils of the daughter of Zion are very great! For my part, dear friend, I trust in God, that I will complete my race, that I will keep intact the deposit of faith, hope and love, and that it will be given to me to share with the friends of God the crown of justice.

I wrote my father a letter dated June or July 1859, which doubtless did not reach its destination. I am sending this to this beloved father, so that he may read it as it was written to him, and take the opportunity to increase his prayers for his Missionary. Poor father! he must be getting old now! I am somewhat impatient to hear from him, for since December 1858 no letter from Europe has reached me.

"Dearest Mélanie, I intended to write to you especially as well as to Henri and to Eusèbe; but the present letter is also for you. You all wrote me letters which I received in December 1858; since then, you have no doubt written to me again; perhaps in a few months I shall hear from you. Farewell, my beloved ones! Be more and more holy!

Farewell all in the Lord! Farewell, dear friend! Pray for me who am always your very affectionate in Christo.

I send greetings in the Lord to all my friends whom you know, and I commend myself to their prayers. "

The whole content of this letter and especially the lines which end it only too well foresee the sad but glorious denouement which is to follow, and which Theophane himself is the first to glimpse. The Missionaries, hunted like wild beasts, no longer know how to find retreats to escape the investigations of the satellites, and it is truly miraculous that all have been able to resist such incredible calamities up to now. However, Mr. Titaud, from the diocese of Le Puy, exhausted by the solitary confinement to which he had been reduced for two years, surrendered his soul to God on January 1860, 1848, and in the following August, Mr. Néron, from the diocese of Saint -Claude, is delivered by a traitor into the hands of his enemies. After having undergone the torture of rattan, having remained three months in prison, including twenty-one days without taking any other food than a few drops of water each morning, this courageous Missionary finally consumes his last sacrifice by the saber, and thus fulfills the prophecy that was made to him in such a positive way in Paris in XNUMX — M. Néron has just left us, passing from the arena of combatants to the palm of the Martyrs, says Mgr Theurel, and now M. Vénard takes the same path and will soon fly away to heaven. —Now, in approaching the details which are to follow and which are the very Acts of the martyrdom of Theophanes, touching and sublime acts, imprinted with the celestial stamp of candor which was the character of his whole life, we are seized with a holy respect. ; one should, it seems, only on one's knees read such tales.

Chapter fourteen

The catch. — interrogation. — captivity. — the final farewells. - the martyr. — judgment on mr. Vénard considered a missionary.

The acts of this glorious martyrdom must comprise first of all several letters of blessed Theophanes himself, some of which will be, for ages to come, monuments for ever memorable like certain Acts of the Martyrs of the first centuries. Enshrined in this volume, says Bishop d'Angoulême, they will shine there like jewels. Next come the relations of the venerable bishops of Western Tong-King, one of whom had quite paternal sentiments for our pious Missionary, and the other the true heart of a brother. The new Bishop of Acanthus was good enough himself to write everything concerning the triumph of the man who for so many years had been his intimate confidant. His Majesty, moreover, felt the need to render this last duty to his friend and also to relieve his grief by giving him this supreme testimony of the most tender affection. It is therefore above all from this source that we will draw our details, when dear Théophane himself has become insufficient to supply them to us.

The letter which ends the preceding chapter takes the Missionary to the month of May 1860. Here is the sequence of events taken from Bishop Theurel's account: At that time, says His Lordship, Mr. Vénard was a refugee in a large pagan village preaching religion to his guests, as much, at least, as circumstances permitted. They listened to him willingly, they relished his doctrine, but they replied that the question of becoming a Christian must necessarily be postponed until the persecution had ceased. The chief of the canton who resided in this village, having caused some suspicion that he regarded our colleague as his prisoner, M. Vénard himself renounced this asylum which had become perilous, and after a few detours went to the Christianity of Ke-Beo. He found it full of superstitions: but this circumstance was a reason the more that he tried to pitch his tent there for some time, in order, as he pleasantly said, to engage the devil there. After having therefore revived the courage of these poor neophytes, he was able, God helping, to carry out a fruitful administration among them. One stiffens against fear; superstitions were abandoned; bad mouthed people reformed their language; Christianity, in a word, took on a new aspect. It was all the more gratifying since, in these stormy times, one did not see such neat administration being carried out anywhere else.

When all these Christians, with the exception of three or four, had returned to duty, M. Vénard, who was not unaware that his presence was more or less rumored in the surroundings, left Kê-Bèo, after a stay of just over a month. He then spent about twenty days in the village of Kîm-Bâng, where he also did some good, and thence proceeded to the Christendom of Bùt-Sòn, one of our most famous asylums in this persecution of thirty years. There, seconded by an excellent native priest, he made another effort of zeal which was crowned with the happy fruits of salvation. However, this administration was less peaceful than that of Ké-Bèo, interspersed as it was with several reports of blockades which, however, had no further consequences. In the meantime, Bishop Jeantet, our venerable apostolic vicar, having himself come to take shelter at Bùt-Sòn M. Vénard, after spending a few days with His Majesty, ceded to him this position, reputed to be almost impregnable...

M. Vénard returned to the village of Kîm-Bâng; but, after a few days, seeing that he could not stay there in safety, he went by boat to the village of Kê-Bèo... It was about the eleventh of October. The noise of the administration which had taken place in this village in the preceding month of July had not yet died down; and M. Vénard on his return having thought he could without danger complete and perfect his work, his presence became more and more notorious. But he nevertheless agreed with his catechist Luòng, who remained in the Christianity of Bût-Dông, that he would soon return to seek in this ancient bastion the refuge he had always found there in earlier times; he only wanted to wait a few days. These were the decisive days.

"On the thirtieth of November, around nine o'clock in the morning, five or six boats, carrying about twenty men, appeared a few steps from the house which sheltered the Missionary. As this house was isolated and close to the fields, and as the flood covered still the whole country, these boats sufficed to guard all the avenues. They were brought by a former chief of the neighboring canton called Cai-Dô, the same who, in 1854, had rescued M. Néron from the hands of the customs, sent only he was then by a Christian more powerful than himself, who died in 1855. This man today played a different part.Leaving his boats at some distance, he went with five or six of his people towards the house where the Missionary. This one, having understood at a glance what was preparing, had already hidden himself in a double wall built for such occurrences. Arriving in the house the pagan exclaims: Let the priest European appear here!—At this summons the catechist Kha ng who, busy hiding Mr. Vénard's belongings, had probably not had time to hide himself, presents himself to the takers in the hope of deceiving them, and says to them C'est moi who am here, I arrived there recently; if you have pity on me, I will thank you; if you take me, I will resign myself. — The former chef de canton, while making a sign to his men to bind the catechist, advances straight towards the double wall which covered the Missionary, and pushing him down with a kick, he pulls M. Vénard out of it. who is immediately dragged into the boats with his servant. It was a very fine capture made very cheaply. When the village of Ké-Bèo knew what it was, the boats had already set sail, carrying their easy prey.

"You are doubtless asking me, my dear Eusebius, who is the Judas who betrayed the minister of Jesus Christ. There are four versions on this point... —The venerable narrator gives these four versions in detail, but it would be too long to reproduce them. It suffices to know that the most probable, that adopted by Mgr Theurel himself and by the whole village of Kê-Bèo, is that the traitor is called Sù-Dôi, a pagan, of the widow with whom the Missionary had taken refuge

"The chief of the canton Dô, having brought Mr. Vénard and his servant to his house, immediately installed a feast of rejoicing; after which he made the Missionary a bamboo cage, and the catechist a cangue, and in the evening presented himself to the sub-prefecture with his two prisoners. He said that, patrolling in a boat, he had met these two men in the middle of the countryside, on the territory of a canton which was not that of Ké-Dèo, and that having succeeded in taking them, he had hastened to bring them to Mandarin.Thus, by this single declaration that M. Vénard and the catechist Khang took care to support by words with double meanings, the village of Kê- Dèo found himself out of the affair. The canton chief Do hoped that the village would pay him dearly for such a benevolent declaration; but he still had another reason for doing so: his son-in-law being chief of the canton of Ké-Bèo. , if he had declared having taken the European priest in this village, then one of two things: or well he would have put his son-in-law in the game, or not. In the first case, they would have shared together the reward of thirty bars; but the king would not have given either of them any dignity. In the second case, the son-in-law would inevitably have lost his place. In spite of this declaration, the mandarins knew very well that M. Vénard had in fact been taken at Kê-Bèo, and this village had to make an expenditure of about eight hundred ligatures, of which our community, in spite of its distress, bore half.

It was from the sub-prefecture, where he had just been taken, that the Missionary wrote his first letter to his family announcing his capture. Although this letter only reached its destination last, we quote it here nonetheless, in order to maintain the chronological order of events:

JMJ

3 December 1860.

TO MY PARENTS.

My beloved ones,

The good Lord in his mercy allowed me to fall into the hands of the wicked. It was on Saint Andrew's Day that I was put in a square cage and taken to the sub-prefecture from where I trace these lines for you rather painfully, because I have only a brush to write with. Tomorrow, December XNUMX, I will be taken to the prefecture. I do not know what is in store for me there, but I fear nothing; the grace of the Most High will be with me, Immaculate Mary will not fail to protect her weak servant. — I hope that they will still provide me with the means to write; I nevertheless take advantage of the opportunity that a good pagan my guardian offers me to send you greetings from my prison. The sub-prefect's house is full of consideration for me, and I don't suffer much. Many come to see me, and they allow me to speak freely; I take advantage of it to instruct in Christian doctrine, and a large number confess to me that the religion of the Lord of Heaven is in conformity with reason; and if the king did not defend her, they would gladly embrace her.

Here I am, then, entered the arena of the Confessors of the Faith; it is quite true that the Lord chooses the small to confound the great of this world. When you learn of my struggles, I trust you will also learn of my victories. I do not rely on my own strength, but on the strength of Him who defeated the powers of hell and the world on the Cross. I remember you, my very dear father, my dear sister and my dear brothers; if I obtain the grace of martyrdom, then above all I will remember you.

Farewell, my dear ones; in heaven the rendezvous! We will meet again up there. “In a moment I will wear the chains of the Confessors.

Farewell, dear and honored father. Farewell, beloved sister and brothers."

Bishop Theurel continues: "The mandarin sub-prefect, on the arrival of the convoy, was far from rejoicing; it is even said that he loudly protested a la Pilate, declaring that the sin and the odiousness of this business fell on the takers; that for him, he only received the prisoners because he could not refuse to do so. He was very polite to M. Vénard, and changed his bamboo cage for a suitable wooden one. , long and high, in which our colleague could take almost any position he wanted.He also had him make an extremely light chain, which is now in my hands and which I estimate to weigh at most one kilogram. Our dear prisoner wore no other until his death. Finally, the sub-prefect showed consideration so far as to invite the Missionary to eat in the audience hall, like a free man. When the city had sent a detachment of fifty to a hundred soldiers, commanded by a lieutenant-colonel and two or three captains , to reinforce the escort of the two prisoners, the sub-prefect sent them to the prefect of the capital of Tong-King, with a report in conformity with the declaration of the chief of canton Dô, who was also part of the convoy.

Arrived at the prefecture, the dear prisoner, after a few days, sent his family the report of this trip accomplished under such a good escort, then a summary account of the interrogation which he had to undergo. We want to reproduce them in full.

jmd

January 2, 1861- TO MY PARENTS.

My very honored and very dear father,

my dear sister and dear brothers,

I am writing to you at the beginning of this year, which will undoubtedly be the last of my pilgrimage on earth. I have already written you a little note in which I let you know of my capture on the thirtieth of November, feast of Saint Andrew, in a Christian village. The good Lord allowed me to be betrayed by a bad man, but I don't blame him. In this village I was taken to the sub-prefecture, and I drew you a few lines of farewell at the moment when they were about to pass the chain of scoundrels around my neck and legs. I fucked it, this pretty iron chain, the true bond of slavery between Jesus and Mary, which I wouldn't change for its weight in gold. The mandarin had the delicate attention to order a very light chain, expressly for me, and during the three days that he kept me, while waiting for a detachment of soldiers who had left the prefecture to escort me, he treated with great respect. His brother came ten times at least to urge me to tread the Cross, out of pity to see me go to death in the flower of my age.

On leaving the gates of the sub-prefecture, a large crowd awaited me as I passed; then a young Christian, a prisoner for the faith, did not hesitate to come and prostrate himself three times before my cage, and to recognize me, in the presence of the mandarins and the multitude, for the messenger from heaven.

After two days I arrived at the prefecture of Kecho, the former capital of the kings of Tong-King. Do you see me sitting quietly in my wooden cage, carried by eight soldiers, in the midst of an innumerable people who throng my way? I hear around me: How pretty is this European! He is serene and joyful like someone who goes to a party! He doesn't seem to be afraid! This one has no sin! He only came to Annam to do good, and yet he will be put to death! etc., etc.

We enter the citadel through the eastern gate, and I am taken to the tribunal of criminal justice. My catechist named Kliang, taken with me, walks behind my cage, cangue around his neck. I pray to the Holy Spirit to strengthen him and me, and to speak with our mouths according to the Saviour's promise. I invoke the Queen of Martyrs, and conjure her to assist her little servant.

First of all the judge gratifies me with a cup of tea which I drink casually in my cage. Then he proceeds to the interrogation according to custom.

He asks me where am I from?

I answer that I am from the Great West, from the kingdom called France.

"What did you come to do in Annam?"

— I have come only to preach the true religion to those who do not know it.

- How old are you ?

— Thirty-one years.

The judge said to himself with an accent of compassion: He is still very young! — Then he asks:

"Who sent you here?"

— I answer: It was neither the king nor the mandarins of France who sent me; it was on my own initiative that I wanted to go and preach to the pagans, and my superiors in religion assigned me the Annamite kingdom as a district.

"Do you know Bishop Liéou?" (It was the Annamese name of Bishop Retord.)

- Yes I know him.

— Why did Bishop Liéou give letters of recommendation to rebel leaders to enroll Christians?

"I dare ask the mandarin from what source he got this information?"

'The prefect of Namm-Digne wrote to us.

- Well ! I testify that this is not true. Bishop Liéou was too wise to commit such foolishness; and if any of these alleged letters have been found, they are forgeries. I did see a circular from Bishop Lié or addressed to his priests; but he forbade following the leaders of the rebels, and he declared that he would rather give his life a thousand times than dip his butt in blood.

"And the warriors from Europe who took Touranne and Saigon, who sent them?" What is their purpose in waging war on our country?

"Mandarin, I have of course heard around me that there was war; but, having no communication with these warriors of Europe, I cannot answer your question.

Meanwhile the prefect arrives; hardly seated, he shouts to me in a vibrating voice:

- Oh that ! head of the Christian religion, you have a distinguished countenance; you knew very well that the Annamese laws forbid Europeans entering the kingdom: what's the point of coming here to be killed? It was you who incited the European ships to make war on us, weren't you? You have to tell the truth, or else you will be tortured!

— Grand-mandarin, you are asking me two things: to the first I reply that I am sent from heaven to preach the true religion to those who do not know it, no matter where, in what kingdom. We respect the authority of the kings of the earth very much, but we respect the authority of the King of heaven even more. To the second question, I reply that I in no way incited the Europeans to make war on the Annamite kingdom. "In that case, would you like to go and tell them to leave, and they will forgive you?"

_ Grand Mandarin, I have no authority to settle such a matter: however if His Majesty sends me, I will ask the European warriors not to make war on Annam any more, and if I do not achieve my goal, I will come back to suffer death.

─Aren't you afraid of death?

─ Grand Mandarin, I do not fear death. I came here to preach the true religion; I am not guilty of any crime that deserves death; but if Annam kills me, I will shed my blood with joy for Annam.

"Do you have a grudge against the one who took you?"

— Not at all, the Christian religion teaches you to love those who hate you.

"Head of the Christian religion, do you have to declare the names of the places that have concealed you up to this day?"

— Grand Mandarin, you are called the father and mother of the people: if I make these declarations, I will be the cause of many evils which the people will have to suffer. Judge for yourself whether it is suitable or not!

"Tread on the cross, and you will not be put to death."

- What ! I have preached the religion of the Cross up to this day, and you want me to abjure it? I don't value the life of this world so much that I want to preserve it at the cost of an apostasy.

"If death has so much charm in your eyes, why did you hide for fear of being caught?" ─ Grand mandarin, religion forbids presuming one's strength and giving oneself up. But heaven having allowed me to be arrested, I trust that it will give me enough courage to suffer all the tortures and to be firm until death.

These, in short, are the most important questions that have been put to me, and the way in which I have answered them. The mandarins also questioned my catechist, and had him beaten ten times with a rattan. The Lord gave him the strength to confess his faith with constancy.

Since that day, I have been installed with my cage at the very door of the prefect, under the guard of a company of Cochin-Chinese soldiers. Many people of all ranks come to visit me and talk to me. They absolutely want me to be a skilful doctor, a famous astronomer, a diviner, a prophet from whom nothing is hidden. So a good number of visitors seriously ask me to predict their destiny. Others ask me about Europe, about France, or, to put it better, about the whole world. This gives me the opportunity to enlighten them on a host of points about which they have the most bizarre ideas. Above all, I try to teach them the way of salvation; but the Annamites are light-minded, they do not like to talk about serious matters, all the more so about philosophy and religion. On the other hand, their heart is quite good, they show me interest and pity. The soldiers my guards have taken a liking to me, and though they have been blamed twice for letting me go out for air, they still occasionally open the cage for me, and allow me a few walking moments.

Among these numerous visitors, some, as is to be found everywhere, had the boldness to speak of improper things: this is why the captive saint adds:

I do not forgive them for these words, but I call them to order, and sometimes I reprimand them sharply. I tell them that they degrade each other by their impure thoughts and their licentious speeches; and since they dare to speak in this way without blushing, they are worthy of pity, not to say contempt. My lessons make them hold back and observe themselves in their language; several even asked my pardon for their inappropriate words. However I must say that all is not rose and perfume. If the greatest number show me sympathy, there are also people who insult me, who make fun of me and talk to me impolitely. May the Lord forgive them!

Now I await in peace the day when it will be given to me to offer the sacrifice of my blood to God. I do not regret the life of this world, my heart thirsts for the waters of eternal life. My exile will end; I touch the soil of the true homeland, the earth flees, the sky opens up. Farewell, father, sister, brothers! Don't regret me, don't mourn me. Live in peace the years that the Lord will give you. Watch religion; keep yourselves clean from all sins. One day we will meet again in Paradise, and we will enjoy true happiness in the company of God, the Immaculate Bride, the Angels and the Saints. Farewell, I would like to write to each of you individually, but I cannot. You guess my heart, dear and honored old father, good Melanie, dear Henri, beloved Eusèbe. Farewell to all those who loved me, especially to you, dear Abbé Paziot! For three years I haven't received any news from France, I don't know which ones are still there, and which ones are no more. Farewell !

The prisoner of Jesus Christ sends you all salvation. Soon, no doubt, my sacrifice will be consummated.

The good Bishop of Acanthus, whom the beloved captive had instructed to send this letter to its destination, adds to this story: The sentence of your dear Theophanes is finished, but he will not be beheaded, according to all during February. In the meantime, thank God, he lacks nothing; and though wearing his chain, he lives in his cage as cheerfully as a bird in his."

We are now taking up Bishop Theurel's relationship to follow up on the events. As I was, says His Grace, the nearest of our colleagues to Kecho, being only a day's walk away, I was naturally charged with taking care of M. Venard and corresponding with him. I wrote him, during his detention, four letters; Mgr Jeantet and M. Saiget also wrote to him, and our dear prisoner answered us very precisely. We had as an intermediary a Christian with a heart of steel and leader of the patrol, called Huong-Moï, whose house had just been my refuge for two months, and who had mixed up out of dedication with the troop of ushers and servants of the courtroom. In a first note of December 1860, 1859, your brother said to me: "Four days ago the mandarins gave the capital the news of my capture, but without writing a sentence. They made me do it myself- even my declaration in writing. I signed with the catechist Khang. This declaration does not compromise anyone. I have a presentiment that I will go to the capital; they treat me quite well: the Cochin-Chinese soldiers who guard me are good people. But I am on the way to the door of the mandarin-prefect; that is why it is very difficult for me to write... The grand-mandarin gives six sous a day for my food. I am quite well. My heart is peaceful as a calm lake or a serene sky; I am not afraid. The mandarin of the bailiwick of Nam-Xang (who molested the Christians a lot) came to see me, and I told him that Jesus was stronger than him, that it was in vain that he struggled with Jesus, and that Jesus would know how to bring him down like your nt others. Clerk Tù (who in XNUMX took on four priests) asked me for your news. I told him in the middle of the session that he had an ugly job, and that his ninth-class Mandarin diploma, the price of the blood of the four priests shed by him, would wither like the flower of spring, which made the Mandarin laugh. of justice and the whole legion of clerks. I am loved and respected; the Grand Mandarin feasted me twice.

The following January XNUMX, the prisoner of Jesus Christ wrote to me again:

I received your letter so affectionate! THANKS ! I take advantage of the grand mandarin's absence to write with some leisure. The grand mandarin gave six sous for my food; but he no longer gives them, so that today I would have gone to bed without supper, if the chief of the canton, Maï, who is imprisoned with me, had not sent me a bowl of rice... Yesterday the new mandarin of justice came to see me and question me for form. As he told me that the happiness of the other life was uncertain, while the happiness of this world is certain and positive, I answered him: For me, grand-mandarin, I find nothing on earth that makes me happy. ; wealth makes people envious and gives worry, the pleasures of the senses give birth to a host of diseases. My heart is too big, nothing that is called happiness in this world can satisfy it. "He was fairly polite." As he ordered me to be treated well, I told him that I had nothing more to eat: he pretended not to understand; tomorrow the captain of my guards will renew the representation to him. While speaking of care and attention, this mandarin also ordered a severe guard around me, and this evening he sent someone to see if my cage was closed... Among the clerks, there are some a very good one, his name is Tièn, he shows me a lot of respect. He alone, with a certain captain, is not afraid to use, when talking to me, the expressions bâm lay (which are the ones we use when we speak to mandarins). On the first day of the year, a captain of His Majesty had regaled me with a first-class cup of tea, my clerk Tièn, coming to pass, sat down immediately to participate in the feast, but with manners delicate and polite, with a simplicity that hypocrisy will never falsify. . I have written a rather long letter to my family on bad paper, I beg your amiable Lordship to send it, completing the details. Ah! Monsignor, here I am at this hour that each of us has so desired. It may no longer be a day... (as in the song of the departure of the Missionaries); It is :

“Soon, soon all the blood in my veins Will be shed; my feet, these so beautiful feet, Oh, what happiness! They are laden with chains! Near me, I see the executioners!

In the long hours of my cage, my thoughts take flight towards Eternity. Time will end, we must say goodbye! You, you will repeat the words of Saint Martin: Domine, si adhuc populo tuo sum necessarius, non recuso laborem — I will say with Saint Paul the words that despite persecution we never failed to sing on All Saints Day and the Day of the Dead, and which always moved us to tears. “I don't know if I can still write; farewell ! I would have been happy to work with you: I loved this Mission of the Tong-King so much! Instead of my sweats, I will give him my blood. I have the sword hanging over my head, and I have no shivers. The good Lord takes care of my weakness; I am happy. From time to time I honor the mandarin's palace with my songs: "O dear Mother! Place me Soon in the fatherland Near you Noble Tong-King! blessed land by God, Heroes of the Faith, glorious fatherland!" I came to serve you, Happy for you to live and die!

"This last verse is the refrain of a song composed by Mr. Vénard himself, on his arrival at the Tong-King. Our happy colleague continued:

When my head falls under the executioner's axe, O Immaculate Mother, receive your little servant, like the bunch of ripe grapes fallen under the cutting edge, like the blooming rose picked in your honor. Hail Mary! I will also say to him on your behalf: Ave Maria.

“I had urged him to greet Mary for me on his arrival in paradise.

Finally M. Vénard said in a note:

I would be happy if you would send some souvenir to my family, at your pleasure. My chalice is a family heirloom: if my brother Eusebius had it, he would be at the Angels.

"By this extract from the letter written by your brother dated January XNUMXrd, you have seen, my dear friend, that the Mandarin-Prefect had stopped feeding the Missionary prisoner. We then found a Christian widow named Nghien, sister of the cook of one of the Grand Mandarins, who undertook to provide for all of M. Vénard's needs, and through her we were able to communicate with him quite easily from then on.

“On the sixth of January your brother sent me another little letter:

I have received, he told me, your wish for a happy new year. THANKS ! Yes, really good! It's having good luck for once.... I should have already paid you my compliments, excuse my forgetfulness. Happy New Year, Monsignor! Peace and work, and then will come the great rest of Eternity!... — In the absence of the mandarin-prefect, his wife, a newly married young girl from Kecho, came to see me; but when I came out of my cage, she ran away like a child. I sent him to call gently; but when she returned, others had to speak for her, she did not open her mouth. young girls...—Let us say together once again to Mary: Tuus tutus ego sum.

There was then in the prisons of Kecho an Annamese priest called Khoan, who is still there now. I had initially hoped that Mr. Vénard would be able to see him, but the meeting not having been able to take place, I sent to our dear prisoner Father Thinh, vicar of the parish of Kêcho. It was patrol chief Huong-Moi who undertook to introduce this Father to the Grand Mandarin's palace and to M. Venard's cage. The interview took place on the fifteenth of January, in the presence of the guards and a crowd of personages from the suite of mandarins, who encumbered the whole room. Your brother, pretending not to know Father Thinh, asked patrol chief Huong-Moï: Who is this gentleman who entered with you? ca, an expression which in Christian language clearly signifies a priest, but which in the language of the pagans can be understood as the eldest of a family. — At these words all the blood and courage of Father Thinh descended into his legs. But the leader of the patrol, who plays with the dangers, covered up the Father's pallor with his jokes, and directed the attention of those present to other things. Mr Venard. leaving his cage, went for a walk in the garden to examine his conscience; none of the guards followed him there. On his return, and when he had returned to his little lodgings, the chief of patrol made a new effort to amuse all the assistance; and the Annamese Father, pretending to examine the cage, exchanged a few words in a low voice with the prisoner of Jesus Christ, then quietly walked away. Your brother, having received absolution, regaled the whole company with a few cups of tea, and then Father Thinh took leave of him. This Father, who had brought the Blessed Sacrament to the city, gave it to the widow of whom I spoke above, and the latter, towards evening, brought it to M. Vénard, who thus enjoyed the presence of Our Lord until after midnight, and then took communion.

"In a letter dated January XNUMX addressed to Bishop Jeantet and to all the confreres of the Mission, your brother wrote with emotion:

Father Thinh will tell you how I regaled him with a cup of tea in the presence of the whole crowd. He brought me, however, the bread of the traveler, Jesu! in my cage!

Mr. Vénard added:

I did not receive a single rattan blow. I met with little contempt, much sympathy: no one here would want me to die. The people of the Grand Mandarin's household are charming. I suffer nothing compared to my brothers. I will only have to bow my head humbly under the axe, and immediately I will find myself in the presence of the Lord, saying: Here am I, Lord, your martyr. I will present my palm to Our Lady, and I will say to her: Hello! Mary, O Mother! O Mistress, O Queen, hail! and I will take rank under the banner of the slain for the name of Jesus, and I will intone the eternal hosanna. Amen! SO:

“Farewell, my friends of this world! It is getting late, let us part, And do not weep on my grave, But rather rejoice! — I want no more of this life, Of a harsh exile too dark a place; We'll see each other in the homeland, Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!!!"

It is also on the date of the twentieth of January that the last letters of farewell addressed by M. Vénard to each of the members of his family must relate; it is impossible to have a heart and read them without emotion. We are therefore going to place all four of them here, regretting that we cannot frame them in the middle of golden palms, so much the resulting emotion is already the fruit of the premature grace of martyrdom:

JMJ

20 January 1861.

My very dear, very honored and beloved Father,

Since my sentence is still awaited, I want to send you a new farewell which will probably be the last. The days of my prison pass peacefully; all those around me honor me, a good number have affection for me. From the Grand Mandarin down to the last of the soldiers, everyone regrets that the law of the kingdom condemns me to death. I did not have to endure torture like many of my brothers. A light saber cut will separate my head, like a spring flower that the master of the garden picks for his pleasure. We are all flowers planted on this earth and that God picks in his time, a little earlier, a little later. Another is the empurpled rose, another the virginal lily, another the humble violet. Let us all try to please, according to the perfume or the brilliance which is given to us, to the sovereign Lord and Master. — I wish you, dear father, a long, peaceful and virtuous old age. Gently carry the cross of this life following Jesus, until the Calvary of a happy death. Father and son will meet in Paradise. Me, little ephemeral, I go first. Farewell !

Your very devoted and respectful son,

J. TH. VENARD, Miss. Apostle.

JMJ,

In a cage at the Tong-King, January 20, 1861.

Dear sister,

I wrote, a few days ago, a common letter to the whole family, in which I give several details about my capture and my interrogation; this letter has already gone out and, I hope, will reach you. Now that my last day is approaching, I want to address to you, dear sister and friend, a few lines of a special farewell: because, as you know, our two hearts have understood and loved each other since childhood. You had no secrets for your Theophane, nor I for my Melanie. When, as a schoolboy, I left my father's home each year for college, it was you who prepared my trousseau and softened with your tender words the sadness of farewells; you who later shared my sweet joys as a seminarian; you who supported by your fervent prayers my vocation as a Missionary. It was with you, dear Mélanie, that I spent that night of February 1854, XNUMX, which was our last interview on earth, in conversations so sympathetic, so sweet, so holy, like those of Saint Benedict with his holy sister. And when I had crossed the seas to come and water the Annamese soil with my sweat and my blood, your letters, kind messengers, followed me regularly to console me, encourage me, strengthen me. It is therefore just that your brother, at this supreme hour which precedes his immolation, remembers you, dear sister, and sends you a last support.

It is nearly midnight: around my wooden cage are spears and long swords. In a corner of the room a group of soldiers are playing cards, another group is playing dice. From time to time the sentinels strike on the tom-tom and the drum on the watches of the night. Two meters from me, a lamp projects its flickering light on my sheet of Chinese paper, and allows me to draw these lines for you. I await my sentence day by day. Maybe tomorrow I will be led to death. Happy death, isn't it? Desired death which leads to life... In all probability, I shall have my head cut off: glorious ignominy for which the sky will be the price. At this news, dear sister, you will cry, but with happiness. See then your brother, the halo of the martyrs crowning his head, the palm of the triumphants rising in his hand! A little more, and my soul will leave the earth, end its exile, end its fight. I go up to heaven, I touch the homeland, I win the victory. I will enter this abode of the elect, see beauties that the eye of man has never seen, hear harmonies that the ear has never heard, enjoy joys that the heart has never tasted. . But first the grain of wheat must be ground, the bunch of grapes must be pressed. Will I be a bread, a wine according to the taste of the Father of the family! I hope for it from the grace of the Saviour, from the protection of his Immaculate Mother: and that is why, although still in the arena, I dare to sing the song of triumph, as if I were already crowned victor .

And you, dear sister, I leave you in the field of virtues and good works. Reap many merits for the same eternal life that awaits us both. Reap faith, hope, charity, patience, meekness, perseverance, a holy death!...

Farewell, Melanie! Farewell, dear sister. Farewell !!

Your brother,

J. Th. VENARD,

Miss. Apostle.

JMJ

20 January 1861.

My dear Henry,

I also want to write you a few lines of brotherly friendship. You were still very young when you bade me your last farewell, and you did not know what the current of worldly ideas was. Ah! the heart of man is too big for the factitious and passing joys of here below to satisfy it: you will not therefore seek happiness where happiness is not.

My dear Henri, do not wear out your life in the uselessness of the world. You are now 29 years old, it is the age of man; so be a man. To resist the inclinations of the flesh and enslave it to the spirit, to be on guard against the snares of the devil and the practices of the world, to observe the precepts of religion, that is to be a man. Not to do that is to be less than a man.

— I am writing these words to you at a solemn hour: in a few hours, at most in a few days, I will be put to death for faith in Jesus Christ. — Yes, my Henri, about to leave the earth, I have the confidence that you will always love the God of your youth. It is the God of your fathers, the God of those who gave birth to you, the God of your brothers and sisters and of all your friends. It is the God whom the greatest minds in which humanity is honored have adored and served; it is the God, all good and all merciful, the God who helps us to do good, to avoid evil, the God who, one day, will reward us or punish us eternally.

Read and reread these lines often. It was your best friend, your brother Theophane who wrote them. I bequeath to you in dying our good father; be a good son, and then you will also be a good brother. Yes, be a good son, a good brother, a good Christian, in life and in death. Farewell, brother; come meet me in heaven.

the one who loves you,

Your loving brother,

J. Th. VENARD,

Miss. Apostle.

JMJ

20 January 1861.

My beloved,

If I didn't write you a few special words, you'd be jealous, and, I admit, with a rational jealousy,

You well deserve it, you who have written me so many letters as interesting and kind as they are long.—It is a long time since I heard from you; now no doubt you are a priest, and who knows? maybe missionary. Be that as it may, when you receive this little missive, your brother will no longer be from this bad world... He will have left it for another better world, where you will have to strive to join him one day; your brother will have had his head cut off, he will have shed all his blood for the most noble of causes, for God. He will be a martyr!... That was the dream of my young years. When, as a little nine-year-old, I went to graze my goat on the hillsides of Bel-Air, I devoured with my eyes the brochure in which the life and death of the Venerable Charles Cornay are told, and I said to myself: And me too I want to go to Tong-Kiug, and I too want to be a martyr. O admirable son of Providence, who led me through the labyrinth of this life to the Tong-King, to martyrdom! Bless and praise with me, dear Eusebius, the good and merciful God, who took such good care of his puny creature...

Dear Eusebius, I have loved and still love the Annamite people with an ardent love. If God had given me many long years, it seems to me that I would have devoted myself entirely, body and soul to the building of the Tong-Kinoise Church. If my health, weak as a reed, did not allow me great works, I had at least the heart to work. Let us say: Man proposes and God disposes. Life and death are in his hand; for us, if he gives us life, let us live for him; if he gives us death, let us die for him.

You, dear brother, still young in years, you remain after me on the sea of ​​this world, sailing in the middle of the reefs. Steer your ship well. May prudence be your rudder, humility your ballast, God your compass, Mary Immaculate your anchor of hope. And despite the disgust and bitterness, which like a stormy sea will flood your soul, never let your courage overwhelm you; but, like Noah's ark, floats always on the great waters... My lamp does not light any more.

My brother, my Eusebius, farewell until the day you come to find me in heaven!

Your loving brother,

J. TH. VENARD,

Miss. Apostle.

These letters were accompanied by a short note from Bishop Theurel, which announced the final consummation of the sacrifice. How had things gone? Here it is, according to the continuation of His Grace's account:

On February XNUMX, M. Venard wrote me another little letter which did not reach me until after his martyrdom. He said to me, among other things:

Dear Lord, the days of my pilgrimage are getting longer. The mandarin-prefect is surprised that my sentence has not yet arrived. All the dispatches pass before me; each time, I ask if this is my death warrant; each time the postilion gives me a negative answer. I salute each dawn that rises, like the dawn of Eternity; but Eternity does not open. Following reason and following my heart, I salute death every day; but, if I believed my presentiments, I have no answer of death: I would even have the presentiment of the contrary, if I did not repel him like an ambush of the devil... Farewell! Lord of Acanthus! Will it be the last? Farewell ! May God's will be done, not mine!

“This farewell was really to be the last. On the night of February XNUMX to XNUMX, the much desired sentence finally arrived; but M. Vénard knew nothing about it. The widow Nghien, having followed him, said to him: Father, you must be executed today. "I am certain, Father, you are being executed today; the elephants are already ready, the soldiers are lined up in order; in a moment, you will be led to your death. M. Vénard then believed in the authenticity of this statement. news, and returned to his cage to distribute his small furniture to those around him. In the meantime an old lady, called Xin, arrived and brought the Blessed Sacrament to the prisoner of Jesus Christ. It was for the fourth time that Father Thinh sent her the Bread of the strong, not knowing that the last day of the Martyr had come. seeing that the moments were short, penetrates through the crowd of soldiers to M. Vénard's cage, and succeeds in placing in his hand the small box containing the Blessed Sacrament. But it was too bold. As soon as the Missionary has received the precious box, the soldiers rush on him, snatch it from him by main force, and give it to a captain. Mr. Vénard, frightened by the danger of profanation in which the Body of Our Lord was, called for help from the widow Nghien, saying: They have taken away my viaticum! The intrepid widow runs to the captain who was holding the box, represents to him that it contains not a poison to hasten death and forestall the blow of the saber, but a mysterious food for the passage from this life to the next, and adds assertive tone: If you dare to touch my Father's Viaticum, you and your whole family will die a sudden death. The captain, not really knowing what to think of all this, timidly returned the box to the widow, who because of the tumult was unable to deliver it to M. Venard. She gave it to Miss Xin, who returned it without further incident to Father Thinh.

While these things were going on, the mandarins summoned the Confessor of the Faith to serve his sentence and send him to his death. M. Venard had had prepared for this wedding day a suit of white cotton and another of black silk, which he wore only on that day. Having put it on, he presented himself before the mandarins, and when he had heard his sentence, he spoke and made a short speech. It was a formal declaration that he had only come to this country to teach the true religion, adding that he was going to die for the same cause. He ended by saying to the mandarins: One day we will meet again in the judgment seat of God. The mandarin of justice answered: No insolence. And the procession set off towards the place of execution. It consisted of two elephants and two hundred soldiers commanded by a lieutenant-colonel. M. Venard sang Latin songs which he continued until he left town. The place of execution was about half an hour away. When this was achieved, the soldiers formed a large circle, outside of which all onlookers were driven back with the exception of the widow Nghien, who obtained permission to remain inside until the last moment.

M. Vénard, with a calm and joyful face, cast his gaze over the whole crowd, no doubt looking for Father Thinh, to receive from him a final absolution; but this Father, not having been able to be informed in time, had not come to this supreme rendezvous. Your brother, having given his sandals to the widow Nghiên, sat down on a mat. Then they took off his chain, by knocking out, by means of a hammer and an iron wedge, the nails which closed the rings of the neck and the feet; and at this moment the soldiers pushed the widow Nghien herself outside the enclosure.

The executioner was a hunchback called Tûè, a former soldier, presently an actor, who had already beheaded four of our priests on March 1860, XNUMX. He had requested this sad function to obtain the remains of the Martyr. He began by asking him, as an ordinary criminal, what he would give him to be executed skillfully and promptly; but his only answer was these words: the longer it will last, the better it will be... However, seeing that M. Vénard was dressed in clean and new clothes, he wanted to grab them before they were soiled with blood. . He therefore begged his victim to strip himself of it; and as this first invitation had no effect, he used a trick and said to M. Venard: You must be Iang-tri, that is to say, have your limbs cut off at all the joints and your trunk split in four. So the Missionary, whether he believed this lie, which I do not think, or to put an end to the importunities of this pitiless hunchback, or rather to the memory of Our Lord who, before being crucified, experienced the same treatment, stripped himself of all his clothes, with the exception of his trousers. After which they bound his elbows tightly behind his back, to oblige him to hold his head high and to present his neck to the fatal sword; then he was tied to a rather badly firmed bamboo stake. In this position and at the given signal, M. Venard received the first blow, which was only like a trial blow and cut little more than the skin. The second, better applied blow severed the head almost entirely and knocked down both the Martyr and the stake. The executioner, seeing his saber chipped, took another and gave three more blows, after which, having seized the head by the ear, he raised it to show it to the lieutenant-colonel who presided over the execution. The latter, having ordered the municipal officers of the place to keep watch during the three days that the display of the head was to last, immediately sounded the retreat and brought his soldiers back to the town. Meanwhile, the widow Nghien and several other Christian women mourned as at the death of their firstborn. As soon as the troops had left the field clear, these women and the whole crowd rushed on the body, to dip in the blood of the Martyr cloths and paper; and they put such ardor into it that not a blade of grass remained on the place of execution.

The execution had not taken place in the usual place; the Grand Mandarin had ordered that the Missionary be beheaded on the edge of the river, so that it would be easier to throw his head there after the exposure. This is why a part of the curious had taken the wrong road, and with them a pagan of our friends who had taken charge of the burial of the Martyr: also, although the execution took place from eight to nine o'clock in the morning , the body, however, remained stretched out on the sand and covered with a mat until about noon. Only then, the beer having been brought back from the side of the river, did they begin to proceed with the burial. Besides the family of that brave pagan called Huông-Da, there was the widow Nghien who had not left the body for a single moment; then a former Christian mayor of the village of Dong-Tri, called Ly-Vung, that is to say, Mayor-the-Solid, and a boatman from the southern Tong-King, also a Christian. The latter had the delicacy to dress the Martyr in his own habit, which he stripped himself for this purpose. The body was then wrapped in cotton cloth, then tied firmly with three bandages, by which it was intended to remove it in the following days, and they contented themselves with burying the coffin a foot deep for the same raison.

There remained the head, which immediately after the execution had been placed in a small wooden box and held up on the end of a pole. Mayor Ly-Vung, of whom I have spoken, having made a very similar box, tried to substitute it for that which contained this precious relic; but it was impossible to surprise the vigilance of the guards. Other expedients had to be thought of. We spoke to the clerk who was to preside over the projection of the head to the river, and we promised him a

bar, if he allowed us to throw it our way. Some promises were also made to the municipal officers of the place, and they waited until the end of the third day, which was the fourth of February. Our clerk, who had a good desire to win a bar, did not show up until dark. It was to facilitate the retraction. But God allowed another character to come and get in the way: it was the little mandarin of the bailiwick, a young wolf of 23, who, strong in his royal origin, gives himself no other concern than to devour his people. He sent a man from his house to witness the projection of the head.

Patrol leader Huong-Moï had stuck a hook with 200 feet of string and a small float in his right ear, recommending the mayor of the place to throw everything into the river: the next day, the sight of the float would have caused people to find head without difficulty. But the mayor wanted to do something better. Barely a few strokes of the oar had set off the boat which carried the head and all these different characters, that the mayor in question threw the precious chief into the water, but without letting go of the string which he attached to the boat. The mandarin man from the bailiwick became angry that he had not been shown the head before it was thrown away, and, suspecting deception, he burst into threats. However, the boat, after having described a long circuit, returned to its starting point, and the head still followed it under the water. We were only a few paces from the shore when someone cried out that the mandarin of the bailiwick had arrived to inspect the boat, which was not the case. At this cry, the mayor, previously presumptuous, becomes disturbed; he violently shakes the string intending to get rid of the head, which effectively breaks off and rolls to the bottom of the river. In the following days, all possible research was made, but without results, God not wishing that anyone should be able to boast in this matter of his skill and his prudence. But he had a very sweet consolation in store for us.

On the morning of February fifteenth, some pagans, friends of Mayor Ly-Vung, descending the river in a boat, saw something extraordinary on the surface of the water, which appeared sometimes black, sometimes white. Approaching it, they picked up in their boat the much lamented leader of our dear Martyr; it was about four leagues from the place of execution. Mayor Ly-Vung, warned by these pagans, came to receive the head, carried it into his house, and gave the news to Father Thinh, who went himself to reconnoiter the relic, put it in a canvas bag and placed it in an earthen vase which was then carefully tarred. The Father having come to inform me of this happy discovery, I had the precious deposit brought to me, which I received on the twenty-fourth of February. I opened the vase in the presence of a priest, a deacon, a sub-deacon, a minor cleric and a Christian family head. I took the white bag which had contained the head for nine days; I also detached from the right ear the hook which the patrol chief Huong-Moi had fastened there; it was wide open as if from a violent jolt; there was about an inch of string left. The appearance of the flesh below the left ear seemed to indicate that several saber blows had chopped this place. The hair was starting to come off, I cut off five or six strands with scissors. I turned and turned alone with my hands this beloved leader; then I replaced it in its urn and had it buried in a neighboring house which had requested it very urgently. My design was to unite at this time the members at the head; but it was not possible for me to do so conveniently: so I contented myself with having them buried in a safe place, where they will rest until there is religious peace. "

The last sacrifice is therefore consummated, the victim is immolated, the holy martyr has ascended to heaven to enjoy the joys to which his pious and loving heart so ardently aspired. There he found his mother, who had already left eighteen years ago, and his father, who had preceded him by seventeen months. Oh! how delicious was this meeting so awaited and so well deserved for all! The venerable Bishop of Pentacomie, Mgr Jeantet, Apostolic Vicar of Western Tong-King, likes to imagine this touching spectacle, and it is in this way that he seeks to soften the pain of a father whom His Majesty believes is still alive:

"Already," writes the pious bishop, "I seem to have seen his holy mother, informed in time of the martyrdom of her dear Théophane, running to the gate of paradise and waiting there for her beloved son. Seeing him approach, recognizing his fine features , her piercing eyes, her small stature, her prompt speech: It is really you, my son, she exclaims, you have been faithful to the piety and faith that I have so often inspired in you; you have confessed your God before the wicked who despise him: you have not feared the plank bristling with nails, nor the rods, nor the pliers, nor the sword. Let your mother kiss the wounds of your neck. How they tore you to pieces! It is your glory, O my son! Come that I present you to Mary whom you loved so much; she will present you to Jesus her divine Son, whose cross you carried so well, and whose you have followed the steps so courageously. Come in the company of your Guardian Angel and your holy patrons; come: I will present you to the holy martyrs among whom you will take place. Then, in our bliss, we will pray: so that your father so loving and so tenderly loved, so that your sweet sister and your dear brothers will all come and enjoy the happiness we enjoy, when it pleases God to call them there. We will conjure up Mary, that good and powerful mother; we will even importune him, if necessary.

The pious Theophanes had merited this great favor of martyrdom by the excellent virtues which we have admired in the course of his life; and the Blessed Virgin, who was his protectress from childhood, wanted to glorify him in the eyes of all in a brilliant way, says Bishop Jeantet, as a reward for his tender devotion for such a good Mother. This is why, after having blessed the secret designs of Providence with regard to him, while mourning his death, we applauded his glorious triumph. It is also this double feeling which fills the heart of his beloved colleagues of the Tong-King; At the news of his death, Mgr Theurel, the faithful companion of his life, declared it himself when ending his interesting account:

"Shall I tell you, my dear friend, that we rejoiced in the martyrdom of your brother, or shall I tell you that we grieved over it? To tell the truth, I must confess that we all rejoiced in the triumph of our confrere, blessing God for the choice he made to flee, and that, on my own account, I was deeply affected by the separation which the choice of the good God has placed between us. same age as dear Théophane; the friendship and the conformity of views which united us were to be for me a powerful help in the labors and the solicitude which the future seems to reserve for us. Your brother was half my strength and my courage. He had great sagacity and immense zeal; it seemed to me that he and I united could do a great deal in this vineyard of the Tong-King. His departure dejected me and made my compass waver. I cried and will cry again, no offense to anyone.

I said that he had an immense zeal: also, although he was weaker in health than all the Missionaries of this Vicariate, he did as much work as any other, often spending half the night and sometimes the whole night in the confessional. His confidence in God was boundless and made him very bold in his undertakings. While he was working so well at Kè-Béo in the months of June and July 1860, I wrote to him to take precautions, the sky being always heavy with storms; he answered me, with the freedom and assurance which were the basis of his character, that not a single hair would fall from his head without the will of God. And indeed, it is indeed the Lord who wanted him to be a martyr, since this happy fate had been predicted to him as early as 1851.

M. Vénard, also called Mgr. Theurel, translated into good Annamese the Concordantia Evangelica which is found in the Complete Course of Sacred Scripture by M. Migne, and added to it the translation of the Acts of the Apostles. He had just completed the translation of the Epistles and the Apocalypse, and was busy making an abridged Commentary of that of Picquigny, when he was arrested. These last two translations, of which no one but him yet had copies, were burned, not by the chief of the canton who took it, but by the Christians of Kè-Béo to whom fear had disturbed the spirit. — Another Christianity has been more faithful to the memory of this dear Martyr: it is that of Bùt-Dông where your brother resided eighteen months with M. Saiget. This parish has been, for more than a year, in open and perpetual struggle with that little Mandarin Nam-Xang whom your brother addressed from his cage with so much energy. This official came himself to the village of Bùt Dông to have the cross trampled there; but all the population having unanimously refused to apostatize, he recoiled before this mass resistance of eight hundred Christians; and though since then he has issued decree after decree, he has only wasted his time and trouble.

Here, certainly, is a happy success, a success well worthy of envy, and which also shows very clearly all the authority that the holy Martyr had been able to assume over these peoples and the powerful influence that his amiable virtues exercised on all hearts. . Also Bishop Jeantet, whose experience was known in men and in missionaries, declares that a few days after their separation in the village of Bùt-Sòn, he wrote to Mr. Vénard that if peace was restored to them, and in the event that it was possible for them to re-establish their Seminary, he appointed him professor of theology. I expected a great deal, His Majesty adds, from his piety, his zeal and his knowledge. The Sovereign Arbiter of all things has decided otherwise. Fiat voluntas killed. "

At the end of his letter, Msgr. from Paris the chain, the little bag and the hook of which I spoke, with hair, one or two autograph letters of the Martyr, and cotton canvas soaked in his blood. neck, which the brother of one of the grand mandarins has appropriated, and one of the two rings of the feet, which some other personage has also taken possession of.

His Grace adds: "You will have, my dear Eusèbe, as well as M. Henri and M.^lle Melanie, your particular portion of hair and blood-soaked canvas. I am not sending you this today, because my letter is already too big: it will be for the next time. Later we will also send you each some souvenir taken from the effects that remain of your brother. Bishop Jeantet and I, and no doubt also all the confreres, willingly consent to the chalice of the Martyr passing into your hands.

In a letter dated March 25, 1865, Mgr Theurel wrote, on the subject of these relics, to Father E. Vénard, vicar of the cathedral of Poitiers: Your brother's whole body, except the head, has arrived at Hong Kong on March 1 and left for France on the ship Saint-Vincent-de-Paul; it will reach you at the end of August or the beginning of September via Nantes. With the body went the chalice and other objects of remembrance..................................

In the same envelope as this letter, Bishop Theurel, understanding our impatience, was good enough to send forward some portions of relics. They were contained in three small packets bearing the episcopal seal and the following inscriptions signed by His Majesty: Hair of M. Th. Vénard; blood-soaked cotton linen; small bones, cartilage, nail fragments, bone marrow.

(Note from the family.)

Finally, Bishop Theurel ends his long and precious story in this way: The catechist Khang, taken with your brother, was exiled to the province of Hông-Hòa which belongs to this Vicariate of Western Tong-King. But, before leaving for exile, he obtained permission to visit his Father's tomb, and to venerate his still exposed head; it was the fourth of February. The canton chief Dô, in addition to the reward of thirty bars given by the king, received another four bars from the mandarin-prefect, and was created mandarin of the ninth class.

After the martyrdom of your brother, I learned of the death of your good father: that is why I did not address this letter to him...

Blessed are those who wash their robes in the blood of the Lamb. (Rev.)

chapter fifteen

FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF THE MARTYR, FEBRUARY TWO, 1862. — A SESSION OF THE CONGRESS OF MECHELEN, AUGUST, 1863. — CONCLUSION.

The official news of the triumph of the illustrious Martyr did not reach France until the end of December 1861, almost eleven months after the event. The Bishop of Poitiers immediately conceived the plan of publicly glorifying, in the eyes of the faithful, the one whom his hand had formerly introduced into the sanctuary, and who had become the glory of the diocese by his courageous confession of Jesus Christ, and the generous shedding of his blood for the Faith.

The feast was fixed for Sunday, February XNUMX, the day of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin, and the anniversary of the Martyrdom: a precious coincidence which they hastened to encourage for the honor of this child so loved by Mary. His Majesty Himself, assisted by his two vicars general, came to preside over the ceremony in the church of Saint-Loup, the native parish of the Christian hero. In addition, the Pontiff was seen surrounded by several members of the Chapter and about a hundred priests, some formerly superiors, others friends and fellow students of Blessed Theophanes. The superior of the Séminaire des Missions-Étrangères, who had trained him for the work of the apostolate, had agreed to join the Poitevin clergy to celebrate one of his children as well; and M. l'abbé Dallet, the intimate confidant of the seminary of Paris, whom illness had brought back to France, had also made a point of depositing on the palms and crowns of his friend the sweet tears of memory and affection. trusting also in his intercession so that he would be allowed to return soon to his dear neophytes.

Around ten o'clock the ceremony began: a compact crowd filled the vast nave of the church. After the blessing of the Candlemas candles, Monseigneur gave the signal for the procession, and each priest, candle in hand, while paying homage to Jesus the light of the nations, seemed to say to the parishioners of Saint-Loup: See how your pious Théophane was also a bright and pure light, and knew how to fully justify the beautiful meaning of his name.

We knew that Monsignor was to speak after Mass. The orator and the hero gave the right to expect much: the expectation was exceeded, and such was the impression produced in the whole audience, that after a few sentences from the orator, emotion rose to its height. , and all without distinction shed abundant tears. After the discourse the choir of priests sang, with pious and masculine vigor, the psalm which invites all nations to bless the Lord, and thus ended the morning ceremony.

It was a real triumph, with its joy and enthusiasm, for the very tears that had flowed were not tears of sadness: everything in the life and death of the pious Theophanes invited joy. "In each martyr, says Abbé Pauvert, grace takes on a different form; in Théophane, it is also proudly drawn: it is an indomitable serenity that nothing disturbs.

"We can apply to him what the English said of one of their poets: that he was born with a rosebud on his lips and a bird to sing in his ear, so graceful are his images and his words full of melody... His celestial amenity causes flowers to bloom everywhere. On the eve of his death, he pours them with both hands on his wooden cage, on the instrument of torture, on the earth which will drink his blood. For him, the fatal blow that will cut off his head is only the slight pressure that detaches from its stem the flower destined to adorn the altar.

This serenity of the Martyr, known to his parents and his fellow citizens, had given the same color to the celebration; nothing there smelled of death, everything there breathed hope and life. The paternal house was adorned with flowers; as on the day of the wedding, a hospitable feast, presided over by his two brothers, awaited the many fellow-students of the hero and the friends of the family, in a room adorned with festoons and garlands, and with the cipher of the martyr framed among the palms and the crowns. Mademoiselle Mélanie Vénard, already then Religious of the Holy Family, under the name of Sister Théophane, had also come to attend the celebration.

Everything there breathed celestial joy, and also at the table of the parish priest of Saint-Loup where the illustrious Pontiff was seated in the midst of the principal members of the clergy, in the same way as in the morning, at mass, the Office of the Blessed Virgin with its white colors, had been disturbed by no sign of mourning, by no memory of death

"Towards the end of the dinner, M. l'abbé Chauvin, vicar of Saint-Jacques de Châtellerault, read a hymn in honor of the martyr: his poetry, by turns proud, gracious and tender, often provoked murmurs of approval and also tears of tenderness. Seeing these extreme hands in the priestly hierarchy, those of the Pontiff and those of the humble vicar, unite to weave the crown of the Martyr, we remembered the one that the Latin poet aspired for the brow of his hero: Allow the ivy to entwine on your brow among the victorious laurels.

Here are some stanzas of this hymn:

Hi ! O chosen victim!

Hi ! bunch trodden, at the borders of Asia, For the chalice of the Lord;

Ear of pure wheat fallen under the sickle, And by the Father of the family Placed in the sheaf of honor

Theophane, hello!! "Hail to your country!"

On the threshold where a dear mother welcomed you;

On the ground that your feet have trodden;

In the temple, happy witness of your ardent tears;

Hail to this altar where your tears were sharpened!

Heroes for the immolated Christ!

The bronze of your baptism has sounded your victory.

The church of Saint-Loup will keep your memory, Child, its joy and its pride;

And if the waves, one day, bring back your relics,

We will see all his people, singing hymns, Kissing your glorious coffin.

. This stanza and a few others from the same Hymn are only the poetic expression of certain passages of the Martyr's farewell to his family.

For you did not fall as cowards fall! You did not back down from great tasks,

Tireless reaper; You did not hand over the Master's field to the thief; You have not, forgetting your royalty as a priest, Preferred shame to honour.

You have not, staggering at the sight of torture, Averting your sight accepted the chalice:

You drank it serene and joyful; And before the executioners, radiant with hope, To all those who loved you on the land of France You left these last farewells:

“I leave, my beloved, I leave the quarry; From the abode of the elect I glimpse the light,

God opens his arms and his heart to me, As soon as my combats you will know my victory I conquered Martyrs and the palm and the glory!... “Cry, cry, but of happiness.

Farewell ! I am going to offer my last sacrifice.., I would have life at the cost of a slight artifice,

But why flee from death? My heart thirsts for the waters of eternal life; “To the nuptial banquet the Lord invites me.

Farewell ! I'm waiting for you at the port!...

But on his neck five times fell the sword '...

Listen... in the sky a joyful cry rises: He has conquered! Glory to the Martyr!" And from the eternal temple he was climbing the steps, When suddenly, crossing the ranks of the patriarchs, Two old men were seen to come out!

It's him ! they cried, this son, our hope, that we had you, Lord, from his most tender childhood,

Consecrated by common accord! "As today Mary in the temple of the earth, Allow, King of Martyrs, to her father, to her mother, Allow to offer it to you again!"

And with the sword around his neck kissing the holy traces: "God, exclaimed the father, has ended my complaints,

Exile, my son, I left it! I come, as at the beginning of your distant journey, to bless you on your return!... Be blessed from age to age! Be blessed for eternity!!"

Hi ! O chosen victim! Hi ! crushed grapes, on the borders of Asia,

For the chalice of the Lord; Ear of pure wheat fallen under the sickle, And by the father of the family Placed in the sheaf of honour!

On the very day of the feast between the services, and the next day, many of those who had experienced such sweet emotions on that day, also wanted to go on pilgrimage to the hillside of Bel-Air of imperishable memory, where the young Théophane still a child had been touched by divine grace, and where his family conceived the project of soon building a small commemorative chapel, and it was then that each, joyful and satisfied, returned to his home, telling everywhere the delicious spectacle of which he had been given to be the lucky witness.

Before leaving this privileged land of the parish of Saint-Loup, Monsignor, wanting to leave this church with a memory of the feast of February XNUMX, gave the venerable priest, the very one who had baptized Théophane, the candle whose His Majesty was served during the ceremony, a candle imprinted with his arms and surrounded by palm leaves with ingenious mottos encrusted in the wax. An object so precious in so many ways has been placed by the care of the pastor in a visible place in the church, next to a painting of about forty square centimeters where there is the autograph of a letter from the holy Martyr himself, written with a brush, and the first that is dated from his cage. These are monuments full of interest which will recall to future ages, with the glory of the hero, all the details of his glorification.

And now is the great emotion felt throughout Christendom on reading the last farewells of the Martyr to his family, is this emotion entirely dissipated? Does the attention of minds, diverted on the other hand, perhaps towards frivolous things, no longer stop to contemplate this beautiful type of virtue, amiable virtue in the highest degree? Will not his influence be felt among us in an effective way? Oh ! reassure us. The Lord will not allow such a glorious triumph for the Church, after such a pious and holy life, to remain without effect for the good of souls.

Our Theophane had hardly left for the Tong-King when his admirable letters, communicated in secret, attracted new apostles after him; and in the footsteps of these, the feast of the second of February has decided many others to enlist under this banner of the soldiers of Jesus Christ. Today, a sweet presentiment makes us believe, this life and this correspondence delivered to the public will also give birth to new vocations. — Those who do not feel strong enough to undertake such hard work will at least become apostles on their native soil, where there is also so much to do for the salvation of souls. And the pious faithful, we have the confidence, will not limit themselves to reading and admiring these edifying pages, they will be led by them to become better; and each of us, in the sphere where the good Lord has placed us, we will seek to imitate the young hero who was for us here below a celestial light, an admirable reflection of the divine light which enlightens every man coming into this world, and who now from the height of heaven, where he prays for us, invites us to follow him, showing us with his same smile of yesteryear his palm and his crown.

Moreover, souls dedicated to good will make it their duty to act effectively in favor of the divine works for the extension of which the generous Theophanes, in the flower of his age, sacrificed his life and shed his blood, works so beautiful of the Propagation of the Faith and of the Holy Childhood. Already a Catholic orator, at the last Congress of Mechelen, nobly pleaded this cause, happily outlining a letter from Theophanes to express a wish worthy of his heart. M. Augustin Cochin, after having delivered an eloquent speech on the progress of the sciences and the arts from a religious point of view, invites the Christian and eminent men who listen to him to take several resolutions which he proposes to vote by acclamation with him, and the first of which is formulated as follows:

My first wish is in favor of the work of the Propagation of the Faith. (Applause.)

I do not understand how one can be a complete Catholic without energetically supporting in regions still closed to the Gospel, the men, our brothers and our models, who propagate the truth through martyrdom.

Gentlemen, their word spreads the truth, and their life proves it, . I read through a volume of the Annals of the Propagation of the Faith, at the moment when I was condemned to read a less edifying book, which so outraged the Christian world and disappointed the learned world. I was gripped by an involuntary comparison that brought tears to my eyes, not tears of anger; it's too easy, anger, and that proves nothing; we need tears of mourning and inconsolable charity towards those we fight, and the important thing is not to prove that a man is a man, but that Jesus is a God... I have therefore found in this book and in the Annals of the Propagation of the Faith an unexpected connection, two pages addressed by two men to their sister, pages both moved, delicate, sincere, and both written in the presence of the tomb, one by a brother to his sister who is dead, the other to his sister by a brother who is about to die.

"To this dead woman he loved, one of the two brothers, the most famous, recollecting himself and seeking in his soul what he has deepest, in his language what he has purest, what does he, Gentlemen? He speaks of fine questions, of discreet doubts, of tears mingled with the waves of Biblos by ancient women, of the mysteries of Adonis... That's all he finds to send, to the

beyond the grave, to his sister whom he calls a good genius!....

The other brother, unknown to men, illustrious before God, once a little shepherd, who later became a missionary, writes a letter to his sister which I ask your permission to read to you in its entirety:

To Mademoiselle Mélanie Vénard, at her father's, in Saint-Loup-sur-Thouet, by Parthenay

(Two Sevres).

“In a cage at the Tong-King, January 20, 1861, at midnight.

(That was two years ago, gentlemen, in the winter, at a time when several of us were perhaps at the ball!)"

— Follows the reading of the letter quoted above by us in extenso; this reading is accompanied by the loudest applause, and the orator adds:

"Gentlemen, between these two letters, between the two doctrines which inspire them, between the two states of the soul which they suppose, my choice is made, and this is why I recommend to you the work of the Propagation of the Faith! (Extended bravos.)

This thought of establishing a comparison between the letter of the impious Renan to his sister and that of the pious Théophane to the gentle Mélanie, is a happy thought, and we can easily imagine the striking contrast which at first must have moved the minds of members of Congress. But another no less effective success was not long in coming: this letter, which M. Cochin calls one of the finest pages in the history of the Martyrs of the nineteenth century, had also produced in the souls of more than three thousand listeners a sweet and pious emotion, and the next day the Catholic orator received in an envelope and without signature a thousand-franc note for the work of the Missions.

So let's hope that this generous-hearted person will also have imitators; and may the efforts we have made to make our work interesting, given our great weakness, lead Christian souls to acts of similar generosity, especially today that the peace treaty concluded between France and Cochinchina, the edict of religious liberty published by the ferocious Tu Duc, and the solemn embassy which has just been received in Paris, seem to promise that the era of Annamese persecutions will be closed forever. Then new apostolic workers will be able to leave to replace those who have fallen under the sword of the persecutors, to raise up so many scattered ruins, and to reap an abundant harvest in this field of the Father of the family, watered for too long by such pure and generous blood.

Thus dear Théophane, so devoted during his life to the Tong-Kinoise Church, will always work in heaven for the extension of the kingdom of God on earth and for the salvation of souls who will have to complete at the end of time the number of elected!

SPEECH DELIVERED by Mr.^GR THE BISHOP OF POITIERS

On February 2, 1832, in the parish church of St-Loup

ON THE OCCASION OF THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF THE MARTYRSHIP

BY J. THÉOPHANE VÉNARD, BEHEADED FOR THE FAITH IN THE TONG-KING.

You will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth. (Act. of Ap., i, 8.)

The word you have just heard, MT-CF, is the last that fell from the lips of the Incarnate Word while he lived among us. After he had uttered it, he was seen ascending to the heavens, and a cloud concealed him from the gaze of men. Now, this supreme testament of Christ has not been repudiated by our race; the marvel he promised was accomplished immediately, and it has continued to manifest itself without interruption for eighteen centuries. The Man-God had his witnesses, that is to say men who, at the cost of their blood and their life, made themselves guarantors of his incarnation, of his death, of his resurrection, guarantors of the divinity of his person and the divinity of his doctrine; he has had them at all hours of duration, he has had them at all points in space, he still has them, he has them everywhere, he will always have them.

Jerusalem had not yet been overthrown by Roman arms, but already, according to the oracle of Christ, the apostles had testified to him, not only in the Holy City and in Judea, but even beyond the limits of Europe. Roman Empire. The first century of the Christian era was not yet over, and already the holy Pope Clement certified that all the nations, following one another, had believed in Christ the God. And if it is objected to me that in many places this first breath of the apostolate left few traces after it, and that, in any case, it did not reach the then unknown half of our globe, I I will willingly grant that it was reserved for the apostolic succession to take up and continue, by slower and deeper work, the work of which the apostles had laid the foundation: so that the first taking possession of the whole world by the Gospel before the ruin of Jerusalem was only the trial and the prelude to a second more obstinate and more decisive task of evangelization which must be carried out successively throughout the earth before the final catastrophe...

It will therefore always have powerful reverberations in souls, Christians my Brothers, this supreme farewell and this supreme oracle of Christ to his disciples: "You will receive the virtue of the Holy Spirit who will come to you, and you will be my witnesses, not only here and there, but to the ends of the earth: Accipietis virtutem supervenientis Spiritus sancti in vos, et eritis mihi testes in Jerusalem, et in omni Judeâ, et usque ad ultimum terroe.

It is this supereminent force of the Holy Spirit which burst into the soul of your young compatriot, pious inhabitants of this parish, and which launched him into the apostolic career where he had the happiness of harvesting the palms of martyrdom. On this first anniversary of his immolation, we felt the need to come and sing the canticle of thanksgiving with you. It was sweet for us to approach his birthplace and his cradle, to kneel in this temple, to place ourselves between this baptistery and this tabernacle, and to intone there, in honor of the immense majesty of God Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the hymn of praise sung in heaven by the glorious college of the apostles and the white army of martyrs. Yes, for my part, it was a consolation, a relief, among so many and such deep sadnesses, to appear today in this place and to consecrate there, with an exceptional solemnity, this date of the second of February that your devotion will henceforth make you doubly holy and memorable. No longer able to see here below the face of him whom I called my son, and whom the decree of eternal precedence has installed for ever above the choir of the pontiffs, my love and my piety wanted at least to find on this soil the traces of his footsteps, in this church the scents of his prayer, on the faces of those close to him some remembrance of his features. History tells me that one day when Louis IX was holding his plenary court in a town near us, at Saumur, all the assistants showed themselves to be a young German prince, and said to each other that he was the son of Saint Elizabeth of Thuringia, and that Queen Blanche often kissed him with great devotion, seeking on his young forehead the traces of the kisses which the Saint had formerly placed there. My Brethren, a similar impression crossed my soul today. How to be surprised? Isn't it natural that our love, our religion towards the servants of God leads us to seek out and cherish all their vestiges?

So don't be surprised, NT-CF, if I come down from this pulpit without giving you a long speech. I have come to pray, to edify myself, to enjoy a consoling and magnificent spectacle, to pour out my soul before God and before you. I didn't come here to talk. And what can I tell you that you don't know in advance? All the past of the pious Théophane, everyone here knows it like me, better than me perhaps. And the final act of his life, a word expresses it more eloquently than all speeches. He was a martyr, that is enough, and all is said: Appellavi martyrem, proedicavi satis!.

Indeed, once legitimate documents establish the certainty and the cause of martyrdom, Pope Benedict XIV, interpreter of the whole tradition, teaches that there is no longer any room for discussion of holiness, because martyrdom contains in itself all holiness; and that it implies an absolute and immaculate purity of the soul. And although it is reserved for the apostolic authority to authentically declare the existence of martyrdom, and thus to authorize public and solemn worship, there are cases of evidence so manifest that they carry with them an invincible conviction in all minds. Now, such is the present case: incontestably your young fellow-citizen was a martyr; and to salute it by this name is to honor it with the finest of all panegyrics.

However, if there are strangers here whose pious curiosity would require details on the origin, on the qualities, on the virtues of the hero of this festival, their desire would be easily satisfied. The inhabitants of Nazareth said of Jesus with a sort of disdain: Is this not the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? And the Savior pointed out in this connection that no prophet is welcome in his own country, that it is the only place where he most often dwells without honor. My brethren, none of you would do such wrong here. You are unanimous in proclaiming that this child of blessing, from a Christian and honorable family, has always been a subject of edification among you; your worthy pastor strongly attests that he grew in age, in piety, in grace and in wisdom before God and before men. What did I say ? We have, on the thoughts and projects that the young Theophanes nourished from his earliest years, a testimony of the highest weight, because it emanated from himself. At the hour when the victim was nearing his sacrifice, and when the immolation was imminent, a last confidence escaped from his soul to pass into that of his brother Eusebius: My beloved, when you receive this letter, your brother will have had his head cut off; he will have shed all his blood for the most noble of causes, for God; he will be a martyr!!! It was the dream of my young years. When (I don't want to change anything in his expressions) when, as a tiny nine-year-old boy, I went to graze my goat on the slopes of Bel-Air, my eyes devoured the brochure where life and death were told of the Venerable Charles Cornay, and I said to myself: And I too want to go to the Tong-King, and I too want to be a martyr! O blessed hills which dominate the valley of Thouet, O blessed paths of the mountain, along which the little nine-year-old shepherd walked, already bearing before God the halo of martyrdom, because his heart contained the wish for it and that the future destined him to realize it: ah! henceforth your flowers will be more beautiful, your greenery sweeter, your waters more limpid, your appearance more cheerful! Your spring breezes will be mingled with more exquisite scents, I mean the perfumes of good desires, the emanations of holiness, the celestial odors of divine grace!

This vow of martyrdom, Théophane matured it in his soul, and during the years of his literary studies at the college of Doué, and during his philosophy course at the Petit-Séminaire de Montmorillon, and while he was preparing for holy orders. in our seminary in Poitiers. In these various asylums, he was successively, by his application as by his fervor, the model of pious scholars, the perfect example of clerical youth, the flower of the sacred Levites. His masters and classmates are present here in large numbers, and they will not give me the lie. Théophane always occupied a place of honor in their esteem: he was, in several respects, the pearl of the ecclesiastical novitiate. We judged thus Ourselves, and We felt the full extent of Our sacrifice, the day We had to accede to his request to enter the career of the Missionaries. But how to chain such noble impulses? how to hinder the eminence of the gifts of the Holy Spirit! Our spiritual paternity could not be less generous than that of nature. Now Theophane's father had said these great and memorable words: If the parents were opposed to the vocation of the Missionaries, how would the prediction of Jesus Christ be accomplished, who said that his Gospel would be announced through all the earth? Moreover, We had a presentiment that this young man would be great before the Lord, and We already looked upon him with respect, while kneeling humbly at Our feet, he received Our last counsels and our last blessings. Willingly We would have augured, aloud, that one day the sheaf of this generous reaper would rise and stand upright, rich in its ears of gold and purple, while ours, more humble and more vulgar, would come to line up around them and bow down in his presence Child, shall I who am your father, and these who are your elder brothers, we will one day bow before you on earth in honor and reverence ? Yes, it will be so, and we will give thanks to the Lord, if we live long enough to offer our incense to this blessed child and to inaugurate his image on the altars.

The Novitiate of the Missionary, the circumstances of his departure, the details of his life, of his works: MF, a volume is being prepared which will tell you these things.

The biographer will draw on various sources. Our Missionary had retained from the Vendéan the attachment to the country, the love of the family: and this feeling expressed itself in correspondence full of interest. This is where his profound sensitivity, his exquisite delicacy, and also his easy talent, his perspicacious mind, served by a graceful imagination and solid judgment, are revealed. How sweet it has been for us to leaf through these pages! We have more than once covered them with our kisses, and we have to ask forgiveness for having smeared some of them with our tears.

Another mine of information is still open to us.

This soul, so frank, so upright, was in a way transparent, she willingly allowed herself to be penetrated by friendly eyes. Endowed with a confident and communicative character, Théophane was accessible to the charms of friendship; he needed openness and outpouring. What he asked of others, others gave him with delight. To know him was to love him. Hence the eager testimonies which are rendered to him from all quarters. Thank you then, thank you to this venerable Superior of the Foreign Missions who came to join in this pious demonstration, and who is full of praise for our martyr. Thank you to this young Missionary from India, who was the privileged confidant of our Théophane, who descended further than any other into the secrets of this elite soul, and whose confidence in the intercession of his friend led . here today. These are the witnesses who must be consulted, these are the panegyrists who must be heard.

For me, I must hasten my story, because I promised to neglect the man and to speak only of the martyr. With what delight he learned, after a fairly long wait at the Hong-Kong procure, that his destination was fixed for the mission of the Tong-King! Ah! he had stripped himself of his freedom in the hands of his superiors; he had abdicated all right to opt and choose; he was not allowed to want anything. However, he still carried in his bosom this aspiration which grace had given birth to there so early: "And I, too, want to go to the Tong-King!" All his wishes are granted. His whole life is now tied to the Tong-King; the Tong-King is the occupation of all his thoughts. He speaks of it only with lyrical enthusiasm." The Western Tong-King Mission, towards which I am going to direct my steps, and to which my affections have long returned, is a truly beautiful Mission, beautiful in its strong organization and powerful; beautiful in the number and fervor of its Christians, whose number reaches 150, and even more beautiful in hope; beautiful in its native clergy, which numbers 000 priests, under whose direction 80 catechists walk; beautiful in its communities religious where 200 sisters live; beautiful in its seminaries which contain 600 seminarians; beautiful in its illustrious head, Mgr Pierre Retord, Bishop of Acanthe, whose praise can be summed up by saying that, since his episcopate, he has increased the number of its sheep of 300; beautiful finally in its martyrs, immortal flowers that the hand of the Lord has picked in the field of his predilection! The martyrs are the patrons, the protectors of the Missions which have given them to the kingdom of heaven; the Their blood speaks loudly before God, and the memory of their victory strengthens the courage of those who still remain in the place of combat. And he ends his letter by saying: "Tell me, brother, what an honor and what happiness if the good Lord deigned... You understand."

Thus, it is always the cry of the little herdsman of Bel-Air: And me too, I want to go to the Tong-King! and I too want to be a martyr! The first of these wishes was granted; the second was soon to be.

The martyr's nuptial robe, more desirable than Rachel's hand, is expensive enough to buy. Our Missionary obtained it by seven years of work, by seven years of trials and sufferings. For a moment it seemed that the sun of the Gospel was finally going to shine freely on the vast empire of Annam. Great hopes were conceived; Alas! great and lamentable disappointments followed them. The letters of our Missionary contain appreciations which will one day be reproduced by the chisel of history. Ah! he exclaims on the date of May tenth, 1860, what are the human probabilities before the divine counsels? It is therefore God who, for reasons known only to himself, has allowed the hour of our deliverance to be delayed, that even the measure of our evils has overflowed like a raging sea which breaks its dams and carries desolation everywhere. and death... Yes, O merciful God, look upon us with mercy, because we have offended you. It is because of our sins that our evils have increased; and it is better that we strike our breasts, than stretch out our hand to strike those of our brothers.

The letters which followed this one were not only signed by an apostle, but by a captive of Jesus Christ. I don't feel strong enough to read them to you, and it would be a kind of crime to mutilate them. Besides, they are already known to most of you. What calm, what strength, what superhuman wisdom in the answers given to this difficult interrogation! One senses the fulfillment of the Master's promise: When they summon you to their courtrooms, when they summon you before their tribunals, on account of my name, do not trouble yourself how you will speak to them, nor what you will answer them: for what you must say will be given to you at once, and it is not you who will speak, but the Spirit of your Father who will speak in you The victim is so young, she is so sweet, she bears so much candor and good grace in her features that she excites the compassion of these barbarians, and that she becomes the object of an interest which could shake her virtue if her virtue were not unshakable. The cangue, the flagellation, the pincers, the planks bristling with nails are spared him; they even invent a lighter chain for it than for others. They conjure him to think of his youth, to save his life by a word, by a gesture. What ! he exclaims, I have preached the religion of the cross up to this day, and you want me to abjure it! I don't value the life of this world so much that I want to buy it at the cost of an apostasy! It is not only to his faith, it is to his innocence that traps are set. The prisoner of Christ becomes an avenger of morality at the same time as an evangelist of doctrine. He teaches these stupid pagans the dignity of man and woman, and he brings to their brows the beginnings of a blush.

The torture of his detention lasted two long months. He had entered his cage on the feast day of Saint Andrew, that intrepid lover of the cross; he was to come out of it, to ascend to heaven, only

under the auspices of his beloved Mother, the Virgin Mary, on the day of her Purification and the Presentation of her Son in the temple. During all this captivity, what ardent wishes issued from his soul for the salvation of the people who were going to immolate him! A great mandarin, he replied to his judge, I came to Annam to preach religion; I am not guilty of any crime that deserves death; but if Annam kills me, I will shed my blood with joy for Annam. - Oh! yes, he exclaimed a few days later, I loved and still love this Annamese people with an ardent love. If God had granted me many years, it seems to me that I would have devoted myself entirely to the building of the Tong-Kinoise Church."

This love for his adopted people does not make him forget his own. The sight of the impending torture cannot dry up the living source of tenderness which bubbles up in his soul. He is until the end the good man who draws good things from the good treasury of his heart. Never has his speech taken on more sensitivity, more charm. The loveliest memories, the sweetest affections of his childhood offer themselves to his imagination and place themselves under the coarse brush which serves him as a pen. To his old father, whom he still believes to be on earth and who has been dead for a year already, to his brother who lives in the world and to the one who is engaged in the priesthood, finally to his beloved sister of whom he does not know happiness and who was finally able to put on the veil of virgins that he had so often wished for her, to each and every one, he addresses a final farewell, final advice, final testimonies of tenderness; to each and every one, he gives a rendezvous to heaven. Maybe tomorrow, he said, I will be led to death. Happy death, isn't it? Desired death that leads to life! In all probability, my head will be severed; glorious ignominy of which heaven will be the price. At this news, dear sister, you will cry, but with happiness. See then your brother, the halo of the martyrs crowning his head, the palm of the triumphants rising in his hand. A little more, and my soul will leave the earth, end its exile, end its fight. I ascend to heaven, I touch the homeland, I win the victory, I will enter the abode of the elect, see beauties that the eye of man has never seen, enjoy joys that he has never seen. never tasted, to hear harmonies that the ear has never heard. But before that, the grain must be ground, the bunch of grapes must be pressed. Will I be a bread, a wine according to the taste of the Father of the family? I hope for it from the grace of the Saviour, from the protection of his Immaculate Mother. This is why, although still in the arena, I sing the song of triumph as if I were already victorious."

He was already the winner indeed. But the victory was going to be more disputed than he had thought. Like the glorious martyr Ignatius, whose feast immediately preceded his sacrifice, he had to be ground. He had sought to console his people by assuring them that he would not have to endure much torture. A light stroke of the saber, he wrote, will separate my head, like a spring flower that the master of the garden picks for his pleasure. It was not so. Did emotion waver the sword of the executioners? Did pity shake the hand of these barbarians? I do not know ; but it was not until the fifth sabre-thrust, writes the vicar apostolic, that the head was separated from the body. Thrown into the river, she was found twelve days later, four leagues from the place where the execution had taken place. Ten other days having elapsed, the coadjutor of this same apostolic vicar, the new bishop of Acanthus, the companion and tender friend of the martyr, had the consolation of burying this dear head with his hands, and he fed the hope to reunite the members soon with the chief. He himself, on a faithful account, also wrote the acts of this glorious martyrdom. May they reach us soon, and satisfy our just desires to know the slightest circumstances of this heroic end!

In the meantime, it is sweet for me to repeat the words with which the Bishop of Pentacomie had sought in advance to soften the pain of a father whom he believed to be still alive. Already, he wrote to her, I seem to have seen his holy mother, informed in time of the martyrdom of her dear Théophane, running to the gate of Paradise and waiting there for her beloved son. Seeing him approach, recognizing his delicate features, his piercing eyes, his small size, his prompt words: It is really you, my son! she exclaims. You have been faithful to the piety and the faith that I have so often inspired in you; you have confessed your God before the wicked who despise him; you did not fear the plank bristling with nails, nor the rods, nor the pliers, nor the sword. Allow your mother to kiss the wounds on your neck. How they tore you to pieces! It is your glory, my son. Come, let me introduce you to Mary whom you loved so much; she will present you to Jesus, her divine Son, whose cross you carried so well, and whose steps you followed so courageously. Come, in the company of your guardian angel and your patron saints, come: I will present you to the holy martyrs among whom you will take your place. Then, in our bliss, we will pray that your loving and tenderly loved father, that your sweet sister and your dear brothers will all come and enjoy the happiness we enjoy, when it pleases God to call them there! It is thus, MF Christians, that two venerable bishops, always placed themselves in the face of martyrdom, exhaust all the delicacies of kindness in order to convey more gently the consolations of faith to the heart of a family of which they seem to themselves having become the members, so true was their affection, their paternal interest for him who flew away in glory!

And now, MT-CF, I have a few more words to say. Obviously, in the divine councils, such holocausts must not benefit only the victims. What omen are they for these infidel countries? What will come of it to ourselves? To answer these questions we would need to be admitted into the secret thoughts of God. All that is allowed to us is to humbly question the designs of his Providence.

Finally, finally, those distant lands, those beaches of the Far East, so long soaked in the sweats of the apostles, so often fattened with the blood of martyrs; finally, finally, will these cities so resistant to grace, so hardened against all advances of mercy, understand and recognize the day of the visit of the Lord? Will these immense regions end up opening their bosoms to the free reign of the Gospel? Is the redoubled fury and carnage that we are witnessing a last effort of Satan against his conqueror, and is Christ Jesus preparing to sit soon on the altars of the dethroned idols, to take possession of their temples purified? Tu-Duc, the atrocious Tu-Duc, is Maximilian-Hercules the subject of a tenth and final persecution, and will we see the Constantine of this great Annamite empire appear? Does the future hold flourishing Christianity in these age-old haunts of superstition and barbarism? The Gospel, so often presented, so long postponed, will it one day be the law of these peoples? Ah! I do not know; but, if certain signs make me hope, others make me tremble. At least, what I certainly know is that the blood of martyrs, when it does not sprout whole peoples of Christians, is nevertheless never sterile; what I know is that, for evangelical workers, if there is less consolation and fruit in gleaning than in reaping, there is more fatigue and more merit; what I know is that to advance to the last frontiers of the globe to bring there the light of the Gospel and the grace of Jesus Christ to a few souls of good will is the supreme heroism of apostolate; what I finally know is that our priesthood is at the service of the justice of God, as it is at the orders of his love, and that it is in his attributions to render inexcusable those who are not given to him to conquer. Certainly, the Catholic apostolate will not have failed in its mission. One could even say that he persisted in it to excess. In whatever city you enter, said the Master to his apostles, if the inhabitants chase you and repel you, get away from this accursed city, and shake on it

the dust of your feet as a testimony which will bring about his condemnation." My Brothers, this word of the Savior is the only one that the Christian apostolate seems not to have accepted. Against the intractable cities, against the rebellious kingdoms, he has holy stubbornness. A hundred times rejected from these beaches, he has tried a hundred times to force access to them; a hundred times driven from these cities, he has a hundred times passed through their gates. Lord, Lord, do not convert into weapons of revenge. in your hands these noble deeds of priestly charity; do not turn into burning coals these prodigies of love. No, no, we never want to say with the Psalmist: Pour out, Lord, your wrath on these nations which have not known and on those peoples who have not called on your name." We ask you rather to listen to the cry of the blood of your servants, and to grant to their holy death the conquests that their life could not obtain.

But we also ask you, Lord, to always remember this West, from which the rays of your doctrine and your grace are incessantly departing for the countries of the dawn. MF, we live in troubled times, in a deeply shaken society. Wise people wonder what the future holds for Europe. Could it be true that by carrying the faith to distant nations, we hasten the displacement of the sacred torch which must move away from us? Are we to believe that Christian and Catholic life is on the verge of abandoning us, and that the vital power of Christianity will be transferred to new peoples, to races of neophytes? Fénelon expressed this apprehension one day, in a speech that we like to recall before the heirs of those who heard him, before the guests of this house from which come the men through whom the last remnants of the Gentiles hear the good new. But has time vindicated these eloquent and sinister omens? It doesn't seem so. Neither the East grew rich nor the West impoverished in the proportions that were prophesied. The Lord is master of his gifts. It did not please him to treat all nations equally, and to reveal to them alike the dispensations of his grace... Let us not scrutinize the depth of his mysteries: eternity will tell us that even in his preferences and his apparent disfavours, the good pleasure of God was still governed by justice and mercy. There are peoples among whom more grace would have abounded only to give rise to more sin, and where more love would have attracted more wrath. Be that as it may, the West, which bears in its flanks the See of the Vicar of Jesus Christ, will remain to the end the center of the Church; there are the noble parts of this great body, there are the organs of respiration, the great arteries which start from the heart and end there. France, you will always keep your privileges. You are the main buttress of the divine edifice. The stone that the hand of Christ placed on the slope of your mountains needs you as a point of support. France, you will always be Christian, you will always be Catholic, and for that you will always show yourself to be universal in your apostolate. Continue, continue to send your sons to all horizons of the world. The more you give to others, the more you will be sure to keep for yourself. No, they won't get rich at your expense. In this matter, to give is to acquire; to spread is to accumulate; to expand is to increase and strengthen.

O dear and illustrious Church of Poitiers, always keep this character of universality which distinguishes you from your cradle. However noble and fertile your own soil may be, you have never allowed yourself to be imprisoned in the narrow barriers of a diminished rationalism. Raise your eyes and see: even today, your children are everywhere, they evangelize the Indies, Madura, Manchuria, Sutchuen, Chinese Tartary, the kingdom of Siam, Japan. One of them, armed with the pastoral staff, causes a forest of churches to spring up as if by magic on the soil of the Sandwich Islands: Honolulu, Koala, Maui, Halava yesterday saw their sanctuaries rising from the earth at his voice.

Senegal would have witnessed similar marvels, if the Lord had not prematurely called back to itself the valiant worker whom we had dispatched to the burning coasts of Africa. Another child of the Bocage Vendée lies buried in the wild mountains of the Himalayas, murdered by the saber of the Michemis on the borders of Tibet. The ocean, I am told, has just engulfed one of our sons before he has even set foot on the land that was to be the scene of his labors. Finally Théophane Vénard found the palms of martyrdom on the same land where the venerable Charles Corrnay had already picked them. Thank you, my God, thank you for so many graces, thank you for so many glories. If the voice of your Spirit speaks in other souls, let them obey it. Go, I will say, go, quick angels, go, quick messengers, go heal the ills of a beleaguered Christianity, go pour balm on its bleeding wounds; go and take up the work of your brothers, cultivate what they had sown, perhaps reap joyful sheaves where they sowed the seed in tears. We will not stop your ardor. Our apostles, our martyrs, it is our glory, it is our wealth, it is our good. The priestly tribe is only maintained and increased among us because it provides its ample contingent for apostolic recruitment. God will not be outdone in generosity. The sacrifices that we make to him with so much heart will be the principle of a more abundant and more fruitful blessing for our native Missions.

Let's finish. Saint Cyprian recommended noting the days when some Christian lost his life for the faith. This is what we wanted to do today, MT-CF We wanted that, from this first anniversary, this day received its note and its mark so well, that the memory could never be lost among you. We wanted this parish to be able to say from now on these beautiful words of Saint Jerome: "The strength of nations is the triumph of their martyrs; however, we too have reason to be proud of ours." that we have not encroached on and we will not encroach on the questions justly reserved for the Apostolic See. No, we do not yet render public worship to our martyr. We will content ourselves with studying his virtues, admiring his courage, and asking God for the strength to follow in his footsteps. We will praise God who is wonderful in his Saints and who is holy in all his works. We will pray for the extension and propagation of the faith in infidel countries. Finally, holding in our hands the candles blessed by the Church on this solemnity, we will thank Jesus and his Mother for having called our young apostle to them on this feast. For he too was a virgin wax, a pure wax by the whiteness of his soul and the innocence of his flesh; he too, through the generosity of his apostolate, was a burning light, a burning wax. He therefore deserved to be introduced and presented today by Mary in the temple of glory. And just now we could not help associating the thought of the disciple with that of the Master, while, walking in procession through this church and this public square of his native parish, we blessed the Lord for what he had condescended to prepare a light for the enlightenment of the Gentiles and for the glory of his people Israel: Amen.