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LIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. 
 
 Received October, 1894. 
 Accessions No . J~^ 3 2 2- ClcWS No. 
 
 / 
 
LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 CARDINAL CHEVERUS 
 
I ci 
 

 r. 
 
/'\r(:lit)i,sfi()|) of Bordeaux, 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF 
 
 CARDINAL CHEVERUS, 
 
 ARCHBISHOP OF BORDEAUX, 
 
 AND FORMERLY 
 
 BISHOP OF BOSTON, IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 J. HUEN-DUBOURG, J'^'^'/'' 
 
 PRIEST, AND LATE PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY. U 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
 By E. STEWART. 
 
 is^:^ 
 
 OS' '". r 
 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY 
 1839. 
 

 to Act yff Congress, 
 
 Entered according to Act yff Congress, in the year 1839, by 
 
 James Munroe and Cohfant, 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 FOLSOM, WELLS, AND THURSTON, 
 
 PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
^^ 4 ,/ Oir -*/ 
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 In the preparation of the present work, I have 
 proceeded throughout on the principle, that the most 
 scrupulous fidelity to the original is the first duty of 
 a translator. Accordingly, it has been my endeavour, 
 not only to preserve the general sense and spirit of 
 each sentence, but, so far as the genius of languages 
 so dissimilar would admit, to present in the English 
 a translation in all respects literally conforming to 
 the French. I should state, however, that, where quo- 
 tations from our own writers are introduced, I have 
 not deemed it my duty to retranslate the French, but, 
 wherever the original English was accessible, I have 
 preferred always to cite it directly. 
 
 I have found many things in the course of the 
 work which I would gladly have modified, had I felt 
 myself at liberty to do so ; and, perhaps, had I yield- 
 ed to my inclination in this respect, I might have 
 rendered the book more generally acceptable. I have 
 contented myself, however, with correcting, in a note 
 at the bottom of the page, any important error which 
 
iv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 I have discovered, as to matters of fact ; leaving 
 faults of style and sentiment to the candor and good 
 sense of the reader. Statements which seemed to 
 require confirmation or explanation, I have been at 
 considerable pains to investigate, and have given the 
 results in an Appendix. Whatever estimate be 
 set upon the value of some of the authorities there 
 cited, I am persuaded, that, upon inspection, every 
 candid and intelligent mind will at once acquit the 
 biographer of the charge of fabrication and wilful 
 misstatement; a charge brought against him, in certain 
 of the Boston journals, since the publication of the 
 first two Books of this Translation. Knowing the high 
 estimation for pietj and integrity in which M. Dubourg 
 was held, both in Bordeaux and in Paris, and having 
 myself observed that he enjoyed the confidence and 
 intimate friendship of Cardinal Cheverus, it was with 
 concern, that I noticed, in the respectable journals 
 alluded to, strictures so deeply affecting his honesty, 
 and the truth and credibility of his narrative. That 
 these strictures are in the main unfounded, I cannot 
 entertain a doubt ; and, so far as they are directed 
 against particular statements as to matters of fact, 
 I think the evidence furnished in the Appendix abun- 
 dantly proves them so. Errors there undoubtedly 
 are ; and, looking to all the circumstances, it would 
 be very strange if there were not. 
 
 The sources from which M. Dubourg derived much 
 of his information, although he himself seems to have 
 considered them sufficient, were obviously by no means 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. V 
 
 SO full as could have been desired, or as would 
 seem to have been absolutely indispensable to the 
 completeness and entire accuracy of his work. The 
 Cardinal's papers, indeed, the most important source 
 of all, were in his possession ; but the information 
 to be derived from them could hardly have been other- 
 wise than imperfect and fragmentary. The Cardinal 
 himself, the only person, probably, capable of con- 
 necting the disjointed parts, interpreting with preci- 
 sion the hints contained in them, and supplying from 
 recollection such portions as might be wanting, had 
 died suddenly ; and even had his modesty previously 
 conceived, or the solicitude of friends suggested, the 
 idea of collecting and arranging the materials for his 
 biography, he was not a man to have concerned him- 
 self in an object of this sort, with the all-absorbing 
 cares of a most laborious ministry upon him, duties in 
 his view paramount to all others. Further, it was then 
 more than ten years since he had left America, and forty 
 since his first arrival here. The memorials of his labors 
 in his New England diocese had many of them passed 
 into oblivion ; and of such as remained, so retiring and 
 unobtrusive were his habits, the full knowledge was 
 confined to very few. To present an accurate view of 
 his ministry among us, it was necessary for his biogra- 
 pher to collect these memorials from a distance of three 
 thousand miles. If, under such circumstances of 
 difficulty, M. Dubourg succeeded in obtaining any 
 materials whatever from this country, of course he 
 could hardly be supposed capable of judging with 
 
Vi TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE, 
 
 nice accuracy of their value ; if they were sent to 
 him as authentic, he would feel himself justified in 
 so regarding them, and in using them accordingly. 
 A foreigner, moreover, and at best, probably, but very 
 imperfectly acquainted with even the general condition 
 of things among us, it is not at all surprising, that he 
 has sometimes, in his views of particular classes in par- 
 ticular regions and towns, and of the state of opinion 
 and feeling on particular subjects, fallen into mistakes. 
 What wonder, for example, that, being informed of 
 individual cases of Protestant ministers who denied 
 the necessity of baptism, of the existence of a whole 
 denomination among us who discard it entirely, and of 
 another denomination, comprehending nearly half our 
 churches, by whom the ordinance of infant baptism 
 is set aside, he should infer the prevalence among our 
 clergy of a disbelief in this sacrament altogether ? 
 Again, having learned, the all but absolute control 
 possessed by Bishop Cheverus over the people of 
 his charge, a control so complete as to be the subject 
 of general admiration and encomium, — having an 
 eye also, it may be, to the distinguished worth of 
 the pastor himself, as being likely to give a tone to 
 the character of his people, — nay, looking only to 
 the simple fact of their being Catholics, itself suf- 
 ficient, in the mind of a Catholic, as a ground of 
 favorable comparison in respect to piety with those 
 whom his church regards as heretics and apostates, — 
 what wonder that the biographer has spoken of them 
 in terms which to Protestant ears sound, to say the 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. Vll 
 
 least, invidious ? Considering, also, the constant at- 
 tendance of Protestants upon the Catholic preach- 
 ing, the court paid by them to the Bishop person- 
 ally, and the universal respect in which he was held 
 by all classes, what wonder that the number and 
 quality of the conversions effected by him should 
 be imagined greater than they actually were ? What 
 wonder, too, let me here add, that the Catholic 
 priest should represent the Catholic bishop as always 
 triumphant in the vindication of his faith ? Is it not 
 perfectly natural ? Is it natural, on the contrary, for 
 men, holding to any form of faith whatsoever, to ac- 
 knowledge the arguments on which that faith is rest- 
 ed, and which satisfy their own minds, to be success- 
 fully met and combated, however others may view 
 the matter ? A man may make an acknowledgment 
 of this sort when he has concluded to renounce his 
 religion, but never while he holds to it. 
 
 Is it charged against the biographer, generally, 
 that he indulges in indiscriminate panegyric of his 
 subject, in exaggeration and overstatement ? I reply, 
 it is the French style. A book written by a French- 
 man, and for Frenchmen, will necessarily partake of 
 the characteristics of the French ; eulogium will 
 often run into excess ; strict, philosophical exactness 
 will frequently be violated ; incidents, in themselves 
 trivial, will, here and there, be magnified into im- 
 portance ; and over the whole, an air, a coloring, 
 will be thrown, not altogether consonant to the rules 
 of a chastened taste. But, apart from general con- 
 
iriii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 siderations, — we have here a work, — the author 
 a Catholic priest, — the subject, the life of a Catholic 
 Cardinal, — a Cardinal of France, — Cardinal Chev- 
 erus ; — a title, in itself, of august import ; and, as 
 borne by a subject of the realm, a proud theme ; but, 
 associated with the man, appealing to every senti- 
 ment of deepest admiration and reverence, — a prel- 
 ate of the like of whom the whole history of the 
 church furnishes but few examples, in devotion to its 
 interests, in virtue, in faith, piety, charity, humility, 
 disinterested self-denial and self-sacrifice ; the pride 
 of the priesthood, and revered alike by Catholics, 
 heretics, and unbelievers ; caressed by royalty, and 
 the devoted pastor of the poor. On such a theme, 
 surely, if on any, enthusiasm may well be par- 
 doned in a biographer, himself a Frenchman, a Cath- 
 olic, a priest, writing for Frenchmen and Catholics. 
 If, accordingly, he presents his illustrious subject, 
 on all occasions, under all circumstances, as the 
 object of a reverential, enthusiastic admiration, which 
 can hardly pay him suflScient honor, — if, in a com- 
 parison with others, both he and all that apper- 
 tain to him are presented at a decided advantage, 
 — if, in writing his character, the pen runs constant- 
 ly into a description of the purest, loftiest, loveliest 
 excellence, and even his weaknesses are set forth 
 in the light of virtues, — surely, there is much in the 
 theme to justify it ; and men are not so dull, that 
 they cannot make the needful allowance, and derive 
 pleasure, and instruction, and a holy incitement, from 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 \X 
 
 dwelling on the features (which cannot be disguised) 
 of the good man who is here set before them. The 
 portraiture may need to be viewed through a medium 
 which shall soften the coloring somewhat ; but, I 
 venture to assert, without fear of contradiction, there 
 is not a line on all the face, which is not instantly 
 reflected in every memory that retains the image of 
 the living original. 
 
 In conclusion, — lest any should misapprehend the 
 object of these remarks, — I would observe that I do 
 not ask any peculiar indulgence for the present work. 
 Considered in its proper aspect, as a French book, as 
 the work of a Catholic, as composed under circum- 
 stances almost necessarily precluding entire accuracy 
 as to certain incidental points, I can feel no hesita- 
 tion in submitting it to the test of enlightened criti- 
 cism. To judge of it without reference to these par- 
 ticulars would be clearly unworthy aught that can be 
 called criticism ; condemnation under such a rule 
 would reflect discredit only on the critic himself, as 
 it would be tantamount to condemning the author on 
 the ground that he is not a Protestant and an Amer- 
 ican. 
 
 Of the general fidelity and value of this work, I 
 have already remarked that I can entertain no doubt. 
 If any thing were previously wanting to a full convic- 
 tion on this point, it has been abundantly supplied by 
 the results of my investigation with regard to partic- 
 ular statements which have been questioned, and 
 
X TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 which, as will appear in the Appendix, have been 
 confirmed even in cases I had myself, in the first 
 instance, deemed to be errors. 
 
 With these observations, I leave the book with an 
 intelligent and candid public. 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 To write the biography of men eminent for virtue, 
 and exhibit to the world the excellent examples which 
 they have left behind in their passage through it, I 
 regard as one of the most important services that 
 can be rendered to religion and to society. It is to 
 do honor to the faith which has inspired their labors 
 and formed their exalted characters, and to present 
 to mankind the most powerful incentive to virtue, that 
 of example. 
 
 I cannot, then, better employ the leisure which 
 Providence has granted me in my retirement from my 
 former labors, than by» devoting it to writing the biog- 
 raphy of a Prince of the church, who, throughout his 
 life, was an affecting example of every virtue, an hon- 
 or to religion, and the glory of the episcopal office. 
 
 Having myself been born and having resided in 
 the neighbourhood of Mayenne, the birth-place of 
 Cardinal Cheverus, I must not leave to the pen of a 
 stranger the honorable task of commemorating the 
 brightest ornament of my country ; especially as 
 Providence has placed in my hands all the materials 
 necessary to such a work. 
 
Xll AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 From the lips of many individuals at Mayenne, I 
 have learned all that relates to the childhood and youth 
 of Monseigneur Cheverus, as well as the first- 
 fruits of his ministry in that city, before the revolu- 
 tion of 1793. As regards the remainder of his life, 
 I have been able to obtain accurate information : — 
 1st, from the very valuable and minute accounts re- 
 ceived from Bordeaux ; 2ndly, from various letters 
 and public prints from this city as well as from Mon- 
 tauban and Boston ; and 3dly, from the papers, left 
 by His Eminence at his decease. Such are the au- 
 fhentic sources which have been at my command. If, 
 in the course of the work, I have not referred to 
 them severally, in regard to each individual fact, it 
 has been to avoid increasing the size of the volume 
 without any advantage to the reader ; and in some 
 cases because it was impossible to do so ; as the ar- 
 ticles in the American journals, probably to save 
 postage, were generally sent to me detached from the 
 papers which contained them, the titles of which were 
 therefore unknown to me. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these aids, I perceive the de- 
 fects and imperfections of my work. But, how- 
 ever imperfect it may be, I feel assured that it will 
 be useful, and that one can hardly read the account 
 of so many virtuous deeds without desiring to be- 
 come better. 
 
 Some readers, perhaps, will find but little interest 
 in certain religious details contained in the work. Or 
 the style may seem to have borrowed too ecclesiasti- 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. xiil 
 
 cal a tone, very unlike that of their usual course of 
 reading. But I beg them to consider that every sub- 
 ject demands a style peculiar to itself The life of a 
 warrior, of a magistrate, or of any man of the world, 
 should be written in a very different manner from, that 
 of a bishop. The latter, particularly, calls for a se- 
 rious, a religious style. 
 
 The historian should exhibit the prelate, whose life 
 he writes, as the man of God and servant of religion ; 
 preparing himself by piety and study for his exalted 
 ministry, and, when he has entered upon it, doing all 
 the good in his power, but guided always by the influ- 
 ence of faith, of charity, and of an enlightened zeal ; 
 engaging with a holy ardor in works which in the 
 eyes of the world may seem small, but which are 
 great, noble, and divine in the eye of religion. Other- 
 wise the historian would be unfaithful to his charac- 
 ter, placing the glory of a bishop where it does not 
 truly lie, and keeping his real excellence out of sight. 
 Now, to accomplish this task, the details and language 
 must be wholly of a clerical cast. Religion herself 
 should guide the pen, and write the history of her 
 favorite son. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 Translator's Preface ...... iii 
 
 Author's Preface ...... xi 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 From the Birth of the Cardinal, in 1768, to his 
 Departure from France, in 1792. 
 
 Birth and Family of Cheverus .... 1 
 
 His Mother ...... 2 
 
 Traits in Childhood and at School . . . . 4 
 
 His first Communion, and Tonsure ... 5 
 
 Presented to the Bishop of Mans. The Bishop's Interest in him 6 
 Made Prior of Torbechet, and Chaplain Extraordinary to Monsieur 7 
 
 Lawsuit in reference to the Income of the Priory . 7 
 
 Goes to Paris, and is presented to Monsieur . . .9 
 
 Enters the College of Louis-le-Grand in Paris . . 9 
 
 Laxity of the College Discipline . . . .10 
 
 Exemplary Conduct of Cheverus at College . . 10 
 
 His judicious Choice of College Friends . . .11 
 
 His Talents, and Distinction at College ... 14 
 
 Maintains a philosophical Thesis in a public Disputation . 16 
 
 Enters the theological Seminary of St. Magloire . 17 
 
 His Intimacy with the Abbe Maccarthy . . .18 
 
 His ecclesiastical Studies ..... 18 
 
 Disorderly Conduct of the Students at the Sorbonne . 19 
 
 His respectful Deportment and Diligence . . 20 
 
 His Attention to the Graces of Elocution . . .20 
 
 Liberal Offer of the Superior of St. Sulpice . . 21 
 
Xvi CONTENTS. 
 
 Is ordained Deacon ..... 21 
 
 Is admitted to Priest's Orders by Dispensation from Rome . 22 
 
 Appointed Canon of Mans, and Vicar of Mayenne 
 
 His zealous Labors at Mayenne ... 
 
 Refuses to take the Oath to the Constitution 
 
 Is ejected from his Vicarage, and silenced 
 
 Appointed Curate of Mayenne, and Vicar-General 
 
 Forced to leave his Curacy 
 
 Goes to Paris, where he remains in Concealment 
 
 Embarks for England .... 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Life of Cardinal Cheverus during his Absence from 
 Frakce. 
 
 Declines the Offer of Relief from the British Government 30 
 Gives Lessons in a Boarding-School. Respect of the Principal 31 
 
 Assists his destitute Countrymen ... 31 
 By the Aid of his Pupils he perfects himself in the English 39 
 
 Preaches his first English Sermon ... 33 
 
 Opens a Catholic Chapel in London . . .34 
 
 Leaves the Boarding School ... * 35 
 
 Gives Lessons to the Son of an English Nobleman . 35 
 
 Thinks of leaving England .... 36 
 
 Is invited to take Charge of a College at Cayenne . . 37 
 Wishes to join the Bishop of Dol in the Quiberon Expedition 38 
 
 Receives a Letter from the Abbe Matignon . . 39 
 
 Importance of the Boston Station ... 40 
 
 Determines to go to Boston . . , . .41 
 
 Relinquishes his Patrimony . . . . 41 
 
 Sails for Boston . . . . . .43 
 
 Joy of iVL Matignon on his Arrival ... 44 
 
 Appointed Assistant Missionary for New England . . 45 
 
 Condition of the New England Mission ... 45 
 
 Prejudices against the Catholic Church . . .46 
 
CONTENTS. Xvii 
 
 Mr. Thayer 47 
 
 Tender Friendship of MM. Matignon and Cheverus . 48 
 
 Their exemplary Life, and apostolical Devotedness . . 49 
 
 Their Virtue triumphs over Prejudice ... 60 
 
 A Protestant Minister attempts to convert them . . 50 
 
 Tribute of a Protestant Journal .... 51 
 
 The Protestants go to hear M. Cheverus . . .52 
 
 Winning Character of his Preaching ... 52 
 
 Gratification of M. Matignon at his Success . . .53 
 
 Gradual Abatement of Prejudice against the Catholics . 53 
 
 His Instructions to the Catholics, and Influence over them 54 
 He inspires universal Confidence . . . .55 
 
 Manages the temporal Affairs of many of his Parishioners 57 
 
 Applies himself to the Study of Belles- Lettres . . 58 
 
 Is offered the Charge of St. Mary's Church in Philadelphia 60 
 Visits the State of Maine, and builds a Church at Newcastle CI 
 Learns the Language of the Penobscot and Passamaquoddy 
 
 Indians . . . . . . . Gl 
 
 Visits these Tribes ..... 63 
 
 His first Meeting with the Indians . . . .64 
 
 Partakes of a Repast with them .... 65 
 
 Privations and Labors . . . . . .65 
 
 Encouragements of his Mission .... 66 
 
 Amiable Traits of Character in the Indians . . .67 
 
 Proofs of their Respect and Affection for him . . 68 
 
 Anecdote. Their Abhorrence of the Execution of Louis XVI. 71 
 Zeal of M. Cheverus during the Yellow Fever in Boston 72 
 
 High Respect shown him by the People of Boston . . 74 
 
 Consulted by Members of the Legislature . . 76 
 
 Opens a Subscription for building a Catholic Church . 77 
 
 The Building begun, and carried on as the Funds are raised 78 
 His Family urge him to return to France. His Irresolution 79 
 Is persuaded by Bishop Carroll to remain in America . 80 
 
 The Church completed, and consecrated by Bishop Carroll 81 
 Ceremony of the Consecration. Illumination of the Church 82 
 Religious Services in the new Church ... 83 
 
 He attends two Convicts at Northampton . . .85 
 
 b* 
 
Xviii CONTENTS. 
 
 Rebukes the Females assembled to witness their Execution 87 
 
 Overcomes the Prejudices of the Protestants in Northampton 88 
 
 Correspondence with Madam Seton. Her Conversion . 89 
 
 By his Advice she founds a House of the Sisters of Charity 91 
 
 He is appointed Bishop of Boston. His Pain on Promotion 93 
 
 Consecrated by Bishop Carroll in the Cathedral at Baltimore 94 
 
 Preaches at the Consecration of M. Flaget . . 94 
 
 Ecclesiastical Regulations agreed upon by the Bishops . 95 
 
 Simple and modest Life of the new Bishop of Boston . 97 
 
 His apostolical Labois. Anecdote of a Sailor . . 99 
 
 Affection of the Catholics. Baptismal Anecdote . 100 
 He preaches in Protestant Churches . . . .100 
 
 His Style of Preaching on these Occasions . . 101 
 
 Examples. Influence of these Discourses . . . 103 
 
 Conferences with Protestant Ministers . . . 106 
 
 Remarkable Conversions ..... 108 
 
 His Charity to the refugee Colonists . . . Ill 
 Character of these Refugees . . . . .112 
 
 Consecrates the Cathedral of New York . . . 115 
 
 Letter of Condolence to the Catholic Prelates of Ireland . 116 
 
 His Thanksgiving Discourse on the Downfall of Napoleon 118 
 
 Death of Archbishop Carroll .... 119 
 
 He refuses the Office of Assistant Bishop of Baltimore . 120 
 
 His Letter to the Holy See on this Subject . . 121 
 
 Second Letter, entreating never to be removed from Boston 123 
 
 His Esteem and Affection for the Jesuits . . 124 
 
 Regard for the Priests of St. Sulpicius . . . 125 
 
 Educates Priests to aid him in his Ministry . . 126 
 Their Affection for him . . . . .127 
 
 Establishes a Convent of Ursulines . . . 128 
 
 His kind Treatment of the exiled Trappists . . . 129 
 
 Death of the Abbe Matignon .... 130 
 
 Funeral Honors. General Regret. Grief of the Bishop . 131 
 
 Increased Arduousness of his Duties. His Health impaired 132 
 
 Meditates a Return to France .... 133 
 
 Recalled to France and appointed Bishop of Montauban . 134 
 
 Conflict of Feelings on receiving this Appointment . 135 
 
CONTENTS. XIX 
 
 Refuses the See of Montauban and decides to remain in Boston 136 
 
 Petition of the Protestants of Boston to Louis XVIIl. 137 
 
 The King insists, and the Bishop yields . . . 139 
 
 Disposes of all his Property before leaving Boston . 140 
 
 Universal Lamentation on his Departure . . , 141 
 
 Address of the Catholics of Boston . . . 142 
 
 Reply of the Bishop. His Farewell Discourse . . 144 
 
 Departure from Boston ..... 145 
 
 Tribute to his Character by Dr. Channing . . . 146 
 
 He embarks at New York . . . . . 147 
 
 Gains the Confidence and Esteem of his Fellow-Passengers 147 
 
 His Shipwreck, miraculous Escape, and Arrival in France . 149 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Life of Cardinal Cheverus, from his Return to Franck, 
 IN 1823, TO THE Revolution of July, 1830. 
 
 Proceeds to Auderville, and thence to Cherbourg . . 151 
 
 Meets an ecclesiastical Conference at Cherbourg , 152 
 
 Reception by the Authorities of that City . . . 152 
 
 Preaches there in French .... 153 
 
 Proceeds to Paris. His Welcome at the Metropolis . 153 
 
 Pronounces several Discourses during his Stay . . 154 
 
 Learns the Death of his Sister .... 154 
 
 Goes to Mayenne. Honors paid him on his Arrival . 155 
 
 Funeral Oration on M. Souge . . . 156 
 
 The Eagerness to attend on his Preaching . . 156 
 
 His pious Labors at Mayenne .... 157 
 
 Letter from the Pope urging him to return to Boston . 159 
 
 His Reply. The Pope consents to his remaining in France 160 
 
 Preaches in Paris before some of the Nobility . . 161 
 
 His loyal Sentiments ..... 162 
 
 His Right to Promotion to a French See questioned . 163 
 
 His spirited Conduct on this Occasion. Receives his Bulls 163 
 
 Takes Measures for organizing his Seminary . . 163 
 
 His Arrival in his Diocese. Solemn Entry into Montauban 164 
 
XX. CONTENTS. 
 
 Ceremony at the Cathedral. His aflfectionate Address . 165 
 He organizes his Chapter . . . . .167 
 
 Measures for increasing the Solemnity of religious Service . 167 
 
 Method taken to instruct his Parishioners in the Catechism 168 
 
 Interchange of Visiis with the Archbishop of Toulouse . 169 
 
 Visitation of his Diocese ..... 170 
 
 General Affection of Catholics and Protestants towards him 171 
 
 Reconciliation of Differences, — a Mayor and his Curate . 171 
 His Benevolence on Occasion of an Inundation at Montauban 172 
 
 Charles X. expresses Approbation of his Conduct . . 174 
 
 His modest Reply to a Letter on this Subject . . 175 
 
 His zealous Labors during the Jubilee . . . 175 
 
 Penitence of an apostate Priest . . . . 176 
 
 Pious Care for the Soldiers of the Garrison . . . 177 
 
 Is appointed Archbishop of Bordeaux . . . 179 
 Remonstrances of the Montaubanese and of the Bishop himself 179 
 
 Strong Attachment of his Grand Vicar . . . 181 
 
 Is named a Peer of France. His Aversion to this Dignity 182 
 
 Declines applying for the ancient Palace of the Archbishops 183 
 
 Receives his Bulls in Paris, and sets off for Bordeaux . 184 
 
 Passes through Mans where he receives the Pallium . 185 
 
 Preaches an extempore Discourse in the Cathedral of Mans 185 
 
 Reception at Bordeaux. Reply to the Address of the Clergy 186 
 
 Addresses to the Authorities of Bordeaux . . . 187 
 
 Rules of Conduct prescribed to himself . . . 188 
 
 Universal Kindness and Benevolence his first Rule . . 188 
 
 Respect for all the Acts of his Predecessor his second Rule 190 
 
 His Humility in View of the late Archbishop's Virtues 191 
 Pronounces a Eulogy on this Prelate . . .192 
 
 Deliberation as to all official Measures his third Rule . 193 
 
 Visits the several Parts of his Diocese . , . 193 
 
 Reconciles a Curate with his Parishioners . . 195 
 
 Establishes a Fund for the Relief of aged and infirm Priests 197 
 His own liberal Contribution to the Fund . . .198 
 
 Regulations in regard to it . . . . 199 
 
 Publishes a new Edition of the Ritual . , . 200 
 
 His Interest in his Seminaries . . . 201 
 
CONTENTS. XXI 
 
 Character of his Instructions to the Students . . 202 
 
 Cordial Union between the Superiors and himself , 202 
 
 Encourages the Schools of Christian Doctrine . . 203 
 
 His Lessons of Humility to the Pupils . . . 204 
 
 Religious Communities for the Education of young Girls . 205 
 
 Society for the Distribution of good Books at Bordeaux . 205 
 
 His zealous Efforts in Aid of it . . . . 206 
 
 House of Refuge and Mercy ; an especial Object of his Care 207 
 
 Some Account of the Superior of this Establishment . 208 
 
 His tender Interest in the Hospitals . . . 209 
 
 His Respect for the Sisters of Charity . . . 210 
 
 Attendance on the Chamber of Peers in Paris . . 211 
 
 Attention while there to the Concerns of his Diocese . 211 
 
 Seventeen Discourses at Conflans . . . 212 
 
 Preaches at the Polytechnic School ... 212 
 
 Preaches at the Irish Seminary in English . . 213 
 
 Charity Sermon before the Dauphiness . . . 214 
 
 Complimented by the King on his Success . . 214 
 
 Frequent Interviews with Charles X. Conversation on Liberty 215 
 
 The King thinks of him for the Cardinalship . . 216 
 
 Universal Consideration enjoyed by the Archbishop at Paris 216 
 
 Appointed President of the Electoral College of Mayenne . 217 
 
 Propriety of his Conduct in this Office . . . 217 
 
 Popular Clamor against the Jesuits . . . 218 
 
 Ordinances against the Jesuits and the lower Seminaries . 219 
 
 The Bishops protest. M. Cheverus declines joining with them 219 
 
 His Motives misconstrued. His Meekness under Reproach 220 
 
 The Jesuits more just towards him. His high Regard for them 222 
 
 Sends Missionaries into various Parts of his Diocese . 223 
 
 Braves the Severity of Winter to visit his Country Parishes 224 
 
 His Visits of Charity at Bordeaux .... 225 
 
 His Advice sought at his Palace .... 227 
 
 Ladies of the Mission ..... 228 
 
 His disinterested Conduct in relation to his Nephew . 229 
 
 Agreeable Visit from the Abbe Maccarthy . . . 229 
 
 Declines the Office of Minister of Ecclesiastical Affairs 230 
 
Xxii CONTENTS. 
 
 Is made Counsellor of State, and a Commander of the Order 
 
 of the Holy Ghost 230 
 
 Letter of M. de Peyronnet announcing this Honor . 231 
 
 Political Forebodings of the Archbishop . . . 231 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 Life of Cardixal Cheverus, from the Revolution of 
 July, 1830, to his last Illness. 
 
 The Archbishop maintains Peace in his Diocese . . 233 
 
 Deference to his Opinions by the Authorities of Bordeaux 233 
 
 His Influence in Paris and at Court . . . 234 
 
 The Clergy exempted from the Oath of Fidelity by his Means 235 
 
 Declares his Determination to accept no Office in the State 236 
 
 His Independence, and Freedom from ambitious Views . 237 
 
 Universal Charity his only political Creed . . . 238 
 
 His Principles of Conduct under different Governments 239 
 
 His Prudence on the Subject of Politics . . . 239 
 
 Advice to his Priests on this Subject . . . 240 
 
 Diminution of his Income after the Revolution of July . 241 
 
 Lessens his Expenses, so that he may continue his Charities 241 
 
 His undiminished Hospitality .... 242 
 
 Regard for those deprived of Rank by the Revolution of July 242 
 
 Friendly Dispositions of the new Government towards him 243 
 Concerts Measures for the Promotion of Religion in the 
 
 Royal College of Bordeaux .... 243 
 
 Success of these Measures ..... 245 
 
 Teaches the Catechism at the Normal School . . 246 
 
 Offers his Palace for a Hospital during the Cholera . 246 
 
 Refutes the Reports which attributed this Malady to Poison 248 
 
 Suppresses a Sedition at the Poor-house . . 249 
 
 Also an Insurrection at the Fortress of Hal . . 249 
 
 His Grand Vicar, the Abbe de Trelissac, appointed Bishop of 
 
 Montauban ...... 250 
 
 Consecrates him Bishop, together with two others . . 253 
 
CONTENTS. XXIU 
 
 Anecdote of the Bishop of Perigueux . . . 253 
 
 Visits the Diocese of Montauban to install the new Bishop . 254 
 Enthusiastic Reception at Montauban . . . 255 
 
 His Emotion and touching Discourse on this Occasion . 256 
 
 Further Expressions of Affection and Admiration for him 257 
 
 Deathof his Grand Vicar, M. Carle . . .257 
 
 Attack of Apoplexy. Alarm of his Friends. His own View of it 258 
 Appoints his Nephew Grand Vicar .... 259 
 Second Attack of Apoplexy. His Energies unimpaired 259 
 
 Affecting Account of two Baptisms .... 260 
 His Interest in the Establishment for the young Savoyards 262 
 Asylums for the poor Children of Bordeaux . . 264 
 
 Ceremony of presenting the symbolical Keys of these Asylums 265 
 Society of Rich Children the Supporters of Poor CJiildren 266 
 
 The Sisters of the Presentation . . . .267 
 
 Invited to Bordeaux to prepare Teachers for the Asylums 267 
 
 Schools for the Children after leaving the Asylums . 268 
 
 Institutions for poor Orphans .... 268 
 
 Christian Workshops for tlie Youth of both Sexes . . 269 
 
 Indignation of the People at an Insult to the Archbishop 270 
 
 Respect in which he is held by the Jews. The Grand Rabbi 271 
 The Government again think of making him Cardinal . 272 
 
 His Efforts to prevent it . . . . . 272 
 
 Letter from Louis Philippe to the Pope on this Subject . 273 
 Favorable Sentiments of the Pope. He accedes to the Request 274 
 Letter of Thanks from the King to the Pope . . 275 
 
 Gratulatory Letter of the Archbishop of Paris to M. Cheverus 276 
 His modest Reply •••... 276 
 
 Is proclaimed Cardinal. Congratulations. His Distress 277 
 
 Apostolical Letters of Admission to the Sacred College . 278 
 The Cardinal's Reply to these Letters . . . 280 
 
 Ceremony of the Reception of the Cardinal's Hat . . 280 
 
 Solicits of Louis Philippe the Release of M. de Peyronnet 281 
 Attentions of the Archbishop of Paris . . . 281 
 
 Sadness of the Cardinal under his new Dignity . . 282 
 
 Returns to Bordeaux. Magnificent Reception . . 283 
 
 Seventy-eight Fishermen of his Diocese perish in a Storm 284 
 
XXIV CONTENTS. 
 
 The Cardinal's benevolent Efforts in Behalfof their Families 284 
 
 Generosity of the Royal Family and others . . 286 
 
 The Cardinal publishes a Diocesan Code . . , 286 
 
 Assists two illustrious Spanish Exiles . . . 288 
 
 Visits the Canton of Saint-Foy in a Season of extreme Heat 289 
 
 His excessive Labors and Fatigues . . . 290 
 
 Unintermitted Labors on his Return to Bordeaux . . 290 
 
 Sinks under these accumulated Duties . . . 291 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 Chakacter and Death of Cardinal Cheverus. 
 
 Introductory Remarks ..... 292 
 
 Habits of Regularity and Method in the Use of Time . 293 
 Early Rising. Morning Devotions. Study of the Scrip- 
 lures. Official Business ..... 294 
 
 Dinner. Hospitality. Frugal Table. His Ease, Grace, 
 
 and agreeable Conversation as Host . . . 295 
 
 Afternoon Employments. Supper. Evening Devotions 296 
 
 Accessibleness for Business at all Hours . . . 297 
 
 Regular Attendance on all religious Services . . 297 
 Habits of Punctuality . . . . . .297 
 
 Aversion to Parties and frivolous Amusements . . 298 
 
 Never walked merely for Pleasure .... 298 
 
 Declined Invitations to Repasts abroad . . . 299 
 
 Rigid Economy of Time ..... 299 
 
 Change of Employment his sole Relaxation . . 300 
 
 His Attainments in Learning. Knowledge of Languages . 301 
 
 Acquaintance with History; with Controversial Theology 302 
 
 Familiarity with the Scriptures .... 303 
 
 Fondness for St. Chrysostom .... 303 
 
 His Knowledge of Classical, French, and English Literature 304 
 
 Estimate of modern Authors. Aversion to publishing 305 
 
 Character of his Mind. Comprehensiveness, Penetration . 306 
 
 His Wit, Readiness, Grace, and Courteousness of Address 306 
 
 Fairness, Self-Distrust, and Cautiousness of his Judgment 307 
 
CONTENTS. XXV 
 
 Qualities of his Heart. Grateful Recollection of Benefits 307 
 
 His Sensibility. His Friendships ... 308 
 
 His Ingenuousness, Sincerity, and Simplicity . . 309 
 
 His Humility and Modesty .... 311 
 
 His Patience under Injuries. Advice to some who insulted him 313 
 
 His Indifference to unfavorable Judgments . . 314 
 
 Freedom from Ambition. Aversion to Honors and Dignities 314 
 
 His simple Tastes. Plain and unostentatious Manner of Life 316 
 
 Aversion to Attendance, Ceremony, Pomp, and Distinction 317 
 
 Dignified in his Simplicity .... 318 
 
 His just Estimate of Wealth. Disinterestedness . . 320 
 
 His Liberality. Cheerful Submission to pecuniary Losses 321 
 
 His Habits of Mortification and Self-Denial . . . 322 
 
 His Spirit of Condescension, Compliance, and Submission 324 
 
 Charity towards Sinners, and those whom he deemed in Error 326 
 
 Strictness as to Doctrines and Morals. Views of Tolerance 327 
 
 His gentle, equable, and pacific Temper . . . 328 
 
 His Gentleness the Secret of his Influence . . . 329 
 
 His Mildness united with Firmness and Decision . 330 
 
 His Humanity to Animals ..... 330 
 
 His Abhorrence of Detraction .... 331 
 
 Reluctance to think ill of any. Tenderness for others' Feelings 332 
 
 His Attention to the Ease and Happiness of his Guests . 333 
 
 Charms of familiar Intercourse with him . . . 333 
 
 Kind and considerate to his Servants . . . 334 
 
 His universal Hospitality ..... 335 
 
 His Compassion and Sympathy for the Afflicted . . 336 
 
 This the Origin of his closest Intimacies . . 337 
 
 Self- Reproach for any Troubles in his Diocese. Anecdote 337 
 
 His Distress in preaching on Future Punishment . 338 
 
 His remarkable Kindness to the Sick . . . 338 
 
 His respectful and delicate Attentions to the Aged . 339 
 
 His Kindness and Charity to the Poor . . . 340 
 
 Severe Economy and personal Sacrifices for this Object 341 
 
 Stated Charities. Discrimination in bestowing Alms . 341 
 
 Contributes to every public and private philanthropic Design 342 
 
 His humble Estimate of his own Deeds of Benevolence . 342 
 C 
 
Xxvi CONTENTS. 
 
 Often made the Almoner of the Rich . . . 342 
 
 His unwearied Zeal for the Salvation of Souls . . 843 
 
 345 
 346 
 346 
 346 
 347 
 347 
 347 
 348 
 349 
 350 
 
 High Motives which influenced him in his Nominations 
 
 Constancy of his Preaching 
 
 Careful Preparation of his Sermons 
 
 His Feelings of Solicitude in the Pulpit . 
 
 His distinguished Gifts as a Preacher 
 
 Unambitious Character of his Sermons 
 
 His Discourses formed onUhe Model of the Fathers . 
 
 Perspicuity his first Aim. Anecdote 
 
 His Condemnation of the Romantic Style 
 
 Appropriateness of his Discourses. Examples 
 
 Felicitous Introduction of Scripture Incidents. Examples 353 
 
 Illustrations from the Teachings and Example of Jesus Christ 355 
 
 His Appeals to the Affections .... 357 
 
 Appeals in Behalf of the Poor and the Sick . . 359 
 
 The Cardinal's Desire for a sudden Death . . . 361 
 
 Sudden Attack of Apoplexy and Paralysis . . 362 
 
 Extreme Unction. Prayers in all the Churches . . 362 
 
 An Altar erected in his Chamber . . . . 363 
 
 Deep and general Anxiety ..... 363 
 
 Mass celebrated in his Chamber. His Death . . 364 
 
 Universal Sorrow and Lamentation .... 364 
 
 The Body laid in State. The Throng of People to see it 365 
 
 Their Expressions of Love and Grief . , . 365 
 
 The Cardinal's Preference of an unostentatious Burial 366 
 
 Solemnity and Pomp of the funeral Rites . . 367 
 
 Design of erecting a splendid Monument in the Cathedral 368 
 
 Extract from Chateaubriand's " Genius of Christianity " . 369 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Offer of Relief from the English Government . . 371 
 
 M. Cheverus's Journeys on Foot .... 371 
 
 Attempt of a Protestant Clergyman to convert him . . 371 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XXVll 
 
 Services of the Catholics of Boston in the last War 
 
 Confidence of Protestant Ladies in M. Cheverus 
 
 His Donations to the Boston Athenaeum 
 
 His Journeys on Foot among the Indians 
 
 His high Opinion of the Character of the Indians 
 
 He relates numerous Instances of their Aifection for him 
 
 The Yellow Fever in Boston 
 
 Honor paid M. Cheverus in Boston 
 
 First Catholic Church ia Boston . 
 
 Letter from Bishop Carroll to M. Cheverus . 
 
 Case of the two Irishmen convicted of Murder 
 
 Anecdote of sawing Wood for a poor Woman 
 
 Invitations to preach in Protestant Churches 
 
 Letter of M. Cheverus in Defence of his Faith 
 
 Kissing of the Cross by Protestants 
 
 Case of the Infidel Minister . 
 
 Conferences with Protestant Ministers 
 
 Conversions among the Protestants 
 
 Conversion of two Protestant Ministers 
 
 Funeral of M. Matignon 
 
 The Generous Grocer 
 
 Subscription in Boston for M. Cheverus 
 
 Mode of his Departure from Boston 
 
 372 
 373 
 373 
 373 
 373 
 373 
 374 
 374 
 375 
 375 
 379 
 379 
 380 
 380 
 386 
 386 
 387 
 387 
 387 
 387 
 388 
 388 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 194, line 17, for their regularities, read the irregularities 
 « 220, " 18, «« to a love, *« by a love 
 

 LIFE ^m,h^::^-^i 
 
 CARDINAL CHEVERUS 
 
 BOOK FIRST, 
 
 from the birth of the cardinal, in 1768, to his depart- 
 ure from france, in 1792. 
 
 Jean Louis Anne Magdeleine Lefebvre de 
 Cheverus was born at Mayenne, the capital of the 
 ancient province of the Lower Maine (in France), 
 on the 28th of January, 1768 ; of a family, in- 
 vested, for several generations, with the magistracy 
 of the city, and honored with general esteem and 
 confidence. At the period of his birth, the imme- 
 diate family of the Cardinal consisted of three broth- 
 ers, who held at once all the principal offices in 
 the city of Mayenne. The eldest, Louis Rene de 
 Cheverus, held the ecclesiastical power, as rector of 
 the principal parish ; the second, M. de Champorain, 
 was invested with the civil power, as mayor ; and 
 the third, Jean Vincent Marie Lefebvre de Cheverus, 
 the father of the Cardinal, possessed the judicial pow- 
 1 
 
LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERU3. 
 
 er, under the title of General Civil Judge and Lieu- 
 tenant of Police of the city and duchy of Mayenne. 
 The mother of the Cardinal, Anne Lemarchand 
 des Noyers, was one of those rare women who per- 
 fectly understand the discipline proper for childhood. 
 While she deemed it unnecessary to follow any formal 
 system, the best, in her judgment, was the most sim- 
 ple and Christian. Making it her care to inculcate 
 upon her children, by example, even more than by 
 precept, the fear of God, the habit of prayer, love 
 of their neighbour, charity to the poor, compassion 
 for the afflicted, and a love for whatever is good, 
 honest, and virtuous, she succeeded in securing alike 
 their obedience and affection. She never had re- 
 course to those severe reprimands, which sour the 
 disposition instead of improving it, and still less to 
 corporal punishment, which may enforce an outward 
 obedience, indeed, but produces no change in the 
 heart. One method practised by her was well wor- 
 thy of a Christian mother. She early taught her 
 children to regard as the greatest of punishments an 
 exclusion from family prayers; which, according to 
 patriarchal custom, it was the practice to offer up 
 every evening. If a child had committed a fault, it 
 was sent away to pray by itself, as being unwor- 
 thy to unite with the family ; and the fear of this 
 punishment kept them all in the path of duty. 
 M. Cheverus, the father, united his endeavours to 
 those of his excellent wife ; and, like her, contributed 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY EDUCATIOX. 3 
 
 both by precept and example to the right education 
 of his children. 
 
 The care thus bestowed was not lost. To 
 say nothing of the great and eminent virtues which 
 were its fruit, *" the gratitude and affection of the 
 children were a sweet recompense to the parents, 
 even in this w^orld. The recollection of so good 
 a mother, especially, was cherished in the hearts 
 of her worthy children, dear as that of virtue it- 
 self. Even to the latest period of his life, the Car- 
 dinal never spoke of her but with veneration and 
 tenderness ; and whenever, from the pulpit, he en- 
 larged upon the duties of mothers towards their chil- 
 dren, he always loved to cite the example and conduct 
 of his own mother. On one occasion, when deliver- 
 ing a panegyric on the character of Saint Louis, after 
 describing the very perfect education given to the 
 sainted king by his mother. Queen Blanche, and 
 quoting the truly Christian words which she often 
 addressed to him, — "Mi/ son, God is my witness how 
 much I love you; yet I would rather see you dead 
 than guilty of a single mortal sin" — he blessed Heav- 
 en for having given him a mother of like spirit. His 
 fihal heart still swelled with tenderness and gratitude ; 
 
 * Two sisters of the Cardinal, Madame George and Madame 
 Le Jarrie], Avho died before him, have left a memory which 
 will long be held precious by mankind, and in the sight of 
 God will stand forever honored by the eminent sanctity of 
 their lives. 
 
LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and people involuntarily exclaimed, " Happy mother, 
 whose name is so beautifully hallowed by such a 
 son ! " But one might also well say, " Happy son, 
 whose first steps in life were guided by such a mother !" 
 Receiving instruction with docility, young Cheve- 
 rus exhibited, from earliest childhood, that gentleness 
 of manner and amenity of disposition, which after- 
 wards distinguished him. He already evinced that 
 absence of all frivolity, that love of study, that 
 devotion to duty, that sagacity, and those excellent 
 qualities, which seemed to predict the elevation he 
 was afterwards to attain in the church. His virtuous 
 mother, -^ who was well aware that the innocence of 
 childhood is like a tender flower, which, too soon trans- 
 planted to a foreign soil, fades and dies, — wished to 
 keep him under her own eye during the period 
 of his early studies; and it was therefore decided, 
 that he should remain under the paternal roof, and 
 go daily to the college in the city, to acquire the 
 rudiments of science. The young student devoted 
 himself assiduously to his tasks ; and his application, 
 united to the natural quickness of his understanding, 
 secured to him, from the first, the most brilliant suc- 
 cess. Superior to all his companions, he encounter- 
 ed but one rival, young Chapedelaine, who often 
 disputed the first place with him, and was still oftener 
 vanquished ; not because he was inferior in natural 
 talent, but from the want of application. This supe- 
 riority did not make him proud ; modest and unas* 
 
HIS FIRST COMMUNION. 5 
 
 suming, he was the friend of all^ a pleasant compan- 
 ion, amusing himself indiscriminately with all, in the 
 sports of their choice. To see him running and frol- 
 icking in play hours, he might have been taken for 
 the merriest of them all ; as, when engaged in study, 
 he would have been selected as the most diligent. 
 Because, in truth, he knew how to do all things well; 
 to play heartily in the season of relaxation, and to 
 study hard when it was requisite. 
 
 At the age of eleven years^ he was thought suita- 
 bly prepared to be admitted to his first communion. 
 His pious parents had long been fitting him for 
 this important occasion. They had taught him to 
 look forward to it as the highest happiness, the end 
 of all his efforts, the most powerful motive to do 
 every thing well ; and the pious young man entered 
 with his whole soul into the views proposed to him. 
 Thus the reception of the sacrament made the deep- 
 est impression upon his tender and susceptible heart. 
 Touched with the love of his God, he renounced all 
 worldly hopes, and desired only to lead a iife of char- 
 ity and prayer, his strongest inclination being to enter 
 the ecclesiastical profession. He made known his 
 wishes on this subject to his mother, from whom he 
 concealed nothing. And this second Hannah, happy 
 that she could consecrate to God another Samuel, 
 made it her only care to cherish such holy aspira- 
 tions. 
 
 The following year, he received the tonsure at 
 1* 
 
6 LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 Mayenne, in the church of Calvary, from the hands 
 of JNIonseigneur Herce, Bishop of Dol, at the same 
 time with the friend of his childhood, and rival of 
 his studies, young Chapedelaine, vsrho bid fair to be- 
 come, one day, the honor and pride of the priesthood ; 
 but just as he had completed his ecclesiastical stud- 
 ies at the College of St. Sulpice, in Paris, the church 
 wd.s deprived of his services by death. 
 
 The young priest did honor to the robes with 
 which he had just been invested. Those advanced 
 in years still recollect his constant attendance, ar- 
 rayed in his surplice, on the services of the church ; 
 his devout demeanor, while thus engaged ; and the 
 grace and exactness with which he performed all 
 the ceremonies intrusted to his care. His piety, 
 instead of interfering with his studies, crowned them 
 with speedier success, by enkindling in his soul a 
 more ardent love of duty, and rendering his mind 
 more intent to understand and to learn. About this 
 time, Monseigneur de Gonsans, Bishop of Mans, 
 came to Mayenne ; and M. Cheverus, the father, 
 introduced to him the young Abbe, recently admitted 
 to clerical orders. The Bishop examined him with 
 attention and interest, and was so charmed with his 
 piety, his amiable disposition, his ingenuousness, and 
 love of science, that he offered his father a fellow- 
 ship in the College of Louis-le-Grand, in Paris, of 
 which the diocese of Mans possessed the sole dis- 
 posal. M. Cheverus, wishing his son to engage 
 
APPOINTED PRIOR OF TORBECHET. 7 
 
 in a higher course of study than was pursued in the 
 College of Mayenne, and better suited to his distin- 
 guished talents, accepted this offer, with gratitude, 
 and promised to send him to Paris at the com- 
 mencement of the approaching term. 
 
 Soon after this, the celebrated advocate Gerbier, a 
 member of the council of Monsieur , afterwards Louis 
 the Eighteenth, visited Mayenne. He became ex- 
 tremely interested in the young Abbe Cheverus ; and, 
 anxious to perform some act of kindness to a family 
 so honorable, and so worthy of the favor of their 
 princes, he promised M. Cheverus to solicit for his 
 son one of the benefices which were in the gift of 
 Monsieur, He fulfilled his promise ; and the young 
 Abbe Cheverus was appointed by Monsieur, prior 
 of Torbechet, with the title of his Chaplain Extra- 
 ordinary. This priory, situated some leagues from 
 Mayenne, yielded but a trifling emolument, affording, 
 at most, an income of eight hundred livres. It be- 
 came, however, the subject of a lawsuit, which was 
 contested for many years. The Abbe Cheverus, 
 then, as ever, the friend of peace, and entirely op- 
 posed to the spirit of strife, suffered long from this 
 dispute, and was desirous of terminating it amicably ; 
 but his lawyer, fully confident of success, warmly op- 
 posed any compromise, and enjoyed in anticipation 
 the honor of victory. The young Prior, weary of 
 delay, deprived him of this pleasure, and terminated 
 the controversy at once, by voluntarily surrendering 
 
8 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 his rights, at the very moment when the affair seem- 
 ed about to be brought to a close. Being asked 
 afterwards, why he had not suffered the suit to go 
 on, since he was sure of gaining his cause, he made 
 this noble reply, in accordance with the goodness of 
 his heart ; " Because, in gaining the cause, I should 
 have ruined my adversary." This answer was far 
 from satisfying his lawyer, who was very angry when 
 he heard how the affair was settled, and took such 
 offence, that, after the lapse of forty years, he could 
 hardly overlook it. The Cardinal amused himself 
 with repeating the renewed reproaches he received 
 from his old advocate, on his return to France. 
 
 The emoluments of the Priory ofTorbechet, al- 
 though small, were sufficient for the moderate desires 
 of the Abbe Cheverus, and supported him during the 
 whole time he was pursuing his studies. He perform- 
 ed no less faithfully, on this account, the duties of his 
 office, which consisted in repeating daily the pray- 
 ers to the Holy Virgin. This exercise, in fact, re- 
 freshed his piety, and he regarded it as a preparation 
 for officiating at public prayers, a ministration to which 
 he would at a future period be called. 
 
 In August, 1781, he finished his studies at the 
 College of Mayenne, and gained, as usual, several 
 prizes. After some weeks of repose and relaxa- 
 tion, M. Ci.overus concluded to take him to Paris, 
 that he might pursue his studies at the College of 
 Louis-le-Grand, which presented a wider field for 
 
ENTERS THE COLLEGE OP LOUIS-LE-GRAND. 9 
 
 the exercise of his talents. On his way he visited 
 Mans, where he presented him again to the Bishop, 
 who received him with renewed satisfaction, and, on 
 becoming better acquainted with him, felt a more 
 lively interest in him, and entertained more exalt- 
 ed hopes for the church. He confirmed the prom- 
 ise of a fellowship, which he had given him some 
 lime before, and condescended to say that he would 
 visit him at the college, whenever business should 
 call him to Paris. M. Cheverus took leave, much 
 pleased with the flattering and gracious reception 
 his son had met with, and set out for Paris. The 
 first thing he did, after his arrival in that city, was 
 to go and offer his thanks to the advocate Ger- 
 bier, who had obtained for the Abbe Cheverus the 
 Priory of Torbechet. Gerbier wished to present the 
 Abbe to Monsieur, as his Chaplain Extraordinary, a 
 title- appended to the Priory. The Prince was very 
 much diverted at the idea of the office of chaplain 
 being held by a child of thirteen, who was so small 
 that he did not look more than ten ; but the animat- 
 ed and intelligent countenance of this child, his can- 
 dor, and amiable manners, charmed him ; and he dis- 
 missed him with manifestations of the most tender 
 interest. 
 
 From his first entrance into the College of Louis- 
 le-Grand, the Abbe Cheverus was put to the most 
 severe test to which a young man can be subjected, 
 on leaving for the first time the paternal roof. This 
 
10 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 college, once the school of so many virtues, as well 
 as the theatre of so much talent, was no longer what 
 it had been. The directors of the establishment, 
 imbued with all those new notions which were in a 
 few years to bring upon France such an accumula- 
 tion of crime, misfortune, and ruin, wished that the 
 young should participate in that unrestrained liberty 
 of thought, speech, and action, which was every- 
 where cried up. Consequently, the injunctions to 
 silence were removed, and numerous religious exer- 
 cises were dispensed with, as useless in educating 
 men of the world ; serviceable, at best, only for train- 
 ing up monks. These innovations soon brought forth 
 their natural fruits, and the reformers had an oppor- 
 tunity to witness the results of their labors. Having 
 full liberty of talking, the students soon became un- 
 steady and idle. From idleness, they proceeded to 
 offences of a graver character ; and, religious exercises 
 no longer recurring at stated intervals through the 
 day, to recall the erring heart to duty, the college 
 ceased to be that well-ordered institution, which had 
 given so many good citizens to the state, and so many 
 good Christians to the church. 
 
 In a position so critical, the young Abbe Chev- 
 erus was enabled to withstand the temptation of evil 
 example, and to show himself, what he always had 
 been, and what he always continued to be, pious, 
 modest, correct, diligent in his studies, and attentive 
 to all his duties. He received the sjcrament every 
 
HIS CHOICE OF FRIENDS. 1 1 
 
 eight days, performed his devotions reverently, and 
 attended to his religious exercises with a constancy, 
 modest yet fearless, self-possessed and unaffected, 
 which strikingly contrasted with the frivolity and inat- 
 tention of the others. Yet this conduct was accom- 
 panied with so much kindness and amenity towards 
 his fellows, with so much talent and success, that 
 all were constrained to esteem, to love, and to ven- 
 erate him. Amiable and indulgent towards others, 
 as he was severe towards himself, he captivated all 
 hearts, and all were anxious to be numbered among 
 his friends. His innocent simplicity and candor were 
 peculiarly striking ; and such was the purity of his 
 morals, that he had no suspicion of evil ; nor could 
 he conceive the cause of that strict vigilance, which 
 was exercised in the dormitories during the night. 
 
 This excellent young man was sensible, however, 
 that, in the novel situation in which he was placed, 
 he stood in need of a trusty and an enlightened guide ; 
 one in whom he could repose confidence, to whom 
 he could open freely his whole heart, and from whom 
 he might receive instructions that would make up 
 for his want of experience, advice to sustain his 
 weakness, and who would supply incentives to renew- 
 ed zeal. With this view, he selected the Abbe 
 Auge, now Principal of the College of Stanislas, in 
 Paris. In the instructions and example, in the ten- 
 der and affectionate piety of this new Ananias, he 
 found all that he could desire ; kindness to which 
 
12 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 he was ever welcome, wise counsels, and the nicest 
 judgment in directing and forming the character of 
 youth. Besides the aid to be derived from a judi- 
 cious adviser, he wanted the assistance of a virtuous 
 friend, to uphold him by advice and example, in the 
 slippery path he was called to tread. His choice 
 fell upon a young student, already admired and loved 
 by every one, the Abbe Legris-Duval, whose name 
 recalls all that is amiable and pious ; and who, after- 
 wards, for many years, in the heart of the capi- 
 tal, was the soul of every good work. The Abbe 
 Cheverus, therefore, sought him out ; and, from their 
 first interview, these two souls understood, esteemed, 
 and loved each other. Hearts so similar became 
 united to each other in the tenderest friendship.* But 
 it was a friendship in which there was nothing exclu- 
 sive, because it was founded upon virtue, or rather, 
 was the growth of virtue itself. 
 
 In their mutual friendship for mutual improvement, 
 they were careful to make themselves agreeable to 
 all their fellow students ; and, as if they had under- 
 
 * In 1824, Monseigneur Cheveras, preaching in Paris, on 
 the subject of French Missions, which the Abb^ Legris- 
 Duval had aided in establishing, still delighted to recall his 
 former intimacy with so excellent a friend. "He honored 
 me," he says in his discourse, " with his friendship ; and, in 
 his youth, condescended to make me the companion of his 
 pious and zealous labors. Blessed friend! may I be your 
 echo, at this time, and all hearts shall be touched, and your 
 work perpetuated!" 
 
HIS CHOICE OP FRIENDS. 13 
 
 taken to prove to them how amiable true virtue is, 
 and how studious to promote the happiness of every- 
 one within its influence, they joined in all their sports, 
 in their various modes of recreation, of which they 
 often constituted the life and charm.* Thus there 
 was not an individual in college, but made warm pro- 
 fessions of friendship j a friendship so cordial and true, 
 that every opportunity was eagerly seized upon to 
 prove to them its sincerity, even after the lapse of 
 many years. When, in 1793, at the height of the 
 revolutionary tempest, the Abbe Legris-Duval pre- 
 sented himself before the sanguinary judges of every 
 thing good and virtuous, to ask permission to offer 
 his ministrations and pious consolation to Louis the 
 Sixteenth, then condemned to death, he was per- 
 mitted to withdraw free and unmolested, under cir- 
 cumstances which would have cost any other person 
 his life ; because these judges, formerly students of 
 Louis-le-Grand, could not banish from their breasts the 
 
 * Cardinal Cheverus delighted to relate, even in the last 
 years of his life, how he, with his excellent friend, had con- 
 tributed to the college amusements. He said, among other 
 things, that, one year, on Ash- Wednesday, the Abbe Legris 
 pronounced a funeral oration on the departed Carnival, and 
 took for his text this passage from the Odes of Horace : 
 ^'■Mullis ille bonis Jlebilis occidit" (1.25.); "He is dead, la- 
 mented by many good men." Whereupon a wag, turning to 
 one of his comrades, remarkable for his enormous appetite, 
 repeated the next verse, ^^ JVulli Jlebilior gutlm tibi;^^ "By 
 none more than thee." 
 2 
 
14 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 veneration and affection which the virtues of the Abbe 
 had inspired. And when, in 1823, Monseigneur 
 Cheverus returned to France, he was welcomed with 
 rapture by all his old college companions, who lav- 
 ished upon him every attention, so delightful was the 
 impression he had left on their minds. 
 
 But if the amiable character of the Abbe Chev* 
 erus made Virtue lovely, she derived honor also 
 from ' his talents, of which every recitation, so to 
 speak, gave new proofs. Possessed of an astonishing 
 memory, he always made himself perfectly acquainted 
 with the lessons assigned him, remembered the expla- 
 nations and instructions of his teachers, and never forgot 
 what he had once learned. Gifted with equal quick- 
 ness of intellect, he could master the difficulties of 
 a subject, detect the true sense of an obscure pas- 
 sage, present the equivalent thought, and find the most 
 suitable word to express it. With an elegant and 
 refined taste, he could appreciate the beauties of lit- 
 erature, introduce them appropriately into his own 
 compositions, and store them up in his mind, less by 
 an effort of memory than by a ready intelligence, 
 which, receiving vivid impressions, retained them per- 
 manently. Such were the qualities which, seconded 
 by constant application, secured to him the highest 
 rank in every class, and gained him, at the end of 
 each year, the most honorable prizes. The Princi- 
 pal of the College esteemed himself happy in pos- 
 sessing such a pupil, said openly, that he was the best 
 member of the institution, and compared him only 
 
HIS TALENTS AND SUCCESS. 15 
 
 with the Abbe Legris-Duval, who was, perhaps, his 
 equal in talent, as well as in virtue. Such was the 
 character he delighted to give of him to all who 
 spoke to him of the Abbe Cheverus ; and especial- 
 ly to Monseigneur de Gonsans, Bishop of Mans, 
 when, true to his word, he came to visit him at the 
 college. The Bishop, charmed with this account, re- 
 ported it at Mans, and communicated to all about 
 him, many of whom are still living, his delight and 
 his hopes. " My little Abbe Cheverus," said he, 
 " will one day be the first subject of my diocese." 
 
 In this manner the Abbe Cheverus passed through 
 his course of study at the College of Louis-le-Grand, 
 with the same piety and literary success, except, that, 
 every year, his instructers were more and more pleas- 
 ed with him. When he entered on the study of 
 philosophy, he was as much distinguished as he had 
 been in belles-lettres ; and the soundness of his judg- 
 ment seemed to equal the elegance of his fancy. 
 When the professor was ill, or prevented by other 
 occupations from giving lessons, the Abbe Cheverus 
 supplied his place, and always acquitted himself hon- 
 orably of this duty. The scholar was but little infe- 
 rior to the master. 
 
 At that time there existed a custom, according to 
 which every licentiate in theology, who wished to 
 obtain the rank of Doctor, was obliged to present a 
 young man, whom he was reputed to have educated, 
 to hold a public disputation on a given subject; in 
 
16 LIFE OF CAEDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 order to prove, by the answers of the pupil, the 
 learning and merits of his teacher. Although this 
 custom, which certainly had a useful purpose in for- 
 mer times, rested then on a mere fiction, since it 
 was notorious that no doctor had educated the pu- 
 pil whom he presented ; the university, nevertheless, 
 adhered to the practice, and compelled all aspirants 
 to a doctorate to conform to it. M. Auge, who had 
 completed his course of studies as licentiate, and who 
 had only the degree of Doctor to take, proposed to 
 the Abbe Cheverus to maintain the customary thesis. 
 The obligations he felt himself under to M. Auge 
 did not permit him to hesitate for a moment. He 
 prepared himself, and, on the 2lst of July, 1786, 
 appeared in public, maintained his thesis, alleged his 
 proofs, and replied to the objections raised, with as- 
 tonishing facility of elocution, and a correctness of 
 reasoning that equalled the elegance of his language ; 
 so that this service, which was agreeable to his feel- 
 ings, was still more honorable to his talents. 
 
 But worldly glory did not satisfy him ; his thoughts 
 soared higher. Wholly occupied with the profession 
 he had chosen, and with the means of preparing 
 himself for it, he judged it better for him to enter a 
 seminary than to remain at college ; as the more strict 
 discipline, the more frequent and appropriate devotion- 
 al exercises, and the more serious and diligent mode 
 of life pursued at the seminary, would better prepare 
 him for the holy office to which he aspired. While 
 
ENTERS THE SEMINARY OF SAINT MAGLOIRE. 17 
 
 intent on these thoughts, he learned that an exami- 
 nation of candidates for vacant places at the Semi- 
 nary of Saint Magloire, in Paris, was about to take 
 place. He presented himself, and, without any opposi- 
 tion, obtained the first place. His entrance into this 
 estabhshment was a glorious event for him. It was like 
 entering a new " upper-room," where he was to pre- 
 pare himself for the reception of the spirit of the 
 priesthood ; and he consequently carried there a 
 stronger love of duty, and more ardent desires after 
 perfection. He was already well known, and his 
 reputation was established in this seminary, before he 
 came there ; but, on a nearer view of such excellence 
 ?ind simplicity united to so great merit, both masters 
 and scholars were agreeably surprised ; and were in- 
 spired w^ith an esteem, an affection, and, we may even 
 say, a tenderness for him, the true cause of which 
 he alone never suspected. As his modesty blinded 
 him to his own merits, he attributed all these affec- 
 tionate attentions to the goodness of the Fathers of 
 the Oratory, who had the direction of the establish- 
 ment, and to the benevolence of the candidates livino; 
 there. During the whole course of his life, he never 
 spoke of the inmates of Saint Magloire, but with ten- 
 derness and gratitude. He spoke of them in the 
 highest terms of praise, on every occasion ; and took 
 great pleasure in relating their kind acts towards him- 
 self, and in dwelling on the happiness he had enjoyed 
 among them. " Blessed years, passed at the Semi- 
 2* 
 
18 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 nary," said he, " the fairest of iny life ! Happy days, 
 when my duties were so easy, my life so serene, my 
 soul so tranquil, and everybody so kind and so in- 
 dulgent to me ! '' In this agreeable retreat he de- 
 voted himself wholly to ecclesiastical studies, to the 
 exclusion of all others. 
 
 There was, at this time, in the Seminary of Saint 
 Magloire, one of the sons of the distinguished Lord 
 Maccarlhy, who, persecuted for his religion in Ire- 
 land, had fled to France, and there collected, at a great 
 expense, one of the most curious libraries in the 
 world, the celebrated Abbe Maccarthy, who after- 
 wards became the first preacher of the age, and died, 
 some years since, a Jesuit. He admired the excellent 
 qualities of the Abbe Cheverus, to whom he was 
 united by the closest ties of intimacy. He often 
 urged the proposal to teach him the English lan- 
 guage, the beauty and value of which he highly ex- 
 tolled. But the scrupulous student always refused ; 
 alleging, that usefulness to the church, and not the 
 gratification of a vain curiosity, ought to be the only 
 end of his labors ; that this language would be of no 
 service to him in the clerical profession, and that his 
 time would be better employed in the study of the 
 sciences, which had a direct and immediate refer- 
 ence to his vocation. 
 
 He now devoted himself exclusively to ecclesiasti- 
 cal studies. He began, at this time, to feast his soul 
 with the study of the Sacred Scriptures ; these were 
 
HIS ECCLESIASTICAL STUDIES. 19 
 
 his delight, his most pleasant recreation. He often 
 bedewed with his tears the sacred pages, and was 
 never weary of admiring their sublime and touching 
 beauties. From the Bible, he passed to ecclesiastical 
 history, and delighted to trace in the simple and noble 
 pages of Fleury, the progress of religion, the errors of 
 heresy, the virtues of the saints, and the develope- 
 ment of discipline. He kept up the knowledge he 
 possessed of the Greek, by reading daily the Fathers 
 of the Church, who have written in that language ; 
 and he soon added to this a knowledge of the He- 
 brew, that he might be able to study the Bible at the 
 pure fountain-head of the original language. But his 
 principal occupation, that which engrossed him more 
 than all the pursuits which have been mentioned, was 
 the study of theology; because he understood its su- 
 preme importance, whether as furnishing a key to all 
 other ecclesiastical sciences, or as an aid in preach- 
 ing religion, in proving and defending it, or in guiding 
 the faithful, and resolving their doubts. 
 
 At that time, all the seminaries of Paris were 
 obliged to send their pupils to the Sorbonne, that 
 they might be present at the lectures there given ; but 
 it was well understood, that this was not the place to 
 learn theology, and that the private conferences, which 
 took place in each seminary, were amply sufficient for 
 those who wished to study it ; so that even the best 
 pupils did not hesitate to talk and make a noise during 
 the performance, regarding the exercise as a mere 
 
20 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 matter of form, or rather as an opportunity for amuse- 
 ment. The professor spoke, but no one listened ; he 
 read his lecture, but, amid the noise and confusion of 
 the crowd of students, assembled from so many different 
 institutions, it was impossible to understand what he 
 said. The Abbe Cheverus did not imitate the multi- 
 tude ; he endeavoured to learn all he could in this 
 tumultuous school, and to give some satisfaction to 
 the professors, who found so little in others. He 
 placed himself near the speakers, that he might hear 
 better, complied with all their wishes, and composed, 
 on the various subjects assigned him, interesting dis- 
 sertations, remarkable alike for powerful thought and 
 elegant language. 
 
 When he was invited to discourse, either at the 
 Sorbonne, or in the different seminaries of the cap- 
 ital, he always acquitted himself with a facility and 
 grace of elocution, that was universally admired, and 
 which is even now fresh in the recollection of his old 
 fellow students. In order to attain greater purity and 
 elegance of language, he made himself perfectly fa- 
 miliar with the treatise De Locis Theologicis, of Mel- 
 chior Canus, who, of all the theologians, wrote the 
 Latin language most perfectly ; adopted his style and 
 manner, or rather, may be said to have improved upon 
 it. For, moreover, such was his familiarity with all 
 the philosophical works of Cicero, that he interwove 
 in his discourses all the graces of the Roman orator ; 
 and, as occasion required, could borrow, now the most 
 
HE IS ADMITTED TO PRIEST'S ORDERS. 21 
 
 felicitous allusions, and now the turns of expression 
 most analogous to the genius of the Latin language. 
 He carried this branch of study to such an extent, 
 that he has often been heard, in after-life, to reproach 
 himself for having devoted to these niceties of lan- 
 guage so much time, which, he said, might have been 
 more usefully employed in the acquisition of other 
 kinds of knowledge. 
 
 In this manner M. Cheverus completed his course of 
 theological studies, giving pleasure and satisfaction to 
 his instructers. M. Emery, the Superior General of 
 Saint Sulpice, happening, about this time, to make 
 his acquaintance, quickly discerned and justly"^ ap- 
 preciated his rare merit, and made him the offer 
 of a place in his seminary, free of expense ; but his 
 gratitude to the Directors of Saint Magloire would 
 not allow him to take advantage of an offer so honor- 
 able to him; he was too much attached to his old 
 instructers to leave them. 
 
 He had commenced the second year of his licen- 
 ciate, and was ordained Deacon, in the month of 
 October, 1790, when Monseigneur de Gonsans, 
 Bishop of Mans, seeing the gathering storm, which 
 was about to burst upon the church, perhaps to dis- 
 perse the bishops, and render ordination impossible 
 or at least very difficult, and sensible besides how 
 useful a priest of M. Cheverus's merits would be, in 
 such critical times, procured from Rome, without his 
 knowledge, a dispensation as to age, and sent it to him, 
 
22 LFFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 with his earnest request, that he would receive priest's 
 orders at the next ordination. It required some cour- 
 age to accept this proposal, at so dangerous and 
 threatening a period. The property of the clergy 
 had been seized, the Civil Constitution decreed, and 
 an oath required of all priests in office, under penalty 
 of ejectment. Nothing was to be expected, then, 
 from taking priest's orders, but poverty, persecution, 
 and death. M. Cheverus did not hesitate ; and, 
 although he was not yet twenty-three years of age, 
 he was ordained priest, on the 18th of December, 
 1790, at the last public ordination that took place 
 in Paris before the Revolution. He immediately set 
 off for Mayenne, where he first celebrated mass on 
 Christmas eve, and also assisted at high mass the 
 next day. 
 
 M. Lefebvre Cheverus, his venerable uncle, curate 
 of Mayenne, then infirm and paralytic, wrote immedi- 
 ately to the Bishop of Mans a letter, in which he 
 earnestly requested him to allow his nephew, under 
 the title of curate, to become his colleague, and, as 
 it were, his right hand, in the administration of the 
 affairs of his parish. The Bishop was unwilling to 
 refuse the request of this venerable old man, who, 
 besides, by reason of his age and infirmities, was 
 really in need of so efficient an assistant. But, at 
 the same time, desirous of showing that he considered 
 the Abbe Cheverus, at the commencement of his pro- 
 fessional career, worthy of a more elevated station, he 
 
HIS ZEALOUS LABORS AT MAYENNE. 23 
 
 appointed him canon of his own cathedral, an office 
 which would not prevent him from rendering his uncle 
 those services which the good rector expected of 
 him ; since, the chapter having been dissolved by a 
 decree of the National Assembly, there were no longer 
 any duties to perform, nor was residence necessary. 
 
 The Abbe Cheverus, at once canon and vicar, im- 
 mediately entered on the duties of his ministry, at 
 Mayenne ; and, although so young, he displayed all 
 the zeal, prudence, and firmness of a veteran at the 
 altar. The rectitude of his mind made up for his 
 want of experience. He was always at his post, and 
 punctual in the performance of all his duties. He 
 catechized young children in so interesting a manner, 
 that he drew crowds of older people to hear ; he 
 instructed those of riper years with a clearness, a force, 
 and an unction, which carried conviction to every 
 mind, and persuasion to every heart ; and the aged still 
 remember with what zeal he confessed his numerous 
 penitents, visited the sick, relieved the poor, and 
 consoled the afflicted. 
 
 In the mean time, the political horizon became 
 daily more cloudy, and the tempest more threatening. 
 He was called upon to take the oath to the Con- 
 stitution, and refused to do so, with a noble firmness; 
 as did, also, his aged uncle and his clerical brethren. 
 Then came an order to leave the parsonage, and give 
 place to an illegally appointed curate, who had 
 taken the oath, and who was coming to take pos- 
 
24 LIFE OF CARDINAL CflEVERUS. 
 
 session of it. He obeyed in silence, and continued 
 to exercise his ministry ; never, for a moment, suffer- 
 ing himself to be perplexed or disconcerted, nor his 
 zeal to relax under such discouraging circumstances. 
 He catechized, preached, and confessed, as usual. He 
 even consecrated altar stones, that he might, in 
 case of necessity, celebrate mass in private houses; 
 in virtue of a special power, delegated to him by the 
 Bishop of Mans, who had been authorized to do so 
 by the Holy See. On the 15th of August, 1791, 
 the municipal authority again demanded that he should 
 take the oath ; and, upon his again refusing, he, as 
 well as his brethren, were prohibited, thenceforth, 
 from any ministrations in the church, except the cel- 
 ebration of the mass. The Abbe Cheverus was still 
 obedient, and continued, amidst so many storms, ob- 
 stacles, and alarms, to exercise his ministerial functions 
 in secret. A room in his father's house was con- 
 verted into a chapel ; and there he celebrated the holy 
 mysteries, and administered the sacrament. 
 
 Things went on in this manner, till the beginning 
 of January, 1792, when his respected uncle, whom 
 he venerated as a father, died. Monseigneur de 
 Gonsans, who was then a member of the States 
 General, no sooner heard of his death than he wrote, 
 without any hesitation, to M. the Abbe Decolle, 
 his secretary, and directed him, without delay, to 
 send to M. Cheverus the title-deed of his nomination 
 to the curacy of Mayenne ; and, at the same time, 
 
HE IS APPOIiNTED CURATE OF MAYENiNE. 25 
 
 he conferred on him the powers of Vicar-General. 
 M. Cheverus already possessed the influence of this 
 office, in consideration of his merits alone. Several 
 priests had consulted him in respect to the oath, 
 regarding him already as an oracle, notwithstand- 
 ing his youth ; and he made use of the confidence 
 reposed in him, to confirm some, to encourage others, 
 and to enlighten and direct all. Thus the news of his 
 promotion alarmed the revolutionists. They thought, 
 that, if M. Cheverus, by the ascendency of his worth 
 alone, exercised over his brethren and parishioners 
 an influence as powerful as it was fatal to their 
 views, he would, when once invested with the title of 
 curate, impede much more the revolutionary cause, 
 and the success of the constitutional church. They 
 therefore resolved to get rid of him ; and, as they 
 could neither employ open violence against him, with- 
 out arousing the indignation of the whole population, 
 who entertained for him the most respeci.ful attach- 
 ment, nor hope to cause liis departure by importunity 
 or annoyances, before which his zeal would never 
 give way, they resolved to try the efl:ect of threats 
 and secret persecution. Three days after he re- 
 ceived his credentials, one of tlieir body came to in- 
 form him, in a manner in itself apparently as respect- 
 ful and friendly as possible, that, in consequence of a 
 resolution of the Revolutionary Club, his father*s 
 house would be burnt, the following night, unless he 
 3 
 
26 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 departed that very day, and that this would only be 
 the prelude to still greater misfortunes. 
 
 M. Cheverus then concluded, that neither pru- 
 dence nor filial piety would permit him to remain any 
 longer ; and he left Mayenne the same evening, in 
 company with his friend, the Abbe Souge, who af- 
 terwards died curate of that city. Both slept at a 
 country-house, at the distance of three quarters of a 
 league ; and, the next day, proceeded to Laval, whither 
 all the priests of the department, who had not taken 
 the oath, were ordered to repair, that they might be 
 under the surveillance of the police. M. Cheverus 
 was allowed to live at the house of some relations he 
 had in that city, and was only required to appear every 
 day before the authorities, who, by strictly calling the 
 roll, assured themselves that no priest had fled. He 
 lived thus two months and a half, groaning under the 
 afflictions of the church, and occasionally seeing 
 Monseigneur de Herce, bishop of Dol, who, forced to 
 fly from his own diocese, had retired to Mayenne, his 
 native place, and been obliged, like all the rest, to 
 come and reside in the chief town of the department. 
 
 But, in the month of June of the same year, hav- 
 ing been shut up in the old convent of the Cordeliers 
 with Monseigneur the Bishop of Dol and all the 
 priests who were at Laval ; and thinking, that, in this 
 confinement, his life was in continual danger; that the 
 frantic rabble might, at any moment, pounce upon 
 their victims, and assassinate them all, his only thought 
 
SETS OUT FOR PARIS. 27 
 
 was, to secure the means of escape, and to quit a land, 
 which was destroying its own inhabitants. A slight 
 indisposition served him as a pretext for obtaining 
 permission to pass some days with his relatives ; and, 
 as soon as he found himself among them, he made 
 known his design of going, as soon as possible, to 
 England, there to remain, till the storm should pass 
 over, and happier days should come. The affliction 
 of his family, obliged to part with him who was 
 their pride and delight, can easily be imagined ; un- 
 certain what would befall him in a foreign country, 
 or even whether they should ever be permitted to 
 see him again. In this season of profound sorrow, 
 M. Cheverus was himself the comforter of all, and 
 endeavoured, in every way, to calm their anxiety, and 
 assuage their grief. " If I can once reach a foreign 
 country," said he to them, " have no fears for me ; 
 when one is young and strong, as I am, he can live 
 anywhere, because he can everywhere gain a subsist- 
 ence by labor. I am not differently constituted from 
 so many other men, who have no means of support 
 but the labor of their hands." 
 
 After doing all he could to console his relations, he 
 tore himself from their embraces, and, disguised as a 
 layman, and furnished with a merchant's passport, 
 which had been obtained for him, he set off for Paris, 
 where he arrived on the 25th of June. He was soon 
 recognised, denounced to the Committee of Vigilance, 
 obliged to change his place of asylum, and, at length, 
 
28 l-Il'E OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 succeeded in concealing himself, in a small, obscure, 
 and very retired hotel, in the neighbourhood of the 
 Church of Saint Eustache. Here he lived two 
 months, scarcely ever venturing out, feeling himself 
 suspended, as it were, between life and death, and 
 waiting for a favorable opportunity to execute his 
 project of going to England. In the mean time, the 
 resolution of the 26ih of August was passed, which 
 condemned to banishment those priests who had not 
 taken the constitutional oath. This was precisely 
 what M. Cheverus desired in his present state of 
 mind, and he determined to take advantage of this 
 law. He had hitherto escaped, as it were by miracle, 
 the search made for his person ; already, by the man- 
 ner in which he prayed in his chamber, and said his 
 breviary, he had been recognised as a priest, by the 
 master of the hotel where he lodged. The mas- 
 sacres of the 2d and 3d of September had taken 
 place. He happened to be passing near the Convent 
 of the Carmelites, when so many victims were cruelly 
 butchered there ; and his younger brother, then a law- 
 student in the College of Louis-le-Grand, was able to 
 save him, only by concealing him several days in his 
 own chamber. He was worn out by this cruel mode 
 of life, and wished to escape from it at all hazards. 
 This he would fain have accomplished through the 
 gate of martyrdom ; and he envied the lot of his 
 happy brethren, who had sealed their attachment to 
 the faith with their blood. " How ardently I wished,'* 
 
SAILS FOR ENGLAND. 29 
 
 did he often afterwards say, in speaking of these trying 
 times, '^ how ardently I wished, that a musket-ball 
 would strike me dead along with so many martyrs!*' 
 
 But since this happiness was not granted him, and 
 duty forbade him to court it, he commissioned his 
 brother to take all necessary measures for his ap- 
 proaching departure. His brother first had the mer- 
 chant's passport, given him at Laval, made out for 
 Calais ; and then, thinking that a passport of trans- 
 portation might be useful to the Abbe Cheverus in 
 sailing for England, he presented himself, under the 
 title of curate of Mayenne, and, in virtue of the de- 
 cree of the 26th of August, obtained the new pass- 
 port he desired. M. Cheverus, furnished with these 
 two passports, immediately left Paris, disguised as a 
 layman, and reached Calais, without interruption, the 
 Uth of September, 1792. There he first resumed 
 the character of a priest, presented his passport of 
 transportation, and embarked, as soon as possible, for 
 England, where he arrived in safety, happy to unite 
 in that noble act of devotion of all the French clergy, 
 who bore with them in their exile the lofty profession 
 of their faith, and hatred of schism and heresy. 
 
 3* 
 
30 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 BOOK SECOND. 
 
 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS DURING HIS ABSENCE FROM 
 FRANCE. 
 
 It was a painful situation, and one calculated to 
 depress a spirit less noble, or less sustained by faith 
 and a sense of duty, for a young man to be placed in 
 a foreign country, without any acquaintance there, 
 ignorant of its language, and with no pecuniary re- 
 sources, except a small sum he had brought with him, 
 and which must soon be entirely exhausted. 
 
 But, firm in his reliance on God, M. Cheverus 
 never felt a moment's anxiety, nor, for a single day, lost 
 his serenity and peace of mind. The English govern- 
 ment, with a generosity which will for ever redound to 
 its honor, proposed that he should participate in the 
 assistance afforded to all the French who were 
 unjustly persecuted and banished. M. Cheverus, 
 with still greater generosity, thanked the government 
 for its Hberal and obliging offer, and begged that this 
 relief might be appropriated to others, who needed it 
 more than he. "The little I have," said he, (he 
 possessed only three hundred francs, less than sixty 
 dollars,) " will suffice for my wants, until I learn some- 
 thing of the language ; and, when once I am acquainted 
 
GIVES LESSONS IN A BOARDING-SCHOOL. 31 
 
 with it, I can earn my living, if in no other way, by 
 the labor of my hands." 
 
 M. Cheverus applied himself to the study of the 
 English language with great assiduity ; and, aided by 
 the natural quickness of his mind, made such pro- 
 gress in it, that, at the end of three months, he was 
 able to give lessons in French and mathematics at a 
 boarding-school for young people, where he became 
 a teacher, in January, 1793. The principal of this 
 school was a Protestant clergyman ; imbued with all 
 the prejudices of his sect against Catholic priests, he 
 kept a strict watch, both day and night, over the new 
 professor ; observed all his motions, and scrutinized his 
 conduct, in order to satisfy himself how far his morals 
 were pure, and his deportment correct. The result 
 of this strict scrutiny was highly honorable to the 
 Catholic religion. He could never detect M. Chev- 
 erus in the least fault whatever ; and, filled with admi- 
 ration for a virtue always true to itself, as undeviating 
 in private as in public, he gave him his entire confi- 
 dence, after having frankly owned to him the ex- 
 treme distrust with which he had at first regarded 
 him, and which the regularity of his conduct had at 
 length dispelled. 
 
 In this institution, M. Cheverus was boarded, and 
 supplied with all the necessaries of life ; which was 
 all he desired. He received, besides, some compen- 
 sation ; and his generous heart then tasted the sweetest 
 of pleasures^ that of aiding his countrymen in their 
 
32 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 misfortunes. Deeply penetrated, from that time, with 
 the evangelical precept, " It is better to give than to 
 receive,'* he devoted to them all that he earned ; 
 and expended as little as possible on himself, in or- 
 der that he might be lavish, had that been in his 
 power, towards others. 
 
 Happy in this privilege which his situation afforded 
 him, he derived from it another important advantage, 
 for he possessed in his own pupils the best teacher of 
 the English language. Hearing nothing but English 
 spoken, he necessarily learned from them the mean- 
 ing of those words of which he was still ignorant, the 
 idiom of the language, and a correct pronunciation. 
 Obliged to express himself always in English, he im- 
 proved daily in his use of the language, in conse- 
 quence of his intercourse with these young persons, 
 who, like most other pupils, did not overlook a single 
 error, either in grammar or pronunciation ; but, by a 
 roguish smile, and sometimes, even, by good-natured 
 raillery, made him aware of his mistake. He join- 
 ed in their laugh with a good grace, thanked his 
 scholars for correcting him, noted with care, or asked 
 them to point out, the incorrect expression or accent, 
 and remembered it all the better, as one is least likely 
 to forget things which have made him ridiculous. 
 
 Thanks to these constant and vigilant monitors, 
 M. Cheverus found himself able, at the end of a year, 
 to speak English very intelligibly and correctly. But 
 so noble a mind aimed at something higher than the 
 
HIS FIRST SERMON IN ENGLISH. 33 
 
 acquisition of a language. He had devoted himself 
 with so much ardor to the study of English, because 
 he regarded a knowledge of it as auxiliary to his zeal, 
 and as a means of rendering himself useful to religion 
 and the church. He sought an interview with Mon- 
 seigneur Douglas, the Catholic Bishop of London ; 
 and, after having proved to him, by some pieces of 
 composition, which he submitted to his inspection, as 
 well as by his conversation, that he possessed a suffi- 
 cient knowledge of the English language to perform the 
 duties of a minister acceptably, he asked, and obtained, 
 his permission to exercise all the clerical functions in 
 his district. Thus empowered, he visited several Cath- 
 olic families in the vicinity, who had neither churches 
 nor priests, proposed to them to assemble every Sunday 
 and holyday, and offered them his services as chaplain. 
 They accepted this proposal with joy, and, the follow- 
 ing Sunday, he preached his first sermon in English. 
 Being in some doubt whether he had been under- 
 stood, and wishing to ascertain the fact, he asked 
 a man of the lower class, what he thought of the 
 sermon. The honest man replied, with simplicity, 
 ^^ Your sermon was not like most others ; there was 
 not a single dictionary-word in it ; all the words were 
 easy to understand." M. Cheverus was satisfied with 
 this reply, which gave him more pleasure than the 
 highest praise of a learned man could have done. 
 To the latest period of his life, he was fond of 
 
34 I-IFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 relating this circumstance to the priests of his dio- 
 cese ; to convince them, that the great excellence of 
 preaching is, to be intelligible to all, even the most 
 unlearned ; that all those high-sounding v^^ords, those 
 newly coined, studied expressions, which an unletter- 
 ed man could not understand without a dictionary, 
 ought to be banished from the pulpit ; and that it is 
 far better to be understood by a simple woman than 
 to be praised by an academician. 
 
 Encouraged by his first successful efforts, he con- 
 tinued to preach and to catechize, and soon collected 
 a numerous and exemplary congregation. Finding that 
 the small room, in which he had commenced his min- 
 istry, would no longer accommodate them, he formed 
 the design of opening a chapel. This was a great 
 undertaking for a poor and exiled priest ; but his 
 untiring zeal, and the benevolence of the faithful 
 band of his hearers, insured a success more than 
 commensurate with the first design. In addition to 
 a chapel, spacious lodgings were procured for the 
 ecclesiastics who took part in the services, and 
 such others as they were pleased to associate with 
 themselves. The Bishop of London, hearing of 
 the success and apostolic devotion of M. Chev- 
 erus, was gracious enough to come in person to 
 consecrate the new chapel, with a view to testify 
 publicly the interest he felt in the work, and his great , 
 esteem for its founder. This new institution being 
 firmly established, M. Cheverus thought it best to 
 
OPENS A CHAPEL TN LONDON. 35 
 
 leave the boarding-school, in which he had been em- 
 ployed to give lessons since his arrival in England. 
 The time he passed there every day in teaching the 
 sciences, he thought ought to be wholly consecrated 
 to the glory of God and the salvation of souls. Con- 
 sequently, he took up his residence in the house ad- 
 joining the chapel he had just opened. As it was 
 larger than was necessary for a single individual, he 
 invited several ecclesiastics to share it with him, hap- 
 py in being able to add this act of benevolence to 
 his other charitable deeds. 
 
 He had not been long established in his new res- 
 idence, before a wealthy English nobleman, who was 
 struck with hearing him universally praised, and his 
 amiable qualities everywhere enlarged upon, earnestly 
 requested him to have the goodness to take charge 
 of his son, and give him lessons in geometry and al- 
 gebra. M. Cheverus accepted this proposal, as he 
 thought it would not interfere with his ministerial du- 
 ties, and might, on the other hand, furnish him with 
 further resources for doing good. He lived thus for 
 some time, laboring with success and satisfaction to 
 himself in his new chapel, and giving daily lessons to 
 his new pupil. The nobleman, having himself wit- 
 nessed the many excellent qualities of his son's pre- 
 ceptor, spared no pains to bind M. Cheverus to his 
 service. He lavished upon him all the comforts and 
 enjoyments that wealth could bestow, and even made 
 him the most matjnificent offers for life. 
 
36 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 The attraction of a situation so agreeable, in a 
 worldly point of view, could not prevail on M. Chev- 
 erus. All these temporal advantages, all these lux- 
 uries of life, appeared to him alike dangerous to 
 his piety, and unworthy a minister of Jesus Christ, 
 who should, like his Master, lead a life of poverty 
 and. self-denial. *' I was too well off' for a priest," 
 he has since said to his friends, " I tasted only en- 
 joyment." It then seemed to him that his services 
 might be better employed elsewhere than in Eng- 
 land, where the efforts of the priests were impeded 
 by their numbers ; while so many other countries of 
 the globe were abandoned, so many people left en- 
 tirely destitute, so many nations still sitting in the 
 shadow of death. Would not these nations one day 
 rise up and reproach him for remaining where there 
 were already too many priests, instead of carrying his 
 ministrations among those who were without any ? 
 He communicated these views to the Bishop of Lon- 
 don, who, wishing to keep him near himself, replied, 
 " Yes, it is true, we have a superabundance of priests 
 here, but there is a scarcity of such priests as your- 
 self, and I have need of them ; remain with me." 
 M. Cheverus was not satisfied with this decision, and 
 his ardent spirit sighed for a more extended field of 
 usefulness. 
 
 It was not long before an opportunity for such self- 
 devotion presented itself A college was about to be 
 opened at Cayenne ; the situation had been fixed 
 
COLLEGE AT CAYENNE. —aUlBERON EXPEDITION. 37 
 
 upon, all necessary preparations made, and nothing 
 was wanting but a head. But it required a person 
 of judgment, firmness, and zeal, and one well versed 
 in literature. M. Cheverus was believed to unite all 
 these qualities ; it was proposed to him to put him- 
 self at the head of this establishment ; and the im- 
 portant advantages, which would result to religion from 
 such an arrangement, were set before him. He con- 
 sidered this proposal for some time, imploring Heaven 
 to aid his decision ; but finally concluded that it was 
 not his duty to accept it. He felt that his zeal de- 
 manded a wider field of exertion than the narrow 
 limits of a college would afford ; besides, although 
 he loved literature, it was rather as a relaxation from 
 the labors of his ministry, and more serious studies, 
 than as an occupation for life. Providence, doubtless, 
 ordered it thus, to keep him from the persecution 
 which soon after broke out against the priests at Cay- 
 enne, and which would almost infallibly have cut him 
 off in the midst of his career. The same Providence 
 protected him, no less visibly, on another occasion, 
 and snatched him from certain death, notwithstand- 
 ing all his efforts to expose himself to danger. 
 
 Monseigneur de Herce, Bishop of Dol, had ap- 
 pointed him his vicar-general, in order that he might 
 have in him a powerful assistant, when more happy 
 days should dawn on France, and allow him to re- 
 turn there. M. Cheverus, at first, saw in this nomi- 
 nation only a testimony of attachment on the part of 
 4 
 
38 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 a bishop whom he esteemed and venerated. But, 
 after a Httle time, the emigrants having formed the 
 unfortunate project of the Quiberon expedition ; 
 and Monseigneur de Herce, urged by the desire of 
 reluming to his own diocese, having consented to ac- 
 company them, that he might succour by his ministry 
 those who required its consolations, M. Cheverus 
 thought that his title of vicar-general then imposed 
 upon him weighty duties. He sought Monseigneur 
 de Herce, and asked permission to accompany him. 
 " No," replied the worthy Bishop, " I am old, and 
 may risk the (ew days that still remain for me to 
 pass on earth ; but as for you, you are young, and I 
 should consider myself culpable to the church, if I 
 should expose it to the loss of the long and useful 
 services you may render it." M. Cheverus, who was 
 never intimidated by personal danger, insisted, urged, 
 and conjured. " You are as a father to me," he 
 said ; " it is the duty of a child to attend his father 
 in times of peril. I ought, and I will accompany 
 you." The Bishop was obliged to assume a tone of 
 severity, to restrain his intrepid courage. *' If you 
 follow me," said the Bishop, " you will cease, by that 
 very act, to be my vicar-general ; I withdraw your title. 
 Remain ; such is my wish ; and, if the enterprise suc- 
 ceed, I will immediately send for you to come to 
 me." M. Cheverus was obliged to obey ; and those 
 only, who know his heart, can understand how much 
 it cost him to separate from this venerable friend of 
 
KECEIVES A LETTER FROM M. MATIGNON. 39 
 
 his youth ; how great was his solicitude in regard to 
 the expedition, and what anguish he felt on learning 
 its fatal issue, the slaughter of nearly all the French 
 who joined in it, and of the worthy Bishop among 
 them. 
 
 M. Cheverus, having thus escaped death, believed 
 himself more than ever called upon to consecrate en- 
 tirely to the service of God those days which had 
 been so providentially spared to him ; and the inspi- 
 rations of that zeal which called him to other lands 
 were felt more powerfully than ever. While these 
 thoughts occupied him, he received a letter from the 
 Abbe Matignon, doctor, and late professor, of the 
 Sorbonne, whom he had known in Paris. This esti- 
 mable ecclesiastic, no less distinguished for his piety 
 than for his talents, for his zeal than for his pru- 
 dence, and endowed with every quality calculated to 
 win the heart, was then alone at Boston, where he 
 had been stationed by Monseigneur Carroll, Bishop 
 of Baltimore, whose jurisdiction then extended over 
 the whole United States. Besides Boston, M. Mati- 
 gnon had charge of all New England, and the Pe- 
 nobscot and Passamaquoddy tribes of Indians. Ap- 
 palled by labors so much greater than the strength of 
 a single individual could sustain ; still more, by the ill- 
 will subsisting in the minds of men, divided into more 
 than thirty religious sects, all animated with violent 
 hatred against what they called papacy, he wished 
 to procure a fellow-laborer, who should divide with 
 
40 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERLfS. 
 
 him this heavy burden. To find one was difficult ; 
 for every priest was not calculated for a country so 
 imbued with prejudice against the Catholic clergy. 
 It required a man possessed of virtue which should 
 appear lovely, of a character full of gentleness, of no- 
 ble disinterestedness, of a cultivated mind and ex- 
 tensive information, to overcome prejudice, to secure 
 affection, and to gain esteem and respect. M. Ma- 
 tignon gave the subject a prayerful and deliberate 
 consideration, and it seemed to him that M. Cheverus, 
 whose rare worth and amiable character he had justly 
 appreciated at the Sorbonne, was the very man he 
 sought. He wrote to him on the subject, in 1795, 
 and represented to him the great importance of this 
 destitute station ; set before his view a new church 
 to be formed in this new country ; Catholics without 
 teachers, scattered over an immense- tract, and expos- 
 ed to the loss of their faith ; savage tribes to be 
 evangelized, and all the duties of an apostle to be 
 fulfilled. Was not this vast field indeed worthy of 
 his zeal and devotion ? And in what part of the 
 world could his services be more useful to the church ? 
 M. Cheverus was vividly impressed with the con- 
 tents of this letter ; the reasons it contained were 
 convincing and unanswerable, and the man who had 
 given them was a saint, and his friend. He believ- 
 ed, however, that, in a matter of such moment, he 
 ought not to decide lightly, nor obey the first impulse 
 of inconsiderate zeal. He took time for deliberation ; 
 
DETERMINES TO GO TO BOSTON. 41 
 
 he prayed, asked counsel, weighed all the reasons on 
 both sides of the question, and, at length, after such 
 hesitation as prudence demanded, he decided to join 
 the worthy Abbe Matignon. He considered it his 
 duty to make known this determination to Monsei- 
 gneur de Gonsans, Bishop of Mans, who had always 
 manifested great kindness towards him. This excel- 
 lent prelate replied to him in a most affectionate let- 
 ter. He admired, he praised his zeal ; but, at the 
 same time, expressed his fears, that his young friend 
 (the name by which he was pleased to designate him) 
 was about to undertake too much, and, especially, that 
 he might not return again to his own diocese, which 
 would occasion him deep regret, and be an irrepara- 
 ble loss to his flock. M. Cheverus regarded this let- 
 ter only as a testimony of tender Interest. His part 
 was taken, he hesitated no longer ; neither the en- 
 treaties of his friends, nor the prayers of the Bishop 
 of London, nor the love of his country, from which 
 he was about to banish himself, perhaps forever, could 
 induce him to alter his determination ; his only care 
 was to set off as soon as possible. 
 
 One thing alone remained to be settled ; this was 
 to make arrangements, respecting his present and fu- 
 ture claims upon his patrimonial property. But he cut 
 short this business at once. He went to the French 
 ambassador in London, and, by an irrevocable instru- 
 ment, executed in legal form, renounced his entire 
 patrimony in favor of his brother and sisters, and 
 4* 
 
12 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUg. 
 
 charged the ambassador to communicate the docu- 
 ment to his family as soon as possible. Then, poor, 
 hke Jesus Christ, his Master, and without any worldly 
 possessions, his heart felt more free, unrestrained, and 
 contented. It seemed to him, that, after having imi- 
 tated the apostles, who left all to follow their voca- 
 tion, he was better fitted to enter upon an eminently 
 apostolic mission ; and that God, who had planted 
 the faith in the world by the ministry of twelve poor 
 men, would also bless more richly, in another hemi- 
 sphere, the word of his poor minister. Another con- 
 sideration, also, no less worthy of his piety and of 
 his excellent heart than that of which we have just 
 spoken, filled his soul with peace and comfort. As 
 the revolutionists in France took possession of all the 
 property of emigrants, he had been apprehensive that 
 a blind hatred might comprehend under this name the 
 banished priests also, and that his family might be 
 disturbed by attempts to deprive them of that portion 
 of the inheritance revertible to him. By the instru- 
 ment drawn up in presence of the ambassador, he 
 had secured peace and tranquillity to his family, and 
 enjoyed a heartfelt satisfaction in having done so. 
 
 He then called on the captain of a vessel about to 
 sail for Boston, to bespeak a passage in her. The 
 request was, at first, refused ; in consequence, probably, 
 of the prejudices existing against Catholic priests. 
 But M. Cheverus, without suffering himself to be re- 
 pulsed by the refusal of an inferior officer, asked and 
 
SAILS FOR BOSTON. 43 
 
 obtained an interview with the captain himself. A 
 few moments were sufficient to interest and prevail 
 with him. The captain was so delighted with the 
 conversation of the j^outhful missionary, and with the 
 noble simplicity of his amiable manners, that he read- 
 ily consented to receive him on board, and promised 
 him all the respect that he could secure to him during 
 the passage. 
 
 Every thing being prepared for his departure, 
 M. Cheverus bade adieu to the Catholics of his 
 church, who all melted into tears, and to his numerous 
 friends, who bitterly deplored the loss they were about 
 to sustain. One of them, formerly his instructer in the 
 Sorbonne, embraced him in the fulness of his heart, 
 his eyes suffused with tears. " Ah ! my friend," said 
 he, " was it, then, to evangelize savages, that you 
 composed those beautiful dissertations at the Sor- 
 bonne ? Why go to bury your talents in the woods ? 
 In France, you would have become one of our most 
 distinguished bishops." M. Cheverus tore himself 
 away from all these hopes, as well as from the em- 
 braces of his friends, and embarked for Boston. The 
 first Friday out, he ate only some bread and cheese, in 
 compliance with the rules of abstinence. Such a 
 course would have drawn upon any other person the 
 derision and banter of the passengers, who were all 
 Protestants. But the mild and amiable virtues of 
 M. Cheverus had inspired so much respect and interest, 
 that no one would presume to indulge in the least 
 
44 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 unkind reflection ; and the captain of the ship hence- 
 forth ordered, every Friday and Saturday, a dinner 
 offish to be prepared for the Catholic missionary. 
 During the whole passage, there was a constant re- 
 ciprocity of respect and kind attentions between M. 
 Cheverus and all those on board ; and, on the 3d of 
 October, 1796, he arrived safely at Boston. 
 
 The Abbe Matignon received him as an angel sent 
 by Heaven to his aid, tenderly embraced him, with 
 tears of joy, and declared it was the happiest day of 
 his life. He wrote immediately to Bishop Carroll, 
 announcing the happy news, and requesting full pow- 
 ers for the new missionary, whose credentials he for- 
 warded to him at the same time. One of these was a 
 letter from Monseigneur de Herce, Bishop of Dol, an- 
 other from Monseigneur de Gonsans, Bishop of Mans ; 
 both bearing honorable testimony to the character of 
 M. Cheverus, and attesting the purity of his faith, 
 his unwearied ardor, the fervor of his piety, his 
 great attainments in science, and his entire devoted- 
 ness to the throne of his kings, and to the head of 
 the church.* Bishop Carroll gave thanks to Heaven 
 
 * " Attestamur ipsum cum zelo et pietate singulari se ges- 
 sisse tanquam dignum et commendabilem Dei ministrum, .... 
 Sana doctrina imbutum, scientia et religione commendabi- 
 lem, regno regique Francorum addictissimum et devotissi- 
 mum, atque propter zelum cathoiicse fidei, sanctae sedis apos- 
 tolicffi inviolabile studium, necnon constantem verbi divini 
 prsedicationem, et pertinacem impiorum conatibus resistentiam, 
 a parochia sua violenter ereptum. " , . . . 
 
CONDITION OF THE MISSION AT BOSTON. 45 
 
 for the precious intelligence, and, without delay, in- 
 vested M. Cheverus with full powers for entering on 
 his ministry. 
 
 M. Matignon and M. Cheverus, strong in their 
 confidence in each other, but still more in their re- 
 liance on God, commenced in earnest the great 
 work committed to their charge. The enterprise 
 was indeed great, and beset with a thousand dif- 
 ficulties. It may give some idea of this, to make 
 known the condition of the mission, and the state of 
 public opinion. The mission embraced the whole of 
 New England, of which Boston was the capital, and 
 the Penobscot and Passamaquoddy tribes of Indians ; 
 that is to say, a territory of more than three hundred 
 miles in extent, over which the Catholics were 
 scattered, and so far removed from each other that it 
 was impossible to assemble them for the public exer- 
 cises of religion. The missionaries were, therefore, 
 obliged to travel, themselves, over this vast region, 
 to go and preach the gospel to families, one after an- 
 other, at a distance, sometimes, of two or three hundred 
 miles, to administer the sacraments and to offer mass 
 in each dwelling; for, even supposing they could have 
 been assembled, there was no church. The difficul- 
 ties, of which we have been speaking as to New Eng- 
 land, were infinitely greater among the Penobscot and 
 Passamaquoddy Indians. Wandering in the woods, 
 on the farthest borders of the State of Maine, hun- 
 dreds of miles from Boston, to preach among them, 
 
46 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 required an absence of several months from the heart 
 of the mission. All these difficulties, however, they 
 accounted as trifles. Long journeys, toil, and fatigue, 
 were their portion ; and in these an apostle places his 
 happiness. But their zeal encountered a more serious 
 obstacle. 
 
 The whole country, and Boston especially, being 
 inhabited by English colonists, who had brought with 
 them all the religious prejudices of their native coun- 
 try, was, as we have before remarked, filled with a 
 great variety of religious sects, which, though in doc- 
 trine differing widely from each other, were all united 
 on one point, hatred of the Catholic religion. The 
 ministers of these various sects never ceased declaim- 
 ing against it ; representing the Romish church to the 
 people as an impure assemblage of idolaters, of cor- 
 rupt and most despicable men ; as the new Babylon 
 accursed in the Apocalypse ; as the enemy of God 
 and man ; its doctrines as a hideous collection of im- 
 pieties, absurdities, and errors ; its priests as vile 
 impostors, who could not be too studiously avoided. 
 These opinions, constantly held up to view in their 
 preaching, were generally believed, and had taken 
 root in all ranks of society ; so that the name of Cath- 
 olic was everywhere held in execration, that of priest in 
 horror, and the small number of the faithful, who dwelt 
 in the country, were given over to hatred and contempt; 
 the rather, that, being mostly Irish exiles, they were 
 
PREJUDICES AGAINST THE CATHOLIC PRIESTS. 47 
 
 poor, and consequently obtained no consideration on 
 their own account. 
 
 To found a Catholic church in a country where 
 such a state of feeling existed, seemed almost a hope- 
 less enterprise. No cooperation could be expect- 
 ed, still less could preaching be made acceptable, 
 among a people imbued with such prejudices; one 
 could look to encounter only impediments and 
 opposition. Mr. Thayer, a zealous priest, had al- 
 ready attempted the work, and failed ; and yet 
 who would have appeared to be better suited to 
 the undertaking? He had formerly been a Pres- 
 byterian minister, in Boston, and was afterwards con- 
 verted, at Rome, by seeing the miracles wrought 
 at the tomb of the venerable Benedict Labre. He 
 then became a Catholic priest, and preached the faith 
 in the very place where he had once proclaimed 
 error. It would seem that his example, as well as 
 his preaching, ought, therefore, to have produced the 
 most favorable impression. But some measures to 
 which his zeal prompted him gave offence ; and a de- 
 fiance, addressed to the Protestant ministers, exaspe- 
 rated and displeased the minds of people to such a 
 degree, that Bishop Carroll thought it best to with- 
 draw him from Boston, and give him another situa- 
 tion. 
 
 M. Matignon and M. Cheverus, warned by such 
 an example, saw the necessity of the greatest circum- 
 spection, in their own conduct ; and concluded that. 
 
48 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 the first thing to be attempted by them was, to uproot 
 these many odious prejudices, which, while they re- 
 mained, would always present an insuperable barrier 
 to their efforts to do good. They believed that the 
 only effectual refutation of such calumnies, and the 
 best means of success, was, to exhibit lives wholly 
 apostolical, to observe the law of charily in all their 
 intercourse, and to be always mild and gentle in their 
 language. A new and touching sight was then wit- 
 nessed in Boston ; two men, examples of every virtue, 
 living together as brothers, without distinction of prop- 
 erty, with no difference of purpose or of will ; always 
 ready to yield to each other, to anticipate each other 
 in rendering the most polite and delicate attentions ; 
 possessing, in truth, but one heart, and one soul; filled 
 with the same desire, that of doing good ; the same 
 inclinations, those which pointed to virtue; and the 
 same love of whatever is good, upright, and charitable. 
 These choice spirits maintained the most pleasant 
 intercourse, the tenderest intimacy, yet they never 
 descended to familiarity ; in the simplicity of their 
 mutual relations, there was always something great 
 and noble, in unison with the elevation of their senti- 
 ments, and the dignity of their characters. A Prot- 
 estant journal,* in speaking of them, says: ^' Those, 
 who witnessed the manner in which they lived to- 
 gether, will never forget the refinement and elevation 
 of their friendship; it surpassed those attachments 
 
 * Boston Monthly Magazine, [June, 1825.J 
 
EXEMPLARY LIFE OF MATIGNON AND CHEVERUS. 49 
 
 which dehght us in classical story, and equalled the 
 lovely union of the son of Saul and the minstrel of 
 Israel." 
 
 To the example of a union which religion alone 
 could render so perfect, they added that of a life of 
 poverty and privation, but honorable and dignified, 
 passed wholly in prayer, in study, or the labors of the 
 ministry ; that is to say, in perfecting themselves, or 
 rendering mankind wiser and better. They did good, 
 whenever an occasion presented itself, and " blushed 
 to find it fame " ; they exhausted their strength in 
 journeyings and toils ; travelling on foot, at all hours 
 of the day and night, and at all seasons of the year, to 
 carry, often many miles' distance, consolation to the 
 afflicted, secret assistance to the indigent, words of 
 reconciliation to families at variance. In short, they 
 sacrificed themselves without reserve for their fellow- 
 men, and regarded all their sacrifices as nothing. It 
 was clearly evident, that no interested motives influ- 
 enced them, that they expected no reward in this 
 world, neither fortune nor glory, and that all their hopes 
 were in heaven. Whoever approached them always 
 met with a kind and gracious reception Whoever had 
 a favor to ask, found them always obliging, and happy 
 to do a kindness. In fine, wherever they were seen, 
 they were recognised as men different from others, 
 possessing more elevated sentiments, souls more filled 
 with love, hearts more generous ; in a word, as men 
 of God, — as apostles. 
 5 
 
50 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Such a beautiful exhibition of virtue could not fail 
 to strike the inhabitants of Boston with astonishment ; 
 and every man's conscience exclaimed, "Are these, 
 then, the Catholics, about whom we have heard so 
 many evil things ? the Papists, who have been de- 
 picted to us in colors so dark?" 
 
 Such, however, was the strength of prejudice, that 
 it did not yield all at once, before such exalted virtue. 
 It required a long time to disabuse minds so preju- 
 diced. At length, after M. Cheverus had been in 
 Boston a year, a Protestant came to him, and ad- 
 dressed him in language remarkable for its candor. 
 " Sir," said he, ^' I have studied you closely, for a 
 whole year; I have watched all your steps, and ob- 
 served all your actions; I did not believe that a min- 
 ister of your religion could be a good man. I come 
 to make you the reparation which honor demands. 
 I declare to you, that I esteem and venerate you, as 
 the most virtuous man that I have ever known." 
 
 To this first testimony, others, no less remarkable, 
 were soon added. A Protestant journal* informs us, 
 that a minister, wishing to bring over to his own sect 
 men whose virtue and learning were so much talked 
 of in the city, visited them, one day, for the pur- 
 pose of endeavouring to convince them of the fal- 
 sity of their religious belief, and the excellence of 
 his own. Struck by the simplicity of the undertak- 
 ing, they received the clergyman kindly, thanked 
 
 •[Boston Monthly Magazine, i6iU] 
 
TRIBUTE OF A PROTESTANT JOURNAL. 51 
 
 him for his benevolent intentions, and, after having 
 heard patiently all he had to say, replied with so 
 much clearness to what he had advanced, and de- 
 fended the Catholic faith with so much ability, that 
 he was confounded and knew not what to answer. 
 On his return to the friends to whom he had com- 
 municated his design, he said, " These men are so 
 learned, there is no doing any thing with them in 
 argument; so pure and evangelical in their Hves, 
 there is no reproaching them ; and I fear it will give 
 us much trouble to check their influence." 
 
 This anecdote may afford some idea of the great 
 change that had been wrought in public opinion by 
 the virtuous conduct of M. Matignon and M. Cheve- 
 rus. To contempt had succeeded esteem, and even 
 veneration. " In contemplating them," says the Prot- 
 estant journal already quoted, " who can doubt, that 
 human nature is permitted to approach perfection, 
 and assume a near and sweet resemblance to the 
 Man Divine ? The Pagan world was full of in- 
 stances of lofty and virtuous conduct, which dignified 
 
 and exalted human nature The hero, the seer, and 
 
 the sage, had existed before Christianity was known ; 
 but the saint is a character which has been added to 
 the catalogue since. Socrates, the wise and the good, 
 had not, like St. John, a master's bosom on which 
 to lean his head, where all was purity and love." 
 
 After so favorable a change had taken place in 
 public opinion, M. Cheverus could mount the pulpit, 
 
52 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and preach with confidence ; for men soon give up 
 their prejudices against a rehgion whose ministers 
 they revere. This was exactly what took place. 
 From the commencement of his mission, he had 
 preached, catechized, and aided, to the best of his 
 ability, his worthy friend, M. Matignon. His preach- 
 ing had created a great sensation ; the Catholics had 
 heard and treasured up his words with a holy joy. 
 His discourses were always easy and natural, because 
 they came from the heart ; always persuasive, because 
 they required nothing but what he himself practised. 
 But now that prejudice had given way to an opposite 
 sentiment, the Protestants wished to hear him ; and, 
 having once heard, they desired to hear him again 
 and again, and to become his friends. They ad- 
 mired the union of so much simplicity with such 
 nobleness of soul ; the goodness of his heart, which 
 appeared in all his expressions ; and the tender char- 
 ity which breathed forth in every accent. " His 
 eloquence," said one of their journals,* " was of the 
 
 most persuasive order; every thing he said seemed 
 
 to flow from pure and elevated feelings His ser- 
 mons were succinct and sweet effusions of piety and 
 affection ; the seraphim seemed to have touched 
 his lips with a coal from the altar of the MosX 
 High." 
 
 M. Matignon, whose pure and noble soul was a 
 stranger to any thought of rivalship or jealousy, re- 
 * [Boston Monthly Magazine, ibid.] 
 
ABATEMENT OF PREJUDICE AGAINST THE CATHOLICS. 53 
 
 joiced in the great success of his colleague, and the 
 consideration it brought him. Whenever he heard 
 him praised, his countenance became radiant with 
 joy and happiness. He was, indeed, a father, who 
 gloried in the triumphs of his beloved son. M. Chev- 
 erus, on his part, perceiving his benevolent disposi- 
 tion, and his cordial and disinterested friendship, which 
 seemed to say, like St. John the Baptist, in speaking 
 of the Saviour, " He must increase, but I must de- 
 crease," Oportet ilium crescere, me autem minuij en- 
 deavoured, in every way, to manifest his gratitude 
 and tenderness, his respect and devotion. Whatever 
 might be his superiority in certain respects, M. Chev- 
 erus regarded himself only as his disciple and child, 
 doing nothing except by his orders, and under his 
 direction. He followed his advice, even in regard to 
 his sermons, and, before he went into the pulpit, every 
 thing had generally been arranged between them. 
 In the mean time, the general esteem, with w^hich 
 M. Cheverus was honored, extended to his flock. 
 No one could believe that the sheep of such a pastor 
 could be the base and despicable beings the Prot- 
 estant clergy represented them to be. Prejudice 
 diminished daily ; and it was not long before the 
 instructions of M. Cheverus, and the docility with 
 which the Catholics conformed to them, dissipated 
 it entirely. He often repeated to his hearers the 
 precept of the Apostle, that we must silence those 
 who speak evil of us, by means of charity, kindness, 
 5* 
 
54 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and holy example ; that it is the characteristic of true 
 piety to be always kind, to minister to the happiness 
 of all around us, to maintain, in all circumstances 
 and towards all persons, an honorable course of con- 
 duct, and to be honest and scrupulous in all our deal- 
 ings. When he had instructed them in their duties 
 towards individuals, he explained to them those they 
 owed to the state ; enforced upon them their obli- 
 gation to obey the laws, even when they might be 
 evaded without incurring punishment ; to respect the 
 magistrates ; to contribute to the good order, peace, 
 and prosperity of the state ; and, if it should be 
 attacked, to employ in its defence, if necessary, their 
 strength, their fortunes, and their lives. The Catho- 
 lics listened to his teachings, and practised upon them. 
 Of all the religious societies then in Boston, this was 
 the most just, the most charitable, the most devoted 
 to whatever is good. In the last war between the 
 United States and England, the Catholics were the 
 most zealous in the defence of the city of Boston ; 
 the most prompt in rendering assistance, wherever it 
 was required ; the most active in laboring, even with 
 their own hands, in the construction of ramparts and 
 fortifications for the protection of the city. So that 
 truth obliged the Protestants themselves to do them 
 the justice of saying, in the newspapers of the day, 
 that they were as good citizens as they were upright 
 and honorable men. Division ceased from that time ; 
 and relations of mutual esteem and respect were es- 
 
THE CONFIDENCE REPOSED IN M. CHEVERUS. 55 
 
 tablished. M. Cheverus, being interrogated by the 
 Holy See in regard to the state of his mission, was 
 able to reply : *' In this country, where, only a few 
 years since, the Catholic church was anathematized, 
 and the name of priest was held in horror, we are 
 now respected and beloved ; we are thought well of, 
 and are kindly treated : In Jiac nostra civitate, et aliis 
 locis, uhi paucis ahhinc annis, infandum, ut ita 
 dicam, erat Ecclesia Catholica, horrendum sacerdotis 
 nomen, nos veneratione et amiciiid prosequuntur, be- 
 nigne de nobis cogitant, benigne in nos agunt.'^ 
 
 The universal confidence, which M. Cheverus 
 had inspired, soon brought him into new and in- 
 conceivably multiplied relations. All persons, wheth- 
 er Protestants or Catholics, wished to become ac- 
 quainted with so amiable a man ; and he, always 
 accessible and kind, welcomed every one with the 
 most affectionate cordiality. Even if they had no 
 business to transact with him, and had been at- 
 tracted merely by the pleasure of enjoying the 
 charms of his society, he took no offence, but thought 
 it a great thing for him to make virtue and religion 
 lovely. But usually those who visited him were 
 the afflicted, who came to receive words of conso- 
 lation from his lips ; or the unfortunate, who came 
 to lay before him their necessities, and to solicit his 
 charity ; or those whose minds were troubled, and 
 doubtful what course to pursue, who came to ask 
 his counsel. And, what is very remarkable, many 
 
56 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Protestant ladies, from the highest ranks of society, 
 came to open their hearts to him, and to reveal 
 their most secret troubles of conscience, or of a do- 
 mestic character ; and this was carried so far, that 
 one of these ladies having said to him, one day, 
 that what was most repugnant to her feelings in the 
 Catholic religion, and would prevent her ever embra- 
 cing it, was the doctrine of confession ; M. Cheverus, 
 with his delightful smile, said to her: " No, Madam, 
 you have not so great a repugnance to confession as 
 you think; on the contrary, you experience its ne- 
 cessity and its value ; since, for a long time, you 
 have confessed to me, without knowing it ; confes- 
 sion is nothing more than the disclosure of the 
 troubles of conscience, which you have been pleased 
 to make to me, in order to receive my advice." 
 Thus M. Cheverus was the confidant and coun- 
 sellor of all ; and one of the lessons, which mothers 
 most frequently inculcated on their children was, in 
 all the troubles and difficulties of life, to go to 
 M. Cheverus, ask his advice, and follow it. A 
 Protestant writer* informs us, " that he had as many 
 confidential communications out of the confessional, as 
 in it ; " because every one " knew his bosom would 
 be a safe repository of their secrets and their griefs, 
 and that his wisdom would suggest the most honor- 
 able course of duty." 
 
 * [Boston Monthly Magazine, ibid."} 
 
MANAGES THE CONCERNS OF HIS PARISHIONERS. 57 
 
 The confidence, which was reposed in M. Chev- 
 erus, was not confined to asking his advice. Many- 
 persons, who could not manage their temporal affairs 
 themselves, gave them up entirely to his direction, and 
 he gave them his services as agent. These were wid- 
 ows, orphans, domestics, the infirm, and those who 
 were entirely unacquainted with business, and had 
 neither relations nor fi-iends who would attend to their 
 concerns. These placed their money in his hands ; 
 and, like a good father of a family, happy in doing 
 a pleasure to his well-beloved children, he invested 
 it in the funds, in his own name, and managed it as 
 judiciously as the most skilful financier; and when 
 the dividends w^ere declared, he drew the interest, 
 and carried it immediately to those to whom it be- 
 longed. Again, there were individuals, who feared, 
 that, after their death, difficulties might arise among 
 their heirs, or that their intentions would not be 
 faithfully carried into execution. These constituted 
 M. Cheverus their general legatee, and were then 
 free from all anxiety ; for they felt assured that every 
 thing would be disposed of in the most just, as well 
 as in the wisest manner. Whenever these persons 
 were competent to manage their own affairs, M. Chev- 
 erus did not take charge of them ; but he directed 
 them by wise counsels how to act; instructed them 
 what to do, and what to avoid ; and, by such advice, 
 far more precious than alms-giving, he aided them to 
 rise above want, and to attain to that honest compe- 
 tence, which a wise man always desires. 
 
58 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Let it not be thought that all this business ever 
 diverted the attention of M. Cheverus from his other 
 duties. These charitable occupations constituted his 
 recreation after his meals, and all the rest of his time 
 was given to study, and the offices of his ministry. 
 A regular portion of each day he devoted to ecclesi- 
 astical science ; but, at the same time, he was careful 
 not to neglect studies of a different character. An 
 attentive and discriminating observer of society, he 
 had remarked the high estimation in which human 
 learning and those who possessed it were held ; the 
 little consequence accorded to those who were unskilled 
 in it ; and the general taste for literary acquirements, 
 even among women, who read and criticized works 
 of genius. Hence he concluded, that, in order to 
 remove the reproach of ignorance, which had been 
 cast upon the Catholic clergy, and to win for his 
 teachings that esteem and consideration which should 
 attend the preacher, he must yield to no one in this 
 respect ; that it was all in vain for a clergyman to 
 be thoroughly acquainted with his own profession; 
 the world, which accounts this learning as noth- 
 ing, would not the less stigmatize him with the 
 reproach of ignorance, and, consequently, be but 
 little disposed to listen to him, and to believe him. 
 He therefore applied himself to those studies which 
 were held in highest honor in Boston. He acquired 
 so perfect a knowledge of English, says a journal* 
 
 * [Boston Monthly Magazine, ibid.] 
 
DEVOTES HIMSELF TO BELLES LETTRES. 59 
 
 published in that city, that "he had made himself 
 master of the difficulties of that language, in its ar- 
 rangement, construction, and etymology." He read 
 all the distinguished authors in the language, whether 
 in prose or in verse, and retained in his memory 
 the finest portions and most striking passages they 
 contained ; so that he astonished all their learned 
 men by the extent of his knowledge, as well as by 
 the appropriateness of his quotations ; and yet his at- 
 tainments in this department by no means equalled 
 his acquaintance with French, Greek, and Latin lit- 
 erature. He was accustomed daily to refresh his 
 memory by reading the classic authors. "He seem- 
 ed," says the journal already quoted, " to pass from 
 business, and from the altar, to the groves of the 
 Academy by a private and short path of his own, 
 and then return to his duties with new vigor, from 
 drinking at the fountains and culling the undying 
 flowers of the Muse." The extent and variety of 
 his information connected him with all the learned 
 men of Boston ; the literary societies of that city 
 wished him to join them, and attend their nieet- 
 ings. He courteously assented, in the hope that such 
 connexions might one day become useful to religion, 
 and be, perhaps, the means intended by God for the 
 accomplishment of his designs. He aided, to the ut- 
 most of his power, the dissemination of knowledge, 
 and the means of instruction ; and when Mr. Shaw 
 was about founding the Boston Athenaeum, he assisted 
 
60 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 him with his counsels and personal exertions, and 
 even gave many books from his own library ; so that 
 he was considered, in that city, as one of the princi- 
 pal friends and most ardent promoters of elegant lit- 
 erature. 
 
 A reputation so brilliant in every respect could 
 not long remain immured within the compass of Bos- 
 ton. Bishop Carroll, of Baltimore, was soon informed 
 of his surpassing talents and virtues ; and thought that 
 a priest of such merit ought not to remain longer an 
 assistant merely, but that he was worthy to be placed 
 at the head of a large church. He consequently 
 wrote to him, and proposed to him to take charge of 
 the church of St. Mary, at Philadelphia. Honor- 
 able as tliis letter was to the character of M. Chev- 
 erus, it afflicted, him deeply. His heart could not 
 endure the thought of leaving his worthy friend, 
 M. Matignon, who had summoned him from England, 
 and was to him as a beloved father. He therefore 
 thanked Bishop Carroll for this mark of his confi- 
 dence, and prayed him to let him remain still longer, 
 and indeed always, with his excellent friend. The 
 Bishop consented, and M. Cheverus, free from all 
 apprehension, devoted himself with new zeal to his 
 holy labors. 
 
 He soon after set out on a visit to the Slate of 
 Maine, about two hundred miles from Boston. He 
 had several times before passed through this region, 
 and groaned in spirit over the condition in which he 
 
VISITS AGAIN THE STATE OF MAINE. 61 
 
 found the good Catholics who resided there. Al- 
 though more numerous than in all the other New 
 England States, except Massachusetts, where they 
 amounted to nearly six hundred, they had neither 
 priest nor place of assembly for religious worship. 
 M. Cheverus, in conjunction with the principal in- 
 habitants of the country, caused a neat and pretty 
 church to be erected at Newcastle, the most cen- 
 tral place in this section of his mission, which he 
 dedicated to St. Patrick, the patron saint of the Irish, 
 and placed over it one of his countrymen, M. Ro- 
 magne, a priest from the neighbourhood of Mayenne. 
 It is impossible to describe the joy of these good 
 Catholics, and the blessings which they henceforth in- 
 voked upon the name of M. Cheverus. From this 
 place he continued his journey, and visited the coun- 
 try of the Penobscot and Passamaquoddy Indians, 
 where dwelt great numbers of savages, wandering 
 through the woods, without fixed habitations, and di- 
 viding their time between fishing and hunting. 
 
 He had at this time swiie little acquaintance v/ith 
 their language ; for want of a better teacher, in order 
 to learn it, he had put himself under the tuition of 
 an old squaw, who possessed a very slight knowl- 
 edge of the English, just sufficient to enable her to 
 explain her own language. By the aid of the ques- 
 tions he addressed to her, she, doubtless for the first 
 time in her life, declined her nouns and conjugated 
 her verbs. M. Cheverus wrote down what she said, 
 6 
 
62 LfFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and studied afterwards in private what she had dic- 
 tated to him. While engaged in these labors, one 
 thing struck him as very singular. He perceived 
 that she made use, in conjugating, of suffix pro- 
 nouns,* like those in the Hebrew language. Being 
 surprised at this, he made her repeat what she had 
 said, questioned her in various ways, and at length 
 felt completely assured of the curious analogy that 
 existed, in this respect, betw^een the Hebrew and the 
 language of these Indians.f 
 
 Having by this means learned something of the 
 language, and being provided with all that was ne- 
 cessary to exercise his ministerial functions, and to 
 celebrate mass, in a country destitute of every thing, 
 like that he was about to visit, he set out, under the 
 
 * Suffix pronouns, in Hebrew, are those which are joined 
 to certain words, so as to form one and the same word. 
 
 f The remark made by M. Cheverus upon the language of 
 these Indians has been made respecting all the American 
 dialects. The languages of the various American nations, 
 whether in the north or the south, whether wholly barbarous or 
 partially civilized, have all this striking analogy, that they form 
 their conjugations by adding syllables which modify the mean- 
 ing and the relations of verbs. From this remarkable uniform- 
 ity, and many other grammatical analogies, the learned have 
 come to the conclusion that all the American dialects are 
 derived from the same language, and, consequently, that all 
 the nations of that hemisphere have sprung from one com- 
 mon stock, from one primitive race, who landed in the 
 country. 
 
HIS FIRST MEETING WITH THE INDIANS. 63 
 
 direction of a guide, on foot, with his staff in his hand, 
 like the first preachers of the gospel. Never before 
 had he undertaken such a journey, and all the cour- 
 age of an apostle was necessary to support one un- 
 der its fatigues and difficulties. A dark forest, no 
 traces of a road, briers and thorns, through which 
 they were sometimes obliged to open themselves a 
 path, and then, after many hours of fatigue, no nour- 
 ishment but the morsel of bread they had carried 
 with them. At night, their only bed some branches 
 of trees spread on the ground, around which large 
 fires must be lighted, in order to keep off serpents 
 and other dangerous animals, that might have come 
 to destroy them during their sleep. They travelled 
 thus for several days, when, one morning (it was Sun- 
 day), they heard many voices singing in harmonious 
 concert at a distance. M. Cheverus listened, then 
 went on, and, to his great astonishment, discovered 
 it to be a well-known chant, the royal mass of Du- 
 mont, with which the great churches and cathedrals 
 of France are wont to ring during their most solemn 
 celebrations. What a delightful surprise, and what 
 tender emotions his heart experienced ! He felt it to 
 be a scene at once affecting and sublime ; for what 
 could be more affecting than to see a people, and 
 that a savage people, who had been destitute of a 
 priest for fifty years, and yet were not the less 
 faithful in celebrating the Lord's day ; and what more 
 sublime than the sacred chants, led by piety alone. 
 
64 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 resounding afar in this immense and majestic forest, 
 repeated by every echo, while they were borne to 
 heaven by every heart ? 
 
 Led on by the joy of finding at last those whom 
 he had sought, M. Cheverus soon joined the reli- 
 gious assembly. They had met in a place called In- 
 dian Old Town, on an island formed by the Penob- 
 scot river, in the midst of the forest. At the sight 
 of the black gown, which they had not looked upon 
 for fifty years, they utter cries of joy and delight, 
 they run to meet him, call him father, and place him 
 on a bear-skin, their seat of honor. M. Cheverus 
 then explained to them the object, and named the 
 probable duration of his visit; he directed their at- 
 tention to the goodness of God, who had not forgot- 
 ten them, and had now sent him to them, to dis- 
 pense his word, to declare his mercy, and to admin- 
 ister the holy sacraments ; and then appointed the 
 place and the hour for them to meet, during the 
 time that he should be among them. After this 
 address, in which the instinct of the savage dis- 
 covered, at once, all the goodness and the charity 
 of a messenger of God, they invited him to share 
 their repast. This was a new trial of the courage 
 and strength of mind of M. Cheverus. Should he 
 refuse, it would give pain to those who offered so 
 freely ; or offend them, if they should suspect his 
 refusal to proceed from haughtiness or contempt ; 
 or give them umbrage, if they attributed it to fas- 
 
HIS MISSIONARY LABORS. 65 
 
 tidiousness of taste, over scrupulous in regard to 
 a neatness with which they could well dispense. 
 And yet how could he accept? Every thing was 
 nauseously filthy and disgusting. M. Cheverus over- 
 came his scruples, swallowed the broth that was 
 prepared, and ate of the meat they presented on 
 the bark of a tree, the only plate of the Indian. 
 But after the repast, he said to them, with that tone 
 of perfect kindness so peculiar to himself, that, if he 
 had thus partaken of their repast, it was for the sake 
 of pleasing them, and to celebrate his happiness in 
 finding himself among them for the first time ; but 
 that hereafter bread would be sufficient for him, and 
 he should need nothing besides. 
 
 Bread was, in fact, almost the only food of 
 M. Cheverus during the time he passed among 
 these tribes. Sometimes, as he has since related, he 
 found a little cheese to eat with his bread, and this 
 he considered quite a feast. Once only, for the 
 space of more than two months, he ate some boiled 
 fish ; and yet his labors were toilsome and constant. 
 Every day he taught, catechized, confessed, or bap- 
 tized; and was also obliged to travel from place to 
 place, sometimes to go to a great distance, to visit 
 the infirm and the sick. Added to all this, the Pas- 
 samaquoddy tribe, which was at a considerable distance 
 from the Penobscot, and consisted of nearly as large 
 a Christian community, demanded equally his care 
 and attention. He passed continually from one tribe 
 6* 
 
66 LIFE OF CAllDKNAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 to the other, diffusing everywhere the blessings of 
 his ministry, and joyfully enduring privations of every 
 kind. But these privations were nothing. He found 
 it far more trying, while hearing the confessions of 
 these savages, to hold his head close to theirs, and, 
 in this situation, to breathe for hours the infected 
 atmosphere exhaled from their bodies, — the disgust- 
 ing result of shocking filthiness and habitual sw^eat ; 
 and, to crown all his sufferings, to find himself in- 
 fested with the most revolting insects, with which 
 their bodies were covered ; the only perquisite, as he 
 said afterwards, in relating this story, that he derived 
 from his ministry. When M, Cheverus first found 
 himself in this condition, he felt faint, and was nearly 
 made sick by it ; and he was obliged to summon to 
 his aid all the energy that faith imparts, to over- 
 come his strong repugnance. 
 
 As a recompense for so many sacrifices, he had 
 the consolation of seeing his ministry blessed. The 
 minds of the people were in the best possible dispo- 
 sition. The Jesuit missionaries, who first planted 
 the faith among these savage tribes, had so thor- 
 oughly instructed them, and trained them so well to 
 the practice of religion and the exercises of worship, 
 that these poor people, even after being left desti- 
 tute for fifty years, had not yet forgotten their cate- 
 chism. The fathers had taught it to their sons, the 
 mothers to their daughters ; and not a Sunday nor 
 a festival was suffered to pass, without being cele- 
 
FINDS CONSOLATION IN THIS MISSION. 67 
 
 brated by that portion of the mass and the service, 
 which the people are allowed to chant. They were 
 all extremely docile, and eager to practise what was 
 taught them. There was not one, even of the chil- 
 dren, who did not say the catechism with devout 
 attention, and the appearance of feeling the words 
 they uttered. Such was the purity of their man- 
 ners, that, a woman having committed a grave and 
 known offence, the whole tribe was in consternation. 
 M, Cheverus believed it was his duty to subject the 
 offender to a public penance, as in the first ages of 
 the church. Accordingly, when he celebrated the 
 holy mysteries, under the branches of a tree dis- 
 posed in the form of a chapel, she remained with- 
 out the entrance, ashamed and penitent, imploring 
 the prayers of the faithful ; and it was not until 
 she had submitted to this trial for some time, that 
 she was allowed to enter the enclosure, and to unite 
 with the others in the celebration of the mass. 
 
 To purity of manners they joined a truly amiable 
 simplicity and uprightness. At the commencement 
 of his ministry among these savage tribes, M. Chev- 
 erus thought he ought to make use of an inter- 
 preter in confession, lest he should be deceived in 
 his judgments, by reason of his yet imperfect ac- 
 quaintance with their language ; and, although this 
 mode of confession, which admits a third party into 
 the secrets of the conscience, was disagreeable, yet 
 these good savages, both men and women, came. 
 
68 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and, with exemplary frankness and simplicity, told 
 their faults to the interpreter, who faithfully trans- 
 mitted them to the confessor, and then repeated to 
 the penitents the questions and advice which the 
 confessor wished to address to them. This inter- 
 preter was an old man, remarkable for his piety and 
 the austerity of his manners; he thought M. Chev- 
 erus ought to treat the sinful more severely, and 
 would sometimes reprove him by saying, " Stop, 
 my father, you are not severe enough ; these people 
 are not eager at prayer; they should perform more 
 penance." 
 
 To describe the veneration that these savages enter- 
 tained for M. Cheverus would be impossible. Wher- 
 ever he went, he was received with demonstrations of 
 the greatest joy, and the wife of the chief, or queen of 
 the tribe, alone had the privilege of waiting on him. 
 Through the power of his gentleness and charity, he 
 was as a sovereign among them, and his least com- 
 mands were promptly executed. Having one day 
 seen a boat loaded with rum approach the shore, 
 and fearing, that, if this liquor should be landed 
 and sold to the savages, they would become intox- 
 icated, and, in consequence, unmanageable, he went 
 to the master of the boat, and, assuming a tone of 
 authority, said to him ; "I am king here ; I am 
 empowered to make the custom-house regulations; 
 you cannot land that liquor." The captain insisted, 
 and was about to discharge the boat on the shore. 
 
KINDNESS OF THE INDIANS TOWARD HIM. 69 
 
 M. Cheverus immediately called some Indians, and 
 ordered them to knock in the heads of the rum- 
 barrels, the moment they touched the shore. They 
 promised a prompt execution of his orders ; but the 
 terrified captain withdrew, and was seen there no 
 more. 
 
 These kind savages esteemed themselves happy, 
 when they could do any thing agreeable to their be- 
 loved missionary. It was an honor much coveted, 
 to serve him as a guide through the immense for- 
 ests he was obliged to traverse, in the exercise of 
 his ministry. Led by the branches of trees, or cer- 
 tain plants, whose direction indicated the cardinal 
 points, they always conducted him safely to the ap- 
 pointed place. One of them carried on his head a 
 birch-bark canoe, for the purpose of crossing the 
 lakes and rivers that came in their way. In these 
 canoes there were but three seats. An Indian was 
 placed at each end, and the missionary in the mid- 
 dle, obliged to remain in a horizontal posture, be- 
 cause the least movement would have overset the 
 frail bark. When it was necessary to ascend a 
 fall or rapid current, or pass a difficult place, the 
 Indians, looking at each other in order to act in 
 concert, exerted themselves with so much address 
 and skill, and so simultaneously, that the obstacle 
 was surmounted in an instant, as if by enchant- 
 ment. One day they were obliged to ascend a 
 very rapid current, where there was much danger ; 
 
70 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 M. Cheverus perceived the peril, and communi- 
 cated it to the rowers. " With you, my father," 
 said one of them, full of faith and trust, " no fear ; 
 but without you, fear." The Indians carried their 
 missionary not only across lakes and rivers, but 
 even, sometimes, quite out to sea. On one occa- 
 sion, M. Cheverus was met and recognised by a 
 captain of a ship, off the coast, who reproached him 
 for his rashness in exposing his life in such a man- 
 ner, in the midst of the waves, on so frail a bark, 
 and offered to take him on board his ship, and 
 convey him to his place of destination. M. Chev- 
 erus refused this obliging offer, for fear of giving 
 pain to his dear Indians, and the next day he 
 arrived safely at the part of his mission that he 
 wished to visit. 
 
 Thanks to religion, which inspires and preserves 
 whatever is honorable and delicate, M. Cheverus 
 found, even among these savages, elevated sentiments, 
 that might put the most civilized people to the blush. 
 He there met with grateful hearts, that gave him 
 numerous proofs of affection, which he often loved 
 to relate ; mothers, tender and affectionate ; children, 
 who carried their filial piety even to heroism ; great 
 and generous souls, that had the most exalted ideas 
 of honor and every duty. He often related anec- 
 dotes, truly wonderful, of this people. We shall give 
 only the following. 
 
 Some English travellers had brought to this coun- 
 
STRIKING ANECDOTE OF A SAVAGE. 71 
 
 try the news of the death of Louis the Sixteenth, 
 who was led to the scaffold by his own subjects, 
 and sacrificed to the revolutionary frenzy, in the 
 presence of sixty thousand of them, who stood im- 
 movable with arms in their hands, without one of 
 them daring to defend him. The Indians could 
 not credit this news. The French missionaries, so 
 mild and so good, who had preached to them, and 
 M. Cheverus himself, in whom all the virtues of 
 their first apostles lived again, had given them the 
 idea, that France contained a people honorable and 
 generous ; and this idea could not be reconciled, 
 in their minds, with the account of the English 
 travellers. One of their chiefs, therefore, sought 
 M. Cheverus, and said to him: *^ Father, we know 
 you do not lie ; tell us, then, the truth. The En- 
 glish tell us that the French have put their king 
 to death ; this is impossible ; it is to make us hate 
 the French, that they broach this falsehood. Tell 
 us how it is." M. Cheverus, greatly embarrassed 
 how to answer this question, thought it would be 
 sufficiently correct to say, it was not the French 
 nation that had put their king to death, but rather 
 some madmen, who had seized upon the govern- 
 ment, and that all France disowned them, with the 
 deep horror and execration that their crime de- 
 served. " Ah ! my father," replied the savage, 
 much moved, " since it is so, I no longer love the 
 French. It was not enough to disclaim this crime ; 
 
72 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 they ought to have thrown themselves between 
 the king and his assassins, and have died rather 
 than suffered his person to be touched. Hold, my 
 father," added he ; ^' it is as if one should come 
 to kill you, while among us, and we should al- 
 low you to be killed. Should we not be guilty ? 
 But mind, we are better than the French ; for we 
 would all be killed to save you." The surprise 
 of M. Cheverus at this reply was inexpressible ; 
 he affectionately pressed the hand of the savage 
 possessed of such noble sentiments, and embraced 
 him with tears in his eyes, which was the only an- 
 swer he could make. 
 
 After having passed three months among these 
 good people, who loved him as a father, and hav- 
 ing promised them that he would visit them every * 
 year, and pass as much time with them, M. Chev- 
 erus returned to Boston. Here, a new opportunity 
 awaited him for the display of his zeal, and for ex- 
 hibiting to the world what a soul inspired by religion 
 can do. The yellow fever was raging in Boston; 
 many had already fallen victims to it. Every imagi- 
 nation was carried away ; each one trembled for fear 
 of being attacked by a disease, which was consid- 
 ered contagious; and, panic prevailing over the sen- 
 timents of nature, as soon as the fever appeared in 
 any place, every one abandoned the house, and the 
 sick person was left on his bed of pain, without 
 assistance and without consolation. In this extrem- 
 
HIS KINDNESS DURING THE YELLOW FEVER. 73 
 
 ity, M. Cheverus did not hesitate to devote himself 
 entirely to the sick, and he was soon seen hastening 
 from house to house, the apostle and attendant of all 
 who were diseased. As soon as he heard of any- 
 one being seized, whether Protestant or Catholic, 
 he hastened to him, like a consoling angel, pressed 
 the hand of the sick person in his own, to evince 
 the extreme interest he took in his condition, and 
 spoke to him in a tone of voice, and with an ex- 
 pression of countenance, that told his tender solicitude. 
 His words tranquillized their minds, and calmed their 
 imaginations, which, under such circumstances, were 
 often more diseased even than their bodies : then, like 
 a tender mother, he nursed them personally, lavished 
 upon them all the attention that could be desired, 
 raising them up, placing them at ease on their beds, 
 or making these himself, and rendering them services 
 the most disgusting to nature, I would say the most 
 humiliating, if chanty did not ennoble every act 
 she inspires. In vain his friends represented to him 
 that he ought not tlius to expose himself; that he 
 was putting in jeopardy a life, which might be so 
 useful to religion and to society. Nothing could 
 arrest him. '• it is not necessary that I should live," 
 he replied, " but it is necessary tiiat the sick should 
 be taken care of, that the dying should be assisted." 
 And during the whole time the fever prevailed, 
 these exercises of charity, as laborious as they were 
 perilous, were not intermitted for a single day. Such 
 7 
 
74 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 was the generous devotedness of which M. Cheverus 
 gave New England an example, not only on this 
 occasion, but whenever that disease appeared again. 
 He was always seen at the post of danger, beside the 
 couch of the sick and the dying. The ministers of 
 the various other sects fled, or, with their families, 
 kept themselves aloof; the Catholic priest was alone 
 among the dead and the dying, himself braving death 
 for his brethren, with a calmness and equanimity 
 which seemed to suspect no danger, as well as with 
 a modesty and a humility which were hardly aware 
 of any sacrifice, in that which all the world admired 
 as the most beautiful example of self-devotion. 
 
 Such noble conduct raised the veneration and at- 
 tachment of the inhabitants of Boston for M. Chev- 
 erus to the highest point. From that time, he was 
 regarded as the apostle of charity, the champion of 
 religion. Wherever he appeared, all delighted to do 
 him honor ; in all assemblies the first place was 
 always for him, and it was offered to him with the 
 more readiness, as his modesty always prompted him 
 to take the lowest ; and he never seemed even to 
 suspect his claims to these testimonies of esteem and 
 honor, for which he thought himself indebted solely to 
 the kindness of his new fellow-citizens. It is still more 
 remarkable, that, at all dinners which politeness re- 
 quired him to attend, and where sometimes thirty 
 ministers of various sects were also present, the 
 master of the house, and the ministers themselves, 
 always invited M. Cheverus, as most entitled to that 
 
HIGH ESTIMATION IN WHICH HE WAS HELD. 75 
 
 distinction, to ask a blessing, which he did with the 
 sign of the cross, and the custonniary prayers of the 
 CathoHc church. Prejudice was silenced by respect 
 for his person, and his prayer was devoutly listened 
 to. When John Adams, President of the United 
 States, visited Boston, M. Cheverus was invited to 
 the magnificent dinner by which the city wished to 
 welcome the chief magistrate of the republic ; and 
 the two highest places were reserved for the Presi- 
 dent and himself. Mr. Adams, struck by this mark 
 of respect paid to a Catholic priest, in a city where, 
 but a few years before, the name alone was a title 
 of scorn, could not avoid, during the repast, making 
 this remark respecting it to M. Cheverus: ''What 
 most astonishes me, on this occasion, is, to see my- 
 self here, and to see you here ; " alluding, by this 
 observation, to the violent opposition, which the city 
 of, Boston had formerly made to his nomination to 
 the presidency."^ 
 
 * Cardinal Cheverus, in relating this story, remarked upon 
 the noble conduct of the inhabitants of Boston. They had 
 been very much opposed to the election of Mr. Adams ; but, 
 when he was once chosen, they viewed him no longer as 
 the man who was disagreeable to them, but as the chief 
 magistrate of the nation, whom it was right and proper to 
 honor; and he was received by them with greater demon- 
 strations of respect than any other president. 
 
 [I give this as I find it in the original ; but whkt the worthy 
 author means by " the violent opposition of the city of Boston 
 to the nomination of John Adams, to the presidency," I am 
 utterly at a loss to conjecture.— TV.] 
 
76 J^IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 M. Cheverus received yet another mark of consid- 
 eration, from the government, which affected him still 
 more sensibly, because it concerned religion and con- 
 science. The legislative assembly, having drawn up 
 the form of the oath, which was to be taken by all 
 the citizens who appeared at the elections, feared 
 that something might be found in it contrary to the 
 freedom of conscience of the Catholics ; and in con- 
 sequence they wrote to M. Cheverus, to consult 
 him on the subject, requesting him to modify the 
 form, if he should find any thing in it contrary to 
 the principles of the Catholic faith, and declaring, 
 that the whole was referred entirely to his judgment. 
 M. Cheverus, flattered by a proceeding as honorable 
 to him as it was to the assembly, who proved by this 
 act how well they understood liberty of conscience, 
 drew up the formula, and carried it himself to the 
 assembly ; it was accepted, and passed into a law. 
 
 Amid this universal respect, M. Cheverus, occu- 
 pied solely with the interests of religion and the 
 church, thought the time had arrived for executing 
 a great project, which he had long meditated. There 
 was as yet in Boston no proper church for the ex- 
 ercises of the Catholic religion ; hitherto, divine wor- 
 ship had been celebrated only in private houses, 
 converted into chapels. It was even impossible any 
 longer to find a place sufficiently large to hold either 
 the Catholics, whose numbers were daily increased 
 by crowds of emigrants, arriving from all countries ; 
 
OPENS A SUBSCRIPTION FOR BUILDING A CHURCH. 77 
 
 or the Protestants themselves, who were desirous of 
 hearing the sermons, and witnessing the touching 
 ceremonies of the Romish church. M. Cheverus, 
 therefore, opened a subscription for the purpose of 
 erecting a CathoHc church in. Boston. The first 
 subscriber was John Adams, the President of the 
 United States; who wished thus to manifest to 
 M. Cheverus the attachment he felt for him, and 
 the interest he took in whatever could give him 
 pleasure. This conspicuous example, on the part 
 of the Protestant chief magistrate of a nation al- 
 most wholly Protestant, could not but find imita- 
 tors ; and, in fact, the subscription-list was soon 
 filled with the most honorable names, Protestant as 
 well as Catholic. Men were everywhere eager to 
 subscribe liberally to the project. M. Cheverus im- 
 mediately consulted with some architects upon the 
 plan of a church, conformable to the amount he ex- 
 pected to realize. Each gave his opinion on the 
 subject ; the artists wished to have it a large, elegant, 
 and majestic edifice ; M. Cheverus, to give it the 
 grave, austere, and religious character, which he con- 
 sidered the most fitting ; and to dispose all its parts 
 with reference to the convenient celebration of divine 
 worship, or the better accommodation of the priests 
 and the faithful worshippers. After mature reflection, 
 the plan was fixed upon ; but M. Cheverus did not 
 push on the work with that haste which makes no cal- 
 culation, nor that imprudent rashness which proceeds 
 7* 
 
78 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 without reflection. He began immediately, and laid the 
 foundations of the church, and raised the walls, as far 
 as the money in his hands enabled him to go. These 
 funds being exhausted, he stopped the work, and for- 
 bade a single stone to be laid, until new resources 
 should be obtained. It was to no purpose, that offers 
 of credit were made, and that he was importunately 
 urged to permit the building to proceed, with assurances 
 that payment might be made at his own pleasure ; 
 he never would consent to it. Such a course was 
 repugnant to his delicacy. " The funds," said he, 
 " depend on the generosity of others, and, as I can- 
 not be answerable for them, I will not expose any 
 one to loss." The labors were therefore entirely 
 suspended ; and, even until the completion of the 
 edifice, he would never suffer them to proceed, ex- 
 cept as the funds in his possession enabled him to 
 defray the expense. So much was he governed by 
 the principle, dictated alike by equity and wisdom, 
 of never contracting imprudent debts. 
 
 While the church was building in Boston, the an- 
 cient churches of France were re-opened for the Cath- 
 olic worship ; and religion, triumphing over the impo- 
 tent efforts of the numerous enemies who had sworn 
 its destruction, arose from its ruins. Pius the Seventh 
 had just concluded with Bonaparte the compact of 
 1801 ; and, by virtue of this treaty, the French 
 bishops and priests, who had been so long banished, 
 returned to their homes, re-established the worship 
 
HIS RELATIONS URGE HIM TO RETURN TO FRANCE. 79 
 
 that had been aboUshed, and experienced the double 
 happiness of again beholding their own country, and 
 exercising their ministry there in peace. The family 
 and friends of M. Cheverus, afflicted at not seeing 
 him return with the other exiles, wrote to him, ear- 
 nestly requesting his immediate return. The letter 
 was most urgent ; the reasons given most powerful. 
 Why, then, delay his return ? His country opened 
 her gates to him ; Mayenne awaited her pastor ; that 
 widowed and desolate church sighed for his coming. 
 His heart was next appealed to ; his love for his re- 
 lations, who were inconsolable at his absence ; for his 
 friends, who were impatient to see him once more ; 
 for France, which had the first claim upon his servi- 
 ces. The anxiety that this letter gave M. Cheverus 
 cannot be described. His affectionate heart seemed 
 rent in two. On the one hand, his love of coun- 
 try urged him strenuously ; he should have such 
 delight in again seeing beautiful France, his family, 
 and his friends ! He represented to himself all his 
 brethren in exile, returning with joy to their native 
 soil, and embracing, with tears of affection, their 
 relatives and friends. And why should not he, also, 
 return to it? He could there serve the cause of 
 religion ; the success, he had obtained in times of 
 difficulty, was to him a pledge of still happier re- 
 sults in days of tranquillity. But, on the other hand, 
 how could he leave his beloved Catholics, who were 
 
80 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 SO devoted to him ; the infant church, which had so 
 much need of him ; or even his many excellent and 
 generous friends of a different faith, to whom he 
 might perhaps be useful ? How, especially, could he 
 desert the Abbe Matignon, his father, his tender 
 friend, the half of his own soul ? How overwhelm 
 and afflict him, and perhaps cause him to die with 
 grief for his departure ? 
 
 While M. Cheverus was thus fluctuating and ir- 
 resolute, impelled by his affections, at the same time, 
 to return to France and to remain in America, he 
 received, on the 9th of April, 1803, a letter from 
 Bishop Carroll, of Baltimore, who, being apprized 
 of the danger he incurred of losing so worthy a 
 fellow-laborer, hastened to write him, and conjure 
 him not to desert his post. This prelate, a man 
 of a superior mind, and a virtue worthy of the first 
 ages of the church, detailed to him, with great force, 
 all the reasons for remaining, and ended by declaring 
 to him that he was convinced that such was the will 
 of God. M. Cheverus, whose humility was such that 
 he preferred rather to follow the advice of others 
 than his own opinion, and to be guided by the spirit 
 of obedience, in preference to his own will, had no 
 sooner read this letter than all his doubts vanished. 
 He thought he discerned in it the order of Provi- 
 dence, and that was sufficient for his faith. Di- 
 rectly he made a sacrifice to God of his country, 
 and of all the warm affections that summoned him 
 
COMPLETION AND CONSECRATION OF THE CHURCH. 81 
 
 back to it. The Sunday after Easter, he announced 
 to his flock that his part was taken ; that he should 
 remain with them, and share their good or evil 
 fortune ; that they would supply to him the place 
 of all his relations and friends in France, whom he 
 relinquished for their sake. The joy of the Catho- 
 lics, and of all the inhabitants of Boston, at this 
 news, may be better imagined than described. The 
 fear of losing him had spread consternation among 
 them all, and they were beside themselves with joy, 
 when assured that he would remain with them. 
 That they might give him a signal testimony of 
 their gratitude, they made renewed and greater sac- 
 rifices for the completion of the church, commenced 
 so long before. 
 
 By these means, the building of the church went on 
 rapidly, and, four months after, M. Cheverus had the 
 satisfaction of seeing this great edifice completed, and 
 of planting the cross on its summit. He immediate- 
 ly induced the Abbe Matignon to write to -Bishop 
 Carroll, and inform him of this welcome intelligence, 
 inviting him to come to Boston, and consecrate the 
 new temple to the Lord, on the 29th of September, 
 St. Michael's Day. Bishop Carroll felt no incli- 
 nation to refuse. The dedication of the first Cath- 
 olic church in a city like Boston was an event of 
 the deepest interest to the faith; besides, he antici- 
 pated with pleasure the happy days he should pass, 
 in company with two ecclesiastics so distinguished 
 
82 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 as the Abbe Maiignon and M. Cheverus. He ac- 
 cordingly reached Boston before the day appointed ; 
 and, on the 29th of September, 1803, he dedicated 
 the new church, under the name of the Church of 
 the Holy Cross. Nothing could be more magnifi- 
 cent than this ceremony. The church was adorned 
 with drapery and garlands, arranged with taste ; the 
 altar, embellished with rich ornaments, and surrounded 
 by clergymen, whose devout and becoming demeanor 
 was a still more precious ornament. The crowd was 
 immense ; Protestants, Catholics, all wished to wit- 
 ness the ceremony ; and, finally, M. Cheverus, by the 
 discourse he pronounced on this occasion, gave the 
 finishing stroke to the beauty of the celebration. 
 Inspired, doubtless, by the occasion, by the pres- 
 ence of the first pastor of his church in America, 
 and by the great concourse of people present, he 
 spoke with a fervor of soul, an energy of thought 
 and expression, that moved the whole audience. 
 Bishop Carroll himself could not restrain his emo- 
 tion ; and, as the orator descended from the pulpit, 
 he fell on his neck, shed tears of joy, and blessed 
 Heaven for having given to the church in Boston 
 so powerful a minister of the Word. On the eve- 
 ning of this celebration, M. Cheverus had the ex- 
 terior of the church illuminated, with all possible 
 magnificence, and with that exquisite taste he so 
 eminently possessed. The whole front was resplen- 
 dent with light; and the richly gilded cross, which 
 
SERVICES AND PREACHING IN THE NEW CHURCH. 83 
 
 surmounted the edifice, sparkling with a thousand 
 lamps, seemed from that day to assert its sway- 
 over Boston, and to plant there its empire. All 
 the inhabitants, without distinction, rejoiced in the 
 beauty of the spectacle, complimented M. Cheverus, 
 and seemed to share his happiness. As he witnessed 
 this affecting scene. Bishop Carroll mentally com- 
 pared what he now beheld with the state of re- 
 ligion in Boston when M. Cheverus arrived there, 
 and he was at a loss for words to express his sat- 
 isfaction and surprise. 
 
 This church, being once consecrated, became the 
 theatre of the most ardent and indefatigable zeal to 
 M. Cheverus ; he caused every part of it to be 
 ornamented, and provided it with linen and holy 
 vessels, with appropriate ornaments, and even with 
 an organ. All the services were performed there, 
 with a propriety and majesty, which attracted a crowd 
 of people, generally as numerous as the dimensions 
 of the- building would allow ; and every Sunday, or 
 holyday, he had the consolation of communicating 
 the holy word to this multitude of auditors, among 
 whom there were always a great many Protestants. 
 To this mode of instruction he attached the great- 
 est importance ; regarding it as the essential and most 
 important means of bringing back his erring brethren 
 to the true faith, and of confirming the Catholics in 
 it. Moreover, that these latter might never absent 
 themselves, on Sundays and holydays, no other pub- 
 
84 J-IFB OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 lie mass was performed except high mass, which was 
 accompanied by a sermon. The other masses were 
 said in private, the church being closed, and no one 
 could be present at them except by special permis- 
 sion, which could only be obtained by proving the 
 impossibility of attending high mass, or by promising 
 to come to it. 
 
 While M. Cheverus was devoting himself to these 
 useful and consolatory labors, he received a letter 
 from the prison in Northampton, which called him 
 to the most painful of all ecclesiastical functions. 
 Two young Irish Catholics confined there, although 
 innocent,* had just been condemned to death ; the 
 victims of that erring judgment to which human 
 weakness is so liable, but still more of the ignorance 
 of their lawyer, and an unfortunate concurrence of 
 circumstances which seemed to prove their guilt. 
 Resigned to the sentence passed upon them, and 
 thinking only of preparing their souls for the awful 
 passage to eternity, they wrote to M. Cheverus,- to ask 
 the consolations of his ministry on this trying occasion. 
 Their letter, which was found among the papers of 
 the Cardinal, although it shows them to have been 
 uneducated men, proclaims them Christians full of 
 faith. " We adore," say they, " in the judgment of 
 
 * [There is no reason to suppose this was the case. — See 
 the " Trial of Dominic Dayly and James Hallagen, for the 
 Murder of Marcus Lyon." If there had been a want of skill 
 in their advocate, it was the duty of the court to protect them. 
 — Tr.] 
 
HE ATTENDS TWO COiNVICTS 85 
 
 men, liable to be deceived, the decrees of Providence. 
 If v^^e are not guilty of the crime imputed to us, we 
 have committed other sins, and, to expiate them, we 
 accept death with resignation. We are solicitous only 
 about our salvation ; it is in your hands; come to our 
 assistance." As it was then the custom in the United 
 States to conduct convicts to church to hear a fu- 
 neral discourse, immediately before their execution, 
 they addressed, some days after, a second letter to 
 M. Cheverus, praying him to deliver this discourse. 
 " It will be a painful task for you," said they to him, 
 " after the fatigue of a long journey, and especially 
 after the sad impressions made on your heart by the 
 sight of two young men about to die, in the bloom 
 of youth ; but you will not refuse us this favor, and 
 reduce us to the necessity of listening, just before 
 we die, to the voice of one who is not a Catholic." 
 However painful this twofold duty might be to the 
 feeling heart of M. Cheverus, he did not hesitate to 
 undertake it, and promptly acceded to the request of 
 these unfortunate men. Hatred to the Catholic re- 
 ligion was carried to such an extreme in Northamp- 
 ton, that it was with the greatest difficulty he could 
 find lodgings ; no one would receive him. He passed 
 many days in the prison with the unhappy convicts ; 
 he compassionated their condition, and persuaded 
 them to look on death, in the light of the gospel, 
 as an entrance upon a better life, and the gale of true 
 happiness. These instructions, and the sacraments 
 8 
 
86 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 which he administered to them, inspired them with 
 such holy dispositions of soul, that the last moments 
 of life lost, in their view, all the terrors with which 
 they affright unassisted nature ; and they looked on the 
 approach of death not only without distress, but with 
 calmness, serenity, and celestial joy. M. Cheverus 
 alone was overcome with grief, his heart oppressed 
 with pity ; and those, whom he had come to console, 
 became themselves his comforters. " Oh, my father ! " 
 said they to him, " how we pity you ! Moderate 
 your grief, or it will make you ill." At length the 
 fatal day arrived ; and, as this day seemed to these 
 men, so full of faith, like the dawn of a festal day, 
 they wished, at the time of their execution, to ap- 
 pear clean and decent, and asked for a razor to shave 
 themselves. It was, at first, refused them ; but, upon 
 M. Cheverus's pledging his word that they should not 
 attempt their Hves, their request was granted. At 
 the hour appointed, M. Cheverus went with them, 
 and all the funeral train, to the church. There, the 
 Protestant ministers wished to pronounce the usual 
 discourse ; but M. Cheverus opposed this with force 
 and energy. " The will of the dying," he said to 
 them, "is sacred ; they have desired to have no one 
 but myself, and 1 alone will speak to them." He 
 immediately ascended the pulpit, and, casting his 
 eyes upon the immense crowd that surrounded him, 
 and beholding a great multitude of women, who had 
 come from every direction to be present at the execu- 
 
HIS DISCOURSE BEFORE THE EXECUTION. 87 
 
 tion, he felt himself animated with holy indigna- 
 tion against the curiosity which had attracted to that 
 mournful scene such a crowd of spectators. " Ora- 
 tors," cried he, in a loud and stern voice, "are 
 usually flattered by having a numerous audience, but 
 I am ashamed of the one now before me. . . . Are 
 there, then, men to whom the death of their fellow- 
 beings is a spectacle of pleasure, an object of curi- 
 osity ! . . . But you, especially, O women ! what has 
 induced you to come to this place ? Is it to wipe 
 away the cold damps of death that trickle down the 
 faces of these unfortunate men ? Is it to experience 
 the painful emotions which this scene ought to in- 
 spire in every feeling heart ? No, it is not for this. 
 It is, then, to behold their anguish, and to look upon 
 it with tearless, eager, and longing eyes. Ah ! I 
 blush for you ; your eyes are full of murder. . . . 
 You boast of possessing sensibility, and you say it 
 is the highest virtue in woman ; but if the sufferings 
 of others afford you pleasure, and the death of a 
 man is an inviting entertainment for your curiosity, 
 I can no longer believe in your virtue. You forget 
 your sex, you are a dishonor and reproach to it." 
 The execution took place immediately after this dis- 
 course, but not a woman dared to appear at it ; all 
 retired from the church ashamed of themselves, and 
 blushing for the inhuman curiosity that had brought 
 them there. 
 
 The Protestants in this region, being much interested 
 
bo LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 in the discourse of M. Cheverus, wished to hear him 
 again ; and he yielded to their wishes. He preached 
 several times in public 5 he conversed with them in 
 private, and took advantage of every opportunity to 
 remove their prejudices against the Catholic religion, 
 and to show them how reasonable were its doctrines, 
 and how holy, pure, and lovely was its morality. 
 Many among them, struck by the touching spectacle 
 presented by the two Irishmen recently executed, 
 and thinking it incredible that guilty men should 
 possess such a modest and calm assurance in the 
 presence of death, begged M. Cheverus to tell 
 them, as in confession he had acquired a more 
 perfect knowledge of the facts, whether these two 
 young men were really innocent. M. Cheverus 
 promised to give, in his next discourse, the only re- 
 ply it was possible for him to make to this question ; 
 and, in fact, happy in the opportunity of speaking in 
 defence of Catholic truth, before a large concourse 
 of hearers whom curiosity had collected, he devel- 
 oped, with force and clearness, the doctrine of the 
 church respecting confession ; spoke of its divine in- 
 stitution, its important advantages, and the inviolable 
 secrecy imposed upon the confessor, which he can- 
 not break even to save a kingdom. The Protest- 
 ants were so much pleased with this discourse of 
 M. Cheverus, and with the interesting character of 
 his private conversations, that they wished him to 
 remain with them ; and he found almost as much 
 
CONVERTS MADAM SETON TO THE CATHOLIC FAITH. 89 
 
 difficulty in parting from them, as he had in pro- 
 curing a shelter on his first arrival. 
 
 Scarcely had he reached Boston, before he was 
 called to a neighbouring State, to labor for the con- 
 version of a soul of a high order, designed by 
 Heaven for great purposes. Madam Seton, an il- 
 lustrious lady, educated in the Protestant faith, dis- 
 tinguished by her birth and fortune, but still more 
 by her energy of mind and rectitude of heart, was then 
 in Philadelphia, seeking the truth with entire sin- 
 cerity of soul, but not finding in her own religion 
 the calmness of conviction, or peace of mind. Influ- 
 enced by the high reputation of M. Cheverus, she 
 felt a great desire to confer with him ; but, as she 
 could not take the journey to Boston, he was re- 
 quested to come himself to visit her, whose soul was 
 seeking, with such purity of purpose, admission into 
 the fold. Had he followed only the impulse of his 
 zeal, he would have set oflT immediately ; but his 
 delicacy forbade this step. He thought it would be a 
 want of respect to the clergy of Philadelphia, and 
 seem like thrusting his sickle into their harvest, to 
 go and volunteer to give lessons in the Catholic 
 faith in that city. He sent word, therefore, to 
 Madam Seton, that it was impossible for him to 
 come and converse with her ; but, if she wished to 
 discuss the subject by letter, he should esteem him- 
 self happy to give her all the explanations she could 
 wish. Madam Seton decided to adopt this plan, and 
 8* 
 
90 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 disclosed her doubts and difficulties in a number of 
 well written letters, which exhibited the elegance of 
 her mind and the uprightness of her heart. M. Chev- 
 erus replied without delay, and explained each dif- 
 ficulty with such clearness, precision, and strength of 
 argument, that it was impossible not to feel the 
 force of his reasoning. At the same time, convinced 
 that faith is the gift of grace, that it is not in the 
 power of man to obtain it for himself, or communi- 
 cate it to others, he prayed earnestly and said mass 
 for the success of so momentous an affair. Madam 
 Seton, on reading these letters, felt as if a ray of 
 light had descended from heaven to dissipate the 
 darkness of her mind ; all her doubts vanished ; and 
 the Catholic religion revealed itself to her, under the 
 pen of M. Cheverus, as wholly pure and altogether 
 fair. But her ardent soul was not satisfied, in chans- 
 ing her religion, merely to profess the Catholic faith ; 
 she desired also to aspire to all which that faith enjoins 
 as most sublime and perfect ; she wished to devote 
 herself without reserve ; she felt within herself the 
 strength to forsake all, to sacrifice all, and even to 
 bind herself, by the most solemn vows, to whatever 
 her spiritual guide should declare to be most pleas- 
 ing to God, and most conducive to her own salva- 
 tion. She therefore wrote again to M. Cheverus, 
 opened to him her whole sou], laid before him all 
 her plans, and again asked his advice. He, with a 
 prayerful heart, had awaited the effect of his words 
 
HOUSE OF THE SISTERS OP CHARITY FOUNDED. 91 
 
 upon her, and received this last letter with joy. 
 He answered it by congratulating her on her gen- 
 erous resolution, gave her the advice she solicited, 
 and added, that, since God had inspired her with 
 courage to aim at the highest religious perfection, he 
 advised her to become a Sister of Charity, that she 
 might instruct the ignorant, attend upon the sick, 
 and assist the poor. This exalted religious order did 
 not indeed, he said, then exist in North America ; but 
 that it was an act worthy of her to establish it there, 
 and be its first founder. Madam Seton looked 
 upon this letter as revealing the will of Heaven, and 
 immediately, having arranged her temporal concerns, 
 abandoned the world and the brilliant position she 
 occupied in it, and went to assume the humble garb 
 of a Sister of Charity, at Emmitsburg, in Maryland. 
 Here, under the direction of the priests belonging to 
 the Society of Saint Sulpicius, who had a college 
 there, she established a hospital for the sick, a 
 school for the poor, associated with herself other 
 pious women, and thus became the founder of the 
 first house of Charity in the United States. In her 
 new situation, she kept up by letters her intercourse 
 with M. Cheverus ; he was her guiding genius, and 
 she entertained the highest veneration for him. One 
 may form some idea of this, by the impression made 
 upon her at their first meeting, which took place 
 many years after her conversion. M. Cheverus, be- 
 ing at Emmitsburg, went to the new hospital, which 
 
LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 was indebted to him for its foundation, and asked 
 for the Superior. Madam Seton came forward. '*I 
 am the Abbe Cheverus," said he. On hearing these 
 words, struck as if by the vision of an angel, she 
 fell upon her knees, seized his hands, bedewed them 
 with her tears, and remained in this position more 
 than five minutes, without the power of articulating a 
 word, being filled with such deep feelings of respect. 
 While M. Cheverus was thus engaged in every good 
 work which his zeal found to do. Providence, unknown 
 to him, was preparing for him the honors of the epis- 
 copal office, in the following manner. M. Carroll, 
 Bishop of Baltimore, wholly engrossed in promoting 
 the progress of the Catholic religion in the United 
 States, had thought it might be expedient to estab- 
 lish four new bishoprics there, one of which should 
 be in Boston, and extend its jurisdiction over New 
 England. With these views, he had fixed on M. Mati- 
 gnon as Bishop of that city; thinking, that, on account 
 of his age, his learning, and his reputation as late 
 doctor and professor of the Sorbonne, this venerable 
 man had claims upon the office prior to those of 
 M. Cheverus, who was still young, and only his cu- 
 rate. Just as he was about to send his petition to 
 Rome, M. Matignon was informed of his intentions 
 in regard to himself. Troubled and alarmed at this 
 news, the modest and venerable Abbe hastened to 
 remonstrate forthwith, to declare a formal refusal, and 
 propose, in his stead, his worthy friend M. Cheverus. 
 
APPOINTED BISHOP OF BOSTOxN. 93 
 
 Bishop Carroll, who was perfectly well acquainted 
 with the deserts of the vicar of Boston, was easily 
 persuaded, and wrote to Rome to that effect. The 
 request was favorably received ; and, on the 8th of 
 April, 1808, Pius the Seventh issued his brief, which 
 erected Baltimore into an archbishopric, and estab- 
 lished four suffragan bishoprics, Boston, Philadelphia, 
 New York, and Bardstown in Kentucky ; and the 
 same day, he appointed M. Cheverus to the first 
 bishopric ; Father Egan, a Franciscan, to the second ; 
 Father Concannen, a Dominican, to the third ; and, 
 finally, M. Flaget, a priest of the fraternity of St. Sul- 
 picius, to the last. 
 
 When the news of these proceedings reached Bos- 
 ton, M. Cheverus was as much grieved as surprised. 
 His modesty was pained, when he found himself pro- 
 moted to honor; and his kind heart still more so at 
 the idea of being placed above M. Matignon, who 
 was his senior, and whom he honored as a father. 
 This event was the more trying, as he was wholly 
 unprepared for it ; since, the opposition he would 
 have made to the measure, if he had known any 
 thing about it in season, being well understood, he 
 had been kept entirely ignorant of it. For several 
 days he was inconsolable ; and complained bitterly to 
 Bishop Carroll, saying that this was not what he 
 had expected from his kindness ; that the office of 
 bishop, especially in America, was so weighty a bur- 
 den, that it ought not to have been imposed on him 
 
94 I-IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 without giving him notice of it, or, at least, ascer- 
 taining his views in regard to it. But the step had 
 been taken, and could not be retraced ; he must sub- 
 mit to it. M. Matignon, who rejoiced in the promo- 
 tion of M. Cheverus as a father would do in that 
 of a son, wished from that time to do him honor 
 as Bishop elect of Boston, and, as such, to give 
 him precedence, both in the house and the church. 
 M. Cheverus would never consent to any thing of 
 the kind ; he refused all distinction ; and, during the 
 two years that the papal bulls were delayed, in con- 
 sequence of the troubles which then agitated Italy, 
 and the death of Father Concannen, who was the 
 bearer of them, he remained still second, still the 
 simple vicar of M. Matignon, whom he honored, on 
 all occasions, as his master and his guide. 
 
 The bulls having at length arrived, he went to 
 the Seminary in Baltimore, to prepare himself for his 
 consecration by private exercises of devotion. These 
 he performed under the direction of M. Nagot, the 
 Superior of the establishment, an old man venerable 
 for his angelic virtue, his amiable simplicity, and his 
 deep humility. On All Saints Day, 1810, he was 
 consecrated in the cathedral church of Baltimore, 
 by Bishop Carroll, assisted by M. Neale, Bishop of 
 Gortyna, his colleague, and by M. Egan, Bishop of 
 Philadelphia. On the 4th of the following No- 
 vember, the Feast of St. Charles, he preached in 
 the same cathedral, at the consecration of M. Flaget, 
 
REGULATIONS OF THE BISHOPS. 95 
 
 appointed first Bishop of Bardstown. His discourse 
 was a very remarkable one, and was solicited in all 
 quarters for the press, but his modesty could not 
 be prevailed upon to give it. In this discourse, he 
 saluted Bishop Carroll as the Elias of the new dis- 
 pensation, the father of the clergy, the guide of the 
 chariot of Israel in the new world; ^^ Pater mi. 
 Pater mi, currus Israel et auriga ejus;''* he be- 
 stowed great praise on the fraternity of Saint Sul- 
 picius, to which M. Flaget belonged, quoting, in ref- 
 erence to it, the eulogiums bestowed upon it at 
 various periods by the clergy of France in their as- 
 semblies, and the words of Fenelon, who said on his 
 death-bed, in that houTj when there is no flattery, " I 
 know nothing more venerable and more apostolical 
 than Saint Sulpicius." 
 
 After these interesting ceremonies, the five bishops, 
 taking advantage of the circumstance of their being 
 together, agreed upon certain regulations relative to 
 the administration of their churches. The following 
 have appeared to us the most worthy of notice. 
 1st. Poor, as they are, in members of the ecclesiastical 
 profession, the bishops declare, that they will with 
 pleasure allow the subjects of their diocese to form 
 regular or secular fraternities, when they shall feel 
 themselves called so to do. 2ndly. They prohibit the 
 insertion, in the prayer-books, of any other transla- 
 tion of the Holy Scriptures, than that which is called 
 
 * [2 Kings, ii. 12.] 
 
96 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 the Douai Bible. 3dly. They will permit the pray- 
 ers, which precede and follow the particular form 
 used in the administration of the sacrament, to be 
 said in the vulgar tongue, except the mass, which 
 must always be performed entirely in Latin ; but 
 they prohibit the use of any other version for this pur- 
 pose, except that which shall be approved of by all the 
 bishops of the district. 4thly. They will not permit 
 of the taking of the vow of perpetual chastity, out of 
 the pale of approved religious societies. 5thly. They 
 earnestly pray all shepherds of souls to combat without 
 ceasing, in public and private conferences, the incli- 
 nation for amusements dangerous to morals, such as 
 dancing, the theatre, &£c. ; and they strictly forbid the 
 reading of books calculated to corrupt the faith or 
 manners, particularly romances. 6thly. They forbid 
 all priests to admit to the sacrament those whom 
 they know to belong to the society of Free-masons ; 
 at least until they have obtained a promise from them, 
 that they will not again attend the meetings of the 
 lodges, and will publicly profess that they have dis- 
 solved all connexion with that society. 
 
 These regulations having been agreed upon. 
 Bishop Cheverus set off immediately for Boston, as 
 humble as he was before, or, rather, much more 
 humble ; for, according to his own expression, he felt 
 ashamed of and embarrassed by a dignity for which 
 he felt himself so httle qualified. Again in Boston, 
 there was no change in his relations with M. Ma- 
 
UNOSTENTATIOUS LIFE OF THE NEW BISHOP. 97 
 
 tignon, unless it were, that, forced to take the first 
 place, he endeavoured to make up for it by re- 
 doubling his cares and attentions to his worthy- 
 friend. In his ordinary conduct, too, he was still 
 the same ; it was as modest, as simple, as be- 
 fore. He had but one small room, and, in showing 
 it to strangers who came to visit him, he used to 
 say, with a pleasant smile : " You see here the Epis- 
 copal palace ; it is open to everybody." Of furni- 
 ture, he had no more than was strictly necessary, 
 and even that the least luxurious and most simple 
 possible. His chairs were of the most common ma- 
 terial and form, and often there were not enough 
 of these to accommodate his visiters ; and then his 
 bed, which consisted only of some boards, raised a 
 little above the floor and covered with a thin mattress, 
 was used to supply the deficiency. Some one once 
 proposed to give him some rich and elegant chairs. 
 " No," said he, " they would form a contrast with 
 the rest of the furniture ; it is better it should all be 
 in keeping." Yet, although every thing was poor 
 in his abode, every thing was neat ; though all was 
 simple, yet all was decent. His table, always frugal, 
 was more or less poorly supplied according to his 
 resources, which consisted wholly of voluntary con- 
 tributions from his flock. Nevertheless, he always 
 admitted to it whoever happened to come ; and the 
 pleasure of enjoying his society, or sometimes even 
 9 
 
98 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 the wish to make sure that he had what was ne- 
 cessary, brought guests to it every day. Every 
 Sunday and holyday, he invited to his table the 
 Cathohcs who Hved at too great a distance from 
 the church to return home to dine ; and, however 
 numerous they might be, he gave them all a dinner, 
 with an air of cordiality which delighted them. He 
 was the kind father of a family, his face radiant with 
 joy, in the midst of his assembled children. In ol- 
 der to meet all this expense, the Bishop of Boston 
 denied himself, I will not say elegances and luxu- 
 ries, for he never had an idea of procuring these, 
 but even what would seem to be the common ne- 
 cessaries of life. He was economical in every thing, 
 except in alms-giving, and incurred no expense that 
 he could possibly avoid. He split his firewood him- 
 self; his apparel was always very simple, but yet in 
 accordance with his office. This last point the Cath- 
 olics insisted upon, representing to him that their 
 honor required that he should not give occasion to the 
 other sects to tliink they suffered their Bishop to 
 want the necessaries of life ; that, therefore, he ought 
 not to consult that love of simplicity and poverty 
 which was in his heart ; but, that, from regard to them 
 and for the honor of the Catholic religion, his dress 
 and appearance should always be suitable to his po- 
 sition in society. 
 
 The life of Bishop Cheverus was the hfe of a 
 missionary, as well abroad as at home. Although he 
 
HIS APOSTOLICAL LIFE. 99 
 
 was Bishop, he continued, as before, to perform the 
 humblest duties ; he confessed, catechized, visited the 
 poor and the sick ; went alone, on foot, at all hours 
 of the day and night, and at all seasons, many miles, 
 to carry the offerings of his charity, or the consola- 
 tions of his ministry. Every year, he passed three 
 months among his beloved Penobscot and Passama- 
 quoddy tribes, agreeably to the promise he made 
 them on his first visit, which we have already de- 
 scribed. Before he was made Bishop, he had not 
 failed to keep his word every year ; and afterwards 
 he felt himself only the more obliged to perform this 
 arduous apostolical duty. In Boston, he was never 
 seen in gay circles, or parties of pleasure ; he was 
 wholly and constantly devoted to his duties ; dividing 
 his time between prayer, study, his ministry, and 
 works of charity, which were sometimes of a very 
 painful nature. He considered himself as the father 
 of all his flock ; and his tenderness spared no effort, 
 when he could be useful to them. A poor sailor, at 
 one time, before departing on a long voyage, recom- 
 mended his wife, whom he left alone and unaided, 
 to his care. Bishop Cheverus took the same care 
 of her that he would have done of a sister; and, 
 this poor woman being taken sick, he became her 
 nurse, and rendered her even the meanest services. 
 After several months' absence, the sailor returned ; and 
 found, on entering his dwelling, the Bishop of Boston 
 ascending the stairs to the chamber of the poor sick 
 
100 LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 woman, with his arms full of wood, to make her a 
 fire and prepare the comforts her situation required. 
 Struck with admiration at the sight of so much be- 
 nevolence, the sailor fell at the feet of the Bishop, 
 bedewed them with his tears, and was unable to 
 express his gratitude. Bishop Cheverus raised him 
 up, embraced him, calmed his emotion, and spoke 
 encouragingly to him about the sickness of his wife. 
 
 Antiquity offers us nothing more touching, of the 
 kind, than the love of the Catholics in Boston for their 
 Bishop. As the believers at Antioch gave their chil- 
 dren the name of St. Meletius, their bishop, so most 
 Catholic parents desired that their children might re- 
 ceive at their baptism the name of John^ because 
 that was the name of Bishop Cheverus. One day, 
 a very amusing circumstance, connected with this feel- 
 ing, occurred. The Bishop having, as usual, asked 
 the godfather and godmother, " What name will you 
 give this child ? " they replied : " John Bishop Chev- 
 erus." " Poor child," rejoined he, " God forbid that 
 you should ever become a Bishop ! " 
 
 It was not alone among the Catholics, that the apos- 
 tolical life of Bishop Cheverus conciliated general 
 esteem and affection ; even among the ministers of 
 different sects, these sentiments were so profound that 
 they sometimes invited him to preach in their churches. 
 The Bishop of Boston, calling to mind that St. Paul 
 preached in the synagogues, as well as in Christian 
 
PREACHES IN THE PROTESTANT CHURCHES. 101 
 
 assemblies, thankfully accepted these invitations, and 
 always chose for the subject of his discourse some 
 doctrine of the Catholic church. But he treated it with 
 so much judgment, moderation, and propriety, that, far 
 from his offending any one, his audience were always 
 satisfied ; some were convinced, others were shaken 
 in their belief, and all had, at least, some of their 
 prejudices removed. This information is derived, 
 partly at least, from a Protestant journal, which, in 
 giving some account of a sermon preached by Bishop 
 Cheverus in a Presbyterian church, says: "It is 
 certain that his discourses are well calculated to re- 
 move prejudices against the Catholics ; and the mod- 
 eration, and even affection, with which he speaks of 
 men of a different belief from his own, forms a strik- 
 ing contrast to the violent and angry language that 
 sometimes dishonors Protestant pulpits." Such was, 
 in fact, the method adopted by Bishop Cheverus. 
 Although addressing men of a different faith, none but 
 words of affection and kindness fell from his lips, as 
 no feelings but those of charity and benevolence found 
 place in his heart. In his air, his voice, in every 
 accent, his audience felt that it was a friend who 
 spoke to them ; and a friend not only sincere, but 
 tender and devoted, and who wished their best good ; 
 and this disposition on his part rendered what he said 
 interesting, and opened him an avenue to every heart. 
 In the course of discussion, he endeavoured to say 
 nothing that could wound ; to let no reproach or 
 9* 
 
102 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 invective against his adversaries escape him ; nor did 
 he assume an air of triumph over the weakness of 
 their arguments, or the futihty of their systems. On 
 the contrary, he praised whatever he discovered good 
 or estimable in them ; commending, in some, the strict 
 probity, the severe morahty they professed ; in others, 
 their handsome church, and faithful observance of the 
 Lord's day. He took care, even, to avoid in his dis- 
 courses the appearance of controversy, or refutation 
 of error; because, he said, in all contests self-love 
 becomes a party, and its principle is never to ac- 
 knowledge itself convinced. For this reason, he al- 
 ways anticipated objections, by putting his refutation 
 of them in the form of a proof or exposition of his 
 subject, without even stating them expressly. The 
 following was his usual mode of proceeding : — He 
 began by making a clear statement of the question; 
 setting forth with precision the true doctrine of the 
 church, and rejecting all the false representations by 
 which heretics have disguised it for the purpose of 
 bringing it into discredit. He then brought forward 
 his proofs, in the most simple and natural man- 
 ner, with reasons so intelligible to the most ordinary 
 understandings, that no effort of mind was neces- 
 sary in order to feel tlieir force. He dwelt particu- 
 larly on those proofs which address themselves to 
 the heart, exhibiting all that is engaging and touching, 
 noble and worthy of the Deity, in the Catholic belief; 
 and, more than once, he witnessed the happy effects 
 of this method. 
 
HIS STYLE OF PREACHING ON THESE OCCASIONS. 103 
 
 His manner of preaching may be better understood 
 by a few examples, which we have received from 
 his own mouth. He proposed, one day, to preach 
 upon the adoration of the cross. He began by a 
 distinct declaration, that, in this act of worship, Jesus 
 Christ, the God-man, is alone adored ; and that the 
 cross is honored, only as the image which represents 
 him to us. Then, entering upon his subject, *'Let 
 us suppose," said he, " that you are about to fall 
 by the sword of an enemy, ^nd that a generous man, 
 seeing this, throws himself between you and the as- 
 sassin, and saves your life by the sacrifice of his own. 
 A painter, struck by this act of heroism, makes a 
 portrait of the generous man, and presents him to 
 your view, bathed in his blood, and covered with 
 wounds. What do you do ? You seize upon it 
 with love and gratitude, press it to your lips, bedew 
 it with your tears, and think your lieart can never 
 feel enough. My brethren, this is the whole Cath- 
 olic doctrine of the adoration of the cross. It is not 
 for the mind to reason about, but for the heait to 
 experience, all those feelings with which it must be 
 inspired by the image of God, who died that we 
 might live." At these words, the whole audience 
 was moved ; the preacher took the crucifix, and 
 the Protestants, forgetting their sharp controversy, 
 kissed the cross of the Saviour, with tears and affec- 
 tion. 
 
 At another time, Bishop Cheverus, having occa- 
 
104 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 sion to preach in a Protestant church, took for his 
 text these words of our Saviour, " This is my body, 
 this is my blood ;'^* from which he demonstrated 
 these three positions. 1st. That the real presence 
 of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist is a doctrine most 
 clearly revealed in Scripture ; since human language 
 could not convey this idea by expressions more un- 
 equivocal. 2d. That it is most worthy of God ; 
 since it is the most affecting mystery of love, and 
 nothing can be more worthy of God than a love 
 for man exceeding our comprehension. And, lastly, 
 that it is most moral ; since nothing is better adapted 
 to make man comprehend the eminent sanctity he 
 should preserve both of soul and body, which, by 
 this mystery, became the living temple of the Di- 
 vinity. This truth, thus presented, made a powerful 
 impression upon the Protestants ; and the Bishop 
 heard some of them say, on leaving the church, 
 *' We did not think the Catholics had such strong 
 reasons in favor of their belief." Even a clergyman 
 came to him, who had been struck by his arguments, 
 and had but one objection to make to them. " If 
 what you have just been asserting be true," said he, 
 " you must be purer yourself than an angel ; you 
 who daily receive into yourself a God!" "At 
 these words," said the Bishop, in relating the cir- 
 cumstance, '• I blushed, looked down, and was silent." 
 Nevertheless, in his various discourses. Bishop 
 * Matt. xxvL 26, 28. 
 
HIS STYLE OP PREACHING BEPOKE PROTESTANTS. 105 
 
 Cheverus remarked that the discussion of the peculiar 
 dogmas of our belief produced but little substantial 
 fruit; since the light thrown on one point left the 
 mind free scope to find out new difficulties on an- 
 other ; the battle-ground was changed, but the enemy 
 was always in the field, and armed. For this reason, 
 he very often endeavoured to prove and inculcate, in 
 every possible manner, the necessity of some standard 
 authority to determine the faith of the learned, as 
 well as of the ignorant. This he considered the 
 capital point on which the whole controversy turned. 
 To convince the Protestants of this truth, he often 
 repeated to them, in the discourses which he pro- 
 nounced from their pulpits, these simple words, which 
 always produced a good effect : " Every day, my 
 brethren, I read, as you do, the Holy Scriptures; 
 I read them with reflection and prayer, invoking the 
 aid of the Holy Spirit ; and yet I meet, in almost 
 every page, things I do not understand; I need the 
 authority of the church to point out the right mean- 
 ing, and to settle my belief with regard to the pas- 
 sage in question." The audience immediately drew 
 this inference : " If Bishop Cheverus, who is much 
 more learned than we are, does not understand all 
 the Holy Scriptures, how can our ministers tell us 
 that they are a perfectly clear rule of faith for each 
 of us, and intelligible without any foreign aid ? " 
 He then, after having convinced them that the 
 
106 l^IFB OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 majority of men cannot of themselves decide upon 
 particular points of doctrine, exhibited to them Divine 
 Wisdom coming to the aid of feeble humanity, by in- 
 stituting a standard authority, which, deriving its origin 
 from Jesus Christ and the Apostles, has come down to 
 us, through an uninterrupted series of pastors, profess- 
 ing always, and in all places, the same unchanging 
 doctrine. 
 
 These instructions had so much effect that a per- 
 son* one day said to him, *^ I agree with you, that, 
 Christianity being once admitted, Catholicism is a 
 necessary consequence ; if I believed in Jesus Christ, 
 I should be forced, by sound logical reasoning, to 
 believe in the Romish Church." The ministers of 
 the different denominations found it equally difficult 
 to shut their eyes against this truth ; in disputing 
 among themselves, they mutually proved each other 
 clearly in the wrong, and almost always ended by 
 saying to one another, " By what right would you 
 subject my reason to yours ? If I wished to submit 
 my reason to any authority, I would embrace the 
 religion of Bishop Cheverus ; that, at least, may 
 claim for itself the most imposing authority on earth." 
 
 Besides these discourses addressed to the people, 
 M. Cheverus several times held public conferences 
 with the Protestant ministers, and always] came off 
 victorious. He pressed his opponents closely, but 
 
 * [Ministrc in the original. See Appendix, p. 386. — Tr»] 
 
HIS CONFERENCES WITH PROTESTANT MINISTERS. ] 07 
 
 always with calmness and moderation, and replied 
 to their ravings by the force of reasoning ; to their 
 reproaches, by words as mild as they were convinc- 
 ing ; to arguments that set good sense at defiance, 
 sometimes by a keen retort, and sometimes by a 
 monitory jest. On one occasion, a Methodist minis- 
 ter, in arguing against him, undertook to prove his own 
 position by bringing together texts of Scripture, which 
 bad no connexion with each other, and to draw from 
 this combination of incoherent passages a conclusion, 
 which he delivered in a triumphant tone. " What 
 have you to answer to that ? " cried he. Bishop 
 Cheverus, perfectly unmoved, replied calmly, " Have 
 you not read in the Scriptures, that Judas hanged 
 himself 1 Well," added he, smiling, '* it is also said 
 in the Scriptures, Go and do likewise.^^ This sally 
 threw the assembly into a fit of laughter, and made 
 them comprehend, better than any reasoning could 
 have done, the absurdity of the minister's argument, 
 and the strange abuse he made of the Holy Scrip- 
 tures. Thus Bishop Cheverus, by his sagacity and 
 great learning, silenced the clergymen of the various 
 sects ; and it was the common opinion among Prot- 
 estants, that Bishop Cheverus had more learning 
 than their own ministers; only, they added, by way 
 of justifying them, that his was human and profane 
 learning, while theirs was the inspiration of the Holy 
 Spirit. 
 
 The Bishop of Boston derived the most consoling 
 fruits from all these discourses and conferences. Many 
 
108 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Protestants were not content with merely seeing the 
 hght of truth, presented thus clearly to their eyes; 
 they had the magnanimity to follow and embrace the 
 Catholic religion. Among these conversions, there 
 were four particularly remarkable. The first was that 
 of Mr. Thomas Walley, a citizen of Boston, distin- 
 guished as much for the elegance of his mind as for 
 his literary acquisitions. He became the glory of 
 the Catholic religion in that city, and exhibited to 
 the world, not only in his own person, but also in 
 his pious wife and numerous family of children, a 
 touching model of all the Christian virtues ; of piety 
 towards God, of goodness ever amiable, and of com- 
 passionate charity towards others. The second con- 
 version was that of Mr. Samuel Bishop, a counsellor 
 at law, at Newcastle, in the State of Maine. His 
 abjuration was made with the greatest solemnity. 
 It was on Sunday, in the month of August, and a 
 large assembly of people were collected in St. Pat- 
 rick's church, at Newcastle. In the presence of this 
 multitude, Mr. Bishop, regardless of the opinion 
 of men, pronounced aloud his abjuration of heresy, 
 and his profession of the Catholic faith. He was 
 then baptized ; either because he had not before 
 received baptism at all, as is the case with most of 
 the inhabitants of this country, since the clergy no 
 longer believe in the necessity of this sacrament ; * or 
 because it had been administered in an unsatisfactory 
 
 * [The American reader will make the necessary allow- 
 ance for statements of this sort — Ti\] 
 
REMARKABLE CONVERSIONS. 109 
 
 manner. He then received the sacraments of Con- 
 firmation and the Holy Eucharist, with a glowing 
 faith and piety which were edifying to all present. 
 But the conversions which awakened most joy in 
 the heart of Bishop Cheverus were those of two 
 Protestant ministers, a father and son. The father 
 was in the actual exercise of the ministerial office ; 
 the son had not been settled in the ministry, being 
 the principal of a literary institution. They not 
 only came over to the Catholic faith, but made a 
 solemn profession of all its highest requirements. 
 The father, having received the lesser orders and per- 
 mission to preach, did not wish further preferment 
 in the ecclesiastical profession, of which he thought 
 himself unworthy. The son, more ardent, desired 
 to abandon all, and to follow Jesus Christ in the 
 ways of religious perfection ; but he was tied to the 
 world by the bonds of matrimony. He put up vows 
 to Heaven, and prayed earnestly. God heard his 
 prayers, and touched the heart of his wife, who, on 
 her part, entertained similar views. They opened 
 their hearts to each other; and, the wife having en- 
 tered a convent of The Visitation, the zealous con- 
 vert, being then free from his engagements, blessed 
 God who had broken his chains, and joined the Society 
 of Jesus, in which he became an exemplary and zeal- 
 ous priest. The Bishop of Boston felt a curiosity to 
 learn from such credible witnesses, whether, during 
 the many years that they had lived in the Protest- 
 10 
 
110 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ant belief, they had not entertained some doubts in 
 respect to its truth, and if they should have died easy 
 in that religion. He received the following remark- 
 able reply : that, until the day when they had been 
 instructed and enlightened by him, their sincerity had 
 always been so perfect that they had never thought 
 of doubting ; and that it was through his instrumen- 
 tality alone, that the truth had been revealed to 
 them for the first time. This example, with many 
 others, cheered the heart of Bishop Cheverus, by 
 giving him reason to believe that many Protestants 
 might have the same sincerity, or invincible igno- 
 rance, which would extenuate their errors in the 
 sight of God.* He also concluded from it, that we 
 ought to be very indulgent towards those who are 
 deceived, and extremely slow to condemn them. 
 " God only," said he, "sees the depths of the heart ; 
 
 * Such honest conviction may easily be conceived of in a 
 country imbued with so many prejudices against the Cath- 
 olic church. In any other country, where such prejudices 
 do not exist, and the intercourse with well-informed Catho- 
 lics is frequent, it would be more difficult to conceive of it, 
 though perhaps possible in certain circumstances. Further, 
 the sentiments of Bishop Cheverus, with regard to the ef- 
 ficacy of such sincerity in the eyes of God, are conformable 
 to the general opinion of Catholic theologians. St. Augustine 
 inculcates it (Lib. IV., De Baptismo, contra Donat, cap. xvi.). 
 The Faculty of Theology at Paris says, to the same pur- 
 pose, [Censure of Emile, proposition 52,) "Many, the number 
 of whom God only knows, although brought up in commu- 
 
H13 BENEVOLENCE TO THE REFUGEE COLONISTS. 1 1 1 
 
 he alone can judge of its sincerity ; and we ought 
 to leave the secret with him." 
 
 Amid all the anxieties of the Bishop of Boston 
 for the increase and sanctification of his flock, he 
 saw it enlarged beyond his expectation, by the ar- 
 rival of numbers of unfortunate Frenchmen, whom the 
 disasters of the colonies had driven forth to wander 
 from country to country, seeking an asylum, safety, 
 and the means of Hving. Many of them had already 
 taken refuge in Boston, before his arrival there ; and 
 since then, they had continued to come in consid- 
 erable numbers ; attracted, perhaps, by his reputation 
 for charity. Looking upon them as men in distress, 
 Christians, and unfortunate Frenchmen, Bishop Chev- 
 erus, received them with all the kindness that these 
 claims upon his charity would naturally inspire. He 
 assisted them, first, with all that he had, for he al- 
 
 nions divided from the Catholic church, are pardoned, on the 
 plea of insurmountable ignorance, for schism or heresy. We 
 do not regard them as aliens from the church, out of which 
 
 there is no salvation They may firmly believe many 
 
 truths, which are retained in their communions, and which 
 may suffice effectually for their salvation." Finally, the cel- 
 ebrated Nicole, whose adherence to rigid doctrine is well 
 known, himself says, ( On the Unity of the Church, Liv. I. c. iii.,) 
 " According to all Catholic theologians, there are a great 
 number of living members and true children of the church 
 in other communions ; since there are so many children con- 
 stituting always a considerable part of them, and there may 
 also be some such believers among adults." 
 
112 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ways began by stripping himself; then with all the 
 alms he could collect, for he, who never asked any 
 thing for his own wants, did not fear to ask for the 
 necessities of others. In distributing his bounties, he 
 doubled the benefit by his delicate manner of be- 
 stowing it. As these refugees were, in general, men 
 of honorable condition, who would have felt it a 
 humiliation to ask assistance, and to whom it was 
 painful even to receive it. Bishop Cheverus aided 
 them with so much delicacy and judgment, that self- 
 love, so far from being wounded, was, on the contrary, 
 enabled to rejoice, in the regard and marks of respect 
 which he lavished upon them, in order to soften, as 
 much as he could, their sad condition, and make 
 them forget, if possible, that they were unfortunate. 
 He visited them often, to testify his esteem and in- 
 terest ; but, more than all, to assure himself that 
 they wanted nothing. These visits paid to the un- 
 fortunate, were not without consolation to himself. 
 Beside the pleasure a kind heart experiences in sol- 
 acing misfortune, he had the -happiness sometimes of 
 meeting with lofty virtues. Entering, one day, a house, 
 which till then had escaped his benevolent vigilance, 
 he found its inmates in extreme want of every thing. 
 Afflicted at the sight, he reproached himself for their 
 sufferings, and asked pardon. " You must have 
 passed many sad days here," said he. " No, Sir," 
 replied the father, a venerable old man whose faith 
 and piety were worthy of patriarchal times, " it is 
 
CHARACTER OF THESE REFUGEES. 113 
 
 true we have been in extreme poverty ; but we have 
 not been sad nor unhappy. We have put our con- 
 fidence in God, who never abandons those who hope 
 in him ; and we knew that his providence would come 
 to our aid." Words so full of faith, spoken with the 
 calmness and serenity of virtue, so affected the heart 
 of Bishop Cheverus, that he never could relate the cir- 
 cumstance afterwards without emotion ; and he said 
 this was the most perfect image of the just man, that 
 he had ever seen on earth. 
 
 But if among these victims of misfortune instances 
 of exalted virtue were met with, he found also faithless 
 Christians, forgetful of. their salvation, and careless in 
 regard to their eternal destiny. In these cases, he ad- 
 ministered spiritual alms as well as temporal ; endeav- 
 ouring to recall these erring hearts to the practice of 
 their religious duties. To insure success, he began 
 by making virtue appear amiable and attractive in his 
 own person, gained the heart by kindness, and was 
 so observant of propriety with respect both to time 
 and manner, as to make what he said to them ap- 
 pear like the advice of a friend, rather than the hard 
 and wearisome lessons of a master or censor; and 
 the suggestions prompted by his zeal were so mild, 
 so tender, and affectionate, that they were almost 
 irresistible. Among these refugees was a man of so 
 violent a character, and of a disposition so wrathful and 
 terrible, that every one was terrified at his fits of pas- 
 sion, to which many who had had quarrels with him 
 10* 
 
1 14 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 had already fallen victims. He was, in other respects, 
 a man of elevated sentiments and a strong mind, 
 whose passions required only a friendly hand to re- 
 strain and direct them. Bishop Cheverus, whose 
 penetrating glance could detect the characters of 
 men, very soon discerned the mixture of good and 
 evil in the soul of this fearful man. He set him- 
 self to work to gain his affection by all honor- 
 able means. The feelings of honor and dehcacy 
 were aroused in the man, and urged him to make 
 some return ; and it was not long before a great 
 intimacy took place between them ; they were friends. 
 The Bishop of Boston became the master of his 
 heart, directed, governed, and softened him, and he 
 soon appeared a new man, mild and gentle, and a 
 fervent Christian. In becoming the friend of Bishop 
 Cheverus, he seemed to have found another soul, 
 another character, a new life. From that time, also, 
 he never called the Bishop by any name but Father ; 
 and never did a son exhibit more tenderness and 
 devotedness towards the author of his existence. 
 
 Though the occupations of Bishop Cheverus were 
 many and great in his own diocese, yet he could 
 also supply the demands of other dioceses. Although 
 New York had been erected into a bishopric, yet 
 it had no bishop, in consequence of the death of 
 the person appointed to that place, who, however, 
 had never been able to go there. Bishop Cheverus 
 
CONSECRATES THE CATHEDRAL OF NEW YORK. 115 
 
 supplied his place. The Jesuits had charge of the 
 church there, and whenever they thought his pres- 
 ence might be useful to the cause of religion, he re- 
 paired immediately to New York, without ever suffer- 
 ing the distance or any other consideration to prevent 
 him. Among the various ceremonies he performed 
 there, one of the most solemn was the consecration of 
 the cathedral, a large and beautiful church in the 
 Gothic style, one hundred and twenty feet in length, 
 and eighty feet in width. On Ascension Day, Bishop 
 Cheverus dedicated it to Saint Patrick, in the presence 
 of all the principal inhabitants of the city, and an im- 
 mense multitude of spectators. The church was filled 
 to overflowing, and great numbers could not gain ad- 
 mittance. It was indeed a day of triumph for religion, 
 in this great Protestant city ; and Bishop Cheverus cel- 
 ebrated it, says a New York Journal, " with his usual 
 spiritual eloquence, and wonderful appropriateness,^^ 
 in the sermon which he pronounced, after reading the 
 Gospel for the day, upon these words from the 
 Psalms : " Lord, I have loved the beauty of thy 
 house : Domine, dilexi decorem domus iuceJ' 
 
 The zeal of the Bishop of Boston was not con- 
 fined to the different parts of the United States ; 
 it embraced the whole world ; he sympathized in the 
 afl^ictions of the whole church. We find a touching 
 proof of this in a letter which he addressed, a few 
 years after his consecration, to the Archbishops and 
 Bishops of Ireland. These venerable prelates had 
 
116 LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 been much afflicted and disquieted by the persecu- 
 tions, which Bonaparte was then enkindling against 
 the church ; especially in the person of its head, the 
 illustrious Pius the Seventh, whom he had driven from 
 Rome, and deprived of his estates. They had writ- 
 ten to many Catholic bishops, to concert with them 
 the best course to pursue, in times so critical. Bishop 
 Cheverus having received such a letter, in concert, 
 doubtless, with the other Bishops of the United 
 States, wrote them a reply, breathing the most touch- 
 ing zeal in the cause of the church and its august 
 head. '^ We are connected whh the sovereign Pon- 
 tiff," says he, " as the members of the body are with 
 the head ; and if, as Saint Paul says, ^ when one mem- 
 ber suffers, all the members suffer with it,' how much 
 more must all the members feel for the sufferings of 
 the head which governs them. We mourn with 
 you, venerable brethren, and feel a holy indigna- 
 tion ; with you, we express our detestation of the 
 outrage which drives an- old man from the home of 
 his fathers ; which persecutes and afflicts a Bishop 
 without reproach ; strips the supreme mother Church 
 of her patrimony ; and overwhelms with insult a Pon- 
 tiff, who has done nothing but good. We declare 
 also before God, that we will receive with humble 
 respect the advice of our Most Holy Father, though 
 detained in captivity ; and that his wishes, as well as 
 his orders, shall always find us docile and obedient. 
 Nevertheless, we shall not consider ourselves bound 
 
SYMPATHY IN THE SUFFERINGS OF THE CHURCH. 1 17 
 
 by letters which shall be given us as coming from him, 
 except so far as we have incontestable evidence that 
 they were written by him in full and perfect liberty. 
 And, should he die, which may God forbid, in the 
 midst of these great perils of the church, we will 
 recognise no one, whom terror and violence shall 
 place in his stead in the chair of Saint Peter. We 
 will submit only to him whom the majority of the 
 bishops throughout the world, and the generality of the 
 Catholics, shall recognise as the undoubted successor 
 of Saint Peter."* 
 
 * " Summo Pontifici, velut membra capiti, adhseremus et 
 subjicimur : cilm autem, ut ex S. Paulo habemus, si patitur 
 unum membrum, compatiuntur omnia membra, quant6 magis 
 capitis ipsius acerbos dolores amarissimum sui sensum in 
 omnibus membris excitari oportet ! Vobiscum, venerabiles 
 fratres, lugemus et apu(J Dominum indignamur. Vobiscum 
 infandum illud pronunciamus, quod senex domo, patria extur- 
 betur, episcopus insons affligatur, Ecclesia magistra patrimo- 
 nio exuatur, et bene meritus Pontifex contumeliis exagitetur. 
 
 Interim coram Domino profitemur nos sanctissimi patris, 
 
 etsi in captivitate detenti, monita humiliter audituros, ejusque 
 votis et mandatis prompt^ obtemperaturos ; nunquam tamen 
 litteris tanquam ab eo emanantibus constrictos nos esse cen- 
 sebimus, nisi priiis sublata fuerit omnis vel minima suspicionis 
 umbra qu6d plena perfectaque libertate non sit gavisus. Si 
 autem e vivis excedat (quod in tantis Ecclesiae periculis Deus 
 avertat !) et per vim terroremque in Petri cathedram ascendere 
 quispiam attentaverit, ita animo comparati sumus, et populo 
 soUicitudini nostrse commisso persuadere conabimur, neminem 
 pro vero et indubitato S. Petri successore agnoscendum, nisi 
 quem longe major pars episcoporum totius orbis et fer^ omnis 
 populus catholicus pro tali agnoverint" 
 
118 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 The last part of ibis letter, while it makes known 
 to us the prudent and enlightened devotion of the 
 Bishop of Boston to the Holy See, informs us, also, 
 what was then feared by the Catholic world from the 
 despotism of Bonaparte. Happily, Providence, which 
 calms the tempest by a word, and sets bounds to the 
 raging floods, was also able to arrest, in time, the career 
 of the ambitious emperor, and break his power. It was 
 not long before all Europe arrayed herself against the 
 colossal power that wished to trample her in the dust ; 
 all the armies of the north poured in upon France. 
 Bonaparte fell ; sovereigns and people were set free ; 
 and the Head of the Church, so long a captive, was 
 allowed to return to the Eternal City, and thence 
 continue to exercise his salutary and pacific sway 
 over the Catholic world. An event so propitious for 
 the peace of the world was greeted with enthusiasm 
 by the inhabitants of Boston ; and a day of public 
 rejoicing was appointed, in commemoration of it. But 
 no one felt more joy on the occasion, or celebrated it 
 with more delight, than Bishop Cheverus. His joy 
 was in proportion to the grief he had felt on account 
 of the oppression of the church and its august head. 
 He also observed a day of solemn thanksgiving in his 
 church ; caused the Te Deum to be sung, with all 
 possible pomp ; and pronounced a discourse, in which 
 he surpassed himself. " Never," say the Boston jour- 
 nals, " was he so eloquent and pathetic before ; and 
 it is impossible to express with what transport and 
 
HIS JOY ON THE DELIVERANCE OF THE POPE. 119 
 
 with what a tone of triumph, he celebrated the Hberty 
 of an enfranchised world, the deliverance of the church 
 from a degrading thraldom, the cessation of the scourge 
 of war, which, for so many years, had cut off whole 
 generations of men, the restoration of peace upon 
 earth, and of the Bourbons to the throne, all nations 
 becoming friends once more, and universal love unit- 
 ing all." A Boston journal * adds : " These effu- 
 sions of pulpit eloquence were without effort ; for his 
 heart was full of sympathy for mankind, and he suf- 
 fered and enjoyed with those near or remote." In 
 the evening, the whole city was illuminated. But the 
 illumination of the cathedral, and especially of the cross 
 on its summit, by the Bishop of Boston, surpassed 
 in magnificence all others, whether of public buildings 
 or private houses. He looked upon this celebration 
 as the triumph of religion and the church, and the 
 glory of the Apostolic See ; and he was desirous of 
 manifesting all the joy that interests so dear ought 
 to inspire in the heart of a Catholic. 
 
 Some time after this event, the church of the United 
 States suffered a severe loss, in the death of its me- 
 tropolitan, Mr. Carroll, Archbishop of Baltimore. 
 This loss was the greater and the more sensibly felt, 
 in consequence of the successor whom he left being 
 an infirm old man, wanting the physical strength 
 which the office demanded, and regarding himself as 
 already on the verge of the tomb. This person was 
 * [Boston Monthly Magazine, June, 1825.] 
 
120 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Mr. Neale, heretofore Assistant Bishop. The ven- 
 erable old man, deeply feeling the embarrassment 
 of his situation, petitioned the Holy See to associate 
 the Bishop of Boston with him as his assistant ; rep- 
 resenting this prelate as the most able to assist him, 
 while he lived, in the government of his diocese, and 
 the best adapted, to succeed him after his death, as 
 the head of the Catholic church in the United States. 
 The Sovereign Pontiff appeared to favor this proposal ; 
 but wished to ascertain, in the first place, how he 
 was to supply the place of Bishop Cheverus in Bos- 
 ton. When Bishop Neale received this answer, he 
 earnestly besought the Bishop of Boston to come to 
 him as soon as possible, that they might confer to- 
 gether on subjects of the greatest importance to the 
 prosperity of the American churches. The Bishop 
 of Boston having come, and being informed of the 
 letters from Rome which consented to appoint him 
 Assistant Bishop of Baltimore, was surprised and 
 afflicted. He protested strongly against the measure, 
 and represented to the Archbishop, that to tear him 
 from Boston was to sacrifice the infant church there ; 
 that M. Matignon was the only priest that knew the di- 
 ocese, and was well known in it ; but that, bowed down 
 by years and still more by infirmities, it was impossible 
 to think of burdening him with the duties of the Bish- 
 op's office. Bishop Neale had no difficulty in under- 
 standing these reasons, and consented that Bishop 
 Cheverus should remain at Boston, where his presence 
 
REFUSES THE OFFICE OF ASSISTANT BISHOP. 121 
 
 was SO necessary ; but he proposed to him another 
 arrangement, to be submitted to the Holy See, which 
 was confined to these two points, namely : first, that 
 he should from time to time summon him to Balti- 
 more, in order that he might find in his counsels, his 
 friendship, his co-operation in the ministry, the aid, 
 the consolation, and the support, which he needed : 
 secondly, that, on the death of the Archbishop of Bal- 
 timore, he should without delay come to fill his place ; 
 so that this diocese, the most important in the United 
 States, from being the metropolitan see, as well as 
 from the number of its priests and members, should 
 never be without a bishop. Bishop Cheverus replied, 
 that he should in all things obey the will of the Holy 
 See ; but that he saw in this new arrangement seri- 
 ous difficulties; and he did all he could, to induce the 
 Archbishop to choose an assistant who should be al- 
 ways with him. He mentioned to him many Jesuit 
 Fathers, and proposed M. Marechal, a priest of St. 
 Sulpicius, who had already been thought of for the See 
 of Philadelphia, assuring him that they were much 
 better fitted for the situation than he. The Jesuits 
 remonstrated ; and M. Marechal objected. In the 
 midst of these discussions, originating in and continued 
 from modesty, Bishop Cheverus hastened to write to 
 Rome, in order to ward off the blow which threatened 
 him. " The church of Boston," he says in his letter,* 
 
 * " Sponsa facta est mihi dilecta ecclesia Bostoniensis, nee 
 
 illud unquam in mente habui ut illara desererem Omni- 
 
 11 
 
122 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ** has become to me a dearly beloved spouse, and I 
 have never thought of abandoning her. It is the uni- 
 versal opinion, as it is also mine, that the Catholic 
 religion would suffer serious injury from my removal, 
 and the introduction of a new bishop, unknown to 
 the people and a stranger to their characters. The 
 diocese of Baltimore has priests much more worthy 
 than myself, (I say it before God, and in the sincerity of 
 my soul,) especially among the Jesuit Fathers, whose 
 excellent qualities, whose piety, zeal, and indefatigable 
 labors are above all praise. The seminary of Balti- 
 more likewise affords men truly apostolical ; and two 
 among them, already chosen bishops, are the joy and 
 pride of the church of the United States. I pray, 
 then, most earnestly, that some one more worthy than 
 myself may be selected, as Assistant Bishop of Balti- 
 more." 
 
 After having written and despatched this letter, of 
 which we have only given a few extracts, Bishop 
 
 bus persuasum est, nee ego dissentire possum, Catholicam 
 religionem multum detrimenti capturam esse, si ab hac 
 recesserit ille quem cognoscunt et a quo cognoscuntur, et 
 episcopus illis ignotus, meritis hcet major, in meum locum 
 succedat. Inter sacerdotes dioecesis Baltimorensis plurimos 
 meipso valde digniores ex animo et coram Deo arbitror, prse- 
 sertim inter patres S. J., quorum eximiae dotes, pietas in 
 Deum, zelus, et labores indefessi, nunquam satis commendari 
 
 possunt Verd apostolicos habemus quoque in seminario 
 
 Baltimorensi sacerdotes S. Sulpicii ; ex eorum sodalitio as- 
 sumptis duobus episcopis gaudet jam et gloriatur foederate 
 Americse ecclesia. Ut alius dignior eligatur, enixe precor." 
 
REaUESTS PERMISSION TO REMAIN IN BOSTON. 123 
 
 Cheverus took leave of the Archbishop, beseeching 
 him to think no more of him, and returned to Boston ; 
 but he felt sad and uneasy. Bishop Neale, after much 
 reflection, decided in favor of M. Marechal, and re- 
 quested that he might be made Assistant Bishop of 
 Baltimore. When the Bishop of Boston wsls in- 
 formed of this, he wrote a second letter to Rome, to 
 express his satisfaction, and ask the favor of never 
 being separated from his beloved church at Boston. 
 " I have suffered," he says in this letter, " and ray 
 heart has been continually agitated by fear, lest the 
 obedience v^^hich I owe to his Holiness, and which 
 must always be the rule of my conduct, should force 
 me to abandon my beloved flock. But to fear and 
 anxiety have succeeded peace and happiness, since I 
 learned the nomination of M. Marechal, as Assistant 
 Bishop of Baltimore. Now I pray, I supplicate, I 
 entreat, with heartfelt earnestness, that I may never 
 be transferred to any other diocese ; that I may be 
 permitted to consecrate all my cares to my small, but 
 beloved flock; to sacrifice to it all that I have, to sac- 
 rifice myself. I shall rejoice to see M. Marechal in 
 the exercise of the episcopal office in that city, where 
 he and his colleagues, the priests of St. Sulpicius, 
 have been the guides and models of the clergy, and 
 have obtained universal respect." * 
 
 ^"Continuus cordi meo dolor erat, ne dilectum gregem 
 relinquere me cogeret obedientia quam debeo semperque 
 prcBstare intendo Sanctitati Suse ; sed pax et Isetitia timoris et 
 
124 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Free from all anxiety, and living only for his be- 
 loved church at Boston, Bishop Cheverus was pursu- 
 ing in peace his useful and important labors, when he 
 learned that two Jesuit Fathers were about to sail for 
 Rome, whither the Archbishop of Baltimore had de- 
 spatched them on business relating to his diocese. He 
 immediately transmitted to them a letter for the Holy 
 See, which exhibits the pleasure he felt in speaking 
 their praise, and expressing the tender friendship that 
 bound him to them. " I learn," says he in this letter, 
 " that the venerable Father Grassy is about to proceed 
 to Rome ; he will verbally inform you of the state of 
 our churches ; from his pure lips you will learn the truth 
 as it is. I have the most profound veneration for this 
 beloved Father of the beloved Society ; and this senti- 
 ment I entertain in common with the other bishops, and 
 all ecclesiastics who love piety. The companion of his 
 voyage is the worthy Father F. of the same society, 
 whom I have the honor of numbering among my most 
 intimate friends We pray for the speedy return 
 
 anxietatis locum occupaverunt, ex quo didici Rev. et cert^ 
 digniorem Marechal coadjutorem Baltimorensem a Sanctitate 
 Sua fuisse constitutum. Precor nunc, imo supplex et enixe 
 rogo, ut nunquam ad aliam sedem transferar. Liceat parvo 
 quidem, sed dilecto gregi invigilare et pro eo impendere et 
 
 super impendi Gaudeo quod ibi preesulis vice fungatur 
 
 Rev. Marechal ubi ipse et ejus socii, S. Sulpicii sacerdotes, 
 cleri norma et institutores fuerunt et omnium venerationem 
 sibi conciliarunt." 
 
HIS AFFECTION FOR THE PRIESTS OF ST. SULPICIUS. 125 
 
 of these two Fathers, accompanied by new laborers of 
 their own society. For here the harvest is abundant, 
 but the laborers few; and we need men like those 
 whom the Society of Jesus furnishes. They are 
 truly ministers who do honor to the church, and 
 rightly dispense the word of truth." * 
 
 The great affection that the Bishop of Boston en- 
 tertained for the Jesuits was extended also to the 
 priests of St. Sulpicius ; he was intimate with all the 
 directors of the Seminary at Baltimore, but more par- 
 ticularly with the Superior, M. Nagot, whom he ven- 
 erated as a saint, and loved as a father. He took 
 pleasure, afterwards, in relating how this venerable 
 Superior, wishing to resign his situation that he might 
 give all his thoughts to his own salvation, requested 
 him to manage this business with the Archbishop of 
 Baltimore, and to come and install his successor. 
 Bishop Cheverus did both ; and was touched, as well 
 
 * " Audio ven. P. Grassy S. J. Romam cit6 transmeaturum. 
 Ipse viva voce quse ad ecclesias nostras spectant negotia ex- 
 planabit : ex ipsius puro ore genuinam audies veritatem. Una 
 cum aliis episcopis cseterisque quibus pietas cordi est ecclesi- 
 asticis viris dilectum dilectse societatis Patrem maxima prose- 
 quor veneratione. Ipsi comes adjungitur dilectus P. F. ejusdem 
 societatis, quem inter mihi amicissimos numerare gaudeo. 
 ..... Cit6 redeant ad nos precamur, hi duo Patres novorum 
 sociorum coron^ stipati. Messis multa in his locis, operarii 
 pauci ; et talibus indigemus operariis quales suppeditat societas 
 Jesu. Hi nemp^ sunt operarii inconfusibiles, rect^ tractan- 
 tes verbum veritatis." 
 
 11* 
 
126 i^IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 as edified, by the humility of this good old man ; who, 
 as soon as his associate was proclaimed Superior, went 
 and fell on his knees, to promise him obedience and 
 ask his benediction. He also corresponded with the 
 priests of St. Sulpicius, at Montreal in Canada ; and, 
 though the distance was great, he travelled there re- 
 peatedly, in order to serve them, and attempt to 
 mediate between them and a powerful personage who 
 was opposed to them. He longed for the pleasure of 
 having them at his disposal, to make them priests 
 for his own diocese, which was destitute. But this 
 being impossible, for want of personal and pecuniary 
 resources sufficient to establish, agreeably to a reso- 
 lution of the Council of Trent, a seminary where 
 priests to aid him might be educated, he chose some 
 virtuous and intelligent young persons, whom he 
 thought suited to the clerical profession, took them 
 home with him to his own house, gave them lessons, 
 had them attend him in the performance of the va- 
 rious duties of his ministry, and taught them the 
 practice, while they studied the science, of their profes- 
 sion. They were exercised in singing, in the various 
 ceremonies of the church, and in preaching. And 
 while he thus enjoyed the consolation of preparing 
 good priests for future ministry in the church, he expe- 
 rienced the present important advantage of giving more 
 pomp and majesty to the religious services. Nothing 
 could be more delightful than this seminary in the 
 episcopal residence. Every thing was done by rule ; 
 
ESTABLISHES A CONVENT OP URSULINES. 127 
 
 but, at the same time, from affection. They feared to 
 displease, because they loved him ; they anticipated 
 all his wishes, because they were happy to do any 
 thing that was agreeable to so good a master ; and this 
 attachment did not end with their clerical education. 
 More than ten years afterwards, some young eccle- 
 siastics took a voyage from Boston to Bordeaux, for 
 the sole purpose of seeing once more their former 
 teacher, and enjoying the pleasure of his society ; and 
 when duty forced them to part from him, to return 
 to their post, there were cries of grief, and distress, 
 and tears, as if they had lost a father or a mother. 
 At the same time that the Bishop of Boston was 
 training up fellow-laborers for the ministry, he was 
 engaged in an enterprise of the greatest importance. 
 Hitherto, there was not in his diocese a single Cath- 
 olic estabhshment for the education of young per- 
 sons ; consequently, their parents were reduced to the 
 necessity, either of educating them themselves, which 
 was in most cases impossible, or of sending them 
 to Protestant institutions, where they were imbued 
 from childhood with errors and prejudices against the 
 Catholic church. It was of the utmost importance 
 to find a remedy for so great an evil, and to open 
 a pure fountain, where they might at the same time 
 imbibe sound doctrines, and acquire such knowledge 
 as would best fit them for their condition in life. 
 But, on the other hand, such an undertaking was 
 attended with very serious difficulties. It was a 
 
128 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 pious work, which offered but little to be hoped for 
 in the present life, and there was but one religious 
 community, that could take charge of such an insti- 
 tution, and offer sufficient guaranties for its stability.^ 
 Then how could the nuns be induced to come so far, 
 and what would be said of such a thing in Boston ? 
 Would a country, so imbued with prejudice against 
 monastic vows, suffer a nunnery to be established ? 
 And finally, where could they obtain a building for the 
 purpose, and the means of supporting this new com- 
 munity ? All these difficulties did not deter the Bishop 
 of Boston ; and his prudence understood how to over- 
 come all obstacles. He applied to a community of 
 Ursulines, celebrated for their skill in the education 
 of youth, and obtained a company from it. He ap- 
 pealed to the generosity of his dear Catholics, and 
 they furnished the funds necessary for the purchase of 
 a house, and the maintenance of the nuns. The Ur- 
 sulines arrived ; and the next day the public jour- 
 nals announced the intelligence, expressing sentiments 
 not altogether hostile, — their respect for the Bishop 
 who was instrumental to their coming prevented 
 this, — but, to say the least, not very friendly. 
 Bishop Cheverus replied himself, the day after, in 
 the public prints, and demonstrated that the union 
 of twelve persons, who were pleased to live together 
 in the same house without wishing to go abroad, 
 was the most innocent act in the world, in the eye 
 of the law ; and that to wish to prevent their doing 
 * [And this was in Canada. — TV.] 
 
KINDLY RECEIVES THE EXILED TRAPPISTg. 129 
 
 SO would be a direct violation of personal liberty. 
 From that day not a disapproving voice was beard ; 
 the Ursulines were quietly established in Boston, and, 
 in a very short time, received a great number of 
 pupils as boarders ; and the Protestants themselves, 
 convinced of the superior education which young 
 persons received at this institution, wished to place 
 their children there.*" 
 
 Bishop Cheverus possessed such influence, that when 
 he was known to approve of any measure no one ven- 
 tured to oppose it. Some monks of the order of La 
 Trappe, driven from their own country by the Revolu- 
 tion, and learning from report the consideration in which 
 he was held, came to him, with a view of attempting 
 to re-establish their scattered community in his diocese. 
 He received them with his accustomed kindness, lodged 
 them in his own house, and fed them at his own 
 table ; offering them, with a generous and amiable 
 hospitality, for as long a time as they pleased, his 
 services and protection, to enable them to succeed 
 in establishing themselves in the country. But he 
 insisted on the condition, that they should depart 
 somewhat from their rules, which were, in his opinion, 
 incompatible, in many respects, with the extreme rigor 
 
 * In 1834, this convent was burned down"; and wholly de- 
 molished by Protestants, and the incendiaries, being cited 
 before the tribunals, were acquitted! [After Bishop Chev- 
 erus left Boston, the Ursulines transferred their residence to 
 a new convent, built for them in Charlestown, near Boston. 
 It was this building that was burned in 1834. — TV.] 
 
130 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 of the climate.* These pious monks would not con- 
 sent to this, and proceeded to another country. 
 
 Bishop Cheverus, however, notwithstanding the 
 universal respect in which he was held, and the 
 gratifying success that he had thus far met with, 
 passed many days of sadness and hours of grief. 
 For a considerable time, he had observed that his 
 worthy and excellent friend, the Abbe Matignon, was 
 perceptibly declining, and drawing near the tomb. 
 The fear of losing this venerable man, whom he 
 honored as his guide, and loved as a father, was 
 an affliction that increased daily, with the progress 
 of his friend's illness ; and its severity can be con- 
 ceived by those only who have known Bishop Chev- 
 erus, and can appreciate all the tenderness, affection, 
 and sensibility of his soul. On the 19th of September, 
 1818, a day which seemed destined by Providence 
 to be one of peculiar grief to him, the approaches 
 of death were manifest ; he had the firmness to ad- 
 minister the last sacrament to his friend, to be present 
 in his agony, and to close his eyes. In this trying mo- 
 ment, and in all the anguish of his heart, his strength 
 of soul did not forsake him. Unlike those friends, 
 who, listening only to sorrow, and not to the inspi- 
 rations of faith, avoid the obsequies of those they 
 love, he chose to preside himself at the funeral 
 
 * Bishop Cheverus thought that the midnight service of 
 the Trappists, especially, could not be performed in a climate 
 where the cold was so severe. 
 
PAYS THE LAST HONORS TO M. MATIGNON. 131 
 
 ceremonies, and pay the last duties to his worthy 
 friend ; and he wished to do this with a solemnity 
 unprecedented in a Protestant city. The body was 
 borne in procession through the streets of the city, 
 with mournful chants, and he brought up the pro- 
 cession, with the mitre on his head, surrounded by 
 all the Catholics in tears. The inhabitants of Bos- 
 ton respected the funeral ceremonies, unwonted as 
 they were ; and, by their silence and orderly demean- 
 or, showed that they honored the grief of Bishop 
 Cheverus, and the memory of his friend. The 
 greatest order was observed throughout the proces- 
 sion, and one would have said, that, for that day, 
 all Boston was Catholic. The next day, all the 
 journals of the city, instead of taking any exception 
 to these ceremonies, tendered their thanks to Bishop 
 Cheverus for having so good an opinion of the 
 friendly disposition of the people of Boston, and for 
 knowing how to appreciate the profound veneration 
 they felt for his worthy friend. It is difficult to 
 give an idea how sensibly Bishop Cheverus was 
 affected by this honorable conduct. This incident 
 remained engraven on his heart, as one of the most 
 affecting testimonies of interest he had ever received 
 from the people of Boston. 
 
 Nevertheless, from that mournful day Bishop 
 Cheverus seemed a stranger to happiness ; the re- 
 membrance of M. Matignon was continually pres- 
 ent with him, and daily renewed his grief. He felt 
 
132 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 himself alone and desolate, though surrounded by 
 so many persons who tenderly loved him ; and was 
 obliged to perform immense labors, though weighed 
 down by such heavy affliction. His engagements, 
 before so numerous, were rendered doubly arduous by 
 the death of M. Matignon ; as all the ministerial 
 duties performed by that worthy priest devolved upon 
 him. To these multiplied toils was added the asthma, 
 from which he had long suffered some inconvenience, 
 but which now made alarming progress. Still he would 
 not relax in his endeavours to accomplish all the labors 
 before him. He attended to every duty, and seemed 
 to multiply himself that he might meet every de- 
 mand upon him. He admitted two of his pupils to 
 priest's orders, that they might supply his place in 
 Boston, while he was absent on his missionary visi- 
 tations. He went each year, as in the days of his 
 best health, to visit the Penobscot and Passamaquoddy 
 Indians ; and even built them a church on the banks 
 of their river. During the severity of winter and 
 the heats of summer, he was seen, as heretofore, 
 hastening from place to place, wherever there was 
 good to be done, misfortune to be consoled, or the 
 sick to be visited. 
 
 Such arduous exertions soon impaired his health 
 very much, and increased the asthma under which he 
 was laboring, to an alarming degree. The physicians 
 declared to him, that the only way to save his life 
 was to visit a milder climate ; that otherwise the 
 
HIS HEALTH IS IMPAIRED. 133 
 
 severity of the winters at Boston would, in a few 
 years, bring him to the tomb. Notwithstanding the 
 advice of his physicians, his natural desire to be- 
 hold his country and his family again, and the sad- 
 ness which the death of M. JMatlgnon had diffused 
 over his residence in Boston, Bishop Cheverus would 
 not desert his post. Faith had placed him there, 
 and faith kept him there ; and he was determined 
 to die in the new country that had adopted him for 
 a son. He had even marked out his place of sep- 
 ulture beside his illustrious friend M. Matignon, ex- 
 pecting that God would soon call him to himself, and 
 looking with calmness on his anticipated departure 
 from this life. 
 
 But he was called to a trial, which to a soul like 
 his was worse than death, — a state of debility that 
 no longer permitted him to answer all the demands 
 made upon him. Suffering then himself from the 
 sufferings of the mission confided to his care, he 
 thought of resigning his office to some other person, 
 who, with better health, might render his ministry 
 more useful ; and of retiring to the bosom of his 
 family, there to terminate an existence which he be- 
 lieved was approaching its end. He made known 
 what was passing in his mind to some of his friends in 
 France, who urg,ed him to put his design in execution- 
 Still, as he felt the importance of this step, he would 
 not be precipitate ; and for three years he suffered 
 this thought to remain buried in his own breast. 
 12 
 
134 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 At the commencement of the year 1823, he re- 
 ceived a letter from Prince de Croy, Grand-Almoner 
 of France, which announced to him his nomination 
 to the Bishopric of Montauban. M. Hyde de Neu- 
 ville, Ambassador of France in the United States, 
 who had seen with pain the health of the bishop 
 of Boston wasting away, convinced from the opinions 
 of physicians that a more genial climate would re- 
 establish it, and preserve to religion so worthy a 
 prelate, had, on his return to Paris, made known to 
 the King his great worth, inducing this prince to 
 recall him, and restore him to the kingdom, to which 
 by birth he already belonged. Louis the Eighteenth 
 entered warmly into the views of his ambassador, 
 and immediately appointed the Bishop of Boston to 
 the See of Montauban, and directed the grand- 
 almoner to notify him of this appointment. His letter 
 was extremely urgent. " I have every reason to 
 believe," said the grand-almoner to him, "that Di- 
 vine Providence has prompted this arrangement, for 
 its own glory and the good of the church. His 
 Majesty, relying on your readiness to respond to the 
 high confidence he feels in your piety, zeal, and 
 devotion to his person, will be pleased to learn that 
 your departure for Europe will take place imme- 
 diately." The Prince de Croy, on his own part, 
 earnestly entreated him to return without delay, 
 adding, that the Nuncio of his Holiness, at Paris, 
 would take upon himself to see that he was regu- 
 
APPOINTED BISHOP OF MONTAUBAN. 135 
 
 larly dismissed from the bishopric of Boston, and 
 would proceed according to canonical rule with 
 respect to his new See. 
 
 Surprise was the first feeling awakened in the mind 
 of Bishop Cheverus, on the reception of a letter so un- 
 expected ; but this soon gave place to other feelings, 
 which contended in his breast and threw him into a 
 state of violent agitation. The thought of returning to 
 his family, which at first struck him so agreeably, no 
 longer appeared to him so delightful, when he was 
 about to put it in execution. His love of country, the 
 pleasure of his sovereign, and the difficulty of con- 
 tinuing so laborious a mission, all pleaded strongly 
 in favor of France. But then his beloved flock, 
 which he must abandon ; religion, to which he felt, 
 notwithstanding his infirmities, that he might still be 
 useful ; his disconsolate priests, who, when informed 
 of the letter he had received, wished to follow him 
 wherever he should go ; his Ursuline convent, whose 
 very existence he should endanger; and, finally, the 
 tears that would be shed for him ; all these appealed 
 still more powerfully to his heart. This conflict of 
 contending feelings was so violent, that, for several 
 days, he could only weep and pray, without being 
 able to come to a decision. In these trying circum- 
 stances, he consulted the Archbishop of Baltimore 
 and the Sulpicians at Montreal; particularly M. Roux, 
 the superior of the seminary, in whom he placed 
 entire confidence. Their unanimous opinion was, that 
 
13i5 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVEBUS. 
 
 it vyas. l^is duty to remain. This was sufficient to 
 determine; him ; and he wrote immediately to the 
 grand-almoner, to express his gratitude and give the 
 reasons for his refusal. Tliese were the same that 
 he bad before assigned to the Holy See, to prevent 
 his being transferred to the Archbishopric of Balti- 
 more. " In consideration of these reasons," he adds, 
 " M. Marechal was appointed in my stead ; and the 
 church of Baltimore was a gainer by it. I pray 
 that you will make another nomination, from which 
 the church of Montauban wiU reap a simjlj^r advan- 
 tage. If his Majesty will allow me," he goes on to 
 say, " as I beseech him to do, to remain here still 
 longer, this establishment will gain strength, and my 
 flock and the inhabitants of Boston will bless the 
 name of the king of France. They now see daily 
 at. my house the portrait of his Majesty, beside that 
 of his martyred brother; and they would fain be 
 indebted to him for my prolonged residence here. 
 They know that the kings of France have always 
 been disposed to favor missions ; as has been so truly 
 said in the ninth chapter of the fourth book of the 
 ^ Genius of Christianity,' * which I have translated, 
 and read to them from the pulpit. May I venture to 
 hope that his Majesty will pardon me for doing 
 what I believe before God to be my duty." 
 
 The contents of this letter were soon known to the 
 people of Boston, who were all much disturbed and 
 
 * See, at the end of this work, this interesting passage. 
 
PETITION OF THE PEOPLE OF BOSTON. 137 
 
 afflicted by the fear of losing so excellent a pastor ; 
 and, the better to insure its success, more than two 
 hundred of the principal Protestants in the city- 
 added to it their entreaties and petitions. "We re- 
 joice," they say, in their letter, " that the exalted 
 merit of Monseigneur I'Eveque Cheverus is so justly 
 appreciated by your highness, and by his sovereign, 
 and the evidence of his worth is found in the dis- 
 tinguished favor of a nomination to the Bishopric of 
 
 Montauban It is impossible for us to make known 
 
 to you, by any words, how entire, grateful, and be- 
 neficent is the dominion of Bishop Cheverus over all 
 to whom he ministers in his apostolic authority. We 
 hold him to be a blessing and a treasure in our social 
 community, which we cannot part with, and which, 
 without injustice to any man, we may affirm, if with- 
 drawn from us, can never be replaced. If the re- 
 moval to the proposed diocese would be conformable 
 to his wishes, we should mourn over this in silence. 
 If it proceed from your own wishes, and those of his 
 sovereign, to have this truly estimable prelate asso- 
 ciated in the immediate Church of France, it would 
 not become us to attempt to oppose those wishes. 
 But if the removal can be referred to the principle 
 of usefulness, we may safely assume that in no place, 
 nor under any circumstances, can Bishop Cheverus 
 be situated where his influence, whether spiritual, 
 moral, or social, can be so extensive as where he 
 now is." This letter, so honorable to Bishop Chev- 
 12* 
 
138 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 erus, was despatched to Paris at the same time 
 with his own ; but neither the one nor the other re- 
 sl6red peace and happiness to his soul. The sacrifice 
 he had just made of France was a wound still fresh ; 
 and, at the same time, he was apprehensive lest the 
 King should make demands that he must comply with. 
 "My heart is divided," he wrote shortly after to M. 
 Hyde de Neuville ; *' but I think myself obliged, for 
 the good of religion, and even for the honor of the 
 French name, not to desert my post. If you had 
 witnessed the struggles I have endured, if you had 
 known exactly my situation and that of my diocese, 
 you would pardon my refusal, I am sure of it. In 
 my letter to the grand-almoner I have stated the 
 reasons that prompted it ; and I shall not feel happy 
 until I learn they are satisfactory." 
 
 Bishop Cheverus, however, did not reveal all that 
 was passing in his own breast ; he appeared calm, 
 and seemed to think only of re-assuring his beloved 
 Catholics and his numerous friends ; he promised that 
 he would not abandon them, and continued his labors 
 as far as his strength allowed him. The dreaded 
 letter soon arrived. The King would not accept his 
 refusal, and directed his grand-almoner to insist 
 strongly on his prompt return to France. The 
 gtaiid-almoner immediately wrote a second letter to 
 Bishop Cheverus, in which he urged, 1st. The ex- 
 press will of the King, who summoned him, a second 
 time, to return as soon as possible, and take charge 
 
HE ACCEPTS THE APPOINTMENT. 139 
 
 of the diocese of Montauban. 2dly. The state of his 
 health, which had first induced him to think of re- 
 turning to France ; '' and I am informed,^^ said he, 
 ^^hat this reason continues in full forceJ^ 3dly. Mo- 
 tives drawn from the present situation of the clergy 
 in France. " Your great distance from us," he said, 
 " prevents you, doubtless, from forming an exact idea 
 of this situation, of the diminution of our resources, 
 after such protracted troubles, and how few persons 
 we iiave among us qualified to hold the higher offices. 
 I have, moreover, looked upon your return as a 
 blessing of Providence, and as an alleviation vouch- 
 safed to me amid my numerous anxieties. " He 
 alleged the deep aflliction his refusal had caused, 
 the displeasure the King would feel if his expec- 
 tations were disappointed, and the designs of Heaven, 
 which he must recognise in this concurrence of cir- 
 cumstances ; and concluded by urging him to hasten 
 his departure. 
 
 Bishop Cheverus felt that it was impossible for 
 him to resist these urgent entreaties; he thought he 
 discovered in them the hand of Providence ; more 
 particularly as the physicians had just declared that 
 his health could not endure another winter in the se- 
 vere climate of Boston. His choice was made ; but 
 it cost him many pangs. To leave Boston was 
 like rending his heart in twain ; it was a partial 
 death. And, as if he regarded the day of his de- 
 parture as the day of his death, he wished before 
 
] 40 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 it arrived, according to his own expression, " to execute 
 his wilV^ He gave to the diocese the church, the* 
 episcopal residence, and the Ursuhne convent, which 
 were his property. He left to the bishops who should 
 succeed him his library, which consisted of standard 
 works, and which he parted with most reluctantly. 
 Finally, he distributed all the rest of his possessions 
 among his ecclesiastics, his friends, and the poor ; and 
 as he had come to Boston a poor man, he chose to 
 depart poor, with no other wealth than the same trunk 
 which, twenty-seven years before, he had brought with 
 him. He even wished to leave behind him his chalice, 
 his cups, and his crucifix ; and he did not conclude to 
 take them, until it was observed that they had be- 
 longed to his family. 
 
 The people of Boston were moved to tears to see 
 him thus strip himself of every thing ; and many of 
 them testified, by acts of the noblest generosity, how 
 much it affected them. One of the most remark- 
 able instances of this was in the case of a grocer, 
 who, by many years of frugality and industry, had at 
 length amassed about twelve hundred dollars. This 
 excellent man brought this fruit of his savings to Bish- 
 op Cheverus, begging him to accept it; "because," said 
 he, *' after you have thus deprived yourself of every 
 thing for us, I fear lest you should be in want yourself ; 
 and if I could suppose this to be the case, it would 
 embitter my whole life." Bishop Cheverus could 
 hardly make his refusal seem consistent with the grat- 
 
UNIVERSAL LAMENTATION ON HIS DEPARTURE. 141 
 
 itude which was manifested by his tears and his ex- 
 treme emotion. Entertaining the same apprehension 
 as the generous man of whom we have just spoken, 
 the principal inhabitants of Boston, Protestant as well 
 as Cathohc, subscribed to a large amount, and came 
 in a body to declare to M. Cheverus that this sum 
 was entirely at his disposal ; that, from that moment, 
 he could use it as his own, and that afterward he could 
 draw^ as he had need upon this fund, which was his 
 own, and which should never be exhausted any more 
 than their gratitude. This generous conduct affected 
 Bishop Cheverus beyond expression ; but, at the same 
 lime, added to the poignancy of his grief in parting 
 with men so kind and so devoted to him. 
 
 From all quarters adieus, expressions of regret, 
 and testimonials of interest poured in upon him, and 
 inflicted on his heart additional pangs. " Oh ! my 
 God," wrote the Archbishop of Baltimore to him,* 
 *' what will become of the American church ? al- 
 though settled at a great distance from me, you were, 
 next to God, my greatest dependence. Will it be 
 possible for me to govern this province of the church 
 after your departure ? " The journals, even those 
 of the Protestants, expressed equal regret. " This 
 worthy dignitary of the Roman Catholic church," 
 say they, " has been with us nearly thirty years, 
 and during this period he has enjoyed the confidence 
 and respect of all classes of people. The amenity of 
 
 * Monseigneur Mar^chal was then Archbishop of Balti- 
 
142 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 his manners as a gentleman, his accomphshments as 
 a scholar, his tolerant disposition as a religious teacher, 
 and his pure and apostolic life, have been our theme of 
 praise ever since we have known him. We regret his 
 departure as a public loss." * There was not a single 
 individual, even to the jailer, who did not lament the 
 loss of this most worthy pastor. He came in tears to 
 bid him adieu. The Bishop said to him, with his 
 accustomed kindness, " All who leave you are delight- 
 ed to get away from you ; such is not the case with 
 me ; I leave you with regret, and I shall always re- 
 member your kind treatment towards the poor pris- 
 oners. " The Catholics, as may well be supposed, 
 were not the last to express to him their grief. This 
 they did in an affecting address, from which we can 
 give here only a few extracts. "Dear father," say 
 they, "permit your flock penetrated and subdued by 
 grief, to place before you an humble offering of grati- 
 tude and affection. Your departure, which has now 
 become certain, is to us a most afflicting dispensation of 
 Providence ; and the event has inflicted a wound, 
 whose anguish time may assuage, but can never heal. 
 
 As a religious community, we were connected 
 
 and consolidated under your auspices ; and by your 
 watchings and your prayers we have enjoyed the 
 smiles of an indulgent Heaven ; but at this solemn 
 moment of parting, probably for ever, the memory of 
 the dead crowds upon us, in the loved form of him, 
 who gathered us as a flock, and who with you walked 
 
 * [Boston Commercial Gazette, Sept. 22d, 1823.] 
 

 ADDRESS OF THE CATHOLICS^, ^ ' 
 
 hand in hand, laboring for our good ; but tTiis kind 
 pastor to us, this coadjutor and friend to you, the ever 
 lamented Matignon, has passed to a better world, to 
 
 receive the reward of the faithful and the just 
 
 At this crisis, when the agony of separation is fast 
 coming upon us, we cannot entirely stifle our feelings, 
 and we must, and we will, amidst our tears and 
 lamentations, catch hold of your garments as you turn 
 to leave us, and utter some faint cry of your services 
 and our attachment. You have fed the hungry and 
 clothed the naked ; brought back the wandering ; re- 
 claimed the vicious ; shared the joys of the happy ; 
 softened the pains of the suffering ; held the medi- 
 cinal cup to the sick and parched lip ; and taught the 
 dying that, through faith and repentance, he might 
 repose his hopes on the bosom of redeeming love. 
 You have come down, as it were, from the altar of 
 God, to the common offices of mankind, to give us 
 counsel and direction in our temporal concerns. We 
 believe it seldom happens, that one so devoted to 
 things divine, should be so wise in the business of the 
 world ; but this wisdom has not been shown by col- 
 lecting perishable riches for yourself, but in striving 
 to increase intelligence, comfort, and respectability, 
 
 among the people of your charge May the 
 
 mild climate of Montauban restore and confirm your 
 health, and awaken your spirits to life and happiness; 
 and may God, in his mercy and goodness, continue 
 you for many years, a name and a praise in the 
 church. And when you shall sleep with your fathers. 
 
144 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and be numbered with the great and the good of other 
 times, may our descendants here learn that your bles- 
 sing fell upon your first, as on your second love ; and 
 that Boston and Montauban were remembered togeth- 
 er in your dying benediction." 
 
 Bishop Cheverus was deeply affected on reading 
 this address, and replied to it immediately, in the 
 most affectionate manner. "Your kind address has 
 been presented to me, and is wet with my tears. How 
 unwilling I am to leave you, I hope you all know, and 
 have seen how gladly I refused, last May, the ap- 
 pointment which I must now accept Excuse my 
 
 faults in the exercise of my ministry ; pray that they 
 may be forgiven by the Supreme Pastor My be- 
 loved children, I press you all to my paternal bosom. 
 I wish, and still have some hopes, to come to you 
 again, and indulge the comforting hope that we shall 
 be united in the kingdom of our Heavenly Father." 
 
 But Bishop Cheverus could not, in a letter, pour 
 forth the feelings of a heart overflowing with tender- 
 ness for his beloved flock. The Sunday before his 
 departure, he ascended the pulpit, and there, to an 
 audience as numerous as the church could contain, 
 pronounced his last adieus, and gave his last advice 
 to his flock ; and thanked even the Protestants, many 
 of whom were present, for the affection and kindness 
 they had manifested towards him during his residence 
 in Boston. Nothino; could be more touchinor than 
 this discourse ; a most affectionate heart had dictated 
 erery word of it, and the voice of the speaker, broken 
 
HIS PARTING FROM 1113 FRIENDS. 145 
 
 by strong emotion, gave it the most thrilling interest. 
 On the other hand, all the hearers were strongly- 
 affected, and the tears and sobs of great numbers an- 
 nounced that the most sacred and tender ties were 
 about to be severed. The moment of his departure 
 soon arrived, and Bishop Cheverus then received a 
 new and glorious evidence of the attachment felt for 
 him. More than three hundred coaches united in 
 forming his escort, and accompanied him several miles 
 on his way to New York,* where he was to embark. 
 But they must part at last ; they hung on his neck, 
 burst into tears, he and they sobbed aloud, and it 
 would be difficult to say which party felt the most 
 poignant grief. 
 
 Thus took place a separation most painful on both 
 sides ; but their hearts were never disunited. Bishop 
 Cheverus left behind him a name that will live for 
 ever ; a reputation that will always be glorious for 
 the church. The reader will see, with pleasure, how 
 a Protestant minister. Dr. Channing,f speaks of him 
 several years afterwards. " Has not the metropolis 
 
 * [This is thought to be a mistake. Bishop Cheverus, it is 
 believed, left Boston in a stage-coach unattended by any escort, 
 though twice this number of coaches would have attended 
 him, had he desired or allowed it. — TV.] 
 
 f [In the Christian Examiner, a periodical work published 
 in Boston. The above extract is found in a Review of the 
 Life of Fenelon, by Dr. Channing. — Tr.] 
 13 
 
146 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 of New England," says this minister, " witnessed a 
 sublime example of Christian virtue in a Catholic 
 bishop ? Who among our religious teachers would 
 solicit a comparison between himself and the devoted 
 Cheverus? This good man, whose virtues and tal- 
 ents have now raised him to high dignities in church 
 and state, who now wears in his own country the 
 joint honors of an Archbishop and a Peer, lived in 
 the midst of us, devoting his days and nights, and 
 his whole heart, to the service of a poor and uned- 
 ucated congregation. We saw him declining, in a 
 great degree, the society of the cultivated and re- 
 fined, that he might be the friend of the ignorant 
 and friendless ; leaving the circles of polished life, 
 which he would have graced, for the meanest hovels ; 
 bearing with a father's sympathy the burdens and 
 sorrows of his large spiritual family ; charging himself 
 alike with their temporal and spiritual concerns ; and 
 never discovering, by the faintest indication, that he 
 felt his fine mind degraded by his seemingly humble 
 office. This good man, bent on his errands of mercy, 
 was seen in our streets under the most burning sun 
 of summer, and the fiercest storms of winter, as if 
 armed against the elements by the power of charity. 
 He has left us ; but not to be forgotten. He enjoys 
 among us what to such a man must be dearer than 
 fame. His name is cherished, where the great of 
 this world are unknown. It is pronounced with bless- 
 
HE EMBARKS AT NEW YORK. 147 
 
 ings, with grateful tears, with sighs for his return, in 
 many an abode of sorrow and want." 
 
 From this high praise, so honorable to the memory 
 of Bishop Cheverus, the Protestant minister deduces 
 consequences which it concerns us to notice. "How," 
 he continues, *• can we shut our hearts against this 
 proof of the power of the CathoHc rehgion to form 
 good and great men ?" " It is time that greater justice 
 were done to this ancient and wide-spread communi- 
 ty. The CathoHc church has produced some of the 
 greatest and best men that ever Hved, and this is 
 proof enough of its possessing all the means of sal- 
 vation." 
 
 Such is the memory, honorable to religion and the 
 church, that Bishop Cheverus has left in Boston ; 
 and it accounts sufficiently for the regret his depar- 
 ture occasioned, and the honors that the people wish- 
 ed to pay him on that occasion. 
 
 He embarked at New York, on the 1st of Octo- 
 ber, 1823, accompanied by a French ecclesiastic, 
 M. Morainville, who had for a long time exercised 
 the ministerial office in the United States, and whose 
 impaired health forced him to return to Europe. 
 During the passage, Bishop Cheverus charmed the 
 captain and all the passengers by the kindness and 
 affability of his manners. Among them were men of 
 all religions, Calvinists, Lutherans, Anabaptists, So- 
 cinians ; and many, even, of no religion at all. Yet 
 they all joined in the request that he would preach 
 
148 LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 to them ; and, every Sunday, he prayed with them, 
 and read the Gospel, which he accompanied with 
 remarks adapted to the wants of his auditors. All 
 listened with attention and respect ; and, accustomed 
 as they were to hate the Catholic religion, they were 
 surprised to hear themselves called by the tender ap- 
 pellation of beloved brethren^ which that religion, which 
 is love itself, teaches us to apply to all men. He often 
 preached also during the week, and directed their atten- 
 tion to their Creator in heaven, " whose eye followed 
 them," he said, '-across this immense waste of waters." 
 It was, indeed, very evident that Providence did watch 
 over them. Until they reached the mouth of the 
 Channel, the voyage had been extremely prosperous ; 
 and they flattered themselves they should arrive at 
 Havre the next day, when they were suddenly assailed 
 by a most violent tempest. The captain, after hav- 
 ing struggled a long time against the fury of the 
 winds and the violence of the waves, seeing all his 
 efforts useless, and the vessel, having lost its rud- 
 der, borne violently towards the rocks that bordered 
 the coast, sought the Bishop of Boston, and warned 
 him of the danger, as possessing most firmness of soul, 
 and the best able to sustain the courage of the other 
 passengers. " There are a thousand chances to one," 
 he said, " that we are lost." The danger soon be- 
 came more imminent ; the ship was opposite two per- 
 pendicular rocks, between which there was only a nar- 
 row passage. The captain hesitated ; he knew not 
 
• HIS ALMOST MIRACULOUS ESCAPE FROM DEATH. 149 
 
 what to do. For fifteen hours he had been strug- 
 gling between hfe and death, and night would soon 
 close in, and envelope them in darkness. In his de- 
 spair, he decided to attempt the perilous passage, and, 
 at all hazards, to run the ship upon the coast. This 
 resolution was desperate; it presented a thousand 
 chances of death ; but, in the extremity of the case, 
 nothing else could be done. He made known his de- 
 termination to Bishop Cheverus, who warned the pas- 
 sengers to hold themselves in readiness for any event, 
 gave absolution to the Catholics, invited all to pray 
 to the Sovereign Master of life and death, and 
 prayed himself with fervor. In the mean time the 
 ship advanced, a frightful crash was heard, the rock 
 had pierced through the ship, the water rushed in 
 on every side, and all believed themselves lost. 
 But, happily, the passage was cleared, the sea reced- 
 ed, and very little water was left on the slope of 
 the rock where the vessel struck. There was no 
 longer any danger. The captain, recovering from 
 his affright, threw himself, weeping, on the neck of 
 the Bishop. " Sir," said he, " your prayers have 
 saved us; we all owe our lives to you." The Bish- 
 op spoke words of encouragement to all the passen- 
 gers, many of whom, being restored as it were from 
 death to life, fainted from excess of surprise and joy. 
 These he took in his arms, and bore to the shore ; 
 and no serious injury happened to any one. This 
 event is the more remarkable, as, of all the ships ex- 
 13* 
 
150 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 posed to this tempest in the same place, that which 
 held the Bishop of Boston was the only one saved ; 
 all the others perished, both vessel and cargo. Thus 
 Bishop Cheverus, having escaped shipwreck in a 
 manner that he himself called miraculous, * touched 
 the soil of France, thirty-one years from the time he 
 had left it. 
 
 * " The merciful God has saved us in a miraculous man- 
 ner,''^ he wrote to his family, on the 3d of November, of the 
 same year. 
 
PROCEEDS TO AUDERVILLE AND CHERBOUEG. 151 
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 
 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS, FROM HIS RETURN TO FRANCE, 
 IN 1823, TO THE REVOLUTION OF JULY, 1830. 
 
 France at length had possession of Bishop Chev- 
 erus, and the news of his arrival was as precious 
 and delightful to all who knew him, as his own 
 emotions were tender on again finding himself in 
 his native country. He went directly to Auderville, 
 the seat of the nearest church, there to celebrate 
 the festival of All Saints, which occurred on the 
 day after his arrival. Exhausted by fatigue, he 
 could then only perform low mass ; but on the 
 following day, which was Sunday, he officiated at 
 high mass, and preached at vespers. On Monday, 
 he received the visits of all the clergy of the neigh- 
 bourhood, who, informed of his arrival by public 
 report, lost no time in coming to pay their respects 
 to so venerated a prelate ; and, on Tuesday the 
 4th of November, he set off for Cherbourg. He 
 was received with marks of respect in all the par- 
 ishes through which he passed, and compelled to 
 stop, from time to time, to afford both pastors and 
 people the happiness they earnestly desired, of en- 
 
152 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 joying his presence for a few moments, and of re- 
 ceiving his blessing. He reached Cherbourg towards 
 evening, and w^ent to the presbytery, where fifteen 
 ecclesiastics were assembled, at a session of the the- 
 ological conferences, which Monseigneur the Bish- 
 op of Coutances had recently established in his di- 
 ocese. He was introduced into the hall of confer- 
 ence, and, on the instant, all the priests, dehghted 
 to see him and feeling the deepest respect for him, 
 fell on their knees to receive his benediction. It 
 would be impossible to describe the emotion of 
 the Bishop at this sight. To find himself, for the 
 first time after an absence of thirty years, in so nu- 
 merous an assembly of French ecclesiastics, many of 
 whom even had been his companions in exile, and 
 to see them all on their knees at his feet ! It was 
 enough to affect a soul less susceptible than his. This 
 spectacle was more than he could bear; he could 
 not restrain his tears ; he blessed them, and embraced 
 them all with tenderness. 
 
 The news of his arrival spread rapidly through 
 Cherbourg ; and immediately the Viscount de Co- 
 nillac, governor of the city, the Marquis de Frotte, 
 sub-prefect, all the civil authorities, as well as all the 
 clergy, hastened to pay him their respects. The 
 first went so far as to offer him, not in his own name, 
 but, with still more delicacy, in the name of the 
 King of France, Louis the Eighteenth, any pecuniary 
 assistance he might need in consequence of his ship- 
 
PROCEEDS TO PARIS. 153 
 
 wreck. Bishop Cheverus, who had just enough to 
 defray the expenses of his journey, was not willing 
 to accept this offer, and resisted all the kind entreaties 
 made him to that effect. He was more easily per- 
 suaded on another point. The whole city wished 
 to receive some evangelical instruction from his lips ; 
 this wish was communicated to him, and he was 
 conjured to grant it ; and the pleasure of hearing 
 him in the pulpit was solicited as a favor which 
 they should most highly value. This proposition at 
 first embarrassed Bishop Cheverus ; since, not hav- 
 ing preached in French for the last thirty years, 
 except two or three times during his travels in Can- 
 ada, and recently at the village of Auderville, the 
 language had become to him like a foreign one, and 
 he dared not trust himself before a large audience. 
 But, as he could not refuse any favor, especially to 
 those who had been so kind to him, he went into 
 the pulpit, and, except a few Anglicisms that now 
 and then escaped him, acquitted himself with as much 
 ease and grace of elocution as if he had never spoken 
 any but his mother tongue. 
 
 The next day he left Cherbourg, and proceeded 
 directly to Paris. There, after having paid his re- 
 spects to the King, who received him in a manner 
 particularly kind, and confirmed to him his settled 
 purpose to make him Bishop of Montauban, he found 
 himself besieged by eager visitants and flattering in- 
 vitations. All contended for the pleasure and honor 
 
154 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 of his company. On the one hand, his old comrades 
 of Louis-le-Grand, his friends at college and the 
 seminary, wished to celebrate his happy return. On 
 the other, various churches and religious institutions 
 aspired to the happiness of hearing him preach. 
 We will mention, among others, the Seminary of 
 Saint Nicholas, where, being complimented by the 
 students in Latin, he replied in the same language, 
 with the same purity of style and elegance of thought, 
 which, thirty-one years before, had gained him so 
 ranch admiration at the Sorbonne ; the Seminary of 
 Issy also, where, being invited to preside at a re- 
 ligious ceremony, on the 21st of November, he spoke 
 to the students in a spirit of piety, and with a warmth 
 of zeal, truly apostolical ; and finally, the Association 
 of Saint Joseph, for the benefit of poor laborers, 
 where he addressed to hard-working indigence words 
 of consolation and well-timed counsel. 
 
 The pleasure which the Bishop of Boston enjoyed 
 in Paris, in seeing again so many endeared friends, 
 and scenes that recalled so many delightful recol- 
 lections, was cruelly counterbalanced by news that 
 filled his heart with profound sorrow. A sister whom 
 he loved with peculiar tenderness,* and was rejoic- 
 ing in the hope of seeing and embracing once more, 
 had been taken from the world ; God had called 
 her to himself, full of grace and of good works. 
 
 * Madame George, of whom we have spoken in the com- 
 mencement of this work. 
 
GOES TO MAYENNE. 155 
 
 Bishop Cheverus felt this stroke severely ; but still 
 he endured it with resignation and fortitude, and set 
 out soon after for Mayenne, his native cily, which 
 he yearned to behold. He made his arrangements 
 not to arrive there till eight o'clock in the evening, 
 hoping by the lateness of the hour to avoid the 
 honors of a reception ; but he had scarce entered the 
 city, before the good news of his arrival spread in 
 every direction ; the ringing of bells announced it to 
 all the inhabitants ; a spontaneous illumination ap- 
 peared as he passed along ; crowds of people press- 
 ing around him, with lighted torches in their hands, 
 and uttering exclamations of joy, accompanied him 
 to his brother's house. The next day, the clergy, 
 wishing to indemnify themselves for the privation they 
 had suffered on the evening previous, went in proces- 
 sion to the house where Bishop Cheverus was, and 
 conducted him under a canopy to the church, arrayed 
 in his pontifical robes ; and, in front of the principal 
 door, they made him a complimentary address, applying 
 to him the language of the Jewish people to Judith ; 
 "You are the glory of our country : Tu honorificentia 
 populi nostri.^' A solemn Te Deum was chanted, 
 as an expression of gratitude for his happy return ; 
 and, after the ceremony, all the authorities of the 
 city came to pay him their respects. Several ad- 
 dresses were made to him, and his replies to them 
 all were very courteous and animated. 
 
156 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Two days after, he preached in the church of 
 Notre Dame. The curate of this parish had died 
 the preceding Friday. This curate was M. Souge, 
 the friend of his childhood, and his companion in 
 exile when he left Mayenne, and for some time in 
 England. He wished to honor his memory by pro- 
 nouncing his funeral oration. The subject of his 
 eulogy was a priest distinguished alike for virtue 
 and talent ; and he spoke his praises with all the 
 interest that such a subject was calculated to in- 
 spire, and all the sensibility of the most affection- 
 ate heart, expecting to embrace his friend, but find- 
 ing only his cold remains. This first discourse of 
 the Bishop awakened in his auditors a desire to 
 listen to others ; and, as it was so painful to him to 
 refuse, he acceded to all their requests : which were 
 as numerous as it was possible for him to comply, 
 with. That is, they wished him to preach every 
 Sunday and holyday, and even every morning and 
 evening for several days, at the exercises of a retreat. 
 They were never satisfied with listening to him ; 
 the whole city thronged to hear him preach, and 
 caught every word with enthusiasm. Even those 
 who before affected to contemn the divine word 
 evinced the same eagerness to attend on his teach- 
 ing, and always went away more charmed with the 
 preacher, more interested in religion, and less pre- 
 judiced against it. 
 
 To all this preaching, Bishop Cheverus, still truly 
 
HIS LABORS AT MAYENNE. 157 
 
 apostolical, at Mayenne as in Boston, added other 
 labors. He restored peace and harmony in many 
 families, terminated their dissensions, and effected 
 reconciliations. He was to be seen wherever there 
 was good to be done, misfortune to solace, or con- 
 solation to be administered. The Sisters of the 
 Visitation, the patients at the hospital, the inmates of 
 the prison, all saw him, listened to him, admired him, 
 and shared his kindness. Being informed one day that 
 a priest, w^ho was so far unfaithful to his engagements 
 as to unite a secular mode of life with the sanctity 
 of his profession, would willingly receive a visit from 
 him, he went to him immediately, conversed with 
 him respecting his conduct, and, after several con- 
 versations, had the happiness to see him open his 
 eyes to the light, and become reconciled to God and 
 the church. This conversion was only a prelude to 
 another, still more delightful to his heart. There 
 was at Mayenne a celebrated physician, an honorable 
 man in the view of the world, even a believer in 
 religion, of which he was not ignorant, but unhap- 
 pily little careful to fulfil its duties. He became 
 dangerously ill ; no one dared to speak to him of 
 seeing a priest. Some one made known this difficul- 
 ty to Bishop Cheverus, adding, that he was per- 
 suaded, if he would have the goodness to go and see 
 the sick man, although a stranger to him, his visit would 
 gratify him, and might be the means of preparing 
 him to receive the last sacrament, and die the death 
 14 
 
158 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 of a Christian. The Bishop went immediately to 
 the house of the sick man, and spoke to him with 
 that affection and touching kindness which no one 
 could resist. The sick man, softened and grateful, 
 begged the Bishop to grant him the favor of hearing 
 his confession ; after which he received the last sa- 
 crament with sentiments of the most sincere piety. 
 Happy influence of religion to comfort and sustain 
 the soul which is about to leave all it loved ! The 
 sick man, who before appeared sad and uneasy, now 
 seemed calm and tranquil. From that moment until 
 his death, appreciating the value of his reconciliation 
 with God, he never ceased to bless Heaven for send- 
 ing an angel to open to him the gates of Paradise. 
 Bishop Cheverus, on his part, moved even to tears 
 by a repentance so sincere, devoted himself to him 
 as to a friend acquired on the brink of the tomb ; 
 and this event, as he has often said since, afforded 
 him the sweetest recollection he retained of his 
 sojourn at Mayenne. 
 
 While the Bishop of Boston, in the bosom of his 
 family, was thus devoting himself to the labors of a 
 truly apostolical zeal, he received a letter from the 
 Grand- Almoner, which recalled him suddenly to Paris. 
 The bishops of America, dismayed at the immense 
 loss which religion would sustain in the United States, 
 should Bishop Cheverus remain permanently in 
 France, and deeply sensible of her need of a priest 
 whose virtues and talents gave him such a powerful in- 
 
THE POPE WISHES HIM TO RETURN TO BOSTON. 159 
 
 fluence, had written to Rome, to supplicate the 
 Holy See not to permit so great a calamity. The 
 Sovereign Pontiff had consequently requested the 
 King of France to make another nomination for 
 Montauban, and written to Bishop Cheverus to in- 
 duce him to return to Boston. *' When I think," he 
 said to him, " of what advantage your episcopal labors 
 have already been to the American church; what 
 grace the Holy Spirit has bestowed upon you, not 
 only to establish firmly the Catholic faith in the di- 
 ocese of Boston, and gain for it new converts, but 
 also to serve the church in the other dioceses of the 
 United States, and win the esteem of heretics them- 
 selves ; I cannot conceal from you my very great fear 
 that your translation may be a serious calamity to 
 the American church."* This letter threw Bishop 
 Cheverus into a state of most painful uncertainty. 
 On the one hand, being a dutiful subject of the Holy 
 See, he wished to obey ; besides, Boston was still 
 so dear to his heart that he could not hear it named 
 without tears. On the other hand, he perceived 
 
 ■'^"Ubi mecum ipse reputo quanto cum Americanas ecclesiae 
 bono episcopatum Bostoniensem hue usque gesseris, quantam- 
 que tibi Spiritus S. gratiam contulerit, ut non modo fidei 
 catholicsB in Bostoniensi dioecesi confirmandse augendoque 
 catholicorum numero par evaseris, veriim etiam ecclesiae in 
 caeteris fcederatorum statuum dioecesibus utilitati fueris, ab 
 ipsisque haereticis observantise argumenta receperis, non pos- 
 sum non apert^ fateri me vehementer timere ne si translatio 
 ista contingat, id gravissimo ecclesisB darano in America sit 
 futurura." 
 
160 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 many difficulties in the way of retracing so decided 
 a step as his departure from America. He merely 
 stated them in a respectful reply ; representing, 
 1st. That his health was so much impaired, that he 
 could neither endure the labors of so toilsome a 
 mission, nor the severity of so cold a climate. 
 2d. That he possessed nothing, either in Boston, 
 where he had given away all he had, before his 
 departure, or in France, where he had no patri- 
 mony ; and that he was entirely destitute of pecu- 
 niary resources, not having enough even to defray 
 the expense of the passage. He therefore implored 
 his Holiness not to appoint him to Montauban, which 
 appointment he had never desired, but to sanction his 
 dismission from the diocese of Boston, and allow him 
 to terminate, in retirement, in the bosom of his fam- 
 ily, a life which he thought was threatened with 
 a speedy end. Or, should he object to this, he 
 requested that he would allow him an assistant, 
 an ecclesiastic whom he named ; adding, that his 
 Holiness, after making the experiment of a provis- 
 ional administration, could hereafter pronounce upon 
 the necessity of his return, and would always find 
 him ready to obey. To these representations the 
 French court added its urgent entreaties, and the 
 Pope no longer insisted ; the bulls for Montauban 
 were despatched. 
 
 While these negotiations were pending, Bishop 
 Cheverus did not intermit his endeavours to be useful, 
 nor the efforts of his zeal, whenever occasion offered. 
 
PREACHES IN THE CHURCH OF ST. SULPICIUS. 161 
 
 The second Sunday after Easter, his friend M. de 
 Pierre, curate of St. Sulpicius, invited him to preach 
 in his church. The desire to hear so distinguished 
 a prelate attracted a numerous and an illustrious au- 
 dience ; among whom were the Grand-Almoner, many- 
 bishops and peers of France, and other nobles of the 
 kingdom. Everybody expected an eloquent and 
 elaborate discourse. Bishop Cheverus, v^^ho in all 
 things aimed only at what was most useful, confined 
 himself to simple and familiar, but touching and 
 practical instructions, upon the good example men- 
 tioned in the Epistle for the day ; and when it was 
 remarked to him, after the sermon, how many great 
 personages had come to hear him, he replied, with 
 simplicity, "I knew nothing of it ; but if I had known 
 it, I should not have given them any better fare;" 
 thus evincing how foreign to him was every feeling 
 of self-love and vanity, and all thought of seeking 
 renown. To do good was his only ambition. He 
 even seemed to multiply himself, that he might im- 
 prove every occasion of this kind that offered. Thus, 
 on the day of Pentecost, after having performed mass 
 in a church in Paris, he went to perform the office 
 of assistant bishop at the consecration of Monseigneur 
 de Janson, at Mont Valerien ; and thence returned 
 to preach the sermon at vespers in the church of 
 St. Sulpicius. This sermon, although extempora- 
 neous, was very remarkable. In it he represented 
 how, on that day, the Holy Spirit had founded the 
 14* 
 
 :i.x»v. 
 
162 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 church, with its four great characteristics ; making it 
 one, by the union of minds and hearts ; holy, by the 
 exalted virtues of the first Christians ; Catholic, by 
 the conversion of men of every nation, who were at 
 Jerusalem, as so many deputies from the different 
 countries of the earth ; and apostolical, by the sub- 
 mission of all the faithful to the instruction and the 
 authority of the Apostles. 
 
 So many pious labors were not in vain ; and Bishop 
 Cheverus could indulge the dehghtful thought, that, 
 should the Pope accede to his request to be allowed 
 to pass the remainder of his life in retirement, he 
 could still render himself useful. " I will then go," 
 he wrote, " and throw myself at the feet of the 
 King, assure him of my devotion to his sacred per- 
 son ; after which I will bury myself in retirement, 
 where I shall never cease to pray for his Majesty, 
 and to preach both by words and example, as far as 
 my strength will permit, the love of religion and of 
 the best of kings. Already, since my return to my 
 own country, I have seen with satisfaction that my 
 efforts can yet contribute to the support of the altar 
 and of the legitimate throne, a sacred cause, to which 
 I have all my life been devoted." 
 
 But Providence had already ordered differently 
 for him ; the bulls from Rome had reached Paris, 
 and were in the hands of the Council of State, and 
 Bishop Cheverus expected every moment to receive 
 them, when a new and very strange difficulty arose 
 
BECOMES BISHOP OP MONTAUBAN. 163 
 
 to delay their transmission to him. It was pretended, 
 that, having been naturalized as an American citizen, 
 and having been absent from France for more than thirty- 
 years, he could no longer be considered a French- 
 man, nor, consequently, be promoted to a See in that 
 kingdom. Bishop Cheverus, offended to find his title 
 to the name of Frenchman disputed, wrote immedi- 
 ately to the minister, that, if the King of France, 
 after having recalled him as his subject, now refused 
 to recognise him as such, he would leave Paris the 
 next morning, and for ever renounce the Bishopric of 
 Montauban. His decision put an end to the diffi- 
 culty at once ; the bulls were recorded immediately, 
 and sent the same evening to the Bishop, who was 
 at length recognised as a Frenchman. 
 
 From the moment the papal bulls were in the pos- 
 session of Bishop Cheverus, he lived only for his dio- 
 cese. The first object he proposed to himself, was 
 the organization of his seminary ; convinced that on this 
 depended the perpetuity of the priesthood, ecclesi- 
 astical learning and piety, and, in a word, the future 
 prosperity of the diocese. With this view, he applied 
 to the society of the priests of St. Sulpicius, whom 
 he had loved and venerated from his youth, but with 
 whom especially he had maintained the most intimate 
 relations during his residence in America. He wished 
 very much to confide to them the direction of his 
 seminary ; and M. Duclaux, who was then Superior of 
 this society, was equally desirous to take charge of 
 
164 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 it, from his respect for the worth of such a bishop, 
 and his gratitude for the services he had rendered 
 the Sulpicians in America. But their society could 
 not furnish suitable persons, and he was obliged, 
 though with regret, to refuse his request. Bishop 
 Cheverus was more fortunate in his application to 
 the priests of St. Vincent de Paul, known under the 
 name of Lazarists, and obtained from them the di- 
 rectors he desired. This arrangement relieved him 
 from a burden that weighed heavily upon him; for 
 it was his firm conviction, that a seminary could be 
 conducted properly, only by the members of a re- 
 ligious community, devoted by their profession to this 
 arduous life ; who should be permanent, also, and 
 without any expectation of promotion to ecclesias- 
 tical preferments and dignities. 
 
 Freed from this care, with the approbation of 
 the government, he chose for his grand vicars two 
 priests of his new diocese, who deservedly enjoyed 
 in the highest degree universal confidence ; and with- 
 out delay set out for Montauban. On the 27th 
 of July, he arrived at Moissac, the second city of 
 his diocese, and was received there with indescriba- 
 ble enthusiasm and demonstrations of joy and respect. 
 He left this city at six o'clock the next morning, 
 after having celebrated mass ; and encountered on 
 the road to Montauban the Prefect and the General, 
 who had come to meet him with an immense crowd 
 of people, eager to see him ; and, at the entrance 
 
HIS ARRIVAL IN HIS DIOCESE. 165 
 
 of the city, the clergy, the municipal corps, and the 
 deputies of the various religious corporations were as- 
 sembled under tents prepared for his reception. After 
 having been greeted by the Mayor in the name of the 
 city, and by the Abbe de Trelissac, his grand vicar, 
 in the name of the clergy, he made his solemn entry 
 into Montauban, in his pontifical robes, to the sound 
 of salutes of artillery and strains of harmonious music 
 mingled with sacred hymns, attended by a numer- 
 ous clergy, the different religious corporations, sol- 
 diers in full uniform, and an innumerable multitude 
 of Catholics, whose countenances were all expressive 
 of joy and happiness. When he arrived before the 
 door of the cathedral, he threw himself on his knees 
 to invoke the divine benediction upon his church, 
 his flock, and his official career. After a fervent 
 prayer, he entered the church, deeply moved ; and, 
 having gone into the pulpit, he exclaimed, in a voice 
 trembling with emotion, " What happiness 1 feel, my 
 dear children in Jesus Christ, in finding myself in the 
 midst of the beloved flock which Providence has 
 vouchsafed to confide to my care ! Your eagerness 
 to receive me, and to testify to me your filial love, 
 awaken in me the most grateful emotions. I per- 
 ceive that your affection for me equals my love for 
 you. You are my children, my friends; and I am 
 your father, your most devoted friend. I desire 
 henceforth to live only for you, to watch over and 
 provide for your spiritual good, to console this diocese 
 
166 LIPE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 for its long widowhood since the loss of its first pas- 
 tor, and I would gladly give my life for your happi- 
 ness and salvation." Then, pouring forth the ten- 
 derness and affection which filled his heart, he ad- 
 dressed the various authorities, and the whole people, 
 in terms the most afl^ectionate and paternal. He did 
 not even forget the Protestants, who are considerably 
 numerous in the diocese of Montauban, and testified 
 to them, that day, the interest he felt in them. 
 "There is," said he, "an interesting portion of the 
 inhabitants of this diocese, who, although strangers 
 to our communion, ought not to be so to our affec- 
 tions. I wish also to be to them a father and a 
 friend ; happy, should I one day be permitted to unite 
 them all to our faith, as we ought to include them 
 in our charity." 
 
 After this discourse, the Te Deum, and the usual 
 ceremonies, the Bishop received again in his palace 
 the compliments of the different authorities, and re- 
 plied in the most gracious manner. He said to them, 
 " I have a very affectionate heart, and I wish to be 
 loved." The Protestant ministers were likewise re- 
 ceived by him, and heard from his lips the expres- 
 sions of genuine charity. " I shall use my best en- 
 deavours," said he to them, " to establish friendly 
 relations between us, mutual respect, benevolence, 
 and affection. It would be delightful to me, to see 
 the most intimate and endearing relations subsisting 
 between us." 
 
HE ORGANIZES HIS CHAPTER. 167 
 
 Such was the entrance of Bishop Cheverus into 
 Montauban ; and it may be truly said, that from this 
 first day he won all hearts ; all, both Protestants and 
 Catholics, were unanimous in his praise, and in their 
 love for him. 
 
 He immediately turned his attention to the organ- 
 ization of his Chapter. In this, favoritism had no in- 
 fluence ; merit alone determined his choice. Already, 
 during his stay in Paris, he had nominated several 
 canons ; he now completed the number. Afterwards, 
 considering how important it was, whether for the 
 honor of religion and the glory of God, or for drawing 
 greater numbers of the faithful to the church, to give 
 to the parochial services all possible pomp and so- 
 lemnity, he united the parish to the chapter, and 
 ordained that the capitulary mass should be the paro- 
 chial mass. He did not believe, that the dignity of a 
 chapter consisted in separating itself from the people, 
 and in celebrating its imposing ceremonies in the 
 gloomy solitude of a deserted cathedral. He thought, 
 on the contrary, that the greatest pomp should be dis- 
 played where the assembly of the faithful was gathered 
 together ; that nothing was more worthy of a chapter 
 than to contribute to this by its presence, and to attract 
 to its services, by uniting them with the parochial 
 service, a multitude of people who w^ould give them 
 interest and life. 
 
 In consequence of this measure, the services at 
 the cathedral were performed with the greatest so- 
 
168 LfFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 lemnily. On Sundays and holydays an immense 
 concourse of people attended, and the church, though 
 very large, could hardly contain them. It must be 
 confessed, that the Catholics were attracted also by 
 another motive. Bishop Cheverus, since his return 
 to France, had remarked the profound ignorance that 
 existed in regard to the elementary truths of religion, 
 even among persons acquainted with the arts and 
 sciences, and sometimes even among those who pro- 
 fessed a sort of piety. He therefore undertook to 
 give a sermon every Sunday, at the parochial mass; 
 and in this, without apprizing his hearers of his in- 
 tention, but, on the contrary, employing rhetorical 
 forms calculated to conceal his design, lest he should 
 offend their vanity, he explained to them the cate- 
 chism, following even the order of the lessons con- 
 tained in this elementary book. This was done with 
 so much grace and interest, and he knew so well 
 how to give a charm to these primary truths, that 
 all classes of society delighted to come and hear him. 
 The learned and the ignorant, Protestants and Cath- 
 olics, all crowded around the pulpit, all drank in his 
 words with delight; and his touching and eloquent 
 preaching was everywhere celebrated. When once 
 he found himself master of his audience, and was 
 sure he should not endanger the success of his in- 
 structions, he revealed to them his innocent secret. 
 '' If I had announced to you at the outset," said he 
 to them, ^' that I should teach the catechism every 
 
PREACHES AT TOULOUSE. 169 
 
 Sunday, you would have considered it beneath you 
 to attend, thinking it suitable only to children ; now 
 for six months I have done nothing else, and these 
 instructions have interested you. Learn, then, that 
 the catechism is a book for old persons as well as for 
 children, for the learned as well as for the ignorant. 
 All may derive instruction from it, and find something 
 in it to admire and meditate upon, and it is only an 
 absurd prejudice to regard the catechism with disdain." 
 The Bishop of Montauban continued the catechism, 
 and all attended upon it, with the same eagerness 
 and the same desire to learn. 
 
 The fame of the preaching, as well as of the vir- 
 tues of Bishop Cheverus, spread through the neigh- 
 bouring provinces ; all the public journals were loud 
 in his commendation, and every tongue praised him. 
 The Cardinal de Clermont-Tonnerre, Archbishop of 
 Toulouse, wished to become acquainted with so cele- 
 brated a prelate, and visited him at Montauban. The 
 modesty, the simplicity, and the amiable manners of 
 Bishop Cheverus pleased and charmed the Cardinal. 
 He invited him to come and visit him in return, and 
 made him promise to preach in his metropolitan city, 
 on the occasion of the erection of a Calvary. Bishop 
 Cheverus accepted the invitation, and, having preached 
 according to his promise, produced a powerful effect 
 upon the whole audience. The Cardinal, especially, 
 was moved even to tears ; and such was his emo- 
 tion, that he requested Bishop Cheverus to give his 
 15 
 
170 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 benediction to the people. " In your presence, Mon- 
 seigneur," replied the humble-minded Bishop, "it is 
 not for me to bless your people ; but, since you wish 
 it," added he, falling upon his knees at the feet of the 
 Cardinal, "give me your blessing, and I will then 
 transmit it to your flock.'' The Cardinal did so, 
 shedding tears of sensibility, and the Bishop of Mon- 
 tauban blessed the whole assembly in the name of 
 his Eminence. 
 
 Preaching was not the principal occupation of 
 Bishop Cheverus. To traverse his diocese in every 
 direction, to become acquainted with its pastors, to find 
 out its wants, to observe its spirit, and to dispense, 
 through the rite of confirmation, the grace of which a 
 bishop is the minister, was what he regarded as his first 
 duty ; and, while he acquitted himself of it with indefat- 
 igable zeal, it may also be said, that it afforded him the 
 sweetest consolation ; for, wherever he w^ent, he was 
 received with the same enthusiasm, and the same 
 hearty welcome, and left, at parting, the same regrets. 
 One day, when he had just got into his carriage to 
 depart from a parish, a poor woman having seized and 
 kissed his hand at the moment he extended it through 
 the coach door to give his parting benediction, he was 
 obliged to remain more than an hour, to afford the 
 same gratification to all the inhabitants, who pressed 
 around him, solicitous for the same happiness. An 
 attempt was made to remove them. "Let them 
 come/' said the Bishop, " let these good people sat- 
 
GAINS THE AFFECTION OF THE PROTESTANTS. 171 
 
 isfy at leisure their faith and their gratitude." Even 
 the Protestants manifested on every occasion their 
 respect and attachment to him ; they emulated the 
 zeal of the Catholics, and both seemed to belong to 
 the same flock, under the guidance of the same be- 
 loved pastor. " There are no longer any Protestants 
 at Montauban," said a deputy of that city to one of 
 the King's ministers ; " we are all Bishop's people" 
 The Bishop himself was pleased to make public 
 these friendly dispositions in one of his charges, on 
 his return from a visitation. " Everywhere," he says, 
 "as in our episcopal city, our brethren of a different 
 faith have manifested a tender respect, and we cannot 
 but hope that it will not be difficult for them to ac- 
 knowledge as their bishop him whom they love as 
 their friend." Such was the effect produced by his 
 gentle charity ; it was irresistible. Kind towards all, 
 he was especially so to the poor, in assisting them; 
 to the sick, in consoling them ; and to sinners, in bring- 
 ing them to God. If he heard of any difference in a 
 family or parish, his love suggested a thousand kind 
 devices to effect a reconciliation. We might cite 
 many instances of this nature, but will confine our- 
 selves to a single one. One day he learned that the 
 mayor of a certain city was at variance and open war 
 with his curate. He went immediately to see him, 
 and said to him, " Sir, I liave a great favor to ask 
 of you ; you will perhaps think me indiscreet, but I 
 expect much from your kindness." The mayor, al- 
 
172 LIFE OF CARDL\AL CHEVERUS. 
 
 most beside himself and much confused, protested that 
 there was nothing he should not be disposed to do for 
 a prelate so revered. ''Ah, well," said the Bishop, 
 throwing himself on his neck and embracing him, 
 " the favor I ask of you is to carry this kiss of peace 
 to your curate." The mayor promised, kept his word, 
 and a reconciliation took place. 
 
 But that which raised the reputation of Bishop 
 Cheverus to the highest point, and excited in all hearts 
 an enthusiasm of which those only can conceive w^ho 
 were witnesses of it, was the charity and generous 
 devotion that he displayed in the winter of 1826. 
 The river Tarn having at that time overflowed its 
 banks, and risen with frightful rapidity thirty feet 
 above its ordinary level, had inundated the two prin- 
 cipal suburbs of Montauban, and exposed to the 
 greatest danger their unfortunate inhabitants. When 
 the news of this accident first reached the charitfible 
 Bishop, he hastens to the place, directs boats to be 
 prepared to go to the assistance of those who were on 
 the point of perishing, and remove them from their 
 dwellings. A worthy disciple of Fenelon, who said 
 that bishops, too, have their days of battle, he super- 
 intends, encourages, urges, and incites the workmen ; 
 and soon all the sufferers are out of danger, and dis- 
 posed of in a place of safety. But what is to be- 
 come of them ? The greater part of them are poor, 
 without a shelter and without food. " Well, my 
 friends," said the Bishop to them, '' the episcopal 
 
HIS BENEVOLENCE DURING AN INUNDATION. 173 
 
 palace is yours ; come to it, all of you ; I will divide 
 with you my last morsel of bread." And so indeed 
 they did. The episcopal palace was transformed in- 
 to a hospital ; more than three hundred poor people 
 were received there, and distributed in its various 
 halls. A poor woman remained at the door of the 
 palace ; she dared not enter because she was a Prot- 
 estant. The Bishop heard of it, and ran to seek her 
 himself, saying, " Come, we are all brethren, espe- 
 cially in the hour of misfortune ; " and carried her 
 into one of the halls with her companions in misfor- 
 tune. During the whole time that the inundation 
 lasted, the good Bishop kept these unfortunate people 
 in his palace, and took care of them with the tender- 
 ness of a mother. He visited them many times each 
 day, consoled them with affectionate tenderness, was 
 careful that there should always be a good fire in each 
 hall, so that they might not suffer from the cold ; 
 fed them with the best his house afforded, sometimes 
 serving them himself, and distributing among them 
 wine and money ; and when, the waters having sub- 
 sided and the river retired to its channel, they were 
 able to return to their habitations, he opened a sub- 
 scription for their benefit, which he headed himself, 
 and called upon the wealthy to aid the good work. 
 His own example had spoken powerfully to the hearts 
 of all, and the rich responded to the appeal. A con- 
 siderable sum was deposited in his hands, which he 
 divided among the sufferers from the inundation, ac- 
 15* 
 
174 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 cording to their several necessities, making up for all 
 their calamities. All the poor people returned home, 
 loading with benedictions their charitable Bishop, and 
 unable to find words to express their love and grati- 
 tude. 
 
 So admirable an act of charity was soon known in 
 all parts of France ; Charles the Tenth heard of it, 
 and hastened to express to Bishop Cheverus how 
 much it had affected him ; adding to this letter of 
 congratulation the sum of five thousand francs, [a 
 thousand dollars,] to indemnify him, at least in part, 
 for the expense he had incurred on this occasion. 
 The five thousand francs were no sooner received 
 than they were distributed among the poor ; the Bish- 
 op felt himself sufficiently remunerated by the hap- 
 piness of having succoured the unfortunate. The 
 fame that this occurrence obtained for him did not 
 make him proud ; and it is affecting to observe with 
 what modesty he speaks of himself, a few days 
 after. 
 
 A former student of Louis-le-Grand, hearinor the 
 name of Bishop Cheverus everywhere lauded, wished 
 to know if it was the young xA-bbe of that name 
 whom he had known at college, and applied for in- 
 formation to the Bishop of Montauban himself *' I 
 was acquainted at Louis-le-Grand," he wrote, "with 
 a young Abbe bearing your name, a pensioner of 
 the college of Mans, as modest as he was religious ; 
 as diligent as he was well-informed ; of a uniformly 
 
HIS ZEAL AT THE TIME OF THE JUBILEE. 175 
 
 mild and affable character, and a model for all his 
 companions. Will you allow me to ask, Monsei- 
 gneur, if this young Abbe can be yourself? " 
 *' Yes," replied the humble Bishop, "I am in truth 
 the little Abbe Cheverus of Louis-le-Grand. How 
 happy 1 should be to see you here, and thank you 
 for your kind remembrance, and convince you that 
 the mitre, which has been forced, as it were, upon 
 my poor head, has neither turned it, nor filled it 
 with pride. The little that I have done for the poor 
 sufferers from the inundation has been much exag- 
 gerated. I had not the least idea that it would make 
 so much noise, and attract the attention, and obtain 
 for me the favors, of even our august sovereign." 
 
 The important epoch of the Jubilee arrived soon 
 after the event of which we have been speaking. 
 This afforded Bishop Cheverus an opportunity to 
 display greater zeal than ever, and to appear supe- 
 rior even to himself. During all this sacred sea- 
 son, besides the customary sermon on Sunday, he 
 preached Wednesday and Friday of each week, had a 
 retreat at his cathedral, officiated himself at all its 
 exercises, and gave daily instructions at them. But, 
 not content with these public acts of devotion, he 
 had private interviews with sinners, and endeavoured 
 to gain their hearts that he might restore them to 
 God. Among this number was a priest, formerly a 
 monk, who, during the reign of revolutionary terror, 
 had, in contempt of his engagements, contracted a 
 
176 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 sacrilegious marriage. Bishop Cheverus went to see 
 him several times ; and, like the father of the Prod- 
 igal, opened to him the arms of his charity, spoke 
 to him with gentleness and power, and, aided by that 
 grace which he invoked in fervent prayer, awoke 
 such deep compunction in his heart, that this un- 
 happy man, having himself drawn up a recantation 
 of his errors in the most touching language, desired 
 the Bishop to read it in the church, in the presence 
 of all the faithful. '^Penetrated," he says in it, 
 " with deep sorrow for my offences, and the occa- 
 sion I have given for scandal, I supplicate the divine 
 mercy, through the merits of Jesus Christ my Sa- 
 viour, to accept my repentance. I wish the faithful 
 to know that I would publicly own my transgressions, 
 and ask forgiveness, prostrating myself at the foot of 
 the altar in their presence, if my state of infirmity 
 would permit. Let them at least know, (and I 
 humbly implore their pity and their prayers,) let 
 them know that I acknowledge, with shame and an- 
 guish of heart, that I have, by a vile apostasy, vio- 
 lated my sacred vows of religion, and contracted an 
 alliance which that holy religion reprobates and con- 
 demns. Pardon, my God, pardon an unhappy priest, 
 a guilty but most penitent monk. Pardon me, my 
 brethren, on whom I have brought reproach ; pray 
 for the poor sinner." This recantation was handed 
 to the Bishop one day, when he was to preach at 
 the cathedral before an immense multitude, a few 
 
MAKES THE JUBILEE USEFUL TO THE SOLDIERS. 177 
 
 minutes before he entered the pulpit. He was so 
 much affected by it, that he could speak of nothing 
 else, and took for his text these words from Eccle- 
 siasticus, chap. viii. 6 ; " iVe despicias hominem aver- 
 tentem se a peccato neque improperes ei: Memento 
 quoniam omnes in correptione sumus. Despise not 
 the man who turns from his sin, and reproach him 
 not : Remember that we are all deserving of chastise- 
 ment." From a text so appropriate to his subject, 
 he proceeded to relate, in words full of tenderness 
 and compassion for the repentant sinner, the conver- 
 sion that had been effected, read the recantation, 
 and deduced from it useful reflections upon charity 
 towards sinners, who may become great saints ; and 
 upon the humility of the righteous, who, if they do 
 not watch over themselves, may become reprobate. 
 He hastened, immediately on leaving the pulpit, to 
 go and embrace this returning prodigal, to console, 
 encourage, and sustain him. 
 
 In the midst of all these pious labors, Bishop 
 Cheverus was engaged in another work not less im- 
 portant. The soldiers of the garrison at Montauban 
 seldom went to church, and the Jubilee was likely 
 to pass away without their deriving any advantage from 
 it. The worthy Bishop undertook to give them a 
 retreat, and for several days addressed to them most 
 touching discourses, well adapted to inspire in them 
 the love and practice of their religious duties. The 
 soldiers, edified by his zeal and touched by his 
 
178 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 preaching, engaged In self-examination, and requested 
 permission to receive the sacrament. The Bishop 
 provided them with confessors without delay, and 
 himself confessed those who wished him to do so. 
 After all were duly prepared, he conducted them in 
 person, many days in succession, to visit the dif- 
 ferent churches, to obtain the advantages of the Ju-* 
 bilee. It was an affecting sight, which the inhab- 
 itants of Montauban will never forget. They saw all 
 these soldiers, with an air of gravity and a collected 
 demeanor, marching, with their bishop at their head^ 
 with prayers on their lips, induced only by their own 
 hearts, their own free will ; for the Bishop had taken 
 care that authority should have nothing to do with 
 this step, but that it should be entirely voluntary. 
 
 While Montauban was rejoicing in the happiness 
 of possessing so worthy a bishop, it was soon to be 
 deprived of him, by an event which brought afflic- 
 tion to a neighbouring diocese. On the 11th of July, 
 1826, death removed from the love and veneration 
 of the people of Bordeaux, Monseigneur d'Aviau du 
 Bois de Sanzai, their Archbishop, of most holy mem- 
 ory. The whole city and all the diocese were in- 
 consolable. Where could be found a prelate so 
 perfect, so charitable, so devoted? Who could re- 
 pair this immense loss? Such was the general cry 
 that resounded from Bordeaux to Paris ; and one 
 reply was on every tongue, designating Bishop Chev- 
 erus as the only person who could supply the place 
 
APPOINTED ARCHBISHOP OF BORDEAUX, 179 
 
 of Monseigneur d'Aviau. The King was not slow 
 to listen to the general report, and confirm the 
 choice announced by public opinion. On the 30th 
 of July, he signed the order which nominated the 
 Bishop of Montauban to the Metropolitan See of 
 Bordeaux ; and the minister of ecclesiastical affairs, 
 on sending it to him, declared that the thing was 
 irrevocably done, and that he ought not even think 
 of making any opposition to it by a refusal. '* I 
 can easily conceive," added the minister, " your own 
 anguish, and the affliction of the city of Montauban ; 
 but you are the very man, and the King has judged 
 it necessary to require this sacrifice of the diocese 
 of Montauban, as well as of you." 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the grief of 
 Bishop Cheverus on the reception of this news ; it 
 was equalled only by the affliction of the people of 
 his diocese. Both parties felt real consternation, so 
 much the greater, as, from the positive style of the 
 minister's letter, there seemed no hope of success in 
 any attempt to have the ordinance revoked. Nev- 
 ertheless, as in great calamities one wishes to try 
 every means, even such as offer the least chance of 
 success. Bishop Cheverus wrote to the minister to 
 remonstrate and complain. The city of Montauban, 
 though it had httle hope left, wrote also on its own 
 behalf, and laid before the throne the expression of its 
 sincere sorrow. " Although we rejoice," say the people 
 of Montauban to the King, ^'in an elevation so well 
 
180 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 merited, and in the signal honor decreed to the 
 worthy rival of Vincent de Paul and of Fenelon, yet 
 we cannot withhold the expression of our grief, nor 
 restrain our tears, nor stifle our groans, especially 
 when we know that the affliction of our holy prelate 
 in leaving us is equal to our own grief in losing him. 
 Has Providence, then, granted us so precious a bless- 
 ing, only to deprive us of it at ?he moment when it 
 had become essential to the happiness of every in- 
 habitant of this diocese ? " To this address, of which 
 we have cited only a single passage, was added a 
 letter to Her Royal Highness the Dauphiness, be- 
 seeching her to employ her influence with the King, 
 to sustain the request of the people of Montauban. 
 They also appealed to Bishop Cheverus himself, and 
 entreated him, in a most feeling letter, to join his 
 solicitations to those of his children. "A disconso- 
 late family," say they, "throws itself on your com- 
 passion, and, with hands uplifted to Heaven, conjures 
 you not to forsake it, nor, by your departure, to aban- 
 don it to grief and regret." The Bishop had already 
 anticipated their request, and hastened to tell them so. 
 " I wrote yesterday,' 'he said to the minister, "and 
 entreated his Majesty not to tear me from my flock. If 
 the reply is favorable, my joy and gratitude will mani- 
 fest how much I love my people ; and if the orders 
 of his Majesty should be peremptory, my obedience 
 will cost me many tears ; but the example of the 
 people of Montauban would teach me, if need were. 
 
HIS REGRET AT LEAVING MONTAUBAN. 181 
 
 that one ought to obey his king and serve him, at 
 the sacrifice of what he holds most dear, even his 
 own hfe." 
 
 All these entreaties were without effect, and only- 
 served to show that two cities, so different in their man- 
 ners and character as Boston and Montauban, knew 
 equally well how to appreciate Bishop Cheverus, and 
 the misfortune of Ifesing him. The answers arrived 
 from Paris, expressing regret at the impossibility of 
 yielding to so many solicitations ; and nothing remained 
 but resignation. However dejected Bishop Cheverus 
 might be, he did not cease his labors till the moment of 
 his departure; and hardly a day passed without his 
 preaching or engaging in some pious work. Although 
 he had done so much .good in so short a time, confirmed 
 more than forty thousand Catholics, and dispensed so 
 often the word of truth, still it seemed to him that he 
 had not done enough. The moments that he could 
 spare from his pious labors were devoted to receiving 
 visits from the people of his diocese, who flocked 
 around him to express their regret and to seek consola- 
 tion from him. Alas ! he had more need of it. The 
 thought of his approaching departure afflicted him, 
 and all the regrets that were expressed to him served 
 only to aggravate his distress. A touching proof of 
 attachment afforded him some consolation on this 
 trying occasion. The Abbe de Trelissac, his grand- 
 vicar, who had resided more than twenty years at 
 Montauban, where he had property and a great many 
 16 
 
182 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 friends, valuing above every thing the happiness of 
 living with such a bishop, requested as a favor that 
 he might follow him to Bordeaux, having decided to 
 sell all his property, forsake all his friends, and go 
 even to Boston, should it be necessary, rather than 
 be separated from him. So well did Bishop Chev- 
 erus know how to render himself beloved, and so 
 highly was he esteemed when known. Touched by 
 such tender devotion, the Bishop accepted his offer 
 with gratitude, and his only thought then was to 
 escape from Montauban as soon as possible ; for his 
 sensibility could bear no more. To avoid the tears 
 and expressions of grief of his dear children, he de- 
 parted in the night, without the knowledge of the 
 people, sad and dejected beyond expression. 
 
 Having arrived in Paris, he could not forbear ex- 
 pressing his complaints and his grief to the minister, 
 who was obliged to excuse himself by protesting, that, 
 if he had required of him so great a sacrifice, his 
 conscience, which declared that this was the only 
 proper choice he could make, had forced him to do 
 so. The King, Charles the Tenth, received him 
 with his characteristic grace and kindness ; expressed 
 his great esteem and affection for him in the most 
 flattering terms ; and soon after made him a Peer 
 of France, a distinction the more marked, as no one 
 shared with him the honor of this promotion. To 
 be elevated to the peerage gave his benevolent feel- 
 ings much concern, and was equally trying to his 
 
HIS FEELINGS ON BEING MADE A PEER. 183 
 
 humility. He could not endure the thought, that the 
 poor should suffer from the expenses incurred by his 
 journeys, and his necessary residence in Paris during 
 the sessions of the Chamber; and, besides, he had 
 always felt averse to high station, or whatever would 
 render him conspicuous. M. de Villele, then min- 
 ister of finance, to whom he made known his feel- 
 ings on the subject, was obliged to set his mind at 
 rest on the first point, by promising him an addition 
 to his salary sufficient to cover these expenses ; and 
 to encourage him, with regard to the second, by 
 convincing him that his elevation was the wish of 
 France, sanctioned by the King, 
 
 While Bishop Cheverus was at Paris, and thus raised 
 to dignity in spite of himself, the grand-vicars of 
 Bordeaux, having written to him to express the great 
 joy they felt on account of his nomination, proposed 
 to him at the same time to demand of the govern- 
 ment the old archiepiscopal residence, a magnificent 
 palace built by the Prince de Rohan-Meriadec, when 
 he was archbishop of the city, and, since it had 
 been diverted from its original destination, used only 
 as an abode for the princes, when they came to Bor- 
 deaux. The humility of Bishop Cheverus rejected 
 this proposal altogether. " It does not become a poor 
 bishop like myself," he replied, "to dwell in so 
 splendid a palace ; the humble abode which has 
 served for my sainted predecessor will be too good 
 for me; and besides, I should be sorry to deprive 
 
184 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 our beloved princes of any part of the palace that 
 is appropriated to them when they come to see 
 us/'* 
 
 Sentiments like these gave the people of Bordeaux 
 some idea of the great excellence of Monseigneur 
 d'Aviau's successor, and rendered them very eager for 
 his arrival. He was proclaimed at Rome on the 2d of 
 October of the same year, 1 8'^6, but did not receive 
 his bulls until about six weeks after, when he started 
 immediately for Mayenne, intending to pass only a 
 few days there. He could not deny his family the 
 pleasure they requested, of having a short visit from 
 him before he proceeded to take possession of his 
 new See. He remained there, indeed, only a few 
 days, but in this short time he preached in the church 
 of Notre Dame, of the Visitation, at the hospital, and 
 the prisons ; his days of relaxation were days of 
 apostleship. He then proceeded to Mans, where he 
 
 *I think no reader will perceive in this letter any thing 
 but an instance of the modesty and delicacy of Bishop Chev- 
 erus, entirely foreign to the question of property which has 
 been debated recently, with such powerful reasons on the 
 one side, and very inconclusive arguments on the other. (See 
 the Treatise on the Proprietorship of Ecclesiastical Estates, 
 by M. Affre.) Besides, the archiepiscopal palace of Bor- 
 deaux, since the revolution of 1793, had never been restored 
 to an ecclesiastical use ; consequently, the case cannot be 
 compared to those of palaces restored by the government, 
 and occupied by the incumbents. 
 
PREACHES AN EXTEMPORE DISCOURSE AT MANS. 185 
 
 received the pallium* froni the hands of the bishop 
 of that city, in the chapel of the great seminary, 
 after an exhortation which he addressed to the stu- 
 dents of that establishment upon apostoHcal zeal. 
 
 The evening after this ceremony, he was invited 
 to preach in the cathedral, at a missionary service 
 that was to be held there ; but having a violent cold 
 that affected his voice, and a severe cough that was 
 very troublesome to him, he declined, and promised 
 merely to be present at the exercise. Notwithstand- 
 ing this refusal, as soon as he appeared in the church, 
 the missionary who was then in the pulpit, seized 
 with the desire of securing to his audience a few 
 words from the lips which had reconciled so many 
 sinners to virtue, announced to the assembly that the 
 Archbishop of Bordeaux had something to say to 
 them, and that he was most happy to yield the pul- 
 pit to him. The Archbishop, surprised at an annun- 
 ciation so unexpected, hesitated a moment ; but soon 
 that courage which triumphs over the most severe 
 indisposition was aroused in the heart of the veteran 
 missionary ; he went into the pulpit, and produced an 
 effect the more thrilling on account of his enfeebled 
 voice, which gave greater interest to his words, and 
 penetrated all hearts by evincing such pious zeal. 
 
 The next day he set off for Bordeaux, and arrived 
 
 * The name given to a decoration which the Pope sends 
 to all the archbishops, and which must be conferred on them 
 by a prelate. 
 
 16* 
 
186 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 there on the 13th of December. At the entrance 
 of* the city, he found the Metropohtan Chapter and 
 a large number of the clergy awaiting his arrival. He 
 was conducted by them in procession to the cathe- 
 dral, and, on his way, had an opportunity to ob- 
 serve that his reputation alone had already gained 
 him all hearts ; every face appeared radiant with joy ; 
 all seemed to felicitate themselves on having found, 
 what they had believed to be irrecoverably lost, the 
 goodness, the mildness, the charity of Monseigneur 
 d'Aviau. "How good he looks!" they exclaimed. 
 " How amiable he seems ! Long life to Monseigneur ! 
 Blessings on the father of the poor!" At the en- 
 trance of the cathedral, the first grand- vicar, M. Bar- 
 res, an ecclesiastic of remarkable talents and a good- 
 ness of heart still more remarkable, made him a 
 complimentary address in the name of the clergy. 
 The Archbishop, by his feeling and fervent reply, 
 affected even to tears all who were present, commu- 
 nicating to their hearts tlie emotion he felt, on be- 
 holding this church, still moist with the tears shed for 
 his sainted predecessor ; and commented with ability 
 on these words of the fourth council of Carthage, which 
 briefly state the duties of a bishop : "In the church, 
 or in the ecclesiastical government, the bishop should 
 be superior to all his priests ; in the house he should 
 be their brother: Episcopus in ecclesid suhlimior 
 sedeat, intra domum vero collegam se presbyierorum 
 esse cognoscatJ^ Authority and firmness in govern- 
 
ADDRESSES TO THE AUTHORITIES OP BORDEAUX. 187 
 
 ment, but friendship and cordiality in private rela- 
 tions. "I shall love you," he said to his priests, 
 at the close of his remarks ; " give me also your love ; 
 my heart needs to have you for friends." After the 
 ceremony, he received at the archiepiscopal palace 
 all the civil, military, and judicial authorities, and 
 addressed each of them with such perfect grace, such 
 wonderful appropriateness, and such touching benev- 
 olence, that all went away enchanted. His amiable 
 sagacity enabled him to detect the point of contact, 
 the bond of relationship and union, between the clergy 
 and each rank in the state. Now he found it in the 
 similarity of their functions ; as when he said to the 
 judges : " You pass sentence in the name of the God 
 of justice, we, in the name of the God of mercy ; 
 thus we are fellow-laborers ; we should sustain and 
 love each other as such. Religion and justice are 
 sisters, who ought never to be disunited." Again he 
 perceived this connecting link in reciprocal services, 
 as when he said to the tribunal of commerce, " Re- 
 ligion owes much to commerce ; for commerce has 
 carried her missionaries into distant regions ; has 
 borne me to America, and brought me back to Eu- 
 rope. But commerce owes still more to religion, 
 since it is she that preserves justice and good faith 
 in contracts, and prevents frauds or makes reparation 
 for them. Thus mutual gratitude should render us 
 all friends, and make us one family of brothers." 
 Such gracious words, accompanied with amiable man- 
 
188 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ners and engaging kindness, excited enthusiasm and 
 attachment. It was a unanimous concert of praise, 
 applause, and honorable approbation; yet, in the midst 
 of all this, the good Archbishop was far from being 
 elated with pride. " You see how I am honored 
 here below," said he to one of his friends ; " I very- 
 much fear that God may one day say to me, Thou 
 hast received thy recompense in this world." 
 
 One thing engaged his thoughts more than all 
 these praises; viz. what mode he should adopt, of 
 governing the large diocese confided to his care. 
 He laid down for himself, at the outset, three rules 
 of conduct ; the first was to be kind and amiable to 
 all, that he might conciliate their affections ; the sec- 
 ond, to make no changes in any thing which his 
 sainted predecessor had done ; and the third, not to 
 decide upon any thing, until he was well acquainted 
 with persons, things, and places. 
 
 To be kind and amiable towards all, would seem 
 to be following only the dictates of his naturally be- 
 nevolent heart. Nevertheless any one would be 
 greatly mistaken, who should suppose that this un- 
 failing kindness of heart never cost him any effort. 
 God alone knows to what violence his feelings were 
 often subjected ; sometimes in suppressing inward re- 
 pugnance or dislike, without permitting any outward 
 manifestation of what was passing in his mind to ap- 
 pear ; and sometimes in submitting to continual inter- 
 ruption in the midst of his multiplied occupations, and 
 
HIS UNIVERSAL BENEVOLENCE. 189 
 
 giving at all times the same welcome, however unsea- 
 sonable or inconvenient the visit might be. " If char- 
 ity," said he, '* were extended only to persons whona 
 we like, or exercised only at those times when we 
 feel ourselves inclined to be sociable, it would be with- 
 out any merit." Hence it happened, that those, even 
 of whom he had most reason to complain, whom he 
 knew to have censured his conduct, or expressed un- 
 friendly sentiments respecting him, met with the same 
 kind reception as his best friends. His charity drew a 
 veil over all wrongs, and he seemed unconscious of 
 them. And hence, he was always found ready to 
 oblige, always disposed to do a kindness to every one. 
 Sometimes, it is true, he appeared sad, dejected, and 
 silent, because his good and sensitive heart, compas- 
 sionating the miseries of all, was oppressed by some 
 unpleasant news, or the dread of some unhappy event. 
 At such times, those who were not well acquainted 
 with him might mistake his manner of meeting them 
 for coldness ; but, if they had any service to ask of 
 him, that it was in his power to render, or if they 
 poured out their hearts in confidence to him, and re- 
 quested his counsel, they immediately recognised in 
 him the tender father, the kind friend, and the charita- 
 ble pastor; they found him eager to oblige them, and 
 every word spoke the tenderness of his heart. Such 
 was his kindness to all who came to see him, priests 
 or laymen, members of his diocese or strangers, 
 that all were invited to his table without distinction, 
 
190 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 with a courtesy which testified the pleasure he should 
 feel in their acceptance, and at the same time with an 
 ease, which left those who had any reason for refusing 
 perfectly at liberty. He was the father of a family, 
 who delighted in seeing his children, but did not wish 
 to put them under any restraint. 
 
 Such goodness was well calculated to secure to 
 Archbishop Cheverus the affections of every one ; and 
 his profound respect for whatever Monseigneur d'Aviau 
 had done was another claim on their regard. Very 
 different from those restless and self-confident spirits, 
 who, finding themselves at the head of affairs, endeav- 
 our to change every thing, to bring all over to their 
 own opinions, and to dispose every thing according to 
 their own views, he was religiously careful to preserve 
 that which already existed, to ascertain what had 
 been practised before him, and to pursue the same 
 course ; he did not disturb any thing that was estab- 
 lished, nor change any regulation that had been made. 
 "I am the successor of a saint," he often said; "I 
 respect whatever he has done ; each act of his is in 
 my view a sacred ark, which I would not touch, even 
 with the tip of my finger." " Each day," said he, in 
 one of his charges, " we pray the Lord to preserve, 
 through our ministry, all that our excellent and sainted 
 predecessor has done in the midst of you. We es- 
 teem ourselves happy, when we feel assured that we 
 are doing what he would have done in Hke circum- 
 stances, and that we speak to you as he would have 
 
HIS HIGH OPINION OF MONSEIGNEUR D'AVIAU. 191 
 
 Spoken." Sentiments and conduct like these, could 
 not fail to please the people of Bordeaux, by whom 
 the memory of Monseigneur d'Aviau was so much 
 cherished and venerated. But it was not with a view 
 to please, that Archbishop Cheverus spoke thus. It 
 was from a sentiment of profound humility in thinking 
 of himself, and from his veneration for the memory 
 of Monseigneur d'Aviau. In his own estimation he 
 was so far below his sainted predecessor, that he could 
 not endure to have any comparison made between 
 them, either in private conversation or public discourse, 
 and regarded any parallel of this nature as injurious to 
 himself. He carried this so far, that, one day, while 
 presiding at a solemn distribution of prizes, he sud- 
 denly interrupted the speaker, at the first words of 
 this kind of praise which was so offensive to him, 
 and pronounced, in an agitated and sorrowful tone of 
 voice, these remarkable words : " To draw a parallel 
 between me and my sainted predecessor is to in- 
 sult me, because it is setting my incapacity in the 
 strongest light ; I will not suffer such an outrage in 
 public ; and I am determined that my dignity shall 
 be respected." From that time it was well understood 
 throughout the diocese, that all such comparison was 
 to be strictly avoided before the Archbishop, and con- 
 fined to each one's own thoughts. He discoursed but 
 too much with himself of his predecessor ; the recollec- 
 tion of whom filled him with fear and anxiety, and ren- 
 dered his new See unpleasant to him. He sighed for 
 
192 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Montauban, he sighed for Boston, and often said, in 
 conversation with his familiar friends, " If God had 
 served me as he did Lot's wife, I should long ago 
 have been changed into a pillar of salt ! for I am 
 always looking back with regret." 
 
 The exalted idea he entertained of the virtues of 
 Monseigneur d'Aviau had taken such possession of 
 his mind, that, on the 11th of July, 1827, just as 
 the anniversary service for that sainted prelate was 
 ended, being informed that the whole assembly ex- 
 pected a funeral eulogium, he had only to collect his 
 thoughts for a few moments at the foot of the altar, and 
 then went into the pulpit, and pronounced a most af- 
 fecting and appropriate funeral oration, which excited 
 universal admiration by the astonishing talent it dis- 
 played for extemporaneous speaking. He took for his 
 text these words spoken by the Holy Spirit concerning 
 Moses: " Dilectus Deo et hominibus, cujus memoria in 
 henedictioiie est ; similem ilium fecit in gloria sancto- 
 rum. Beloved of God and men, his memory is 
 blessed, and God has made him a partaker of the 
 glory of the saints." And having divided his dis- 
 course in conformity with these words, he showed, 
 1st, What Monseigneur d'Aviau had been in relation to 
 God ; and here he exhibited his tender piety, which 
 made him appear at the altar like an angel, et intu- 
 entes eum omnes, viderunt faciem ejus tanquam fa- 
 ciem angeli ; which also made him a man of prayer, 
 of faith, and of spirituality : 2ndly, What he had 
 
VISITS HIS DIOCESE. 193 
 
 been in relation to his fellow-men ; and here he dwelt 
 on his zeal for the salvation of souls, his charity to the 
 poor, and his kindness to all. 
 
 Still, Archbishop Cheverus was not discouraged by 
 the disparity which his humility perceived between his 
 sainted predecessor and himself; it served only as a 
 new motive to him to labor with activity in the gov- 
 ernment of his diocese. Before determining upon or 
 ordaining any thing, he wished to take time to observe, 
 to understand, and to reflect ; for he well knew that an 
 evil is often made worse by a precipitate attempt at 
 reform ; that it is even dangerous to meddle with what 
 is good, in order to make it better; and that, at all 
 events, in order to proceed wisely, one ought to be 
 perfectly acquainted with the condition of things, and 
 the disposition of men's minds. 
 
 His first occupation, the principal object of his 
 thoughts, at the commencement of his labors, was, 
 therefore, to become acquainted with his diocese, his 
 clergy, the most influential men, and the character of 
 the different sorts of people, whether in the cities or 
 in the country. The numerous visits he received 
 every day at the archiepiscopal palace afforded him 
 many opportunities of doing this, and he did not fail to 
 profit by them. But he did not confine himself to these ; 
 he wished to see for himself, and visited in succession 
 all the parishes and religious establishments in the city 
 of Bordeaux; and, at the same time that he was widely 
 distributing words of grace and benediction, he listened 
 17 
 
194 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 to complaints and confidential communications, and 
 was observant of men, places, and things. After this, 
 he visited the various parts of the diocese ; not only 
 the principal cities, as Blaye, Libourne, Bazas, Les- 
 parre, and La Reole, but a great number of country 
 parishes, informing himself of their wants, and of the 
 character of the people in each ; becoming acquainted 
 with his priests, most of whom he saw at the different 
 meetings that were held on occasion of his visits ; 
 and observing every thing with his penetrating glance, 
 his accurate and practised judgment, without permit- 
 ting his object to be discovered. A conversation, a 
 word, would often reveal to him the man. 
 
 In these visits he was not satisfied merely to ac- 
 quaint himself with his diocese, he did all the good 
 he could at the same time ; preached in each parish, 
 upon their regularities and vices which the curate of 
 the place pointed out to him ; reconciled differences, 
 and everywhere proclaimed his favorite sentiment, by 
 which he would fain have made all men one family, of 
 one heart, and one mind. My brethren, my beloved, 
 lei us love one another. He gave, in his own per- 
 son, the best example of what he preached ; as may 
 be seen by the following circumstance. 
 
 One day, having learned that a curate was at open 
 variance with his parish, he proceeded to the place 
 to endeavour to unite their hearts and restore peace. 
 To conduct otherwise irreproachable, and a zeal 
 too ardent rather than too cold, this curate united 
 
RECONCILES A CURATE WITH HIS PARISHIONERS. 195 
 
 a character of extreme impetuosity, which sometimes 
 carried him beyond the bounds of prudence, and had 
 ■been the sole cause of the division. Too rigid an ob* 
 server of ancient rules made for an earlier period, he 
 had just exasperated a family, by refusing to admit as 
 god-mother a lady who had not received the sacra- 
 ment at Easter ; and the tenacious parents preferred 
 that their child should remain unbaptized, rather than 
 present another god-mother. The Archbishop, arriv- 
 ing in the mean time, attempted to persuade the curate 
 to admit the woman, and, upon his refusing, directed 
 one of the priests who accompanied him to perform 
 the baptism, in order to secure the salvation of the 
 child, and not let it be a victim to the ill-will of its 
 parents. At this, the curate flew into a passion, and, 
 yielding to the violence of his temper, so far forgot 
 himself as to address the most abusive language to 
 his Archbishop. To this tempest the latter opposed 
 only silence, calmness, and gentleness ; and, proceeding 
 to the church to commence the service, he went into 
 the pulpit, and invited all the parishioners to be at 
 peace and amity with their curate, of whom he spoke 
 in the highest terms, enumerating all the good qualities 
 which he really possessed. " You have," he then 
 added, " only one complaint to make against your 
 venerable pastor ; he has, you say, a violent and pas- 
 sionate temper. Ah ! my brethren, who has not his 
 defects ? If I should be among you twenty-four 
 hours, you would perhaps discover so many in me 
 
196 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 that you could not endure me. You find but one in 
 your curate ; pardon, then, this defect, in consideration 
 of all his virtues. No society can exist, except by mu- 
 tual forbearance towards each other's faults." After 
 this address, the Archbishop, descending from the pul- 
 pit, went to the sacristy, where he found the curate 
 ashamed and embarrassed, and embraced him with 
 tenderness and hearty affection. " My dear curate, 
 I love you ; I am your devoted friend," he said to 
 him; *' in what manner do you wish that we should 
 commence the ceremony ? " endeavouring by these 
 words to divert his thoughts from the recollection of 
 his fault, and to show his indulgence for every thing 
 not inconsistent with his duty. The ceremony being 
 finished, he wished to have a private interview with 
 such of the parishioners as were most offended with 
 their pastor, and spoke to them with so much kindness, 
 that they could refuse him nothing ; a reconciliation 
 took place, the kiss of peace was mutually exchang- 
 ed, all sat down together at the same table, and all 
 hearts were united in that of the Archbishop. Thus 
 did he make charity everywhere prevail, and taught by 
 his example, that, as the Apostle says, " It suffereth 
 long and is kind, is not easily provoked, but forgiveth 
 and endureth all things." 
 
 The first result of his pastoral visits, and of the 
 knowledge he gained of his diocese, was also a plan 
 of benevolence. Two great evils had struck him for- 
 cibly in his apostolical journeys. The first was the 
 
ESTABLISHES A FUND FOR AGED OR INFIRM PRIESTS. 19? 
 
 painful situation of certain priests, who, having given 
 every thing to the poor as fast as they received it, had 
 become poor themselves, in consequence of long and 
 expensive illness or some unforeseen event. The 
 second was the sad condition of certain parishes, 
 which were without instruction, without public wor- 
 ship, and almost without a ministry, since the pastors, 
 from age or infirmity, could not perform their functions ; 
 and, on the other hand, to deprive them of their places, 
 which were their only means of support, would be to 
 reduce them to the most deplorable condition, would 
 be a species of cruelty. The Archbishop felt these 
 two great evils, as one possessed of a heart so kind 
 must necessarily do ; and he then conceived the de- 
 sign of remedying them, whatever it might cost. The 
 expedient which his benevolence suggested was to 
 propose to his assembled clergy an annual subscription, 
 designed to create a common fund, which should be 
 employed, either in furnishing a pension, on their re- 
 tirement from office, to priests whom age or infirmity 
 had rendered incapable of their parochial duties, or 
 in giving temporary assistance to those whom the ex- 
 penses of long illness, or some unexpected accident, 
 had reduced to distress and embarrassment. This 
 proposition was received with eagerness and gratitude ; 
 supported as it was, with heartfelt eloquence, by the 
 most touching remarks upon that charity, which ought 
 to interest the whole body of the clergy in the welfare 
 of each of its members ; urged, moreover, by all the 
 17* 
 
198 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 motives, which his sagacity enabled him to suggest, of 
 personal advantage to each subscriber, who would find 
 in this institution a security for the future. The sub- 
 scription was opened ; he, as the father of his clergy, 
 headed it himself, subscribed a thousand francs [two 
 hundred dollars] annually ; and, in order that his sub- 
 scription might not end with his life, he invested in the 
 public funds a capital of twenty thousand francs, [four 
 thousand dollars,] in the name of the pension fund, 
 which secured in perpetuity the annual amount of his 
 first subscription. He was happy in the thought, that he 
 should not only be the support and benefactor of his 
 clergy during his life, but that also, after his death, his 
 charity would follow his priests from age to age, and 
 that he should live for them in his benefits, even when 
 he should be no more. He did not however limit 
 himself to this. All the occasional donations of which 
 he could dispose, without prejudice to his customary 
 charities, were placed in this fund ; he put into it at 
 one time ten thousand francs, which a charitable per- 
 son had placed at his disposal ; and he directed the 
 executor of his will to add three thousand francs 
 more, if he left any property at his death. This was 
 faithfully performed. To assist his priests in their 
 need was his chosen work. " I do not know," said 
 he, " any charity better bestowed than that which 
 affords assistance to a priest who has grown gray in the 
 labors of the ministry, and who is poor because he has 
 been charitable." Thus all the clergy of Bordeaux 
 
PUBLISHES A NEW EDITION OF THE RITUAL. 199 
 
 recollect, and will long remember, with what tender 
 interest, with what warmth of feeling, he recommend- 
 ed, every year, in the ecclesiastical retreats, this good 
 work, of which he had the honor of being as it were 
 the founder in France, and which so many dioceses 
 have since imitated. 
 
 Having made sure of this fund, he drew up judicious 
 regulations in regard to it, and decreed, 1st. That each 
 rank of the clergy should have a representative of its 
 interests, in the commission intrusted with the distribu- 
 tion of the fund ; and that thus, his first grand-vicar 
 being president, this commission should consist of a 
 canon, a nominal curate, an officiating curate, and a vi- 
 car. 2ndly. That a minute account of receipts and ex- 
 penditures should be accurately made out every year, 
 and sent to each subscriber ; that all might be able to 
 judge of the good use made of the fund, of the excel- 
 lence of the institution, and rejoice in the comfort af- 
 forded to their seniors in the ministry, or to their sick 
 brethren. 
 
 But many other things besides the wants of the 
 clergy had attracted the attention of the Archbishop 
 in his visitation. Among others, he remarked a great 
 difference in the usages and observances of different 
 parts of the diocese, arising either from the fact that 
 many curates had neither the statutes nor the ritual of 
 the diocese, the edition of which was exhausted ; or 
 from the circumstance, that, these two ecclesiastical 
 codes prescribing things no longer in conformity with 
 the manners and circumstances of the times, each in- 
 
'200 I-IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 dividual had laid down his own rule of conduct. This 
 difficulty he remedied in part by preparing a new ritu- 
 al, in which his accustomed prudence and caution are 
 observable. He respected, to such a degree as not to 
 change a single word, every thing in the old ritual which 
 was compatible with the existing state of society, and 
 added as little as possible ; because his principle was, 
 that, in respect to laws, the fewer one makes the better ; 
 and he quoted on this subject the saying of a member 
 of a legislative assembly, who, at the close of a meeting 
 at which all the discussions had ended in suppressing 
 a proposed law, said to his friends, " We have per- 
 formed to-day our master-stroke ; we have abstained." 
 He confined himself, therefore, to laying down rules 
 of conduct for his priests, on occasions of most ordina- 
 ry occurrence ; for example, respecting god-fathers 
 and god-mothers ; prohibiting any from being admitted 
 to this office w^hose marriage had not been blessed 
 in the presence of the church, or who should not pro- 
 fess adherence to the Catholic church, and belief of 
 all that it teaches. He finished by a new exhortation, 
 which he charged his curates to read frequently to 
 their parishioners, and which, in a clear and concise 
 summary, recalled to their minds all the truths which 
 a Christian ought to believe, all the precepts he should 
 observe, all the sacraments he should receive, and the 
 prayers he should say. 
 
 In the mean time, the Archbishop did not lose sight 
 of the many parishes that were without pastors, nor 
 
HIS INTEREST IN HIS SEMINARIES. 201 
 
 of the many pastors who were in want of assistants, 
 and who must either permit souls to suffer, or, if they 
 should exert themselves to satisfy all the demands 
 upon them, must in a little time become exhausted. 
 This was a constant subject of his solicitude ; and 
 he felt that his only resource, to remedy the evil, was 
 in his seminaries. Thus he spared no effort to secure 
 the prosperity of these establishments, and promote 
 their progress. He went several times a year to 
 visit his lower seminary, though it was situated, for 
 a long time, twelve leagues from Bordeaux. At each 
 visit, he addressed to the students wise counsels and 
 words of exhortation and encouragement ; and never 
 refused any thing to the Superior that could be useful 
 to his establishment. He extended the same kind 
 attention to his principal seminary, and felt, perhaps, 
 a Still more tender affection for it. Here he gave 
 those, who were training for the service of the sanc- 
 tuary, lessons on charity, zeal, gentleness, and pru- 
 dence, of all which he was himself the most touch- 
 ing model. He was particularly happy in the reli- 
 gious exercises of the retreat which preceded or- 
 dination. Forcibly struck with the new position 
 about to be assumed by young men living hitherto 
 in the seclusion of the seminaries, who, in a few 
 days, were to be suddenly introduced into the world 
 under the most weighty responsibilities, with such 
 immense influence for good, if their conduct should 
 correspond to their profession, and with still greater 
 
202 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 influence for evil, if ihey were imprudent, his heart 
 was deeply interested in their fate, and that of re- 
 ligion, whose ministers they were about to become. 
 On these occasions, he enforced upon them those 
 ilessons of wisdom, of modesty, of disinterestedness, 
 which would insure the success of their ministry, and 
 inculcated upon them the obligation they were under 
 to render religion lovely in the world ; to win to her 
 every sinner by kindness of conduct, mildness of 
 character, suavity of language, and the self-devotion 
 cxf charity. After the ceremony of ordination, he did 
 not deliver a discourse upon the duties of the priest- 
 hood ; he was too much affected to preach then. 
 He poured out his heart, and his sensibility over- 
 flowed at the sight of these youthful priests, new 
 children added to his sacerdotal family, new aids, 
 he said, sent to support his weakness; new props, on 
 which his old age might lean. In this manner, did 
 the Archbishop give lessons and examples of goodness 
 to his seminaries ; but he did not introduce into them 
 that spirit of innovation which is fond of change, fertik 
 in plans of reform, and productive only of disastrous 
 results. He reposed entire confidence in the society 
 of the priests of St. Sulpicius, who had charge of the 
 principal seminary, and in the venerable ecclesiastic, 
 himself a pupil of St. Sulpicius, who had the di- 
 rection of the lower seminary. He relied upon 
 them for all the details, and refused to intermeddle 
 with these; "Because," he said, "unity is essen- 
 
ENCOURAGES SCHOOLS OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE. 203 
 
 tial to every government, and similarity of views to 
 every administration ; a machine drawing different 
 ways has no longer a regular movement." So that 
 the most intimate and cordial union was always main- 
 tained between the Archbishop and his seminaries, 
 •where his visits were welcomed with delight, and 
 he was received with joy, as a father in the bosom 
 of his family. 
 
 But the tender interest of the Archbishop of Bor- 
 deaux was not confined to the education of clerical 
 youth only. He was sensible that it would be all in 
 vain for the seminaries to send forth good priests, if 
 infancy was vitiated in its primary education ; if, from 
 the earliest age, the mind and the heart were not 
 formed to the love and practice of virtue. This ren- 
 dered the fraternity of the Schools of Christian Doc- 
 trine so dear to him; he esteemed them the most sig- 
 nal benefactors of religion and society, admired their 
 devotedness, which faith alone could inspire and sus- 
 tain, and could not conceive that sensible people could 
 think of comparing with them masters animated by any 
 other motive. He often visited their schools, congrat- 
 ulated the children on having such masters, whom he 
 called fellow-laborers in his ministry ; he even re- 
 ceived the children at his own house, and distributed 
 rewards among them. "If Bordeaux should lose 
 these good brothers," he wrote to a minister to whom 
 he recommended them, " it would be an unspeak- 
 able misfortune ; in their school the love of good 
 
204 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 order, submission to the laws, and respect for the 
 magistrates are learned ; because they teach all these 
 in the name of religion, the only solid basis of social 
 happiness." He would have recommended them 
 also, had it been necessary, to the authorities of 
 the city of Bordeaux ; but the fraternity recommended 
 themselves strongly enough. Every year the state- 
 ment of the labors of the scholars, and the sagacity 
 of their replies to questions which seemed to belong 
 to more advanced studies, manifested new progress, 
 to which the equity of the magistrates did ample 
 justice. The Archbishop was almost alarmed at 
 this ; he feared lest youth so well informed should 
 wish to rise above their condition in life, and min- 
 gle in the ranks, already too crowded, which ob- 
 struct every avenue to office. In his remarks, he 
 endeavoured to fortify them against that ambition of 
 the lower class, which he esteemed one of the greatest 
 scourges of modern society ; because it implants in 
 every mind a principle of restlessness, a desire of 
 change and of revolution, a tendency to disturb the 
 existing state of things, which induce the people to 
 join with every agitator. "You are on the lowest 
 round of the social ladder," he said to them one day; 
 " but it is with this as with Jacob's ladder, on which 
 the angels were ascending and descending. The 
 angel that was on the step nearest the earth, was 
 no less great, no less happy, and no less honorable, 
 than he that was on the round nearest heaven. It 
 
PROMOTES THE DISTRIBUTION OF GOOD BOOKS. 205 
 
 is the same with you, my children ; every condition 
 is honorable, when it is well filled. Happiness is 
 found everywhere, when we are virtuous." 
 
 The Archbishop also visited with tender interest 
 those religious communities where young girls, both 
 rich and poor, were educated. With inexhaustible 
 goodness and indefatigable patience, he accorded what- 
 ever could give them pleasure ; he was present, when 
 they wished it, at all their exercises, either to excit6 
 emulation by public trials of memory and application, 
 or to distribute rewards ; and he thought nothing of 
 his own trouble, provided good was done and others 
 were pleased. 
 
 To this interest in the right education of child- 
 hood, he united a zeal no less ardent in another 
 work, designed to disseminate lessons of virtue and 
 religion among adults of all classes. We allude to 
 the plan of distributing good books, which Bordeaux 
 had the honor of originating, and which has spread 
 thence into most of the dioceses of France. Be- 
 fore the arrival of Archbishop Clieverus, this work 
 had been commenced by a holy priest, M. Barraut, 
 who, witnessing the infernal eagerness with which 
 certain men were engaged in disseminating bad books, 
 in order to destroy even the last remaining germ of 
 religion in the hearts of the people, conceived the 
 design of employing an antidote against these, and 
 spreading abroad good books with at least equal zeal. 
 He began with his own library, and put in circula- 
 18 
 
206 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 tion all those books contained in it, which might be 
 read with most advantage. For each class and every 
 condition he selected a book suited to their capacity ; 
 at first a work merely amusing, in order to allure 
 the reader ; then another, which combined instruction 
 with entertainment ; and finally he gave out books of 
 an entirely religious character, calculated to impart 
 the knowledge of Christianity, and to inspire a love 
 for the sacraments, and a desire to receive them. 
 This first attempt was successful ; and he had the 
 consolation of seeing many persons return to God, 
 enlightened and affected by reading these books, who 
 before had lived in the neglect of all religious ob- 
 servances. Encouraged by this success, he employed 
 all his means in purchasing new books, and in- 
 terested good people in the undertaking ; and soon 
 many thousand volumes were in circulation in Bor- 
 deaux and the diocese, diffusing everywhere the light 
 of religion, and kindling the sacred flame of virtue. 
 Monseigneur d'Aviau, by an archiepiscopal ordinance, 
 gave canonical authority and stability to this work, 
 and sent information of it to the Holy See, which 
 bestowed upon it many praises, and enriched it 
 by privileges. Such was the state of things when 
 Archbishop Cheverus arrived at Bordeaux. He re- 
 joiced in finding there so valuable an institution, man- 
 ifested especial kindness towards its generous found- 
 er, treated him as a friend, and embraced the first 
 opportunity that occurred to confer on him, as well 
 
HOUSE OF REFUGE AND MERCY. 207 
 
 as on his labors, the highest mark of his approbation, 
 by naming him titular canon of his metropolitan city. 
 He gave him, besides, more than six hundred volumes, 
 exclusive of pecuniary donations ; recommended the 
 association again to the Holy See, and obtained for 
 it new privileges ; preached on its behalf whenever 
 he was requested to do so, and declared himself 
 from the pulpit its patron and friend. He pre- 
 sided himself at its meetings, in his own palace ; 
 and, that it might the more certainly accomplish its 
 design, he appointed a committee to examine what 
 books it would be best to put in circulation. 
 
 The w^arm interest manifested by Archbishop Chev- 
 erus in whatever tended to make men virtuous, or 
 restore such as had wandered from religion to her 
 paths, may give one some idea how much he must 
 have felt for those who, guided by grace, and desirous of 
 avoiding a world whose dangers they had experienced, 
 came to expiate in retirement the irregularities of their 
 conduct, and to lead penitent and exemplary lives, 
 under the wings of divine mercy. There existed, at 
 Bordeaux, a House of Refuge and Mercy, where 
 more than three hundred persons of this description, 
 voluntary penitents, led a life of labor and self-denial ; 
 alleviated, however, by the happiness of a purified 
 conscience, recovered peace of mind, and the holy ex- 
 ercises of prayer. This establishment was an object of 
 admiration to the Archbishop of Bordeaux ; he re- 
 garded it as the glory of his diocese, and delighted to 
 
208 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 take strangers there, that he might lead them to admire 
 the hand of God, tlie operation of the Most High, 
 and his most signal act of grace. He did every- 
 thing, moreover, to sustain this institution ; it inherited 
 most of his property after his death, and as long as 
 he lived he continued to bestow money upon it, as 
 far as his means allowed, and persuaded the rich to 
 aid him with their bounties; and when the wants of 
 the establishment were most pressing, he called a 
 charity meeting, and communicated to the souls of 
 others the sensibility that filled his own, and a large 
 collection repaid his pious zeal. He particularly es- 
 teemed the Superior of this establishment. Mademoi- 
 selle de Lamouroux, a lady of good family, who, with 
 an heroic charity, by the highest act of devotion that a 
 noble and pure soul ever offered to its God, had 
 sacrificed her youth, her repose, her health, all her 
 natural feelings of repugnance, to devote herself to 
 the direction of this house, and to share the asylum 
 and the penance of these erring women. She was 
 obliged to provide subsistence every day for three 
 hundred persons ; and for thirty-six years she had suc- 
 ceeded in doing this by her heroic confidence in God, 
 who was her only resource. She asked nothing from 
 men, and, although the house had no revenue, re- 
 fused even the most magnificent offers of patronage 
 from those who seemed ambitious of the glory of aid- 
 ing her. " God alone is sufficient for us," she said ; 
 *' I labor for him, and I rely upon him alone ; if I 
 
HOSPITALS. — SISTERS OF CHARITY. 209 
 
 should ask favors from men, they would fail me at 
 last, for men always fail those who trust in them ; 
 and then if I should have recourse to God, he would 
 send me back to men, whom I had preferred to him ; 
 instead of which, confiding only in him, I can say 
 to him, 'My God, you have intrusted your children 
 to my care ; you have placed me at the head of your 
 institution ; I have called only upon you ; I claim 
 your protection ; I implore you to come to my aid.' 
 In case of need, I would speak thus to God," ^aid 
 she, "and he would hear me." God did in fact 
 manifest that he heard her, more than once ; the 
 community had often witnessed, in moments of dis- 
 tress, when they wanted even bread, extraordinary 
 answers to her prayers, which it is difficult to ac- 
 count for without the aid of a miracle. The Arch- 
 bishop, therefore, revered her as a saint worthy of 
 the first ages of the church,* and there was no one 
 whom he esteemed more highly. 
 
 Next to the House of Refuge, Archbishop Chev- 
 erus took the most tender interest in the hospitals, 
 where were collected the various victims of human 
 misery ; the sick, the infirm, the aged, the insane, 
 
 * Such was also Monseigneur d'Aviau's opinion of her. 
 Some one related to him one day an extraordinary occur- 
 rence, which many sensible persons esteemed truly miracu- 
 lous, which took place in answer to the prayers of Mademoi- 
 selle de Lamouroux. " I am not surprised at what you tell 
 me," replied the holy Archbishop ; "but I should indeed won- 
 der if one so holy did not perform miracles." 
 18* 
 
210 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and foundling children. He visited them often, and 
 as he approached these abodes, his paternal heart 
 was melted with compassion ; he passed through the 
 halls where so many wretched beings were lying on 
 beds of pain, approached them with kindness, and 
 addressed them in words of consolation. He was hap- 
 py to see the good order and neatness that everywhere 
 prevailed, and all the care of a kind mother lavished 
 upon the sick by the worthy Sisters of Charity, to 
 whom these establishments are confided ; and such 
 was his admiration, that he could find no words to 
 express his respect and esteem for them. When 
 they fell on their knees to ask his benediction, he 
 could have wished, he said, to receive theirs; "for 
 how full of blessings must those hands be, which are 
 employed only in acts of charity!" Whenever they 
 asked any thing of him, they were sure beforehand 
 of obtaining it ; he declared that he could refuse them 
 nothing, and, in consideration of this, begged them 
 to be prudent in their requests, and to make them 
 first the subject of devout meditation. His respect 
 for them was so great, that whenever he was preach- 
 ing, if he perceived a Sister of Charity among the con- 
 gregation, one might divine beforehand what the sub- 
 ject of his discourse would be, that the praise of the 
 daughters of St. Vincent de Paul would soon rise from 
 his heart to his hps. " They are," said he, " the high- 
 est glory of religion, the best manifestation of grace, 
 the most striking proof of the divinity of Catholicism." 
 
HIS ATTENDANCE AT THE CHAMBER OF PEERS. 211 
 
 And he stated, in connexion with this subject, that the 
 Protestants of America, having complained because a 
 hospital was confided to the care of the Sisters of 
 Charity, were silenced by the reply, that their com- 
 plaints should be attended to when their own ministers 
 should form such angels, as these sisters, in devoted- 
 ness, in zeal, in gentleness, and tenderness towards 
 all sufferers. 
 
 It was a fresh source of regret to Archbishop Chev- 
 erus every year, when he was compelled to tear 
 himself from a diocese where he effected so much 
 good, and sustained and encouraged so many works 
 of charity, and go to Paris to attend the sessions 
 of the Chamber of Peers. He made amends at such 
 times for whatever he was prevented from doing at 
 Bordeaux, by accomplishing all the good in his power, 
 in the heart of the capital. Thence he governed his 
 diocese ; all matters relating to it were communicated 
 to him, with the opinion of the council on each, and he 
 pronounced the final judgment upon them. There, 
 he called the attention of the several departments of 
 government to whatever was interesting to religion 
 within the hmits of his jurisdiction ; he even conde- 
 scended to attend to business belonging to others, in 
 order to oblige them, and carried his kindness so far, 
 as to undertake commissions that would have seemed 
 beneath the dignity of a Peer of France and an 
 Archbishop, were it not that charity elevates and 
 ennobles whatever she performs. If he was invited 
 
212 J^-IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 to preach, he always manifested that readiness to 
 oblige which can refuse nothing. He pronounced one 
 day as many as seventeen different discourses for the 
 benediction of seventeen statues of the Greek and 
 Latin Fathers ; * and his perfect description of the 
 characters, the writings, the virtues, and the remarkable 
 acts of each of these Fathers ; the knowledge of his- 
 tory, and the grace and facility of elocution displayed 
 by him, demonstrated to all that his talents and learning 
 were equal to his kindness. He was never deterred 
 even by circumstances the most difficult and trying to 
 a preacher, because he counted his reputation as 
 nothing, and the good to be done as every thing ; and 
 the blessings which God bestows on such a disposition 
 of heart, joined to his own ready intelligence, obtained 
 for him, on many occasions, a gratifying success. Being 
 invited to preach on Good Friday before the Polytech- 
 nic School, it was greatly feared that he would not be 
 able to obtain a hearing. An illustrious Archbishop, 
 in spite of his graces of language and his high birth, 
 had failed here the preceding year ; the students, by 
 their tumultuous conduct, having forced him to leave 
 the pulpit. Archbishop Cheverus came, and took for 
 his text these words of the Apostle : " I determined 
 not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, 
 and him crucified : Non judicavi me scire aliquid 
 inter vos nisi Jesum Christum et hunc crucijixum.^^ 
 
 * This circumstance took place at Conflans, a country 
 house of the Seminary of Saint Nicholas, near Paris. 
 
HIS SERMONS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS IN PARIS. 213 
 
 " If it were my intention," he went on to say to 
 them, " to speak of human science, I should first come 
 to take lessons in this learned school, and from your- 
 selves, Gentlemen ; but I am to treat this day of the 
 science of the cross ; this is my peculiar science, the 
 science which I have studied and preached for forty 
 years, among civilized nations, as well as among sav- 
 age people, because it equally concerns all ; and you 
 will permit an aged bishop to communicate to you 
 the result of his long studies." So insinuating an 
 exordium won all hearts ; they listened to every 
 word of the aged bishop in the most perfect silence, 
 with the most sustained attention, and the liveliest 
 interest ; and the Archbishop retired as well pleased 
 with the young men as they were with him. 
 
 Some time after, he was invited to preach before the 
 Irish Seminary ; but, on account of the slight knowl- 
 edge of the French language possessed by the students, 
 it was necessary that his sermon should be in English. 
 The Archbishop accepted the invitation, and surprised 
 his whole audience by the facility of his elocution, the 
 propriety of his expressions, and the graces of his style. 
 It was evident that he had forgotten nothing of that lan- 
 guage, and that he was still as familiar with it as when 
 he was in America. He was equally successful in a 
 charity sermon, preached before a numerous assembly 
 of ladies of the court. His object was to recommend 
 to the generosity of his audience those families of La 
 Vendee, whom the misfortune of war had reduced to 
 
214 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERaS. 
 
 indigence, by depriving them of a father, a brother, or a 
 son, who was their only support. Bishop Cheverus 
 was deeply interested in his subject ; he had taken for 
 his text these words from the Psalms : " Take care of 
 the children of those who are dead : Posside Jilios 
 mortijicaiorum ; " and the plan of his discourse, his 
 train of thought, was arranged in his mind. But, 
 just as he was about to commence, he was informed 
 that the Dauphiness and the Duchess de Berry were to 
 be present at the sermon. This information discon- 
 certed him a little at first. Politeness required him to 
 say something complimentary to the two princesses, and 
 perhaps to represent the facts of the case in a pecular 
 manner ; but there was no time to think about it ; 
 he must commence directly. Soon, however, recov- 
 ering his presence of mind, and overcoming his first 
 apprehensions, he spoke with so much judgment and 
 pertinency, said so well and so gracefully what was 
 proper to be said, that he merited the very gracious 
 compliment which he received from the lips of the 
 King himself, on the following occasion. Charles the 
 Tenth, who had heard of the sermon preached be- 
 fore the Irish the preceding week, congratulated the 
 Archbishop, when he saw him, on the ease with which 
 he preached in English. "Sire," replied the Arch- 
 bishop, with his usual modesty, which always sought 
 to qualify the praise bestowed on him, " I deserve 
 very little credit for that which your Majesty is 
 pleased to commend ; for though I am ashamed to say 
 
HIS INTERVIEWS WITH CHARLES THE TENTH. 215 
 
 SO before the King of France, I am much more famil- 
 iar with the English than with the French." *' You 
 preach, however, very well in French," graciously 
 replied Charles the Tenth, " for the Dauphiness 
 heard you the other day, and she was enchanted." 
 
 This Prince was singularly fond of conversing with 
 the Archbishop of Bordeaux. Harassed at that time 
 by the hostile charges against his government, daily 
 repeated in the name of liberty, he questioned him 
 upon the state of things in the United States ; and 
 Archbishop Cheverus informed him of the entire lib- 
 erty that religion and education there enjoy. " In 
 the United States," said he, alluding to the demands 
 made in certain public prints of that period, *' I could 
 have sent missionaries to all the churches, have found- 
 ed many seminaries everywhere, and confided the di- 
 rection of them to the Jesuits, and no one would ever 
 have thought of making any objection ; all opposition 
 to these acts would have been regarded as tyrannical, 
 as a violation of the rights of liberty ; there, I might 
 have refused burial to any one who did not appear to 
 me worthy of it, and the idea of obliging me to grant 
 it would have seemed ridiculous." The King re- 
 plied, with a sigh, " These men at least understand 
 liberty ; when will it be understood among our- 
 selves ? ^ They then conversed upon the wel- 
 fare of France, the means of securing it, and the ob- 
 stacles in the way of it. In this frequent intercourse 
 with the Archbishop of Bordeaux, Charles the Tenth 
 
216 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 conceived such a high esteem for him, that he then 
 thought of soliciting a Cardinal's hat for him at the 
 Court of Rome. The execution of this project was 
 suspended only in consequence of a change in the 
 njinistry, and the perplexity that soon after occurred 
 in the affairs of the government. This we learn 
 from the letter of a former minister of Charles the 
 Tenth, which we found among the papers of Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus. '' I regret," writes this minister to 
 him, on the 25th of February, 1836, "I regret, for 
 the sake of those who now have and will ever possess 
 my affection, that you were not made a Cardinal 
 seven years ago ; I wish you, at least, to know th^t 
 such was the intention of the Prince, who honored me 
 with his confidence, and, I need not add, it was also 
 that of his ministers." 
 
 It was not at court, only, that the merits of the 
 Archbishop of Bordeaux were appreciated ; every- 
 body sought to enjoy the charms of his conversation, 
 and was happy in his society. Many peers of France, 
 struck with the graceful and lively remarks which he 
 introduced so appropriately, visited him at his hotel, 
 and invited him to their meetings. The Archbishop 
 sometimes attended them, but still with some reserve; 
 for he never wished to be present at political meet- 
 ings, held by the opposition party." " It is not," he 
 said, *' in accordance with my character, and still less 
 so with the feelings of my heart, to promote opposi- 
 tion ; I wish to serve the Government sincerely, to 
 
APPOINTED PRESIDENT OP AN ELECTORAL COLLEGE. 217 
 
 aid it by my co-operation, and not to put obstacles 
 in its way." But, if the Archbishop of Bordeaux 
 found some enjoyment during his residence in Paris, 
 while attending the sessions of the Chamber, it was 
 counterbalanced by many troubles. 
 
 The first unpleasant circumstance that occurred 
 was his being chosen by Charles the Tenth to pre- 
 side over the Electoral College of Mayenne. The 
 King, in sending to the electors of that department a 
 president so beloved and venerated, thought that their 
 regard for his character, his person, and his wishes, 
 would lead them to nominate a deputy friendly to the 
 government ; but Archbishop Cheverus, knowing the 
 disposition of their minds, far from flattering himself 
 with such success, despaired of being able to fulfil his 
 mission to the satisfaction of the King ; it was there- 
 fore with extreme reluctance that he accepted the ap- 
 pointment ; and it required all his spirit of obedience 
 and devotion to the person of Charles the Tenth, to 
 induce him to do so. He acquitted himself, however, 
 of the duties of this commission with all the zeal that 
 might have been expected from him ; and described 
 to the electors, in a very forcible manner, the character 
 of the deputy whom he desired to- obtain from them. 
 " I do not pretend,'* he said to them, '^ to prescribe to 
 you whom you ought to choose ; I am here only to 
 assure myself of your choice, and to proclaim it ; but 
 I should do violence to my own feelings, and be un- 
 faithful to you, if I did not say that I expect you to 
 19 
 
218 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 choose a deputy who is a friend to religion, to legit- 
 imacy, to monarchy, to the King and his august family ; 
 a deputy who is well persuaded that both the charter 
 and our institutions, in order to the security of our lib- 
 erty and happiness, have especial need of a powerful, 
 paternal, and protecting authority, to maintain and de- 
 fend them against license ; a deputy, in short, whose 
 truly loyal heart thrills, in unison with ours, with love 
 and gratitude at the very name of our beloved Charles 
 the Tenth." Nothing could have been said more to 
 the purpose ; yet the Archbishop, as he had foreseen, 
 did not obtain what he desired, and the deputy elected 
 went to take his seat, with many others, on the 
 benches of the opposition. After the mortification of 
 an unsuccessful mission, he returned to Paris, where 
 difficulties and opposition of another kind, very painful 
 to his feelings, awaited him. 
 
 The most violent complaints against the Jesuits, and 
 what was called the priest-party^ at that time were 
 heard daily from the public journals, and even from the 
 tribune of the two legislative chambers. In so critical 
 a juncture, Charles the Tenth believed it his duty to 
 sacrifice the Jesuits, that he might save the rest of 
 the clergy ; to lay restrictions upon the lower sem- 
 inaries, in order to save them from entire destruc- 
 tion. At the first news of this determination of the 
 King, the whole body of bishops was in consterna- 
 tion ; the Archbishop of Bordeaux was himself as 
 much concerned as any one. He must part with the 
 Jesuits, who rendered the most important services in 
 
DECREE OP THE KING AGAINST THE JESUITS. 219 
 
 his diocese; he was about to lose one of his lower 
 seminaries ; in short, he foresaw the disastrous conse- 
 quences which this measure would bring upon every 
 thing connected with rehgion in France. All the 
 archbishops and bishops who were in Paris appeared 
 at court, represented to the King the great injury 
 he was about to inflict upon rehgion, and neglected 
 no consideration that might avert the blow with 
 which they were threatened. But the King had 
 taken his resolution ; he believed the measure neces- 
 sary to the peace of the state, and, on the 16th of 
 June, 1828, he signed the two ordinances, one of 
 which excluded the Jesuits from the education of 
 youth, and the other imposed trammels and restric- 
 tions on the lower seminaries. A universal protest 
 followed this step ; all the Catholics in France sound- 
 ed the cry of alarm ; and the whole body of bishops, 
 stunned by this blow, were uncertain what part to 
 take. Many protested, believing that the resistance 
 of the House of the bishops might, perhaps, arrest the 
 execution of the ordinances, and prevent the evils which 
 they would bring upon religion and France. Some 
 others,* among whom was the Archbishop of Bordeaux, 
 
 * Of the small number of prelates who thought with Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus was Monseigneur Brault, formerly Bishop of 
 Bayeux, and at that time Archbishop of Alby, a prelate of emi- 
 nent merit, and one of the brightest ornaments of the church 
 of France. He was the intimate friend of the Archbishop of 
 Bordeaux, who said that he had always had the happiness of 
 agreeing with him on all subjects. 
 
220 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 thinking the evil irremediably done, believed that these 
 protests of the bishops could bring about no useful 
 result ; that the government would not retract after 
 having gone so far as it had done, and that resist- 
 ance would therefore end only in the entire ruin of 
 the lower seminaries ; and, moreover, that, if it were 
 necessary sooner or later to submit, or to annihilate 
 the priesthood at its very source by shutting up the 
 ecclesiastical schools, it would be better to submit at 
 once than to offer resistance and be obliged to yield 
 afterwards. 
 
 This last opinion, the wisdom of which subsequent 
 events have confirmed, was at first very unwelcome, 
 and was indeed openly censured by many. Instead 
 of examining the grounds on which it rested, and 
 which were so well supported by reason, they were 
 influenced only by their regret for what they were 
 about to lose, to a love of good which acted without 
 reflection, and the deceptive remarks of certain jour- 
 nals ; and hence they concluded that those, who 
 would not protest against the ordinances, w^ere by 
 this single circumstance convicted of hostility to the 
 Jesuits, and of sacrificing the existence of their 
 lower seminaries to a base pusillanimity. The Arch- 
 bishop of Bordeaux was troubled to find such a bad 
 construction put upon his conduct, and his true senti- 
 ments so basely calumniated. Nevertheless, strong in 
 an approving conscience, he did not suffer himself 
 to be dejected or shaken by this trial j he endured 
 
HIS MOTIVES MISINTERPRETED. 221 
 
 it with the cahnness of a Christian, the dignity of a 
 bishop, and the charity of an apostle. In a letter 
 to one of his grand-vicars on this subject, which we 
 copy exactly, he wrote as follows: *' Throughout 
 this affair, I have consulted God, my conscience, and 
 men pre-eminent in dignity, in learning, and in piety. 
 In the course of my life, I have been praised so much 
 beyond my deserts, that I ought not to complain if I 
 am now blamed. If I need to be humbled, I will bless 
 the Lord for it, and will gladly return to the obscure 
 poverty from which, God knows, I have riseoi in spite 
 
 of myself. Salute all my friends ; assure them, 
 
 that, if any of them should change their opinion of 
 me, I shall love them still." The conduct of Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus corresponded to these noble senti- 
 ments. He neither sought to justify himself nor to 
 give prevalence to his opinions ; he was satisfied that 
 others should think differently from him, and loved 
 them not the less for it ; he even suffered contradic- 
 tion in silence ; and one day, when a person, carried 
 away by a zeal more ardent than charitable, allowed 
 himself to address harsh reproaches and offensive lan- 
 guage to him on this subject, the Archbishop suffered 
 him to say without interruption whatever he pleased, 
 and when he had finished, merely said, with perfect 
 mildness, these few words : " I thank God, Sir, that 
 he has given me grace not to reply to you in the tone 
 in which you have spoken to me." 
 19* 
 
222 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 The Jesuits were more just to Archbishop Chev- 
 erus, and honored him for his sentiments in regard 
 to them. They recounted from the pulpit of truth, 
 the numerous proofs of affection they had received 
 from him, and their grief in being separated from 
 a prelate who loved them so tenderly. * In fact. 
 Archbishop Cheverus had, all his life, loved the 
 Jesuits ; in America they were his friends, f and he 
 had urged the Holy See to choose bishops for the 
 United States from their society. He had represented 
 them to the Pope as religious men, whose eminent 
 merit, piety towards God, zeal for the salvation 
 of souls, and indefatigable labors were above all 
 praise ; as apostles, who had planted the faith in that 
 country, and nurtured it by their toils ; and who 
 still maintained and propagated it there continually. 
 " All," said he, " unite in desiring that bishops 
 may be chosen from their body, who will walk in 
 the steps of their predecessors, and be animated by 
 the same spiiit."| These sentiments, which Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus entertained towards the Jesuits in 
 America, he still felt in France. At Bordeaux he 
 
 * The discourse pronounced on this subject in the cathedral 
 by Father Varlet, Superior of the lower seminary, was among 
 the most remarkable. 
 
 f See, in proof of this, the Second Book of this work, pp. 122, 
 124, 125. 
 
 I "Patressocietatis Jesu, quorum eximisB dotes, pietas in De- 
 um, pro animarum salute zelus, et labores indefessi nunquam 
 satis commendari possunt, catholicam fidem in his regionibus 
 
HIS LOVE FOR THE JESUITS. 223 
 
 often visited the lower seminary, which was under 
 their care ; and testified the tenderest affection and 
 most sincere esteem for them. On their departure, he 
 pubHcly expressed his grief in losing them ; and, that 
 he might retain at least some of them, he offered them 
 a house near his palace, and gave those who remained 
 there six thousand francs [twelve hundred dollars] a 
 year for their expenses. He did more ; in order to 
 preserve for them the seminary at Bordeaux, in case 
 any change of circumstances should allow them to re- 
 sume the business of instruction, he removed to it at 
 great expense, and notwithstanding many opposing 
 reasons, all the students of the ecclesiastical institution 
 established at Bazas. " This removal costs a great 
 deal," said he, " and it is a very sad thing to our 
 young men ; it has but one advantage, which is, to 
 prove that 1 love the Jesuits." 
 
 In the mean time. Archbishop Cheverus, amid the 
 storms by which God tries and purifies the virtue of 
 his chosen, was actively engaged in the administra- 
 tion of his diocese, and neglected no opportunity of 
 doing good in it. Zealous priests dispersed them- 
 
 plantaverunt, sudoribus rigaverunt, hodieque fovent et propa- 
 
 gant Quis non exoptet inter eosdem Patres unum eligi, 
 
 qui praBdecessorum vestigiis inhserens eodemque spiritu afflatus 
 ecclesisB Americanse exhibeat acceptissimum et utilissimum 
 prsesulem ? " 
 
 This letter related to the office of Assistant Bishop of Bal- 
 timore, which Archbishop Cheverus wished should be given 
 to one of the Jesuits. 
 
224 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 selves by his orders through the least religious par- 
 ishes, preached the gospel to the people with the 
 charity of good pastors, and made them acquainted 
 with that religion of which they had hitherto been ig- 
 norant, or which they had, at least, entirely forgotten. 
 When ignorance was once dissipated, when the love of 
 virtue was revived in their souls with the knowledge 
 of truth, then the Archbishop repaired to the spot, 
 and, by the power and unction of his preaching, fin- 
 ished the work which the missionaries had begun, 
 and distributed to the renovated people the bread 
 of heaven, and the grace of confirmation. 
 
 In other cases, the pastors themselves prepared their 
 flocks for his visitation ; and when, through their in- 
 structions and zealous efforts, the faithful were made 
 ready, they gave him notice of it, and he immediately 
 went to them. This was generally in the winter sea- 
 son, a time when the people, less occupied with the 
 labors of the field, could most conveniently attend to 
 religious exercises ; and the journey then became some- 
 times exceedingly uncomfortable. He was obliged to 
 expose himself to excessive cold, enough to appall 
 the most intrepid courage, to face an icy wind sweep- 
 ing unobstructed over that uncultivated part of his 
 diocese which borders on the sea.* But no personal 
 consideration could deter Archbishop Cheverus, or 
 induce him to choose a more pleasant season for his 
 
 * In January, 1830, the Archbishop travelled through the 
 Landes, in Gascony, when the mercury stood below the zero 
 of Fahrenheit's thermometer. 
 
HIS WINTER JOURNEYS. 225 
 
 visitations. "That which would be most comfortable 
 for me," said he, " would be the most inconvenient to 
 the poor people ; I must take the time that suits them 
 best." The inhabitants of the country themselves 
 could not repress their astonishment at the si<(ht of 
 such courageous zeal. " What a wonderful thin":," ex- 
 claimed a poor woman, in her simple language, which 
 we shall be pardoned for repeating, " what a won- 
 derful thing, to see such a man, in such a country, 
 in such weather!" Yet, in the midst of the physical 
 sufferings which the Archbishop had to endure in his 
 journeys, he never complained ; and when others 
 seemed to pity him, he answered them with some 
 good-natured pleasantry, and was always as cheerful 
 as if he had not suffered at all ; or he turned the 
 conversation upon the poor, who, without fire, thinly 
 clad, and miserably fed, deserved, he said, all our 
 compassion. 
 
 On his return from these apostolical journeys, he was 
 diligently engaged at Bordeaux in every pious work. 
 He often visited religious communities whom the rules 
 of the cloister deprived of the benefit of coming to 
 the archiepiscopal palace to ask his advice and receive 
 his counsel ; he addressed each in the most suitable 
 language ; calmed by a word the troubles of tender 
 consciences, and instructed them in the ways of ho- 
 liness. He often visited private houses also, where 
 he suspected his ministry might be useful ; and did 
 not decline entering even the humblest abodes of 
 
226 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 misery, when he thought he could do any good there. 
 Sometimes he went to console a persoa afflicted by 
 the death of a near relative, or by some great reverse 
 of fortune ; sometimes, to encourage one who was sick, 
 and revive his hopes ; to prepare the way for, or to 
 effect, a reconciliation, or to recommend some good 
 work ; at another time, to congratulate parents-upon the 
 success and good conduct of their children, and thus 
 testify to the w^hole family that they had in him a ten- 
 der father, who shared their joys as well as their 
 sorrows ; and again, to urge some one at the point of 
 death, who had resisted the solicitations of his pastor, 
 to accept at last the comforts of religion, and not 
 expose himself to fall into the hands of the Sovereign 
 Judge of his eternal destiny, without having been re- 
 conciled to him. At such times he approached the 
 sick person with an air of kindness, compassionated 
 his sufferings, offered him consolation, and by soft 
 persuasion penetrated his heart, and induced him to 
 receive the last sacrament, and confessed him himself 
 if he expressed a desire that he should do so. There 
 were also visits of another kind, in which the charity 
 of the Archbishop manifested itself in the most touch- 
 ing manner; I mean those which he made to his 
 sick or infirm priests. As soon as he learned that 
 one of them was attacked by any malady, he went 
 to visit him as soon as possible, seated himself near 
 his bed of pain, spoke to him with paternal tender- 
 ness and kindness, encouraged him to be patient, and 
 
HIS APOSTOLICAL LABORS IN HIS PALACE. 227 
 
 if he perceived that he was in want, contrived to 
 aid him secretly, and with a delica -y that was care- 
 ful not to wound his feehngs. It was not only the 
 aged priests who thus excited his interest ; he has 
 been frequently seen with young ecclesiastics, who 
 could not yet have acquired any other claim upon 
 his tenderness, than what their character and suffer- 
 ing state gave them. Nor did he confine his charity 
 to a single visit ; he went to see his dear patients as 
 often as possible, and when his occupations prevented 
 his seeing them in person, he toc.k care to be in- 
 formed of their condition, and sent one of his priests 
 to visit them on his behalf, or charged some one to 
 give him daily intelligence respecting them. 
 
 The Archbishop accomplished as much good at 
 home, and without leaving his palace, as he did 
 abroad. As he was accessible to persons of every 
 description, and at all hours of the day, people came 
 to consult him in all trying and delicate circumstances. 
 Timorous souls came to reveal to him their anxieties 
 and troubles of conscience ; men, who had long been 
 estranged from all religious observances, sometimes 
 even shaken in faith, came to open to him their 
 hearts, and lay before him their difficulties and re- 
 morse, the obstacles that impeded, and the doubts 
 which agitated them ; and he gave them upon all 
 these points explanations which imparted light to 
 their minds, with useful counsels and encouragement 
 which won them to virtue ; and then, if they desired 
 
228 LTFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 it, he even heard their confestjions, and, after the 
 necessary probation, reconciled them to God, and was 
 the means of their becoming exemplary Christians. 
 He welcomed with particular kindness those persons 
 who had devoted theniselves to works of benevolence. 
 He regarded them as co-operators in his episcopal 
 labors, and esteemed himself happy in doing what- 
 ever could give them pleasure. This was often ex- 
 perienced in particular by the Ladies of the Mission^ 
 an interesting association, wholly devoted to good 
 works, which was formed at Bordeaux at the pe- 
 riod of the Mission there in 1817. These virtuous 
 women, still glowing with the fervor that prompted 
 the formation of their society, and which they re- 
 kindle every year in a retreat which they hold at 
 the cathedral, sustained unaided, for many years, 
 an establishment w4iere a great number of young 
 orphan girls were trained up in piety and the knowl- 
 edge suited to their condition, happy to find a 
 mother's place thus supplied. Touched with this 
 self-devotion. Archbishop Cheverus was ready to com- 
 ply with all their wishes. He assembled them in a 
 chapel adjoining his palace, and there, whenever they 
 desired it, he dispensed to them the divine word, 
 instructed them in the duties that a Christian woman 
 has to perform in the world, and gave them right 
 views of true piety. 
 
 In the midst of all these labors, the Archbishop 
 received a new fellow-laborer, who was endeared to 
 
HIS CONDUCT IN RELATION TO HIS NEPHEW. 229 
 
 him by more than one tie, — the Abbe George, his 
 nephew, who, after having passed four years at the 
 Seminary of St. Sulpicius, at Paris, in the study of 
 ecclesiastical science, and the practice of piety, had 
 just been promoted to the priesthood. His tenderness 
 for him equalled that of a father for his child ; but still 
 he made no concessions in his favor to the claims of 
 blood and friendship ; he chose that he should be simply 
 a parish vicar, subject to all the obligations of that 
 office, without any distinction. After a certain time, 
 the Metropolitan Chapter, w^ishing to number in its 
 own ranks a priest who seemed so worthy of the 
 honor, came in a body to ask it as a favor of the 
 Archbishop that he would make him an honorary can- 
 on, at least; but it was in vain. The Archbishop, after 
 having thanked the canons for this expression of their 
 good-will, replied, that his nephew had not yet la- 
 bored sufficiently to merit that distinction, and that 
 he had too good an opinion of him to think that he 
 desired it. 
 
 To the pleasure which Archbishop Cheverus found 
 in the company of the Abbe George was soon added 
 another, which recalled to him the pleasant days of his 
 youth. The Abbe Maccarthy, his old school-fellow 
 and friend at the Seminary of St. Magloire, but now a 
 Jesuit, and the most celebrated preacher in France, 
 came to Bordeaux, to preach during Advent. The 
 tender and cordial friendship, which, after so long an 
 interval, still subsisted between the Archbishop and the 
 20 
 
230 l-IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Jesuit Father, was very touching. In all their inter- 
 course with each other, there was a delightful ease, 
 a noble simplicity, an amiable sprightliness, and a 
 cordiality, which, however, never degenerated into 
 familiarity ; for this was incompatible with the high 
 esteem which two such distinguished men entertained 
 for each other. They talked over the happy days 
 passed at the Seminary, consulted together, and the 
 Archbishop communicated to the preacher, without 
 evasion or flattery, what he thought of the plan and 
 composition of each sermon. 
 
 While Archbishop Cheverus, in the retirement of 
 his diocese, abandoned himself with delight to the 
 sweet intercourse of friendship, he was not forgotten 
 at court ; and Charles the Tenth delighted in giving 
 him tokens of his esteem and confidence. He had 
 already wished to make him Minister of Ecclesiastical 
 Affairs, and the Archbishop had refused in the most 
 decided manner, as well because his humility made 
 him averse to high station, as because he heard the 
 meanings of the storm which was about to burst upon 
 France, and despaired of being able to avert it. 
 Already, in November, 1828, his Majesty had named 
 him Counsellor of State, and authorized him to take 
 part in the deliberations of the Council, and in the 
 business of the various committees composing it. This 
 year, 1830, he added to this title one of the most 
 honorable which a king of France can confer; he 
 appointed him a commander of the order of the Holy 
 
COMMANDER OF THE ORDER OP THE HOLY GHOST. 231 
 
 Ghost ; and this appointment, which was conferred 
 at the same time on Monseigneur de Quelen, Arch- 
 bishop of Paris, was the last made by Charles the 
 Tenth. M. de Peyronnet, then Minister of the In- 
 terior, was commissioned to announce this honorable 
 promotion to Archbishop Cheverus, and he did it 
 with the more pleasure, because he loved and es- 
 teemed him. More than once he had opened to 
 him his heart, with the most unreserved confidence 
 and friendship, and was always heard with tender in- 
 terest, favored with judicious counsel, and found conso- 
 lation under the severe afflictions that often wrung his 
 heart. Alas ! he did not then foresee all those troubles 
 with which the future was so soon to overwhelm him. 
 " The Blue Ribhon,^^ he said in his letter to the 
 Archbishop, "will add nothing to your virtue and 
 merit ; but it will prove that the King is acquainted 
 with them, values them, and delights to honor them." 
 The Archbishop received this notice with gratitude 
 for the kindness of the King, but with indifference 
 as it regarded himself personally. His mind was at 
 that time wholly intent on the storm which he saw 
 gathering over France ; he looked forward with ap- 
 prehension to the moment when it should burst upon 
 his country ; and this apprehension cast a shade of 
 sadness over his soul, which prevented him from giving 
 himself up to any enjoyment. " We have," said 
 he, " fallen upon such evil days, society is in a state 
 of such fearful crisis, that every sentiment of charity 
 
232 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 must be dead before we can be moved by personal 
 interests. Public misfortunes alone ought to affect 
 us." Some time after, the important news of the 
 taking of Algiers by the French army reached Bor- 
 deaux. The Archbishop rejoiced at it, as did all 
 good Frenchmen, and all friends of humanity ; but 
 his joy was by no means triumphant ; victory abroad 
 did not seem to him a pledge of peace at home, and 
 the result proved but too well that his view of the 
 state of society was correct. 
 
MAINTAINS PEACE IN HIS DIOCESE. 233 
 
 BOOK FOURTH. 
 
 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS, FROM THE REVOLUTION OF 
 JULY, 1830, TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. 
 
 We have now reached the last epoch in the hfe 
 of Archbishop Cheverus. This, Hke the preceding, 
 but still more remarkably, was fruitful in good works, 
 in tribulation, and in testimonies of esteem and vene- 
 ration from all men. Amidst the troubles that agi- 
 tated France at the commencement of this period, and 
 which it is not our province to record, the Archbishop 
 of Bordeaux first signalized his wisdom by the peace 
 he maintained throughout his diocese, and the perfect 
 tranquillity which his priests, without exception, were 
 enabled to enjoy, as in the most prosperous times. 
 The new authorities established at Bordeaux, like the 
 former, entertaining that profound respect for him 
 which was the common sentiment with men of differ- 
 ent opinions, as well as of all classes, esteemed it an 
 honor and a duty to consult him and act in concert 
 with him. The Archbishop responded to these man- 
 ifestations of good-will by courteous conduct, and en- 
 deavoured to turn to the advantage of religion the 
 consideration and respect that were felt for him per- 
 sonally. The best understanding subsisted, at least 
 20* 
 
234 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 subsequently to 1831, between the authorities and him, 
 as well as among the different authorities themselves. 
 A more entire union, a more perfect concurrence of 
 views and of efforts to do good, could not be de- 
 sired ; and the Archbishop was the soul of this har- 
 mony, the bond of this union, and the centre of all 
 hearts. Hence resulted this remarkable consequence ; 
 that, while the rest of France was in a state of agita- 
 tion and disturbance, and in almost every part of it 
 the very earth seemed to tremble beneath men's feet, 
 the diocese of Bordeaux continued always quiet and 
 peaceable, its clergy honored and respected, and its 
 Archbishop venerated and beloved by all. All meas- 
 ures, even in the slightest degree important to the pub- 
 lic good, were adopted in concert with him. He was 
 summoned to deliberate upon them, and requested to 
 preside at the meetings. All affairs, in which any of 
 the clergy were interested or involved, were referred 
 entirely to his decision ; he was the final judge and 
 arbiter of them ; so great was the fear of paining him 
 by giving pain to his clergy, or by the adoption of any 
 measure that might be unpleasant to him. 
 
 Archbishop Cheverus was held in the same high 
 consideration at Paris as at Bordeaux ; great respect 
 was there paid to his opinions, and his influence was 
 powerful. Reserved as he was, and little disposed 
 to put himself forward, or to mingle in affairs that 
 were not immediately connected with the duties of 
 his office, he availed himself but little of this influ- 
 
HIS INFLUENCE WITH THE GOVERNMENT. 235 
 
 ence ; but when he did exert it, it was almost always 
 with success, for the good of the church and the ben- 
 efit of religion. It is well known, that, in the com- 
 mencement of the revolution, it was proposed to re- 
 quire of priests in office, as well as of public function- 
 aries, the oath of fidelity to the new government. On 
 the first hint of this intention that reached the Arch- 
 bishop of Bordeaux, he hastened to write to an influ- 
 ential personage, convinced him that this measure 
 was alike impolitic and disastrous; that it would 
 embarrass the government, disturb the clergy, and 
 alarm the people ; and that the consequence would 
 be a division like that of the priests who took and 
 those who declined taking the oath in the time of the 
 first revolution. " I will be answerable for my cler- 
 gy," said he, " if the oath is not demanded ; but if it 
 is, I will answer for nothing." This letter was submit- 
 ted to the inspection of the King, and was effectual. 
 It was immediately decreed that the oath should not be 
 demanded ; and the Archbishop of Bordeaux had the 
 consolation of having rendered an immense service to 
 the church of France, by preventing all the evils that 
 would have resulted from exacting the oath. 
 
 The high consideration in which Archbishop Chev- 
 erus was everywhere held, inspired many members 
 of the government with the idea and the wish of re- 
 instating him in the dignity of a peer of France, of 
 which he had been divested by the revolution of 
 July ; of calhng him to Paris, and associating him 
 with the new order of things. It appears, even, that 
 
236 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 the deputies of the department of the Gironde had 
 earnestly soHcited for him the honors of office ; and the 
 Archbishop had every reason to fear that he should 
 be forced from his retreat. He had already been 
 sounded on this subject, and, fearing lest the mani- 
 festation of reluctance on his part would not suffice 
 to prevent all the designs that might be formed in 
 relation to him, he wished to put a stop at once to 
 all these attempts, and published in the journals of 
 the capital a solemn declaration, in which he an- 
 nounced his firm determination to accept of no office 
 in the state, and to live and die in the midst of his 
 flock, aloof from the career of politics, wholly devoted 
 to his ministry of peace, of charity, and of union.* 
 
 It is well worthy of notice, that the Archbishop of 
 Bordeaux was everywhere beloved, courted, and hon- 
 ored. The new government, like the former, was de- 
 sirous that he should be connected with it ; and yet 
 the Archbishop had done nothing with a view to ob- 
 tain this high consideration ; he had not purchased 
 it by any concession which was not common to him 
 
 * Declaration of the Archbishop of Bordeaux. 
 "Without approving the exclusion pronounced against 
 the peers created by Charles the Tenth, I rejoice to find 
 myself removed from a political career, and have firmly 
 resolved not to return to it, nor to accept of any situation or 
 ofiice. My desire is to remain in the midst of my flock, and 
 there continue to exercise a ministry of charity, of peace, and 
 of union. I shall preach submission to the government, and 
 set the example of it ; and my clergy and myself will never 
 
HIS FREEDOM FROM AMBITIOUS MOTIVES. 237 
 
 with the whole episcopal body ; he had not sought 
 it by any act whatever ; he never spoke to the King 
 before the day on which he received the badges 
 of the cardinalship ; he did not appear in Paris un- 
 til this ceremony obliged him to take a journey to 
 that city ; he had even allowed himself in several 
 acts which might have given offence to the govern- 
 ment. His declaration, and the publicity he had giv- 
 en it, had displeased many persons, and the author- 
 ities of Bordeaux even came to complain to him of it. 
 During the captivity of the Duchess of Berry in the 
 citadel of Blaye, he had asked permission to visit her, 
 and offer her the consolations of his ministry ; and, 
 finally, he had even not disguised his sentiments in 
 relation to Charles the Tenth. " I should be unwor- 
 thy of your esteem," he said to the authorities of his 
 episcopal city, " if I should conceal from you my 
 affection for the fallen family ; and you must despise 
 me as an ungrateful man, for Charles the Tenth has 
 loaded me with kindnesses." 
 
 But there was one thing in Archbishop Cheverus, 
 
 cease to pray, with the people of our charge, for the prosperity 
 of our beloved country. 
 
 " I feel more and more attached to the inhabitants of Bor- 
 deaux ; I thank them for the friendship they have testified 
 towards me. It is the wish of my heart to live and die among 
 them ; but without any other titles than those of their Arch- 
 bishop and their friend. 
 
 " -^ John, Archbishop of Bordeaux. 
 
 '^Bordeaux, August 19lh, 1830." 
 
238 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 which commanded esteem, confidence, and venera- 
 tion ; namely, that a boundless charity, which embrac- 
 ed in the same love men of all opinions, constituted 
 his only political creed. It never entered his mind, that 
 we should love any one the less, because his opinions 
 or views were different from our own, as if on that 
 account he ceased to be our brother in Jesus Christ, or 
 were not comprehended in the grand precept, " Love 
 one another as I have loved you.^^ He also treated 
 with equal kindness men of all parties ; he regarded 
 them only as members of his diocese, as brethren and 
 friends ; and it was his happiness to see men of all 
 opinions meet as brethren at his own table, or at 
 the houses of his priests in his pastoral circuits. On 
 these occasions, like his exemplar St. John, he re- 
 peated to them his favorite maxim, '* Let us love one 
 another. If our minds are divided in opinion, let all 
 our hearts be joined in the sentiment of mutual char- 
 ity ; let us be united." No one could help loving 
 politics like these, derived wholly from the gospel ; 
 and, in reality. Archbishop Cheverus had no other. 
 
 Because he had passed twenty-seven years in 
 America, happy and tranquil under a republican 
 government, which declared him one of its best cit- 
 izens, many believed him to be the partisan of lib- 
 eral political institutions ; but Archbishop Cheverus 
 never indulged in theories of his own upon the best 
 form of government ; he considered these deep social 
 problems as placed far above the reach of his under- 
 
HIS CONDUCT IN REFERENCE TO POLITICS. 239 
 
 standing, and he professed to know nothing about 
 them,^ In practice, he adhered to the general prin- 
 ciple followed by the church in all ages, of respect- 
 ing the government under which he lived, whatever 
 it might be, and of maintaining, as far as possible, 
 friendly relations with it, f because religion and soci* 
 ety suffer from the disunion of these two powers, as 
 much as they gain by their agreement. Besides, con- 
 ceiving that, as bishop, he ought to be the pastor, the 
 father, and the friend of all, since he was called to 
 labor for the salvation of all, he wished to merge his 
 political character, that he might appear only in that of 
 a friend. Hence the silence always observed at the 
 archiepiscopal palace respecting politics ; he never 
 spoke of them himself, nor suffered them to be men- 
 tioned in his presence. And hence his care never to 
 say any thing about them, either directly or'indirectly 
 
 * These are his oAvn expressions. As to the free govern- 
 ment of the United States, he acknowledged that he was sat- 
 isfied with it ; but added, at the same time, that to attempt to in- 
 troduce such a system into France, with the ideas and manners 
 that prevailed there, would be to introduce anarchy and confu- 
 sion. " In France," he said, " they do not understand at all 
 what liberty is ; every one desires liberty for himself and those 
 of his own opinion ; but restraint and oppression for others, 
 and especially for the clergy." ^ 
 
 f The observance of this principle is a striking fact in the 
 history of the church : See, among other examples, 1st. What 
 is related in the History of the Gallican church, (Vol. I. Book 2, 
 year 383,) concerning the conduct of the Bishops of Spain 
 and Gaul, and of St. Martin himself towards the tyrant Maxi- 
 
240 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 in his public discourses, if we except two instances 
 only, when he thought that circumstances demanded 
 a departure from this principle. He preached only 
 the gospel and charity ; he was a man of heaven, 
 who revealed its mysteries, who explained its laws; 
 but never did he stoop to become a man of the earth, 
 never did he degrade the Holy Word so far as to in- 
 troduce it, like the word of man, into the vortex of 
 varying opinions which divide the children of men. 
 
 What the Archbishop of Bordeaux practised so 
 well himself, he endeavoured on all occasions to incul- 
 cate upon his priests. " We are permitted to regret," 
 he said to them ; *' we are obliged to give an account 
 of our affections only to God, and the heart is a sanc- 
 tuary into which men have no right to look ; but we 
 are responsible for our actions and our words. Let us 
 
 mus. 2nd. The letter of St. Ambrose (Ep. LVII. ad Eugen.) 
 to the tyrant Eugenius, who had caused Valentinian the 
 younger to be assassinated, that he might reign in his stead, 
 and especially the last paragraph of that letter. 3d. The 
 letter of St. Gregory the Great to Phocas, (Lib. XIII. In- 
 dict, vi. ; Ep. XXXI. ad Phocam.) who had massacred the 
 Emperor Maurice with his wife and children, and what Fleury 
 relates of the conduct of that holy Pope on this occasion ; 
 Hist. Eccl. Vol. III. Book 36, n. 45. 4th. The Proch Verhaux 
 of the assemblies of the French clergy. Vol. III. p. 686, et. seq. 
 — Ibid. Pieces Justijlcatives, pp. 90, 91, where is found the 
 remarkable reply of Gregory XIII., which has ever since 
 served as a rule of conduct to the Holy See. 
 
DIMINUTION OF HIS INCOME. 241 
 
 be watchful, therefore, that we neither do nor say any 
 thing which may be laid hold upon. The clergy," he 
 went on to say, "should keep themselves free from 
 all political party spirit, that they may be in a condi- 
 tion to fulfil their mission of peace and charity, under 
 any form of government whatever. We ought not to 
 give occasion to any existing party to regard us as 
 enemies, since we are called to save men of all 
 parties." 
 
 Thus did charity, united with prudence, prompt the 
 counsels, as well as regulate the conduct of Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus ; and, thanks to the wise suggestions 
 of these combined virtues, he was able, after 1830, 
 the same as before, to devote himself in peace to his 
 love of good works. He engaged in new ones, and 
 neglected none already undertaken. Among those 
 of the latter class, the revolution of July had af- 
 fected but one ; it diminished his charities, by de- 
 priving him of twenty-two thousand livres annually, 
 in consequence of the retrenchment made by the 
 Chambers in the emoluments of the clergy. Nev- 
 ertheless, in order that the poor might suffer as 
 little as possible from this diminution of income, he 
 made the most rigid retrenchments in the expenses 
 of his household ; he retained only a single servant to 
 attend upon him in church, on his journeys, and in 
 his palace ; reduced the expenses of his table, al- 
 ready very frugal, as much as decency would permit ; 
 and denied himself things which seemed the most in- 
 21 
 
242 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 dispensable; even going on foot over muddy roads, 
 and defying rains and snows, choosing to endure 
 privations himself, rather than that the poor should 
 suffer. 
 
 Although thus straitened, his table was still open 
 every day to all his clergy. " Had I but a morsel 
 of bread," he said to them, " I would invite you to 
 share it with me." He even continued, as before, 
 to invite to it the laity of his diocese and strangers, 
 and it was still as much thronged as ever. Indeed, 
 in order to secure more guests, he fixed his dinner 
 hour at twelve o'clock, such an arrangement being 
 recommended by two considerations equally worthy 
 of his kind disposition. In the first place, it was a 
 more convenient hour for his priests, who were obliged 
 to return in the evening to their parishes, sometimes 
 a great distance ; and, secondly, it enabled him, not- 
 withstanding the diminution of his resources, to receive 
 daily at his table, the rich and the honorable of the 
 world, by offering them his simple and frugal repast 
 as a breakfast; and, in this way, to maintain with all 
 the subjects of his diocese the most intimate and 
 friendly relations. It was a delight to him to see 
 the great and the wealthy leave their own sumptuous 
 tables, to come and sit down at his, and he thanked 
 them for it with the utmost grace and delicacy. He 
 liked, especially, to welcome to his table those whom 
 the revolution of July had cast down from a high rank, 
 and driven from the very steps of the throne. *' When 
 
.^•; 
 
 HIS INTEREST IN THE ROYAL COLLEGE. 243 
 
 you were at the height of power," he said to them, 
 " I saw you but rarely, and in a ceremonious way, 
 because I might have appeared to be seeking favor; 
 now, we see each other often and intimately, be- 
 cause you are in trouble, and the heart alone, 
 free from any interested views, regulates our inter- 
 course." - 
 
 The Government, which could not be ignorant of 
 his conduct, was not offended by it ; and it has since 
 been known that the King intended, at that very 
 time, to solicit for him from the Holy See a cardi- 
 nal's hat. But the occupation of Ancona by the 
 French troops having, about this time, seriously of- 
 fended the Sovereign Pontiff, and given rise to pro- 
 tracted negotiations, all thought of asking favors was 
 necessarily renounced, and the nomination of Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus was indefinitely postponed. 
 
 In the mean time, the Archbishop of Bordeaux 
 was devoting himself to pursuits far more dear to his 
 heart than all earthly grandeur and dignities. Deeply 
 interested in the future destinies of France, and con- 
 sidering them as essentially dependent on the edu- 
 cation given in the colleges to that portion of the 
 youth, which would one day be called by its social 
 position to the various offices of the state, he took 
 measures in concert with the principal of the Royal 
 College, a priest no less commendable for his pru- 
 dence and firmness than for his zeal and learning, to 
 promote the cause of religion and piety in his estab- 
 
244 LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 lisliment. He first sent one of his priests to give 
 the young men serious and argumentative discourses 
 upon religion, its evidences, and doctrines. Some 
 time after, the place of chaplain of the college hav- 
 ing become vacant, he offered it to several of the 
 most learned priests of his diocese, and, on their 
 begging leave to decline, he conferred it upon his 
 own nephew, the Abbe George. This worthy priest 
 devoted himself entirely to this great work, pursued 
 it with ardor and constancy, and neglected no means 
 of insuring success. The Archbishop joined his own 
 efforts to those of his nephew. He not only encour- 
 aged the students by proposing a walk to his country- 
 house as a reward for the most meritorious, who there 
 found games, refreshments, repasts, and, indeed, what- 
 ever could contribute to the enjoyment of a party of 
 pleasure ; but he also went himself to the college to 
 instruct the youth. Every year, he celebrated the 
 festival of its patron saint, and officiated at the first 
 communion ; and on these occasions, he addressed 
 them in the most appropriate discourses, always adapt- 
 ed to the nature of their studies. Now, he showed 
 them, after the manner of St. Basil, the profit a Chris- 
 tian may and ought to derive from reading profane au- 
 thors ; again, preaching on a moral subject, he support- 
 ed his doctrine by the wisest reflections of profane 
 poets and orators, Greek and Latin, upon the point in 
 question. " These are my Holy Fathers," said he, 
 sportively, " when I preach at college." In fact, it 
 
IMPROVEMENT IN THE COLLEGE. 245 
 
 may be said that his discourses were thoroughly im- 
 bued with the authors upon whom the young men 
 were then engaged ; and it was evident that he was 
 still as familiar with them in his later years, as in 
 his early youth. Such labors and efforts, seconded 
 by the zeal of the principal, were not in vain. The 
 Royal College of Bordeaux became a house of 
 edification, a school where religion was i^ot only 
 honored but practised, to such an extent, that, the 
 last time the Archbishop visited it, he administered 
 the holy communion to a hundred and forty students, 
 all full of faith and devotion, their countenances 
 beaming with the delightful expression of the in- 
 ward contentment, with which their souls were 
 overflowing. This scene affected the Archbishop 
 even to tears; and, the evening after this touching 
 ceremony, one of the students having offered him, 
 in an address full of feeling, the general expression 
 of their gratitude, he could reply only by weeping 
 again. " My dear children," he said to them, " my 
 answer flows from my eyes." He then blessed them 
 and retired, declaring that this day was one of the 
 happiest and most consolatory of his episcopal life. 
 
 The interest of Archbishop Cheverus in the right 
 education of youth was so great, that he did not dis- 
 dain to take upon himself even the most humble and 
 laborious duties. Having learned, that, at the normal 
 school for mutual instruction, a Protestant minister 
 21* 
 
246 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 was giving lessons to the pupils, under the title of 
 Professor of Religious Morality, and foreseeing dif- 
 culty, or at least delay, in removing this danger- 
 ous teacher, and putting a Catholic priest in his 
 place, he undertook to go himself to this institution 
 several times a week, to give lessons on religious 
 morality, or rather to teach the catechism, which 
 contains the only true, the only sound morality ; and 
 he performed this humble office with such scrupu- 
 lous punctuality, that, one day, being prevented, by a 
 meeting of the council at the archiepiscopal palace, 
 from going at the precise time, he wrote to the 
 master of the establishment, to inform him that im- 
 portant business obliged him to defer the lesson for 
 a quarter of an hour. 
 
 But other events soon opened a new career to 
 his active benevolence. This was the period when 
 the cholera made such frightful ravages in Paris, and 
 in various other cities of France. The people were 
 everywhere in fear of being visited by this scourge, 
 and were taking every precaution, that the sick might 
 receive the most prompt assistance in case it should 
 arrive. With this view, the authorities of the city 
 of Bordeaux proposed to establish a house of relief 
 in each quarter, where those attacked by the cholera 
 might be received and attended, until they could be 
 tr?»nsferred to the general hospital. A suitable house 
 had already been found in all the different quarters, 
 except the third, in which the archiepiscopal palace is 
 
ins BENEVOLENCE DURING THE CHOLERA. 247 
 
 situated, and in which the city authorities had in vain 
 sought a situation. The Archbishop, learning this, 
 immediately hastened to offer his palace, declaring 
 that he should esteem himself hajppy and honored to 
 have it converted into a hospital for his sick breth- 
 ren, and also to serve them himself as an attendant, 
 in case of need. All the city authorities, deeply af- 
 fected by so generous an offer, which they accepted 
 with gratitude, came in a body to thank the prelate, 
 who had shown himself so truly the pastor and the 
 father of his people. Beds were carried to the archi- 
 episcopal palace, with whatever was necessary to the 
 care of the sick ; and over the gate of entrance were 
 inscribed these words, House of Relief, A glorious 
 inscription, and well worthy to adorn an episcopal 
 palace ; and which, at all times and in all places, 
 before and after the cholera as well as during the 
 continuance of that scourge, at Boston and at Mont- 
 auban as well as at Bordeaux, might have designated 
 the dwelling of Archbishop Cheverus. Thanks to 
 the goodness of Providence, which permitted that 
 malady barely to appear in the city, there was no 
 necessity for resorting to these houses of relief. Very 
 few of the inhabitants were attacked, and they could 
 be immediately attended to at the general hospital. 
 Prevented from receiving them at his own residence, 
 the Archbishop of Bordeaux visited them almost 
 every day, expressed his pity for their sufferings, 
 
248 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and addressed to each words of kindness, interest, and 
 consolation. 
 
 Several having died in consequence of the malady, 
 an absurd report of their having been poisoned cir- 
 culated among the people ; murmurs already began 
 to be heard, and the affrighted magistrates feared 
 that an insurrection would be the consequence. In 
 their solicitude, they applied to the Archbishop, 
 praying him to exert his influence to do away these 
 odious suspicions. " The poor," they said to him, 
 " are accustomed to listen to you ; we need your 
 voice to aid us." He yielded to their request the 
 more readily, as the Sisters of Charity were impli- 
 cated in this calumny. To touch these angels of 
 beneficence was touching the apple of his eye. He 
 immediately took his pen, and wrote a justification of 
 them in a pastoral letter full of power and energy. 
 " The daughters of St. Vincent poison you !" said he. 
 " Ah ! sooner would they themselves suck the poison 
 from your wounds, if that were necessary to save 
 you." The next day, from the pulpit of the church 
 of St. Eulaha, he refuted all these absurd reports, and 
 from that day they ceased, and the people were 
 ashamed of having listened to or repeated them. 
 
 This was not the only time that the civil author- 
 ity called the Archbishop to its assistance, and ex- 
 perienced the salutary effects of his influence. The 
 cholera having raged with violence at the poor-house. 
 
SUPPRESSES SEDITION. 249 
 
 and carried off a great number of its unfortunate in- 
 mates, those who remained mutinied, and committed 
 acts of violence in order to obtain their discharge. 
 The magistrates called upon the Archbishop to inter- 
 pose his mild yet potent authority, as the surest means 
 of re-establishing order. He went to the house, spoke 
 to all the paupers with kindness and power, silenced 
 their murmurs, removed their prejudices, and such 
 was the efficacy of his words, that, from that mo- 
 ment, quietness and peace constantly prevailed in 
 the establishment. " If I had not been able to pacify 
 them," he said, on his return from this visit, " I 
 would have brought them back with me to my palace ; 
 I would have kept them there, and even have taken 
 care of them, if the disease had attacked them." 
 
 Another insurrection, more difficult to quell, threat- 
 ened to break out about the same time among the pris- 
 oners confined in the fortress of Ha. These wretched 
 men had taken it into their heads, that the revolu- 
 tion of July was to be an era of liberty to them, to 
 break their chains, and throw open their prison ; and, 
 impatient that the expected day of deliverance did 
 not arrive, they wished to take the matter into their 
 own hands, and to obtain their freedom by force. 
 The sedition was on the point of proceeding to ex- 
 tremity, when the Archbishop, whom the authorities 
 had informed of it, and requested to interpose, ar- 
 rived at the prison. He addressed them in words of 
 
250 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 peace, gentleness, and wisdom ; represented to these 
 unhappy men the injury they were about to do them- 
 selves in aggravating their punishment by a new crime ; 
 and, in the name of God, preached to them order, 
 peace, and resignation. The voice of the good pastor 
 was heard, all became submissive, and religion had the 
 glory of bringing under its control these guilty men, 
 who would perhaps only have offered still more resist- 
 ance had force been employed. 
 
 Soon after this critical period, which was an occa- 
 sion of triumph and honor to religion. Archbishop 
 Cheverus was called to endure a very severe loss. 
 The See of Montauban was vacant; and a very 
 strong desire was felt to appoint to that situation his 
 worthy friend and grand-vicar, the Abbe de Trelissac, 
 who had left all at Montauban to follow him, and 
 who was, at Bordeaux, the confidant of all his 
 thoughts, the depositary of his sorrows, and whom 
 he loved like another self. The Abbe refused the 
 appointment in the most decided manner, and the 
 Archbishop for some time indulged the hope of re- 
 taining him. But at length the importunities were 
 so earnest, and the motives for consenting so urgent 
 and unanswerable, that his apprehensions were realized. 
 M. de Trelissac bowed his head to the burden, which, 
 in spite of himself, was imposed upon him, and the 
 separation was decided upon. Still the Archbishop of 
 Bordeaux did not manifest all the regret he felt ; he 
 
CONSECRATES SEVERAL BISHOPS. 251 
 
 dissembled his own grief, that he might endeavour to 
 console his worthy friend, who was himself greatly af- 
 flicted, and who bitterly deplored his promotion ; less 
 because it would remove him from a tranquil and pleas- 
 ant life, and burden him, allhough aged and infirm, with 
 the weighty cares of episcopacy, than because it 
 would sever the dear and intimate ties that bound 
 him to Archbishop Cheverus. On this trying oc- 
 casion the Archbishop of Bordeaux appeared firm, 
 and did not give way to his grief. He felt how 
 much he lost ; he made a great sacrifice ; but he 
 made it for Montauban, for a diocese, the tender 
 recollection of which he ever cherished in the in- 
 most recesses of his heart, and where he knew that 
 blessings followed his name. There was no sacrifice 
 that he would not willingly have made for his dear 
 people of Montauban. 
 
 His affection for the Abbe de Trelissac, as well 
 as his attachment to Montauban, made him wish to 
 officiate himself at his consecration, and to give to 
 this ceremony all possible pomp and majesty. In 
 order to accommodate a greater number of the faith- 
 ful, he caused galleries to be erected along the walls 
 in the interior of the cathedral ; and, that they might 
 have a better opportunity to see the whole, he had a 
 platform raised in the centre of the nave, on which were 
 placed two altars, where the new bishop was to be 
 consecrated, and which was large enough to allow the 
 ceremonies to be exhibited in all their magnificence. 
 
252 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 In short, desirous that nothing should be wanting to 
 the splendor of the festival, he invited all his suf- 
 fragan bishops to attend, and joyfully welcomed to 
 the celebration the bishops elect of Tarbes and Saint- 
 Flour,* who also wished to receive episcopal con- 
 secration from his hands ; so that Bordeaux witnessed 
 a great and magnificent spectacle, such as had not 
 been seen there within the memory of man, — • the 
 consecration of three bishops, the meeting together 
 of seven prelates, to say nothing of the great num- 
 bers of the clergy assembled from all parts of that 
 and the neighbouring dioceses. On reaching the plat- 
 form, where the ceremony was to take place. Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus, struck with the scene that his 
 cathedral then presented, and the immense concourse 
 which filled every part of it, could not restrain his 
 feelings, and gave them utterance in a discourse full 
 of noble and elevated thoughts, in which he declared 
 this to be the happiest day of his episcopal life, and 
 interested all the spectators in the situation of his vir- 
 tuous friend ; " a victim who immolated his affections 
 as well as his regrets to the glory of religion ; and," 
 he added, " if he appears to you this day decorated 
 with the noble insignia of the Bishop's office, con- 
 sider that the more the victim is adorned, the greater 
 is the sacrifice to which he is destined." After this 
 
 * Monseigneur Double, Bishop of Tarbes, and Monsei- 
 gneur Cadalen, Bishop of St. Flour, who died two years 
 after. 
 
JOY OF THE BISHOPS IN HIS COMPANY. 253 
 
 discourse, the ceremony commenced immediately, and 
 was performed with an imposing pomp and majesty, and 
 with a pious solemnity which was most edifying; and 
 was witnessed by the numerous spectators with a si- 
 lence which proved that the spirit of religion and faith 
 predominated over the curiosity which had drawn them 
 thither. The ceremony being concluded, the Arch- 
 bishop assembled at his table not only the seven prel- 
 ates, but also all the principal authorities of the city, 
 and a great many persons of distinction, whom he de- 
 lighted, with his wonted liberality, to bring together as 
 brethren on this great day, notwithstanding their well- 
 known differences of opinion. The festival did not 
 end with the day ; the bishops were so happy in the 
 society of their Metropolitan, he appeared to them so 
 good and amiable, that they wished to remain several 
 days. One of them, especially, Monseigneur de 
 Lostanges, Bishop of Perigueux, could not contain his 
 joy and happiness. Many limes a day he fell on the 
 neck of the Archbishop of Bordeaux, saying, with 
 tears of tenderness, *' Oh, my good father ! what pleas- 
 ure it gives me to be with you ! These are the hap- 
 piest days of my life ; I feel the full force of these 
 words of the Holy Spirit, ' How good and how pleas- 
 ant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity : 
 Ecce quam honum et qudm jucundum habiiare fratres 
 in unuml' " This was the first time that this worthy 
 Bishop had seen Archbishop Cheverus, and he had 
 formed no idea of such kindness and simplicity, such 
 22 
 
254 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 delicate attentions, such amiable cheerfulness, as he 
 displayed; and he was particularly struck by his 
 putting all his guests so perfectly at ease, for it was 
 the wish and endeavour of the Archbishop, that each 
 one should feel as much at home in the palace as 
 in his own house. The happiness enjoyed by this 
 venerable prelate was a real delight to the Arch- 
 bishop ; but, at the same time, gave rise to a reflec- 
 tion worthy of his excellent heart. *' If this dear 
 Bishop," said he, after his departure, "has been so 
 feelingly alive to the happiness of finding a heart which 
 loves him tenderly, he cannot have been accustomed 
 to that enjoyment. Would that I could sooner have 
 conferred it upon him!" 
 
 When all the bishops had returned to their re- 
 spective dioceses, the Archbishop himself set off for 
 Montauban, in order to revisit his former people, and 
 install over them, as their Bishop, his friend Mon- 
 seigneur de Trtlissac. Seven years had elapsed since 
 he left them, and he found that this long interval 
 of time, far from having cooled their former friend- 
 ship, had only quickened their affection. At the first 
 small town in the diocese of Montauban, which he 
 encountered on his route, he was met with transports of 
 unutterable joy, and cries a thousand times repeated of 
 " Long live Archbishop Cheverus ! " The good people 
 conducted him to the church, although he was only 
 passing through the place, and invited him to ad- 
 dress them. He spoke to them with all the eloquence 
 
HIS RECEPTION AT MONTAUBAN. 255 
 
 of a feeling and grateful heart, and preached to them 
 charity and a unity of spirit, earnestly reproving cer- 
 tain divisions that existed in the parish. At Moissac, 
 the second city of the diocese, the expressions of 
 affection were still stronger. Wherever he appeared, 
 tears of joy were on every cheek, hands were clasped 
 and raised towards heaven, and the close crowd 
 which surrounded him followed him through the 
 streets, amid reiterated exclamations of joy and tri- 
 umph. The Archbishop could not command himself, 
 and tears betrayed his emotion. ''^ The good people," 
 said he, " still remember their poor Bishop, after seven 
 years' absence, and love him as when he was in the 
 midst of them." But the most glorious triumph of 
 all awaited him at Montauban. He had chosen 
 to arrive there at night, to prevent all public demon- 
 stration of rejoicing ; but, in spite of the darkness, 
 and the rain that was falling, the people, eager to be- 
 hold again their father and fi'iend, were watching for 
 him in the streets, and at the gates of the episcopal 
 palace. As soon as the Archbishop appeared, there 
 was a universal burst of joy and delight; they sur- 
 rounded him as he was descending from his carriage, 
 so that he could not escape ; they kissed his hands 
 and his garments, crying, " Long live our good father! 
 Long live Archbishop Cheverus ! Oh, how good he 
 is ! he loves us still ; he is no prouder than when he 
 was among us 1 " The next morning, there was again 
 an immense crowd from the gates of the episcopal pal- 
 
256 LIFE OF CARDINAL CllEVERUS. 
 
 ace to the cathedral, and the Archbishop could reach 
 the latter only by being borne along, as it were, by 
 the people. The faithful, eager to kiss his hands, 
 strove to seize them on the right and on the left ; those 
 who could not get hold of them kissed his surplice or 
 his mantle, and some were seen kneeling in the mud, 
 kissing the hem of his cassock. The sio^ht of him 
 they loved gave to the countenances of all an inde- 
 scribable expression of happiness. Archbishop Chev- 
 erus was almost beside himself. ^' Oh 1 what harm 
 they are doing me," said he, " through their love for 
 me ! They make too deep an impression on my 
 heart." So that when he was obliged to preach at 
 vespers, he could speak of nothing but love and charity. 
 He took for his text these words of the Evangelist : 
 " Mandatum novum do vobis, ut diligatis invicem sicut 
 dilexi vos:* A new commandment I give unto you, 
 that ye love one another as 1 have loved you." And 
 he immediately added these remarkable words : " If I 
 did not fear to blaspheme, I would change the ex- 
 pressions of my text, and would say to you. Love 
 one another as you have the goodness to love me." 
 It may be inferred from this, that Monseigneur de 
 Trelissac was gladly welcomed, presented as he was to 
 the people by one so dear. The title of friend of 
 Archbishop Cheverus so touching to the hearts of the 
 people of Montauban, and his having been consecrated 
 and installed by him, deepened the sentiments of af- 
 * John xiii. 34. 
 
HIS FIRST ATTACK OF APOPLEXY. 257 
 
 fection and respect, which his own merits, so long 
 familiar to the people of this diocese, had inspired ; 
 and the two prelates were regarded with equal love. 
 In the evening, the Archbishop received at the epis- 
 copal palace visits from many persons of distinction, 
 and each one was at a loss how to express the ad- 
 miration, amounting to enthusiasm, with which the 
 spectacle of the day had inspired him. " Monsei- 
 gneur," said one, "I have a favor to ask of you; 
 permit me to embrace you, that I may boast of it all 
 the rest of my life." " I have written to the minister," 
 said another, *' that, if the King should come to Mont- 
 auban in person, he cannot be more cordially wel- 
 comed, nor treated with more attention than your Grace 
 has been." " Monseigneur," said a third, ''you are 
 truly king in this city ; all hearts, all wills are subject 
 to you ; a word from your lips has more power over 
 the people, than all the bayonets in the world." 
 
 After remaining some days. Archbishop Cheverus 
 tore himself away from these affectionate friends, and, 
 urged by the voice of duty, returned to his metropolis, 
 where he was soon after called to experience a severe 
 and unlooked-for affliction. Only one of the two 
 grand-vicars who had accompanied him to Bordeaux 
 now remained with him, M. Carle, a venerable old 
 man, whose simplicity was equalled only by his good- 
 ness ; and, on Easter day, 1834, this worthy eccle- 
 siastic was suddenly struck dead in the church, just 
 as he was leaving the altar. The news of his death 
 22* 
 
258 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 being immediately and suddenly communicated to the 
 Archbishop, filled him with dismay ; it seemed to him 
 that all were abandoning him; and, either in conse- 
 quence of natural predisposition, or from the effect pro- 
 duced on him by this event, he had, a few days after, 
 an attack of apoplexy, which rendered him insensible 
 for several minutes. When he came to himself, he 
 wished to conceal what had happened, that he might 
 not alarm his numerous friends ; but his fall had so dis- 
 figured his face, as to betray this sorrowful occurrence 
 to all. It created universal alarm ; people flocked to 
 the archiepiscopal palace from all quarters ; and every- 
 body inquired about him with a solicitude which plainly 
 indicated the love they bore him. But he was nei- 
 ther alarmed nor dejected ; he regarded this event as 
 an annunciation of his approaching death, a warning 
 sent by Heaven to hold himself in readiness ; and, 
 from that moment, even more than before, he looked 
 upon all the things of this world as a fleeting shadow, 
 a vapor which vanishes away. He spoke often of his 
 old age, and considered himself as already on the 
 borders of the tomb. This impression made him de- 
 sirous to appoint as successor to M. Carle, in the 
 office of grand-vicar, a devoted friend, pious, pru- 
 dent, and wise ; who should attend him everywhere, 
 in his pastoral visits, as well as in his own house ; 
 and, in case of accident, be able to assist him with 
 affection and fortitude, receive his last sigh, and exe- 
 cute his last will without delay. This precious friend 
 
APPOINTS HIS NEPHEW GRAND-VICAR. 259 
 
 was at hand, in the person of his own nephew ; but he 
 was afraid of appearing to yield to the voice of con- 
 sanguinity. The expression of the general wish upon 
 this subject, clearly manifested by the solicitations of 
 many honorable members of the clerical body, reas- 
 sured him, and he offered the vacant place to the Abbe 
 George, who, equally surprised and concerned, ven- 
 tured, for the first time, to refuse what his uncle wished. 
 The Archbishop, far from being offended, rejoiced to 
 find in his nephew such sentiments and such principles 
 of conduct; and declared to him that he would 
 leave him at perfect liberty ; but that he expected 
 him, as a wise man, to ask advice, and follow 
 with docility that which should be given him. 
 M. George did consult his friends, and all were 
 unanimous in their opinion ; he was obliged to yield 
 to the wishes of the Archbishop. From that mo- 
 ment, this worthy ecclesiastic remained, as we may 
 say, inseparably at his uncle's side, full of sad anxi- 
 ety, because he tenderly loved him, and in constant 
 apprehension of another attack still more terrible than 
 the first. The evil so much dreaded came but too 
 soon. Six weeks after, he had a second attack, in 
 which he fell, fainting and insensible, upon the floor ; 
 but, happily, it was not attended with serious con- 
 sequences. The next day he was able to resume 
 all his duties ; yet it increased the alarm of his 
 friends, who apprehended from day to day that they 
 should lose him. Their only consolation was in see- 
 
260 ^IFfi OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ing him as before his fall, full of vigor, resolution, 
 and energy ; he not only performed the necessary 
 duties of his office, but also undertook whatever he 
 was desired to do, and embraced every opportunity 
 of doing good. The many pious labors which remain 
 for us to describe may give some idea of this. 
 
 One day a rich Creole having come to beg him to 
 baptize his new-born infant, his entreaties and tears 
 triumphed over the unwillingness of the Archbishop, 
 who feared to hurt the feelings of many, by perform- 
 ing for some what he could not do for all. While 
 he was administering the sacrament, he perceived in 
 the church a poor woman, accompanied by her poor 
 relations, holding in her arms a young infant, and 
 waiting humbly at a distance, until she should be 
 permitted to present her child. The Archbishop, 
 thinking then what painful feelings the sight of all the 
 honors bestowed upon the rich infant must awaken in 
 these people, while no attention seemed to be paid to 
 their own child, because it was poor, turned towards 
 them and invited them to approach. " Come, my 
 friends," said he to them, " I will also perform this 
 baptism myself, and honor your ill clad child, as 
 well as this infant loaded with rich ornaments." 
 After the conclusion of the ceremony, the Archbishop, 
 taking occasion from this incident to give some useful 
 lessons to the rich and the poor who were present, 
 said to them : " These two children are equally great 
 in the sight of God, equally honorable in his view. 
 
TOUCHING ACCOUNT OF TWO BAPTISMS. 261 
 
 equally dear to his love ; both are destined to the same 
 glory in eternity ; but they must reach it by different 
 paths ; the rich one by charity, consoling and comfort- 
 ing his brethren who are in want; the poor, by an 
 humble and laborious life. If heaven be hereafter 
 open to the sufferer, it will be because he has led a 
 life of patient submission ; if to him who gives relief, 
 because he has shown himself compassionate. To be 
 generous will be the virtue of the one ; to be grateful, 
 that of the other. And," he added, " both ought to 
 begin this day to fulfil their destiny. The poor child 
 cannot ask kindness, and his heart is as yet unconscious 
 of gratitude ; I will be his interpreter, and take upon 
 myself the debt of gratitude for all the good you shall 
 do him. The rich child cannot give, and his heart as 
 yet is unacquainted with generosity ; but you," said he, 
 turning towards the numerous and brilliant assembly 
 around him, '* you are his representatives, and ought 
 to assume the duty of being charitable and generous 
 for him. Such charity is the greatest proof of ten- 
 derness you can give him ; it will sanctify his en- 
 trance into hfe, and call down upon its whole course 
 the blessing of God, who does not in vain call himself 
 the Father of the poor." And the Archbishop having 
 proposed a collection for the poor child, there was 
 not a single individual in that numerous family cir- 
 cle, who did not feel it his duty to contribute. All 
 were deeply moved by the goodness of the Arch- 
 bishop ; the fate of the two children interested in 
 
262 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 the good work appealed to their hearts. The col- 
 lection was bountiful, and the Archbishop was enabled 
 to confer much happiness ; he felt great pleasure in 
 sending the money to the indigent family, who shed 
 tears of emotion and gratitude, and declared that 
 they should never cease to call down blessings on 
 the good Archbishop, and the wealthy and generous 
 family. 
 
 To succour misfortune afforded the sweetest enjoy- 
 ment to the heart of the Archbishop of Bordeaux. 
 How many valuable establishments were founded at 
 his benevolent suggestion, and sustained by his coun- 
 selsj his alms, his protection, and his instructions 1 
 One of the first was that for the young Savoyards. 
 For a long time, every feeling heart had pitied the 
 miserable condition of these poor children, who came 
 down from the mountains of Auvergne or Savoy, 
 and were wandering about the cities of France, ill 
 clad, ill fed, and harshly treated by inhuman masters ; 
 and who yet appeared so interesting, so artless, with 
 their ever-smiling faces. To Christians, their want of 
 all religious instruction, and the dangers of every kind 
 to which these friendless children were exposed, was 
 a subject of especial lamentation. The names of the 
 Abbe Fenelon and the Abbe Legris-Duval, who col- 
 lected these innocent creatures together in Paris, and 
 furnished them at the same time with the aids of 
 charity and the blessings of religion, will be for ever 
 remembered ; but Bordeaux had no estabhshment like 
 
ESTABLISHMENT FOR YOUNG SAVOYARDS. 263 
 
 that founded in Paris. It was commenced in the 
 former city, during the last years of the episcopate 
 of Archbishop d'Aviau, of blessed memory, and grew 
 and attained its perfection under Archbishop Chev- 
 erus. An institution was established for the recep- 
 tion of these poor children, and a chapel founded to 
 give them the benefit of religious instruction. Here, 
 a considerate benevolence supplied their wants ; they 
 were instructed in religion, and taught to pray, and 
 every Sunday and holyday they were all present 
 together at the celebration of mass. The Arch- 
 bishop himself went to see and to instruct them, 
 and to celebrate their festivals; he reminded them 
 how much gratitude they owed to Religion, who 
 had been a tender mother to them ; and he especially 
 loved to repeat to them, that, poor as they were, 
 they might become, in heaven, greater, richer, and 
 happier, than all the rich men of this world ; thus 
 endeavouring to soften the severity of their earthly 
 lot by the hopes of immortality.* 
 
 If he was thus interested for children not belonir- 
 ing to his diocese, his feelings toward the poor chil- 
 
 * " TVhy^'' said the Archbishop one day to the young Savoy- 
 ards, at a charitable meeting, ^^why was Saint Francis de Sales 
 chosen for your patron saint ? It was because, being himself a 
 Savoyard, he had a fellow-countryman'' s love for you ; but, ac- 
 cording to this test, I am also a Savoyard, for 1 love you very 
 much ; yes, I am a Savoyard ; ^^ and as the surprised children 
 seemed to doubt the seriousness of his words, the Archbishop 
 
264 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 dren of Bordeaux may be imagined. Until the year 
 1834, the greater part of them were left without 
 any care, as well as without instruction ; and the few 
 parents who had virtue enough not to abandon them, 
 prevented by the care of them from devoting them- 
 selves to the labor which was their only means of 
 support, soon became poor. In the course of this 
 year, asylums for these poor children were opened 
 in the different parishes of the city. Here, all be- 
 tween the ages of eighteen months and seven 
 years were received every morning, watched over, 
 instructed, and taken care of during the day with a 
 mother's tenderness ; and while the parents, freed 
 from all solicitude, attended quietly to their business, 
 their happy children were taught, before they could 
 speak plain, the knowledge of religion, the love of 
 virtue, and respect for the clergy. By exercises in 
 common, which emulation converted into parties of 
 pleasure, they were taught the catechism, morning 
 and evening prayers, the singing of the canticles, 
 with the first rudiments of reading, and various little 
 manual labors. The time for recreation, for repasts, 
 
 added, " .^rtc^ these gentlemen are also Savoyards, for they love 
 
 you as I do, and 1 love you as they do, and these ladies 
 
 who give you bread, clothes, are Savoyards also, for the same 
 reason^ And these pious ladies, young Christians, and poor 
 children, had all, like their bishop and father, a smile on 
 their lips, and tears in their eyes. — Extract from an Essay on 
 the Young Savoyards, p. 95. 
 
ASYLUMS FOR POOR CHILDREN. 265 
 
 for conversation, the place which each was to occupy, 
 and the manner of performing every thing, were all 
 regulated by a gentle and wise authority ; so that, from 
 the most tender age, these children contracted habits of 
 order, obedience, neatness, and good manners. Here, 
 every thing spoke to them of religion ; the images of 
 the crucifix, of the Holy Virgin, and of the saints, 
 placed in the asylums ; the pious sentences engraved 
 upon the walls ; the teachings and example of their 
 mistresses ; the visits of the clergy, who loved to en- 
 courage these valuable institutions by their presence ; 
 and, above all, the visit of the head pastor. It was 
 the delight of Archbishop Cheverus to be in the 
 midst of these children, to interrogate them about re- 
 ligion, to witness their eagerness to get the foremost 
 place in order to reply to his questions, to hear their 
 infantile voices chanting the praises of God, the beau- 
 ties of religion, and our divine mysteries. They 
 crowded around him as around a father ; and, like 
 Jesus Christ, he embraced, caressed, and blessed 
 them. At such times, a gracious smile played round 
 his lips, and his heart experienced sweet and delicious 
 emotions. One of the happiest days of his life was 
 the 6th of May, 1835, when a deputation from these 
 children came to deliver to him, as the common father 
 of the little family, the symbolical keys of each of 
 the asylums. Each asylum had its deputies, and each 
 parish its decorated banner, on one side of which 
 were the monograms of Mary and Saint Philomena; 
 23 
 
LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and on the other the name of the patron of the 
 parish inscribed around a cross. They went thus 
 in procession to the chapel of the archiepiscopal 
 palace ; here they met the Society of Rich Children, 
 the Supporters of Poor Children, an interesting asso- 
 ciation, which is divided into two branches ; one 
 of which, consisting of a thousand children, furnished, 
 by contributing thirty francs each, the sum necessary 
 to defray the expense of the first establishment of 
 the asylums for poor children ; and the other, unlim- 
 ited as to numbers, with an amiable emulation, under- 
 take to collect, at the houses of their relatives and 
 friends, at evening parties and assemblies, the great- 
 est possible amount of alms. After a discourse pro- 
 nounced by the director of these valuable institutions,* 
 a certain number of these children, each holding by 
 the hand a child from one of the asylums, advanced 
 in order, two and two, to the throne of the Arch- 
 bishop, and delivered to him, on the one part, the 
 keys of the asylums ; on the other, a heart of silver 
 gih, containing the names of the thousand associates. 
 It was a touching spectacle to see children, the flower 
 aidvthe hope of the city, already accustoming them* 
 selves to the exercise of charity, extending a helping 
 hand to the unfortunate, and becoming the protectors 
 and supporters of other children of their own age. 
 The Archbishop was moved and delighted beyond 
 
 * The Abb6 Dupuch. 
 
THE SISTERS OF THE PRESENTATION. 267 
 
 expression, at this scene ; and, after the benediction 
 of the holy sacrament, during which all these young^ 
 children chanted prayers to the Holy Virgin, whom 
 they so justly called their mother, ^'Monstra te esse 
 matrerrij^^ he invited them to walk in the garden of 
 the palace, enjoying the pleasure of seeing them, as 
 a father rejoices in the bosom of his family. From 
 this day, the asylums increased with great rapidity ; 
 eighteen were soon established in various parts of 
 the city, and fifteen hundred children, rescued from 
 misery, were received into them and brought up in 
 the arms of religion. 
 
 In proportion as these establishments multiplied, 
 the necessity was felt, and at the same time the dif- 
 ficulty, of forming pious instructresses, capable of di- 
 recting them. To provide for this, Archbishop Chev- 
 erus received into his diocese the Sisters of the Pre- 
 sentation, an order precious to the church, founded 
 thirty years before at the town of Saint- Andeol, by the 
 Abbe Vernet, Superior of the Seminary of Viviers, with 
 the view not only of their instructing youth themselves, 
 but also of educating instructresses, who should be qual- 
 ified to teach and direct them. These pious and holy 
 women did not confine their efforts to the accomplish- 
 ment of the design for which they were called ; they 
 went much farther. After having founded a normal 
 school, where they educated teachers not only for the 
 asylums, but also for the Christian schools in the va- 
 rious parishes of the diocese, they took upon them- 
 
268 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 selves to visit the asylums regularly, to have an eye 
 upon all that was going on in them, to keep watch 
 even over the persons employed there, and assemble 
 them together at various times, in order to give them 
 judicious counsel, or deliberate upon the means of 
 sustaining and ameliorating these establishments more 
 and more. An important service, the result of which 
 was a uniformity in conducting and governing all the 
 asylums, which was but the prelude to other advanta- 
 ges. After this primary education, which terminated at 
 the age of seven years, the boys found a new asylum 
 in the venerable Abbe de la Salle's Schools of Broth- 
 ers ; and the girls, with the Sisters of Charity, or other 
 virtuous teachers. Two parishes only remained desti- 
 tute of these elementary schools ; the Sisters of the 
 Presentation furnished them in these, and took per- 
 sonal charge of them. All these provisions, however, 
 were inadequate to the existing wants of this kind. 
 There were neglected children, without father or 
 mother, without any refuge or help. The Sisters re- 
 ceived a certain number of them, and undertook to 
 bring them up at their own expense ; and, to provide 
 for the remainder, two institutions were founded, one 
 for poor orphan boys, the other for poor orphan girls. 
 The first was sustained by the Society of Rich ChiU 
 , dren, the Supporters of Poor Children ; the second, 
 by an association of young ladies, called by the ami- 
 able appellation of Youthful Stewards of Providence, 
 Thus was every thing done for childhood up to that 
 
CHRISTIAN WORKSHOPS ARE OPENED TO YOUTH. 269 
 
 age, when, entering upon another period of Ufe, the 
 most perilous to pass through, it engages in some 
 trade or calHng. Whether from the strength of the 
 passions, or in consequence of living in workshops 
 where they saw none but evil examples, and heard 
 only bad language, this period had hitherto been, as 
 it were, the fatal moment, in which the benefits of 
 their early education were lost. But a remedy was 
 found for this evil, as for every other. The same 
 Sisters opened a workshop for the young girls, where 
 they taught them, or had them taught, a trade suit- 
 able to their sex and condition. Here they had 
 them under their own inspection every week-day ; 
 and, on Sundays and holydays, they assembled them 
 with the children of the first communion and other 
 persons, and indulged them in harmless recreations, 
 which they interspersed with prayers and religious 
 instructions ; and, in this way, prevented them from 
 frequenting dances and meetings dangerous to inno- 
 cence. The young men also found, at the same time, 
 Christian workshops opened for them, where they 
 might learn a trade without endangering their virtue. 
 Forty master-workmen, inspired by that Providence 
 in whose hands are the hearts of all men, formed 
 the design of associating together, and pledging them- 
 selves to lead a Christian life, to insist on the ob- 
 servance of religion in their shops, and to admit nono 
 but workmen who were willing to practise it. Arch- 
 bishop Cheverus, rejoicing to hear of it, after ob- 
 23* 
 
270 LIFE OF CARDINAL (mEVERUS. 
 
 taining for this design the approbation of the prefect 
 of the department, went to preside himself at the 
 formation of this valuable institution, and to install its 
 principal officers. They also, like the Sisters, under- 
 took to watch over the young men during the week, 
 and on Sundays to assemble them in a spacious place 
 which w-as granted to them, where they might en- 
 gage in all the sports proper for the recreation of 
 youth ; so that, from this combination of pious works, 
 it may be truly said, that, from the cradle to mature 
 age, religion led the poor child by the hand, spread 
 over him her shield, and trained him for time and 
 eternity. 
 
 It may be easily imagined that so many good 
 works, inspired, sustained, or encouraged by the Arch- 
 bishop, must render him dear to the whole people, 
 and call down blessings on his name. As he was 
 one day walking in the street, a thoughtless young 
 fellow, doubtless a stranger in Bordeaux, having ut- 
 tered in an undertone, from the interior of a ware- 
 house, that vulgar cry by wdiich the irreligious popu- 
 lace sometimes insult the ecclesiastical habit, was heard 
 by a few people. Their indignation was immediately 
 aroused, and spread from one to another; a crowd 
 soon collected, and the young man was obliged to 
 conceal himself in order to escape public vengeance. 
 The same evening, the master of the house, with 
 shame and confusion, came to apologize to the Arch- 
 bishop, and inform him that the culprit was in prison. 
 
RESPECT IN WHICH HE WAS HELD BY THE JEWS. 271 
 
 The Archbishop, who had hardly noticed the offence, 
 desired that he might be set at liberty. " Pray, Mon- 
 seigneur," immediately replied the man, with much 
 candor, " if not on your own account, have the goodness 
 to let him remain there for my sake ; because, other- 
 wise, my business would be ruined, my warehouse 
 forsaken, so great would be the public indignation. 
 No one would have any further connexion with a 
 house where such an offence could be committed 
 without being severely and publicly punished." 
 
 It is very remarkable that the Jews appeared no 
 less indignant on this occasion than the Catholics ; 
 the offence had been committed in the part of the 
 city which they inhabited,* and they wished to be 
 the first to avenge it. They all felt, indeed, a pro- 
 found respect for Archbishop Cheverus. When he 
 passed through their quarter, all saluted him with an 
 air of veneration, and those who were seated man- 
 ifested their respect by rising. On his arrival at 
 Bordeaux, their Grand Rabbi came in person to com- 
 pliment him in the most pompous terms, comparing 
 himself to the Queen of Sheba, who had come to ad- 
 mire the wisdom of Solomon ; and, from that time, he 
 had continued to keep up an intercourse with him. 
 He came to confide his troubles and his griefs to the 
 heart of the Archbishop. '' I come," he said to him 
 one day, when the death of a beloved daughter had 
 plunged him in profound grief, " I come to seek con- 
 
 *Near Bouhaut Street. 
 
212 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 solation from the representative of Jesus Christ, who 
 wept at the grave of Lazarus." Strange language 
 in the mouth of a Rabbi ; but it proves the more 
 strongly the deep veneration in which the Archbishop 
 was held by this unbelieving people. 
 
 It was not only at Bordeaux that the virtues of 
 Archbishop Cheverus excited general admiration; 
 they were everywhere spoken of, and the govern- 
 ment had serious thoughts of elevating him to the 
 cardinalship. M. Charles Dupin had already, in his 
 discourse on the Sth of June, 1835, sounded the 
 disposition of the Chamber on the subject. ^' Let 
 the government," he said, " nominate the illustrious 
 Cheverus as Cardinal. Such a choice would at the 
 same time do honor to France and to Christendom." 
 These words were received on every side with unan- 
 imous expressions of approbation. The Archbishop, 
 without having received any official or direct com- 
 munication on the subject, had been informed that 
 the King was fully resolved to ask for him a Car- 
 dinal's hat. The intelligence alarmed him, like the 
 annunciation of some calamity, and he left no means 
 untried to prevent his own promotion. " You have 
 often protested to me," he wrote to a high and pow- 
 erful personage in Paris, " that you were one of my 
 best friends; give me a proof of it on this occasion, 
 by exerting all your influence to prevent the execu- 
 tion of a project which distresses me. I am already 
 elevated too high ; I pray that I may be suffered to 
 
LETTER FROM THE KING TO THE POPE. 273 
 
 die as 1 now am.'' He did not stop here. The 
 Marquis de Latour-Maubourg, ambassador from France 
 to Rome, having had occasion to write to him sev- 
 eral times on this subject, the Archbishop, in his 
 rephes, endeavoured to urge all the reasons which 
 seemed to him calculated to hinder his promotion. 
 '' After having been twenty-five years a bishop, and 
 forty-five a priest," he said to him, " retirement 
 would become me better than new dignities ; my 
 aged shoulders grow weak, and the head they sup- 
 port grows dull. Besides, I have no personal re- 
 sources to meet the expenses which the cardinal- 
 ship must necessarily involve. This is one among 
 many reasons, why choice should be made of a prel- 
 ate who to higher merit than mine, which it will be 
 very easy to find, may unite pecuniary means. En- 
 deavour, then, to save me from this burden." 
 
 But such great modesty only seemed to entitle 
 him the more to this high dignity. The King wrote 
 to the Pope, and, relying on the sentiments of affec- 
 tion which his Holiness had been pleased to manifest 
 towards him, and on the lively interest he had always 
 shown in the welfare and dignity of the churches 
 of France, grounded his request, especially, in behalf 
 of Archbishop Cheverus, upon the virtues, which 
 for a long time had marlced him out for the venera- 
 tion of the faithful; upon the exalted qualities of 
 which he had given an illustrious example in the 
 midst of the churches of France^ after having edi- 
 
274 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 jied a part of the new world; upon the wisdom and 
 the talents with which he exercised the holy ministry, 
 and his ardent and enlightened zeal for religion. 
 The Sovereign Pontiff did not reply to this letter for 
 some time, because he wished that the government 
 should pledge itself to give the new Cardinal a sal- 
 ary proportioned to his dignity ; but the appointment 
 was determined upon in his own mind, from the first 
 moment the proposition was made ; for, seeing soon 
 after a vicar-general from Bordeaux, he announced 
 to him, that the Archbishop was to be proclaimed 
 Cardinal at the approaching consistory. "And," he 
 added, with that grace which characterized him, "if 
 I raise him to this dignity, it is not merely because 
 the government has asked it of me ; independently 
 of this circumstance, I take particular pleasure in 
 making this appointment, on account of the virtues of 
 the Archbishop, and the zeal he has displayed in the 
 dioceses of Boston, Montauban, and Bordeaux : Inde^ 
 pendemente a questa circostanza, molto mi place il 
 nominarlo, a ragione delle sue virtu, del suo zelo in 
 Bostone, Montauban, e Bordeaux." At length, on 
 the 21st of December, 1835, the emoluments de- 
 manded having been promised, the Pope replied to 
 the King with his own hand, that, being, like his 
 Majesty, convinced that the promotion of so worthy 
 a person as the Archbishop of Bordeaux to the Ro- 
 man purple, would tend to the honor of the Sacred 
 College, and increase the splendor of the French 
 
THE KING'S LETTER OP THANKS TO THE POPE. 275 
 
 clergy, he very willingly acceded to the request, and 
 proposed to make a decree to that effect at the ap- 
 proaching consistory.* The reply of the Pope had 
 hardly reached Paris, before report had spread the 
 news in every direction, and the approaching pro- 
 motion of Archbishop Cheverus to the cardinalship 
 was no longer a secret to any one. The King has- 
 tened to thank the Sovereign Pontiff for his kindness. 
 " I have received with lively gratitude," he wrote 
 him, " the letter which your Holiness lately address- 
 ed to me, informing me with what paternal goodness 
 your Holiness has been pleased to receive my request, 
 that the sacred purple may be conferred on the Arch- 
 bishop of Bordeaux. Your Holiness could not have 
 done any thing more agreeable to me personally, nor 
 any thing calculated, at the same time, to excite in 
 France a more general approbation, a more sincere 
 and heartfelt gratitude, in all classes of society. The 
 Archbishop of Bordeaux is a prelate whose enlight- 
 ened piety, modesty, and exalted virtues, afford an 
 edifying example to the churches of France; and 
 the Sacred College could not admit a more worthy 
 member." All France, indeed, rejoiced at the news, 
 
 * " Essendo eguale alia nostra la persuasione di Vostra 
 Maest^ che la promozione di si degno soggetto al cardinalato 
 risultera di decoro al Sacro Collegio ed accrescera lo splen- 
 dore del Clero di Francia, ben volontieri ne abbiamo accolto 
 la domanda, e ci proponiamo di raandarla ad effetto nel primo 
 concistorio." 
 
276 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and the most illustrious prelates hastened to express 
 to Archbishop Cheverus the pleasure they felt in his 
 promotion. The letter, which the Archbishop of Paris 
 wrote him on this occasion, is too remarkable not to 
 find a place in the life of the Cardinal. " The news 
 of your approaching promotion to the cardinalship," 
 said he, " is now so public, that it is no longer im- 
 proper to speak of it ; and I should be sorry to be 
 one of the last to pay you my compliments, and 
 offer you my congratulations. The Catholics of two 
 worlds will applaud this testimonial of good-will and 
 high esteem given you by the Holy See. All voices 
 will join in approving the choice of our most holy and 
 our common father. The church of Paris unites with 
 the churches of Montauban and Bordeaux in express- 
 ing to you its joy, and the interest it feels in an 
 event which rewards such merit upon earth. I wish, 
 Monseigneur, tl.at you could see my heart, and there 
 read all the interest, devotedness, and veneration I 
 feel' for your person." 
 
 Archbishop Cheverus was much affected by these 
 testimonies of attachment and respect which reached 
 him from all quarters ; but particularly by the letter of 
 the Archbishop of Paris. " This letter," said he, "con- 
 fers upon me more honor than the purple." He has- 
 tened, therefore, to thank the illustrious prelate for it. 
 "I have no doubt," he wrote him, "that this dignity, 
 which I so little deserve, is really intended for me ; 
 but my heart and my judgment tell me it ought to 
 
PROCLAIMED CARDINAL. 277 
 
 be conferred upon your Grace, as a homage paid 
 to an apostle and a martyr ; to him who can say of 
 his brethren, without a violation of truth, ' Ministri 
 
 Christi sunt ? Plus ego ; in plagis supra modum, 
 
 in mortibus frequenter '/ to him, in whom we have 
 admired another Belzunce * in the midst of those smit- 
 ten with the plague, and in whom we cherish a second 
 Vincent de Paul, the father of orphans. Think, then, 
 Monseigneur, how much I am moved, and how great- 
 ly I feel myself honored, by the interest and friendship 
 which such a prelate is pleased to express for me." 
 Meantime the Sovereign Pontiff did not delay the 
 fulfilment of his promise. On the 1st of February, 
 1836, Archbishop Cheverus was proclaimed Cardinal ; 
 the greater distinction, because no one shared this hon- 
 or with him, except the nephew of the late pope, Leo 
 the Twelfth, Cardinal della Genga. When the news 
 reached Bordeaux, it spread universal joy throughout 
 the city and the whole diocese. All came to pay their 
 compliments to the Archbishop. The Chapter in a 
 body offered him their congratulations ; and, inspired 
 by his habitual modesty, the humble prelate replied, 
 that he was distressed and humbled to find himself 
 thought of for so exalted a dignity, whilst so many 
 illustrious prelates, his colleagues, would have graced 
 it so much more by their talents and virtues. He 
 even mentioned the Archbishop of Paris, whose for- 
 titude and resignation, in the midst of so many trials 
 
 * [" Marseilles' good bishop." — Tr.] 
 24 
 
278 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 SO nobly endured, would have heightened the lustre of 
 the Roman purple. "This honor belonged," he said, 
 ** not to me, but to him." Thus, while his elevation 
 filled every one with joy, he alone was troubled by 
 it. His modesty could not bear the thought of being 
 raised so high ; and it was necessary to preach to 
 him the duty of being resigned to greatness, as re- 
 signation to misfortune and obscurity is preached to 
 others. Being summoned to Paris, to receive the 
 titles and insignia of the cardinalship, he repaired 
 thither with grief and anxiety, and the joy of his 
 friends could not dissipate his own sadness. As soon 
 as he arrived, the Nuncio of his Holiness sent him the 
 apostolical letters which made him a member of the Sa- 
 cred College, and which were most honorable to him. 
 " It is our first care," said the Sovereign Pontiff, in 
 these letters, " so to form the Sacred College of Car- 
 dinals, the venerable Senate of the Universal Church 
 and of the Apostolic See, that it may shine through- 
 out the world, by the eminent merit of its members, 
 as brightly as so elevated a dignity and the decrees 
 of the holy canons require. This consideration has 
 induced us to make you a member of this most au- 
 gust assembly. For your well-known piety, your learn- 
 ing, your prudence, your zeal for the Catholic reli- 
 gion, and your many other virtues, united to an uncom- 
 mon devotedness to our person and to the Apostolic 
 See, your experience in business, your fidelity and 
 ability, proved in the administration of the diocese of 
 
COMMENDATORY LETTERS OF THE POPE. 279 
 
 Bordeaux, have placed you so high in our esteem 
 that we cannot doubt your ministry will be blessed 
 to the service and honor of the church of God."* 
 And in another brief, accompanying these apostolical 
 letters, the Pope further said to him : " Looking with 
 paternal regard upon you, who are distinguished by 
 Divine goodness with such eminent gifts of grace, and 
 considering how highly you honor the Roman church 
 of which you are a distinguished member, by the 
 greatness of your merits, we deem it not only suit- 
 able, but incumbent upon us, to grant you certain 
 privileges." f 
 
 * " Inter multiplices gravissimasque injuncti nobis divinittis 
 apostolatus curas, ilia nos prse cseteris sollicitat ut venerabil- 
 ium fratrum nostrorum S. R. E. cardinalium collegium, B. Petri 
 sedis et universsB ecclesi© senatus, amplissimis iis prsefulgeat 
 viris quos tarn sublimis desiderat gradus et sacrorum canonum 
 decreta requirunt. Quamobrera te augustissimo huic ordini 
 adscribere visum est. Tua enim probata pietas, doctrina, 
 prudentia, et catholicse religionis zelus, aliarumque virtutum 
 merita cum singulari erga nos et apostolicam sedem devotione 
 conjuncta, rerumque usus et in regenda archiepiscopali eccle- 
 sia Burdigalensi spectata fides et industria, te nobis et dictse 
 sedi commendarunt ita, ut nos in Domino sperare juberent 
 ministerium tuum ecclesise Dei magno usui et ornamento fu- 
 turum." 
 
 f " Ad personam tuam, quam divina dementia magnis illus- 
 travit gratiarum muneribus, paternse dirigentes considerationis 
 intuitum, et attente prospicientes quod tu Romanam Ecclesiam, 
 cujus honorabile membrum existis, tuorum plenius honoras 
 magnitudine meritorum, dignum quin potius debitum reputa- 
 mus ea tibi favorabiliter concedere," 
 
280 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 To letters so flattering, and such distinguished 
 marks of esteem, the new Cardinal returned the most 
 humble and modest replies. '* We have received 
 the letters of your Holiness," he said to him, " with 
 shame and confusion of face, as being conscious of 
 our unworthiness ; but, at the same time, with a lively 
 sense of gratitude, as a son who finds himself hon- 
 ored by a beloved father I experience a feeling 
 
 of stupor and fear, to find myself, unworthy as I am, 
 a member of the most illustrious College of Cardinals 
 of the Holy Church ; but, trusting in God who is my 
 strength, I beseech him to grant me grace to defend 
 as I ought the rights of the church and of the Holy 
 See, and to contribute to its prosperity." * 
 
 But one ceremony still remained for Cardinal 
 Cheverus to go through, more trying to his modes- 
 ty than all the rest. This was the solemn recep- 
 tion of the Cardinal's hat from the hands of the 
 King himself. On Wednesday, the 9th of March, 
 many court carriages, with the Charge d'AfFaires 
 of the Holy See, the Nuncio, and the Master of 
 Ceremonies, came to his hotel, to take him and his 
 
 * " Cum verecundia et vultus rubore, utpote indignitatis nos- 
 trse conscii, sed cum vivido grati animi sensu, utpote filius a 
 patre dilecto honoratus, litteras Sanctitatis Vestrse accepimus. 
 
 Me indignum in eminentissimo S. R. E. cardinalium col- 
 
 legio adscitum, cum stupore et timore conspicio ; sed confidens 
 in eo qui me confortat, precor ut Ecclesise sanctseque sedis 
 jura et prosperitatem defendere et promovere mihi Deus O. M. 
 concedere dignetur." 
 
PRIVATE INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. 281 
 
 suite, and proceeded to the Tuileries. After the 
 Pope's Nuncio had, according to custom, addressed 
 the King in Latin, mass was celebrated in the chapel, 
 and, at the conclusion of the holy sacrifice, the Car- 
 dinal, having fallen on his knees in the chancel, the 
 King, also on his knees, placed the Cardinal's hat 
 upon his head. The multitude having then retired, 
 the Cardinal arrayed himself in a red cassock and 
 all the badges of his new dignity, proceeded with a 
 great retinue to the apartments of the King, and ad- 
 dressed him In a discourse expressive of his gratitude. 
 After the ceremony, the King wished to see the 
 Cardinal in private, and spoke to him with so much 
 kindness, that his Eminence believed it a favorable 
 moment to solicit a favor which his heart earnestly 
 desired, — the release of M. de Peyronnet, a mem- 
 ber of his diocese, and that of his companions in 
 misfortune. The restoration of Hberty to a captive 
 would have yielded him the sweetest enjoyment of 
 the day. The King protested to him his good-will 
 and kind intentions ; but there the whole matter rest- 
 ed for the time. 
 
 On leaving the Tuileries, the Cardinal went to 
 visit the Archbishop of Paris, and thank him for the 
 very courteous manner In which he had offered him 
 his congratulations. The Archbishop, on his part, 
 obeying the impulse of his noble heart, testified to 
 Cardinal Cheverus in every way the joy he felt in 
 his elevation. He not only went to see him several 
 24* 
 
282 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 times, but he brought his Chapter to pay their re- 
 spects to him, in a body, in the name of the church 
 of Paris. In the midst of all these honors, the Car- 
 dinal was constantly sad. His elevated soul saw clear- 
 ly the nothingness of all this grandeur, and found in it 
 nothing satisfactory. " Of what importance is it," said 
 he, " to be enveloped after death in a red, purple, 
 or black shroud ? When we have seen thrones fall, 
 and still see daily the very foundations of society 
 shaken, how can we help feeling that there is noth- 
 ing permanent here below ? how attach any value to 
 human things ? " And then his elevation was so con- 
 trary to his simple and modest tastes. '•' Oh ! how 
 gladly," he said to the young men of the Seminary 
 of St. Sulpicius, " how gladly would I exchange this 
 red cap for yours," He left Paris as soon as pos- 
 sible, and returned to his diocese by the way of 
 Mayenne. The joy of this city, which beheld for 
 the first time a Cardinal who was a native of May- 
 enne, was unbounded. His Eminence was met at 
 every step by demonstrations of the most profound 
 respect, and the most sincere admiration. As for 
 himself, he was not on this account less humble, 
 nor less deeply sensible of the emptiness and noth- 
 ingness of all which the world admires. Urged to 
 go into the pulpit by a people eager to hear bim, 
 he spoke only of death, and the necessity of being 
 prepared to appear before God. "Most of those 
 whom I have formerly known in this city have dis- 
 
HIS RECEPTION AT BORDEAUX. 283 
 
 appeared," he said to ihem ; " death has removed 
 them all. This is a lesson to me, and teaches me 
 that I also shall soon disappear." 
 
 The Cardinal remained only a few days at May- 
 enne, and set off for Bordeaux, where he expected 
 to arrive on Tuesday of holy week. He had long 
 wished to keep the day of his return secret, in order 
 to avoid the pomp of a solemn reception ; but, finally, 
 he was obliged to yield to the earnest entreaties, the 
 pressing and reiterated solicitations of the people of 
 Bordeaux. This reception was as magnificent as 
 love, devotion, and enthusiasm could make it. In 
 spite of the rain which was falling, an immense multi- 
 tude came out to meet him, and filled the squares 
 and streets through which he was to pass. All the 
 troops in full uniform, all the civil authorities, all the 
 clergy assembled from various parts of the diocese, 
 all the people, in short, vied with each other in their 
 desire to prove to His Eminence how much they 
 respected and loved him ; what an honor they consid- 
 ered it to have him for their Archbishop ; and with 
 what noble pride they beheld the See of Bordeaux 
 graced with the Roman purple. The Cardinal felt 
 it deeply, less on account of the honor paid to his 
 person, than for the attachment which he thought 
 these exterior demonstrations evinced. Yet the sat- 
 isfaction he experienced this day was cruelly coun- 
 terbalanced by his sorrow of heart on hearing, the 
 
284 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 day after, of a melancholy disaster which had occur- 
 red in a remote part of his diocese. 
 
 A few days before his arrival, ninety-six fishermen 
 had left the port of Teste in eight boats, having 
 twelve men in each, to seek, by the toilsome occu- 
 pation of fishing in a troubled sea, the means of pro- 
 viding bread for their indigent families. They had 
 hardly reached a certain distance from the coast, 
 when the sea became more and more rough, the wind 
 blew with violence, and the waves rose, and tossed 
 their frail boats, which had little ballast. They 
 struggled long against the tempest; but at length it 
 prevailed ; boats and fishermen were all swallowed 
 up. Two boats only succeeded in saving themselves, 
 and brought to the afflicted shore intelligence of the 
 death of seventy-eight seamen; fifty-six of whom 
 were fathers of families, and twelve married men but 
 without children. The soul of the Cardinal was 
 deeply distressed at this news ; he wept for the dead, 
 and for so many widows and orphans, and exerted 
 himself to alleviate, as far as possible, such a great 
 calamity. After having appointed, for the next Sun- 
 day, a general collection in all the churches of Bor- 
 deaux, he made another appeal to the charity of the 
 Catholics, by convoking a charity meeting in the 
 cathedral, at which the preacher who had been most 
 distinguished during the season of Lent preached 
 in behalf of these unfortunate families. He then 
 sent to the scene of distress the Abbe Dupuch, that 
 
HIS CHARITY IN THE CASE OF SHIPWRECKED FISHERMEN. 285 
 
 apostle of charity, always ready to fly wherever there 
 was misery to relieve, or grief to console. Here the 
 most heart-rending spectacle presented itself to the 
 sight of the charitable priest ; a hundred and sixty- 
 one little orphans, with widows and old men, who, 
 in losing a father, a husband, or a son, had lost their 
 only means of subsistence. As a solace under these 
 heavy woes, the Cardinal announced a solemn service 
 for the shipwrecked mariners; and, after this mourn- 
 ful ceremony, so calculated to awaken compassion in 
 every heart, he poured forth the feelings of his soul 
 before a numerous audience, addressing to them the 
 exhortation from Ecclesiasticus,* so appropriate to the 
 occasion : " Be merciful to the fatherless as a father j 
 and as a husband to their mother : and thou shalt 
 be as the obedient son of the Most High, and he will 
 have mercy on thee more than a mother.'' This ap- 
 peal to their charity was heard, alms were liberally 
 contributed, and assistance of every kind was fur- 
 nished. An association was formed to take care of 
 the orphans; composed, 1st, Of the rich orphan 
 children of Bordeaux ; 2ndly, Of the children of 
 many rich families, whom the Cardinal urged to unite 
 in the good work. With the resources thus obtained 
 an asylum was opened at Bordeaux for those chil- 
 dren whom their relations wished to place there, and 
 assistance was sent to those whose mothers were un- 
 willing to be separated from them. The widows 
 
 * Chap. iv. 10. 
 
286 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 and old men also received such alms as they needed. 
 The lamentations for this great calamity were every- 
 where heard, and reached even to the foot of the 
 throne. The royal family sent them five thousand 
 francs, and the minister seven thousand ; and all, even 
 to the pupils of the Royal College, wished to ren- 
 der them some assistance. Besides a collection of 
 five thousand francs, these generous young men un- 
 dertook, in connexion with their parents, to educate 
 an orphan boy, and defray the expense of his studies, 
 if he were a proper subject ; if not, to place him in 
 a school of arts and trades. Thus was repaired, 
 so far at least as it could be, so great a disaster. 
 Soon after, being relieved from the solicitude which 
 this afflictive event had occasioned him. Cardinal 
 Cheverus published a code of ecclesiastical laws, 
 or diocesan statutes for his clergy. His priests had 
 for a long time been urging him to this, and hoped 
 that in his wisdom he w^ould consent, as it would 
 be the means of introducing uniformity into the 
 ecclesiastical government, and enable them to jus- 
 tify their acts before men as well as before God, 
 by their obedience. But tlie Cardinal, who would 
 do nothing in haste, who wished to allow sufficient 
 time for the spirit of observation to remark every 
 thing, and for prudence to weigh all, had waited 
 until the ninth year of his episcopal administration 
 in the See of Bordeaux, before he commenced 
 the undertaking. Then, a plan of the statutes was 
 
FRAMES STATUTES FOR HIS CLERGY. 287 
 
 drawn up, in concert with his grand-vicars, and 
 communicated to his priests when assembled for the 
 annual retreat ; and after having matured it many 
 months longer in silence and reflection, he at length 
 published the long expected statutes. On Whit- 
 sunday, of the year 1836, he issued a mandate 
 promulgating them. In this he announces, 1st, the 
 plan he had pursued. The whole is arranged under 
 three principal heads ; divine service, zeal for the 
 salvation of souls, and the ecclesiastical life which 
 priests ought to lead. He then goes on to exhibit 
 the advantages which the clergy will derive from 
 these holy rules, and the obligations they impose upon 
 them. And here his humility is pleased to declare, 
 that, although he gives these laws, it is not done in a 
 spirit of domination and authority. God, who sees 
 the recesses of the heart, knows that he would rather 
 be the humblest of his priests than be placed at 
 their head; and that the exercise of power was his 
 most painful duty. 2ndly. That he has not derived 
 these rules from his own wisdom, but from the ven- 
 erable Councils of antiquity, especially from the Coun- 
 cils of Bordeaux, the writings of the Fathers, and 
 the Holy Scriptures ; and, that every one might be 
 convinced of this, he had printed in the body of the 
 statutes, at the end of each article, the corresponding 
 passage from the Councils or the Fathers. We will 
 not enter into the detail of these statutes, which 
 would interest but few readers. They may be easily 
 
288 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 procured by ecclesiastics who may wish to become 
 acquainted with them. They exhibit a just medium 
 between mildness and severity, contain wise rules of 
 conduct, the fruits of his long experience as well as 
 of his prudence ; and we even find the actual legis- 
 lation on church revenues summed up in several 
 pages, with the rules which every priest ought to 
 observe in this matter. 
 
 This may be regarded as the last act of the ad- 
 ministration of Cardinal Cheverus, and also as the 
 most important. By this he will still live in his dio- 
 cese, and govern, even after his death, the clergy 
 who were so dear to him, direct their conduct, and 
 furnish them with rules of duty. 
 
 Not long after this important act of episcopal au- 
 thority, he had the satisfaction of rendering some ser- 
 vice to two illustrious exiles. The first was the Arch* 
 bishop of Saragossa, a venerable and infirm old man, 
 who had been banished to a distance from the Span- 
 ish frontier. Cardinal Cheverus spared no effort to 
 obtain leave to retain him in Bordeaux ; and, at his 
 own request, received him into his seminary, where he 
 was treated with all that attention and respect which 
 his character, his situation, his office, and his mild 
 and elevated virtues demanded. The second was the 
 Bishop of Leon ; an active and zealous prelate, of 
 a frank and noble character, a strong and elevated 
 soul. The police having arrested him as a former 
 minister of Don Carlos, the Cardinal hastened to visit 
 
VISITS SAINT FOY. 289 
 
 him, and express the deep interest he took in his 
 situation. He offered to intercede for him, and did 
 in fact intercede. The authorities consented to his 
 release, but on condition that he would give his 
 word not to return to Don Carlos. " I do not wish 
 for liberty on those terms," replied the illustrious 
 prisoner ; " if I gave my word, I should keep it ; but 
 so far am I from consenting to enter into such an 
 engagement, that I declare to you that it is my firm 
 resolution, as I esteem it my duty, to return to Spain 
 as soon as I possibly can." This frankness was sin- 
 gularly pleasing to Cardinal Cheverus ; it accorded 
 with his own open and loyal character. And not- 
 withstanding the short time these two prelates had 
 an opportunity to pass together, they felt a mutual 
 friendship ; and the Bishop of Leon, having been con- 
 veyed to Strasbourg, wrote the Cardinal a letter full 
 of gratitude and tenderness. His Eminence had no 
 opportunity to answer it ; for, a few days after, the 
 journals announced officially the return of this noble 
 and intrepid prelate to Spain. 
 
 In the mean time, the clergy of the canton of 
 Saint-Foy, situated in the most distant part of his di- 
 ocese, requested the happiness of a visit from his 
 Eminence, and of presenting him a large number of 
 persons for confirmation. The Cardinal was urged 
 to defer this journey, on account of the uncomfort- 
 ableness of the season ; the heat was excessive, and 
 the mercury rose to nearly one hundred degrees ; but 
 25 
 
290 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 such considerations had never deterred him, nor did 
 they even then- He set off, therefore, and visited 
 all the parishes of this district, preaching with power 
 and zeal many times a day, officiating in all the 
 churches, and administering confirmation to a multi- 
 tude of the faithful. These various ceremonies confin- 
 ed him four or five hours every day, in places where 
 the immense crowd rendered the heat of the weather 
 still more oppressive. He could hardly breathe ; so 
 that, to save himself from fainting, he was obliged 
 to interrupt the confirmation from time to time, and 
 seek fresh air a few moments in the sacristy. The 
 priests who accompanied him, although robust and 
 strong, were exhausted by fatigue and heat. The 
 Cardinal, on whom the whole weight of these labors 
 devolved, never thought of complaining, and still less 
 of allowing himself any repose, or suspending so ar- 
 duous a course of duty. He therefore went through 
 with all these labors, and returned to Bordeaux on 
 Saturday, the 2nd of July, exhausted and incapable of 
 further effort. He had, however, made engagements 
 for the next day, and he was not a man to shrink from 
 performing them. And the next day, which was Sun- 
 day, he went to confirm a large number of children 
 at the parish of Saint Peter ; preached before and 
 after the ceremony with his accustomed zeal ; and 
 thence proceeded to the farthest extremity of the 
 city, to officiate pontifically in the church of Saint 
 Martial, in which the festival of its patron was that day 
 
HIS STRENGTH IS EXHAUSTED. 291 
 
 celebrated. He was so much exhausted, and con- 
 sumed by such a burning heat and parching thirst, 
 that his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. 
 He felt faint and prostrate. Alas ! that faintness and 
 prostration of strength were the precursors of his 
 approaching death ; a death, for ever to be lament- 
 ed by all those who knew and appreciated this 
 great Cardinal ; but for ever glorious to himself, 
 since, if he fell, it was beneath the labors and fa- 
 tigues of his ministry ; if he died, it was in the 
 breach, with arms in his hands. 
 
292 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 BOOK FIFTH. 
 
 CHARACTER AND DEATH OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Between the circumstances mentioned in the pre- 
 ceding book, and the terrible stroke which at once 
 and for ever deprived Cardinal Cheverus of all sense 
 and consciousness, but a few days intervened, and 
 those unmarked by any incident ; so that we may 
 now be said to have reached the close of the moral 
 and intellectual life of this excellent prelate. But, 
 as we approach the termination of so beautiful a 
 life, and before describing the illness and death 
 which removed him from earth, another task remains 
 for us to perform. We have hitherto spoken of 
 Cardinal Cheverus only in relation to the actions 
 which successively filled up the course of his life. 
 But he would be very imperfectly known, if we 
 should stop here. Public acts often disclose only 
 an apparent or a transient virtue, an effort of self- 
 control, by which one rouses himself for a great 
 occasion, after which he sinks again ; and the hero in 
 public is often a very small man in the details of 
 private and domestic life. But to know a man 
 thoroughly, to discern his virtues clearly, without a 
 possibility of deception, we must take a view of his 
 
HIS REGULAR HABITS. 293 
 
 whole life, as well private as public, his e very-day 
 conduct, when he is alone and unseen by men, as 
 well as when exposed to the eye of the observing 
 multitude ; and, in a word, look upon the portrait of 
 his entire soul. We are now to consider Cardinal 
 Cheverus under this new point of view; and shall 
 attempt to draw such a picture of him. We have 
 not been able to do this before ; because, appertain- 
 ing equally to all periods of his life, this delineation 
 properly belongs to no particular portion of it ; and 
 we think we ought not longer to defer it, since, in 
 making the reader more intimately acquainted with 
 Cardinal Cheverus, we shall better prepare him to 
 understand the lively interest he excited during his 
 sickness, the tears which were shed at his death, and 
 the regrets that followed him to the tomb. 
 
 The most remarkable feature in the life of Car- 
 dinal Cheverus is the equal and uniform regularity 
 of his existence, except when charity, or some other 
 duty, obliged him to deviate from his usual habits. 
 He thought a want of method in the employment of 
 the day necessarily involved the loss of time, pre- 
 vented the performance of many duties, and indicated 
 a character wanting in energy, incapable of control- 
 ling the variations of taste and the caprices of fancy. 
 So, on the other hand, he thought that the Christian 
 life is essentially one of method ; that the exact or- 
 der which regulates each moment of the day, which 
 sees that every thing is done in its proper time and 
 25* 
 
294 LIFE OF CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 occupies its own proper place, is a source of peace, 
 serenity, and happiness to those who regard it, a 
 spectacle of virtue and religion to those who are 
 witnesses of it, and a guaranty for the accomplish- 
 ment of every duty. And never was a life better 
 regulated than his own. In the course of his ec- 
 clesiastical education, he had contracted habits of 
 regularity, which he preserved faithfully until his 
 death. He always rose very early, at four o'clock 
 in summer, and at half past four in winter, that he 
 might be able to perform his devotions in silence 
 and peace, free from any interruption from without. 
 At six o'clock he celebrated the holy mass, and, 
 after giving thanks, studied the Holy Scriptures, 
 reading every day two chapters in the Old Testa- 
 ment and two in the New, in Latin, French, Greek, 
 and English ; and frequently he studied the Hebrew 
 text also, when less multiplied avocations allowed 
 him time. He attributed his knowledge of the Holy 
 Scriptures to the faithful observance of this practice. 
 The same portion, thus read in four languages, was 
 deeply engraven on his mind and heart ; the more 
 so, as he was not impelled to this study by a vain 
 curiosity, but engaged in it with that devotional 
 spirit, religious thoughtfulness, and respect for the 
 Holy Scriptures, which touch and penetrate the soul, 
 and impress it with their sacred truths. When he had 
 finished these studies, he occupied himself with his 
 correspondence, which he carried on himself; ern- 
 
THE SIMPLICITY OP HIS TABLE. 295 
 
 ploying his clerks only in matters relating to the rou- 
 tine of official business. Precisely at noon, the bell 
 rang for dinner, at the first sound of which he went 
 directly, leaving whatever he was engaged about, and 
 courteously inviting all present to partake of the re- 
 past which had just been announced. He com- 
 menced by asking a blessing aloud, and then did the 
 honors of the table with a dignified, easy, and un- 
 affected politeness. It was served with frugality, but 
 without meanness, and presented an abundance of 
 wholesome food, but never any of those rare and 
 costly dishes which are the refinements of luxury or 
 of gluttony. The Cardinal assigned this hospitable 
 reason for the simplicity which distinguished it, ^to 
 his numerous guests : " If I should assemble my 
 friends at great entertainments only, I could see them 
 but very rarely ; instead of which, having every day 
 a frugal table to offer them, I can see them frequent- 
 ly, which gives me great pleasure." But something 
 better than the choicest dishes rendered these re- 
 pasts delicious ; the delightful ease which all were 
 permitted to enjoy, the freedom of pleasant and live- 
 ly discussion, in which each could take a part, and, 
 above all, the charm of his own conversation. No- 
 where was he more agreeable than at table ; there 
 he gave himself up to all the inspirations of his 
 genius, and opened the treasures of his inexhaustible 
 memory ; now, gracefully relating his recollections of 
 America, or some amusing story ; and now, enlivening 
 
296 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 the company by the wittiest repartees, the happiest 
 bons-mots, and often even with quotations from the 
 French, Latin, Greek, or Enghsh poets, always appro- 
 priately introduced. The repast lasted three quar- 
 ters of an hour ; after which, the company assembled 
 in the garden, if the weather was pleasant, or in the 
 saloon, if it was rainy or cold, where he conversed 
 till about two o'clock. This was his only recreation ; 
 yet even these brief moments were usually devoted 
 to business, passed in listening to the priests or the 
 laity who wished to speak with him, either to ob- 
 tain his advice, or receive his orders. When the 
 guests had departed, he shut himself up in his room 
 till eight o'clock, dividing all this long time between 
 prayer, study, and business. He never went out, 
 except when called abroad by the duties of his min- 
 istry or the claims of charity or politeness. When, 
 in 1834, after his first attack of apoplexy, the phy- 
 sicians ordered him to go abroad for a little while in 
 the afternoon of every day, he made this necessary 
 walk an exercise of charity, by paying a visit of con- 
 solation to some afflicted family, or some sick person. 
 At eight o'clock his household was assembled for 
 supper. Some vegetables, generally without bread, 
 was the only food he took at this meal. At nine 
 o'clock precisely, he called his servants together, read 
 to them a subject of meditation for the next day, 
 and himself read evening prayers, all joining in the 
 responses. 
 
HIS PUNCTUALITY. 297 
 
 Such was the regular course of Cardinal Chever- 
 us's daily life ; in which we find no stated time set 
 apart for receiving those who had business with him, 
 because, regarding charity as the first of all rules, he 
 was accessible to all, from the time he rose in the 
 morning until he retired at night. Every Sunday 
 and holyday when he was in Bordeaux, he attended 
 the services of the cathedral ; during Lent, he went 
 to hear all the sermons delivered by the preacher of 
 the season, especially when he perceived that he was 
 unpopular. In this he was influenced by two motives ; 
 to induce the parishioners to attend by his own ex- 
 ample, and to console the preacher, as much as pos- 
 sible, for the desertion of his hearers. 
 
 Such a regular life had given Cardinal Cheverus 
 habits of punctuality truly astonishing. In his pas- 
 toral retreats he was always first in attendance at all 
 the exercises; when he was to officiate anywhere, he 
 was always on the spot before the time of the cere- 
 mony, and always ready to commence at the precise 
 moment. He was never known to keep any one 
 waiting; and, as if there was little merit in this exact- 
 itude, he used to say, that it was quite as easy to set 
 out a quarter of an hour sooner as to wait a quarter 
 of an hour later. The same punctuality which he 
 exhibited abroad, he observed in all the rest of his 
 conduct. Had he a letter to answer, he did it the 
 same day or the next, if his engagements permitted, 
 but always as soon as possible. Did any one ask 
 
29S LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 to speak with him, he directly left the study, 
 business, or conversation in which he was engaged, 
 and sometimes even his meals, to comply more 
 promptly with the request. Was he invited to preach, 
 he always prepared his sermon as early as possible, 
 that he might not run the risk of treating less re- 
 spectfully the word of God. Thus, in all his con- 
 duct, he was never guided by what was more or less 
 agreeable to himself, but always by what was most 
 needful at the moment, and most conformable to the 
 order of Providence. 
 
 Thus was every day fully occupied, and all his 
 time usefully employed. Large assemblies, at which 
 people of the world seek to pass away the time 
 which is a burden to them, were never held at his 
 house. Although the elegance of his mind would 
 have enabled him to shine in polished society, he 
 never frequented parties, nor gave them at his pal- 
 ace ; he allowed himself in none of those games 
 or frivolous pastimes which so many persons deem 
 necessary ; he professed not to understand any game, 
 and did not wish to learn any ; nor did he indulge 
 himself in walking, which seems to afford so reason- 
 able and innocent a relaxation. Although he had a 
 country-house a league from Bordeaux, he never went 
 there, unless when impelled to do so by some motive 
 of kindness; either to accompany friends who were de- 
 sirous of seeing it, or to gratify his steward, who wished 
 to show him the improvements he had made there. 
 
DILfGENT EMPLOYMENT OF HIS TIME. 299 
 
 If he sometimes appeared at the country-houses of 
 his seminaries, it was merely out of complaisance, that 
 he might not disappoint the Superiors, who had begged 
 him to come ; as appeared on the following occasion. 
 The Superior of one of these establishments once 
 expressed to the Cardinal how happy he should be 
 to enjoy his society, whenever it should be agreeable 
 to him to come and walk there. "If I come," re- 
 plied the Archbishop, " only when the walk is agree- 
 able to me, you will never see me. Since I have 
 been a priest, I have never walked a quarter of an 
 hour for pleasure ; I shall not begin at my age." 
 For the same reason, after the example of Saint Am- 
 brose and Saint Augustine, he made it a rule never 
 to accept an invitation to any repast in the city, ex- 
 cept at the houses of his curates, and then onl^ on 
 days when he officiated in their churches. " I should 
 lose," he said, " half my time, if I accepted all the 
 invitations I might receive ; and I should occasion 
 jealousy and enmity, if I accepted some and refused 
 others." He much preferred his own frugal dinner, 
 which occupied him but a few brief moments ; be- 
 sides, such a course gave him the advantage of being 
 able to assure his priests and his friends that he 
 should always be at his own table to receive them. 
 Thus had Cardinal Cheverus given up whatever could 
 interfere with the diligent employment of his time ; 
 and such was his strictness in this respect, that even 
 in his pastoral circuits, after having performed his 
 
300 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ministerial functions in the church, and made such 
 visits as propriety required, he retired to his cham- 
 ber, and devoted himself to study, to writing letters, 
 or to prayer ; while the priests who accompanied him, 
 or the clergy of the place, indulged in a relaxation 
 which they deemed necessary. The following is a 
 still more remarkable instance. Having one day ar- 
 rived at his lower seminary, by some mistake, an hour 
 before the time appointed for the exercise at which 
 he was to preside, he preferred to return on foot to 
 the archiepiscopal palace, which w^as twenty minutes' 
 walk, to passing that hour in unprofitable conversa- 
 tion, while awaiting the commencement of the exer- 
 cise. He sincerely pitied those, who, in order to pass 
 their time happily, feel the need of frivolous amuse- 
 ments, of entertainments, company, evening parties, 
 games, or novels. ^'Are not the Holy Scriptures, 
 history, literature, and the natural sciences," said he, 
 ^^interesting enough to fill up our short existence? 
 When we have in our hands and before our eyes 
 so many things calculated to engage the mind and 
 the heart, so worthy to enrich our understanding and 
 adorn our memory, how can we waste our time in 
 play and frivolity ? For myself," he added, '^ 1 need 
 no companion to enable me to pass delightful hours. 
 Prayer and study have always constituted the charm 
 of my life." The Cardinal, in fact, was never seen 
 die, or indulging himself in any amusement what- 
 ever. His strong mind was always occupied with 
 
HIS LEARNING AND VARIED ATTAINMENTS. 301 
 
 serious things, .and knew no repose but such as a 
 change of occupation afforded. Thus, when he was 
 fatigued with business, he found rest in the study of 
 antiquity. " When the living weary me," said he, 
 "I come and refresh myself with the dead." 
 
 Thus diligent in the employment of his time, we 
 may imagine what stores of knowledge the Cardinal 
 must have acquired during his long life, and may 
 form a better idea of them, when we consider that 
 his memory was truly astonishing ; what he once in- 
 trusted to it was always retained. It was a living 
 library, where every thing was classed and arranged, 
 and where he could find examples, facts, and apt 
 quotations, as he had need of them. We have al- 
 ready seen, in the First Book, to what perfection he 
 carried his knowledge of the Latin language during 
 the period of his youthful studies, and his facility in 
 using it. In America he lost nothing of that facility, 
 or of his brilliant elocution ; so that he used to say, as 
 we are informed by a Boston journal,* that, should 
 he be obliged to plead for his life, before judges capa- 
 ble of understanding him. he should prefer to express 
 himself in Latin ; believing that suitable thoughts 
 and expressions would occur to him more readily in 
 that language. He was scarcely less familiar with 
 Greek than with Latin ; he frequently read authors in 
 the former language, and when he was present at the 
 literary exercises of the college, he willingly exam- 
 
 * [Boston Monthly Magazine, June, 1825.] 
 26 
 
302 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ined the students in that branch of study. With 
 respect to English, he understood it better even 
 than French ; he always thought in that language, 
 even in his dreams; and when he was preaching, it 
 was a labor to him to translate his ideas, which al- 
 ways presented themselves to his mind clothed in 
 the English idiom. Hebrew he knew less perfectly ; 
 yet he had sufficient acquaintance with it to refute 
 the ministers of various sects, who wished to draw 
 from that language objections against the Catholic faith. 
 The knowledge of languages was, however, the 
 smallest part of his attainments. To say nothing of 
 mathematics, which he had taught in England ; of 
 ancient and modern history, especially ecclesiastical 
 history, which he often reperused, even in the latter 
 part of his life ; the history of England, on which he 
 had read a great deal ; and the history of France, 
 with all the events and epochs of which he was per- 
 fectly familiar : he had, more especially, a thorough 
 acquaintance with controversial theology. Besides the 
 diligent attention he had given to this subject at the 
 Sorbonne, he had made it his constant and careful study 
 during his whole residence in America. The neces- 
 sity he felt, at that time, of confirming the Catholics 
 in their belief, in the midst of the many errors with 
 which they w^ere surrounded, of combating the doc- 
 trines of the clergymen of different sects, and some- 
 times even of preaching in their churches, had ren- 
 dered him such an adept in this branch of ecclesias- 
 tical science, that he was equally skilful in presenting 
 
H[S KNOWLEDGE OP THE SCRIPTURES. 303 
 
 clear proofs of the dogmas of our faith, and in refut- 
 ing all the objections which the spirit of heresy- 
 had invented against it. But his greatest proficiency- 
 was in the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures and of 
 general literature. He could not conceive that the 
 Catholics should study the sacred books so little, 
 and be so imperfectly acquainted with their contents. 
 He often reproached those persons with whom he 
 was most intimate for this neglect. " You read friv- 
 olous books," he said to them, " perhaps even ro- 
 mances; but you do not read the most beautiful of 
 all books, the most touching of all histories." Not 
 but that he condemned, as decidedly as any one, the 
 error of those who present this divine book to every 
 understanding, as a rule of faith intelligible to all ; 
 but he wished it to be read in a spirit of submission 
 to the church, which is its only legitimate interpreter ; 
 with sentiments of piety, of faith, and of devotion ; and, 
 above all, with a desire to be made better by reading 
 it. This he himself did, and, from constantly reading 
 the Bible, he knew it almost all by heart. The Old 
 Testament was as famihar to him as the Gospels; 
 he had meditated on its historical passages, and its 
 maxims of morality, and on the application which 
 might be made of each to the various situations of life ; 
 so that, whatever subject he had to treat, he always had 
 at command all the passages best suited to his purpose. 
 To his own reflections he added those of the most 
 able commentators, especially Saint Chrysostom. 
 
304 LIFE OP CARDtNAL CIIEVfiRL/S. 
 
 Not only did he derive, from reading this illustrious 
 doctor of the church, the advantage of keeping up 
 his knowledge of the Greek language, but he par- 
 ticularly admired his style ; his enlarged, noble, and 
 eloquent manner of commenting on the Scriptures ; 
 his enthusiasm for Saint Paul, in vi'hich he sympa- 
 thized ; and the outpourings of his tender and suscep- 
 tible soul. But if the Holy Scriptures held the first 
 rank in the attainments of Cardinal Cheverus, liter- 
 ature occupied the second place. We have already 
 seen, that his position in Boston had made it his duty, 
 as it were, to apply himself to studies of this nature ; 
 and, his mind being peculiarly adapted to them, he 
 had cultivated them with entire success. The great 
 models of Rome and of Athens, Homer and Virgil, 
 Demosthenes and Cicero, were familiar to him, and 
 he knew many passages from them by heart. Ho- 
 race, especially, he looked upon as a friend, with whom 
 he delighted to amuse himself; and this author was 
 often seen upon his table, beside the Bible, as a re- 
 creation for his mind after long and serious labors. 
 He knew almost the whole of it by heart, and, when 
 occasion offered, made the happiest and most witty 
 application of his verses. To a knowledge of ancient 
 authors, the Cardinal united an uncommon acquaint- 
 ance with French and English literature. He had 
 read the standard works in both, retained the most 
 striking passages in his memory, and always continued 
 to read the most remarkable books that appeared, 
 
CHARACTER OP HIS MIND. 305 
 
 either in France or England. He read them, not 
 with that levity of mind which seeks only to gratify 
 a vain curiosity, but with that correctness of taste, 
 that quick penetration, and that profound reflection, 
 which take cognizance of every thing ; which are not 
 satisfied with brilliant imagery and a pompous style, 
 but desire, above all things, clearness of expression, 
 truth, accuracy, and soundness of thought. Hence 
 the severity with which he judged all modern works. 
 He found most of them defective in matter, as well 
 as in manner ; and used to say that the scribomania 
 of our age was a proof of its ignorance. ''Authors," 
 said he, "think they are giving us something new. 
 If they were belter informed, they would see that all 
 they write has been said before, and much better ; 
 their productions would make them ashamed, like the 
 writing of a child compared to that of its master." 
 In regard to himself, his principle was, that a bishop 
 should print as little as possible ; since every printed 
 production is liable to public criticism, and it is not 
 becoming the episcopal dignity to make itself unne- 
 cessarily amenable to that tribunal. This explains 
 why his mandates were as brief as they were few, 
 and why he who spoke so often wrote so little. 
 
 Although the mind of Cardinal Cheverus was 
 adorned with all the beauty and splendor of elegant 
 literature, it was still more richly endowed by na- 
 ture. It was one of large and comprehensive views, 
 which did not allow him to be prejudiced against 
 26* 
 
306 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 any person or thing, by an unfavorable first impres- 
 sion or disadvantageous report. He examined for 
 himself, in all its aspects, the subject upon which 
 he was about to pass judgment ; and if he found 
 it good in the main, he gave it his approbation, in 
 spite of any thing which might displease him in 
 point of form, and encouraged it as far as was in 
 his power, as if it had been altogether to his mind. 
 To a comprehensive mind he united shrewdness and 
 penetration. He possessed a nice discrimination in 
 observing both men and things, society, with its ten- 
 dencies and progress, and in determining what was 
 proper to be said on every occasion. But he was more 
 partiqularly distinguished for talents of a pleasing, 
 delicate, and elegant order. No one understood bet- 
 ter than he how to give life to a company, to im- 
 part information and instruction, and season his con- 
 versation with lively sallies and witty repartees ; and he 
 always discoursed in an elevated, easy, and interest- 
 ing manner. More than once, he found himself in 
 company with the wits of the day, who seemed 
 desirous to show off their talents in his presence ; 
 and it has been observed, that the Cardinal, with- 
 out making any effort, always bore away the palm, 
 by his prompt and lively remarks or rejoinders, and 
 the urbanity of his thoughts and mode of expression. 
 If he was called upon unexpectedly to reply to any 
 public address, he answered, without a moment's hes- 
 itation, in the most appropriate manner, and was 
 
aUALITIES OF HIS HEART. 307 
 
 ready with the dehcate compliment, the ingenious 
 thought, the pertinent reflection, all adapted to the 
 discourse of the speaker who had addressed him. 
 If he was brought into intercourse with persons of 
 the highest rank in society, he won their affection 
 by his engaging and courteous address, sometimes 
 even at the first interview ; and thus the graces 
 of his mind everywhere gained him numerous and 
 powerful friends. And, finally, if he was called to 
 decide upon the best course to be adopted in diffi- 
 cult circumstances, his mind, too noble to be influ- 
 enced by prepossessions or prejudice, viewed the 
 subject as it really was, and weighed impartially the 
 reasons for and against it ; too humble to rely solely 
 upon himself, he gladly took counsel ; too wise to be 
 precipitate in his decisions, he always matured them 
 in the calmness of reflection. 
 
 But, distinguished as the Cardinal was for the qual- 
 ities of his mind, he was much more so for those 
 of his heart, — a noble heart, and filled with lofty 
 sentiments, a stranger to all the littleness of vanity, 
 self-love, and self-seeking ; a generous heart, eager 
 to do good to all men to the extent of his ability, 
 and exceedingly grateful for the least benefit received 
 from them. It was his principle, that, as the ben- 
 efactor ought to forget the service he has had the 
 happiness to render, and never allude to it, so the 
 person obliged ought, on the contrary, to bear it always 
 in mind, and show, on every occasion, that he still 
 
308 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 remembers it. On this principle he invariably prac- 
 tised. After conferring a benefit, he seemed to be 
 the person obliged, and redoubled his attention and 
 zeal. So, after receiving a favor, often even after any 
 slight token of interest and good-will, his gratitude 
 and affection were secured to you for ever. Hence 
 his eagerness to welcome, and invite to his table, 
 all the English or Irish whom he happened to 
 meet. "That people," said he, "received me with 
 so much kindness, and treated me with so much 
 indulgence, that I am always happy in having an 
 opportunity to manifest my gratitude to the nation, 
 in the person of any individual member of it.'' He 
 possessed a tender and susceptible heart ; but his 
 sensibility was not that weakness which enervates 
 the soul, and destroys resolution ; it was the tender- 
 ness of charity ; the same sensibility which made our 
 Lord weep for Lazarus dead, and over unbelieving 
 Jerusalem. He had no sympathy with those hard 
 hearts which make it a system, and, as it were, a 
 religious duty, to be cold in their attachments, and 
 not to weep for those they love, when separated from 
 them by death or any other event. " Religion," 
 said he, "is love itself; it does not destroy what is 
 tender and affectionate in the heart; it only purifies 
 and sanctifies it." His sensibility increased with his 
 age, and, towards the latter part of his life, the least 
 thing moved him to tears. Hence we may form 
 some idea of the nature of his friendship. He was. 
 
HIS INGENUOUSNESS OF CHARACTER. 309 
 
 indeed, an exemplification of Fenelon's remark, that 
 "nothing is so tender, so sincere, so fervid, so gentle, 
 so amiable, and so affectionate, as a heart filled 
 and animated by a friendship purified by religion." 
 His affection was so frank, cordial, and disinterested, 
 that the more he was known the belter he was al- 
 ways loved, and no one who had once loved him 
 could ever become alienated from him. He was, 
 as has been said of the Archbishop of Cambray, 
 every thing amiable and engaging, that the most 
 noble, gentle, and susceptible soul could render him. 
 We have seen some persons taking the voyage from 
 the United States to Bordeaux, merely to enjoy his 
 society for a few weeks ; others coming to take up 
 their residence in that city, that they might never 
 be separated from him ; so powerful was the en- 
 chantment he threw over the intercourse of friend- 
 ship. He said, towards the close of his life, that 
 he had never lost one of the many friends he had 
 possessed in the course of it, except by death. All 
 remained firmly attached and cordially devoted to 
 him, and captivated, so to speak, by his many amiable 
 qualities. 
 
 The ingenuousness of Cardinal Cheverus was most 
 attractive, and endeared him greatly to all his friends. 
 He used no subterfuges, no disguise, or conceal- 
 ment; as he was in appearance, such was he in re- 
 ality. In his genuine simplicity, all frankness and 
 rectitude, he never could feign a sentiment he did 
 
310 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 not feel. Whatever he said, one felt certain that 
 his language expressed the very thoughts of his 
 soul. If he professed attachment, one might rest 
 assured that he felt it in his heart. His words 
 were always like beautiful, transparent crystal, through 
 which his whole soul could be seen. He could 
 not tolerate the employing of concealment, mental 
 reservation, or equivocation, to bring another over to 
 our own views. " To act thus," he said, "is to 
 deceive, and deception, even for a good end, is un- 
 worthy of a man and of a Christian." Moreover, he 
 never used two kinds of language, one when a per- 
 son was present, another when he was absent ; he 
 always wished to speak of things freely, as they 
 really were, and took it for granted that others 
 would do the same to him. Nothing offended him 
 so much as a want of simplicity and rectitude. This 
 spirit of candor governed every act of his adminis- 
 tration ; he never employed artifice, evasion, or sub- 
 terfuge, but did every thing openly and above board. 
 To one, he would frankly tell the difficulties of the sit- 
 uation to which he sent him ; to another, the various 
 complaints made against him. The same spirit was 
 observable in his private and personal conduct. He 
 never, either in his devotions or in any thing 
 whatever, put on the semblance of a sentiment he 
 did not feel. ** I appear what I am," said he, 
 " and I endeavour to be what I ought to appear." 
 He was one day congratulated because none of the 
 
HIS HUMILITY. 311 
 
 buildings in the neighbourhood of the archiepiscopal 
 palace overlooked his garden. " It is of little con- 
 sequence to me," he replied ; " I have not two ways 
 of acting ; one when men see me, and another when 
 they do not ; I endeavour to do nothing in private 
 that I might not do in public, nor even to think 
 any thing which I might not speak aloud if the oc- 
 casion were fitting.'' 
 
 No one can be surprised, then, that he was so 
 humble and so modest. Christian humility is the 
 candor of virtue ; and man is proud, only because 
 he will not acknowledge to himself the truth of his 
 own nothingness and misery ; of his nothingness, since 
 all he has is the gift of God, which may be taken 
 from him at any moment ; of his misery, since the 
 many propensities to evil, against which he is con- 
 stantly obliged to contend in order to be virtuous, 
 reveal to him that he is a degraded being, who can- 
 not indulge in pride without cheating himself. Cardi- 
 nal Cheverus frankly acknowledged these things, and 
 had such a deep sense of their truth, that he en- 
 tertained the most modest and humble opinion of 
 himself. He did not set himself above any person 
 in the world in his own estimation ; not even above 
 the poor, and men of the lowest condition, "be- 
 cause," said he, " they are our brothers, our fellow- 
 beings, and perhaps many of them will one day be 
 exalted above us in the presence of God ; " not 
 even above the greatest sinners, " because," he farther 
 
312 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVEKUS. 
 
 said, " who knows what we should have become, 
 without the grace of God ? Perhaps we should have 
 done worse than they." He experienced these feel- 
 ings of deep humility, especially, whenever he visited 
 the institutions for the insane which were in his di- 
 ocese. *•' Among these people," he said, "there are 
 men who once had a great deal of mind and much 
 knowledge, of all which they have been deprived in a 
 moment ; and the same thing may happen to us, at a 
 moment when we least expect it. When we think 
 of this, how can we be proud of our intellect or our 
 learning? " 
 
 With such humility, it is easy to imagine how far 
 removed from every thing like pomp and pretension 
 was the conduct of the Cardinal. No shadow of os- 
 tentation or self-conceit was ever discovered in him ; 
 nor the least appearance of pride or arrogance. On 
 the contrary, his humility was so profound, his mod- 
 esty so remarkable, that he felt the need of being 
 cheered and encouraged. When he spoke of him- 
 self, it was in terms of abasement and humiliation. 
 He asked prayers for his poor self, the poor arch- 
 bishop; and the humility and emotion with which 
 he said these things proved that he spoke from his 
 very heart. When he presided over his clergy, as- 
 sembled for pastoral retreats, he seemed ashamed to 
 raise his voice in the midst of his priests ; he re- 
 garded himself as the least of all, and, borrowing 
 the celebrated words of the Bishop of Hippo, he 
 
HIS PATIENCE UNDER INJURIES. 313 
 
 said, " I know that Jerome is more worthy than 
 Augustine; I do not deceive myself; my brethren, my 
 beloved, sustain my w^eakness ; I have need of your 
 support, to save me from becoming discouraged." 
 All the clergy listened in tears and with deep emo- 
 tion to such expressions of humility, and admired the 
 perfect exempHfication he gave of the direction of 
 the Holy Spirit. "Have they made thee ruler? be 
 not lified up ; be among them as one of them : 
 Rectorem ie posueruntj noli extolli; esto in illis quasi 
 unus ex ipsis.^' * 
 
 Cardinal Cheverus did yet more ; he endured 
 wrong and abuse, as if it were a slight matter to 
 commit any offence against his poor self, to borrow 
 his own expression. The common decencies of so- 
 ciety were so far forgotten, that the most insulting 
 letters, both as respects matter and form, were re- 
 peatedly addressed to him. But they never offended 
 or discomposed him, and he never even thought of 
 complaining of them ; and when he again met the 
 persons who had written them, he spoke to them 
 with touching kindness, and seemed to have for- 
 gotten every thing; or if he remembered aught, it 
 was out of regard to them. " Permit me," he 
 said to them, " to give you the advice of a friend, 
 for your own sake alone. The manner in which you 
 wrote to me is of no consequence as it respects my- 
 
 * Ecclesiasticus xxxii. 1 
 
 27 
 
314 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 self, and I am far from feeling offended at it ; but if 
 you should write in that style to other persons in 
 authority, who do not know and love you as I do, 
 it might be attended with unpleasant consequences 
 to you; you might make yourself enemies who 
 would have power to injure you." The history of 
 his life has exhibited him to us, on many other 
 occasions, calm in the midst of censure, and patient 
 under reproach. He submitted cheerfully to the un- 
 favorable judgments of men ; and often, when he was 
 unexpectedly called upon to go into the pulpit 
 without any time for reflection, he has been heard 
 to say with his good-natured playfulness, " I run the 
 risk of having it said that the poor Archbishop dotes ; 
 but there is no great harm in that." 
 
 One other circumstance shows still more clearly 
 the unaffected humility of the Cardinal. During the 
 whole course of his life, his only aim was to do 
 good in silence and privacy, to avoid the distinc- 
 tion of honors and the noise of fame. When he was 
 studying at the Sorbonne, and there obtained such 
 splendid success as might have awakened in his 
 heart hopes of a brilliant future, his sole wish was 
 to obtain a professor's chair, and, in that situa- 
 tion, to pass the rest of his days in obscurity, but 
 in peace, dividing them between study and prayer. 
 Such was the retired and tranquil life which the 
 moderation of his desires and the modesty of his 
 character would have chosen. When he left Eng- 
 
HIS FREEDOM FROM AMBITION. 315 
 
 land to devote himself to the American mission, he 
 regarded the plan as presenting only an obscure, 
 but useful and laborious career, and this was his 
 sole ambition. If he was raised to the prelacy, it 
 was without his knowledge, and in spite of his op- 
 position. Obliged to consent to it, he was not, on 
 that account, less humble or less modest than when he 
 was a simple priest. If, after being recalled to France 
 by the orders of the King, he was compelled to leave 
 Montauban and become Archbishop of Bordeaux, it 
 was with inexpressible grief; and his humility was 
 overwhelmed by it. If, in short, he was raised to 
 the cardinalship, he did every thing he could to pre- 
 vent his promotion, and never ceased to regret it to 
 the day of his death. Dignities inspired him with 
 a dread, which, during a portion of his life, was 
 one of his severest trials ; so that he said he was 
 sometimes tempted to wish for a little spice of am- 
 bition, to sustain his courage under the weight of 
 honors which overwhelmed him. " Providence," said 
 he, "has dealt very severely with me; my only wish 
 has been to live unknown ; I have ever felt averse 
 to honors; but my inclinations have been constant- 
 ly thwarted." And, finally, during the last days of 
 his life, he was continually repeating to his friends, 
 that the cardinalship would be the death of him ; that 
 he could not reconcile himself to an elevation so con- 
 trary to his tastes; and he mourned it deeply. 
 
 These feelings of humility imparted a truly apos- 
 
316 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 tolical simplicity to his manners and deportment. 
 Whatever was most simple, whether in dress, lodg- 
 ing, or food, was always most to his taste. A small 
 table and a chair constituted all the furniture of his 
 private apartment ; a cot bedstead, covered with a 
 thin mattress, was his couch ; he chose for himself 
 the smallest, most retired, and least pleasant cham- 
 ber, leaving for the use of strangers the larger and 
 more commodious rooms in his palace. Being asked 
 one day, by a friend who was going over the pal- 
 ace, whether a large apartment containing an ele- 
 gant bed was his sleeping room ; " No," he replied, 
 smiling, " this is the chamber and bed of the Arch- 
 bishops of Bordeaux ; little Cheverus has his cham- 
 ber and bed elsewhere." He had neither horses 
 nor carriage, and appeared in the street on foot, 
 sometimes even in spite of the rain, and commonly 
 without any attendant. When he was made Cardi- 
 nal, he was urged to purchase a carriage ; he yield- 
 ed to these entreaties, but would have neither horses 
 nor equipage. He was repeatedly importuned on the 
 Subject, and propriety and station were insisted upon 
 as reasons for his compliance ; still he refused. At 
 length, one day, it was thought he was persuaded ; 
 he had consented, although with reluctance ; and, as 
 it was apprehended that longer reflection would in- 
 duce him to recall a consent which was almost forced 
 from him, the horses and the equipage were to be 
 purchased that very day. But, lo ! a crowd of men- 
 
HIS DISREGARD OF FORM AND CEREMONY. 317 
 
 dicants appeared at the gate of the palace ; at this 
 sight his heart was moved, his soul filled with pity, 
 and he could not endure the thought of spending on 
 ignoble animals the money needed by the poor ; and, 
 immediately distributing abundant alms among these 
 unfortunate people, he declared that he would never 
 again hear a word about purchasing horses or equi- 
 page. 
 
 He had only two servants, one for the kitchen, and 
 another to attend him in his chamber and at table. 
 "This man," said he, laughing, "is called my valet 
 de chambre ; but he has never served me in that ca- 
 pacity ; he has never even seen me, except when I 
 was completely dressed." He did not call upon 
 his servants except when it was unavoidable ; and 
 his principle was to do every thing he could for 
 himself ; " It is the way," said he, " to be always 
 served to one's mind." Hence, he was not above 
 getting wood himself to put upon the fire, or going 
 to the kitchen to give notice of the number of guests 
 invited, or to ask for any thing that he wanted. 
 When any one wished to speak with him, there were 
 no hours of audience to be observed, no lackeys to in- 
 troduce, no waiting in an antechamber, unless, at the 
 moment, he was engaged with some other person, and 
 then he put an end to the conversation as soon as pos- 
 sible, that he might keep no one waiting. People 
 went to his house as children go to that of a father, 
 at all hours and without ceremony. In his pastoral 
 27* 
 
318 LIFE OP CARDINAL CIIEVERUS. 
 
 circuits, it made no difference to him how he trav- 
 elled ; in the plainest carriage, by steamboats, on 
 horseback, or even in a public coach ; in which last, 
 he took the whole carriage for himself and those who 
 accompanied him. During the time he passed at 
 Paris in attendance on the Chamber of Peers, he 
 went to confess in the chapel, and at the confessional 
 of the grand-confessor, among the rest of the faithful ; 
 so utterly averse was he to distinction, so sincerely 
 attached to a simple and humble mode of life. 
 
 Let it not be thought, that so much simplicity di- 
 minished, in the least, the consideration and reverence 
 due to his character. On the contrary, there never 
 was a person more honored and respected. One felt, 
 in approaching him, and especially in listening to him, 
 that his lowliness was the fruit of virtue, and not of 
 meanness of spirit. His language, although simple, 
 was so elevated and refined, and the politeness of his 
 manners, his exquisite taste, the perfect tact with which 
 he knew how to do and say to every one just what 
 was proper, so clearly showed him to be a superior 
 man, that he was never approached but with a sort 
 of timid respect. Even his most intimate and confi- 
 dential friends experienced this feeling ; and his man- 
 ners, always dignified without ceasing to be simple, 
 inspired all with such reverence that no one ever 
 thought of being familiar with him. His simplicity, 
 by exhibiting him exactly as he was, divested of all 
 the trappings of grandeur, made him appear only the 
 
HIS SIMPLICITY THAT OF A NOBLE MIND. 319 
 
 more noble and great. It was to no purpose to scru- 
 tinize him closely ; he betrayed none of those defects 
 which so often dishonor high station, and render it 
 ridiculous or contemptible ; no pretension, no littleness, 
 no effeminacy. He was surrounded by no court of 
 flattering and privileged favorites. He never spoke 
 an idle word, nor indulged in any of those low pleas- 
 antries with which one sometimes permits himself to 
 enliven conversation, nor did he ever suffer them to 
 be uttered in his presence. He said, with Saint Paul ; 
 " Such things do not become the dignity of Chris- 
 tian conversation ; and, if such expressions are ex- 
 cusable in the vulgar, they must always sully the 
 sanctity of a priest's lips." Such was Cardinal Chev- 
 erus ; sufficient in himself to command the respect and 
 veneration of all ; having no need to exalt himself in 
 order to appear great, but simply to show himself 
 such as he was. But, independently of his personal 
 merit, his humility and his religion had taught him the 
 secret of securing respect and consideration. It was 
 greatly to respect others. He treated all with so 
 much deference, that they felt abashed by it, and 
 compelled, as it were, to keep pace with him in 
 attention ; from which he inferred this truth, which 
 experience confirms, that nothing so constrains men 
 to respect you, as to pay great respect to them. 
 
 With tastes so simple, and at the same time so 
 noble, it may easily be conceived, that the Cardinal 
 possessed the spirit of disinterestedness in large raeas- 
 
320 LIFE OP CARDINAL CflEVERUS. 
 
 ure. His austere virtue had few desires or wants; 
 his noble soul was raised far above low avarice. The 
 riches of the world were as nothing to him ; and he 
 always regarded whatever wealth he possessed, in 
 his various situations in life, as a deposit confided to 
 him by Heaven, to be distributed among the poor, 
 after having deducted what was absolutely necessary 
 for himself. The spirit of gain, especially in a priest, 
 who is a man of God, and who has placed his hopes 
 in heaven, he looked upon as base and unworthy, 
 and was shocked at it ; so that he never hoarded 
 wealth. To lay up nothing, that he might not risk 
 setting his heart upon his treasures ; and to owe noth- 
 ing, that he might be in no danger of injuring his 
 creditors, were principles on which he always acted. 
 Before he sailed for America, he had impoverished 
 himself by renouncing the whole of his patrimony. 
 In America he lived poor, denying himself, and de- 
 priving himself of every thing, for the relief of those 
 who were in want. To such an extreme did he 
 carry this, that some person took occasion one day 
 to represent to him, that he would not leave enough 
 even to bury him. To this difficulty, the charitable 
 prelate replied good-humoredly, " Ah ! as to that, I 
 feel no uneasiness ; when I am dead, I shall become 
 such a nuisance to those about me, that they will 
 be forced to inter me gratuitously, and even to pay 
 something, if need be, to get rid of my poor corpse." 
 When he was about returning to France, he wished to 
 
HIS DISINTERESTEDNESS. 321 
 
 leave America as he had gone to it, a poor man ; 
 giving up even his hbrary, a possession to which men 
 of letters attach so high a value, and from which they 
 part with most reluctance. At Bordeaux, he gave 
 away as fast as he received, never wishing the in- 
 come of one year to meet that of the next. He said ; 
 " It would be distrusting Providence, and this distrust 
 would be more culpable in nie than in another, since, 
 in the various vicissitudes of my life, Providence has 
 never failed me ; it has furnished me every day with 
 all that was necessary, and often with a superfluity." 
 For this reason, he would not hear of laying up any 
 thing for the future ; and his steward, foreseeing some 
 difficulty in meeting his expenses, was obliged to 
 conceal from him the real state of his finances. One 
 day he received a legacy of twenty thousand francs, 
 (four thousand dollars) ; an hour afterwards he had 
 none of it remaining ; he had already expended it all 
 for some charitable purpose. But his disinterested- 
 ness did not appear merely in giving away all that 
 he possessed ; it was displayed still more remarkably 
 in the manner in which he bore the losses he met 
 with. When the revolution of July deprived him of 
 twenty-two thousand livres of his income, it did not 
 appear to trouble him for a single instant. To those 
 who condoled with him, he replied with good-natured 
 playfulness, and said that he was still a great deal 
 too rich ; that in reality he had lost nothing, but that 
 the poor, who alone had lost these twenty-two 
 
322 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 thousand livres a year, were the only persons to 
 be pitied. When, in the winter of 1835, he was 
 informed that the frost had just destroyed all his 
 vines, and that the damage would amount to many 
 thousand francs, he answered, with his accustomed 
 cheerfulness; ^'So much the better; it is far better 
 that this misfortune should have fallen upon me, than 
 on some poor proprietors or farmers, who depend 
 upon the annual profits of their lands for support." 
 And not a shadow of concern appeared on his coun- 
 tenance, or in any thing he said. 
 
 How, indeed, could this distinguished Cardinal have 
 set a high value on earthly riches, when he carried 
 his evangelical indifference to them so far as to sub- 
 ject his body to the severest mortifications ? He felt 
 a sovereign contempt for all those luxuries which 
 pamper the body and minister to its indulgence, in 
 respect to lodging, raiment, food, and his whole mode 
 of life. Extremely self-denying, he studied every 
 winter in a room without a fire, excepting the two 
 last years of his life ; washed his feet, head, and 
 hands in cold water every morning, even in the se- 
 verest weather; and cheerfully braved the frosts of 
 winter and the heats of summer, in his pastoral cir- 
 cuits. He imposed upon himself few penances that 
 would be likely to attract notice ; but he submitted 
 willingly and without ever complaining, without even 
 mentioning them, to every inconvenience, constraint, 
 or privation, which he was called to bear. Thus, he 
 
HIS SPIRIT OP SUBMISSION. 323 
 
 endured for a long time the annoyance of insects* 
 with which his chamber was overrun, without ever 
 speaking of them to any one ; and this severe 
 penance, to which he had submitted, was not dis- 
 covered until the chamber was inspected and clean- 
 ed, while he was absent on a visitation of his 
 diocese. He made but one meal a day ; taking 
 nothing ordinarily before noon, and hardly any thing 
 at night; and besides, as he did the honors of his 
 table himself at dinner, he ate but little, being wholly 
 taken up in helping his guests, and seeing that no 
 one wanted any thing. His body was accustomed to 
 every privation, as well as to every suffering ; so that 
 he indulged in none of those habits of which so many 
 men are the slaves, and of which they must continue 
 the slaves when they have once contracted them, at 
 the risk of endangering their health. In order to 
 encourage himself and others to be patient under 
 suffering, he recommended that "we should always 
 look at those beneath us, and see the many unfor- 
 tunate beings to whom our situation," he said, " would 
 be a happy one ; then, instead of complaining, we 
 should bless Providence, which, notwithstanding all 
 it appoints us to suffer, still treats us much more 
 kindly than so many others." Mortification of the 
 body, however, seemed to him a small thing, and 
 of easy practice; the mortification he valued con- 
 sisted in exemplifying in one's own life what the 
 
 * Punaises. 
 
324 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Aposlle says of the Saviour ; " Christ did not please 
 himself: Christus non sibi placuit.^'* '* This," said 
 he, ^' is the seal of true virtue." And by this sign 
 might the virtue of the Cardinal be recognised; he 
 never seemed to have any will of his own, with re- 
 gard to any thing which came within the province of 
 charity, kindness, and condescension. Truly the 
 servant of all, like the apostle Paul, he could re- 
 fuse nothing which it was possible for him to grant, 
 and was ever ready to yield to every wish of his neigh- 
 bour. He often felt reluctance, weariness, and aver- 
 sion, and foresaw, in a compliance with the demands 
 made upon him, much interruption, inconvenience, 
 and fatigue; but personal considerations had no weight 
 with him ; he did not give them a moment's thought, 
 and went wherever his presence or his ministry was 
 desired. Sometimes these demands were so incessant 
 and importunate, that they would have overwhelmed 
 any other person ; but the Cardinal always preserved 
 his equanimity, by giving up entirely his own will ; 
 preaching even two and three times a day, rather 
 than give a refusal, and suffering himself to be in- 
 terrupted in his room, from morning till night, by 
 continual and often tedious visits, rather than yield 
 to the natural desire of living in retirement and quiet, 
 at least for a few moments. When he was asked 
 what hour would be most convenient to him for any 
 ceremony, he always replied, " the hour most con- 
 
 * Rom. XV. 3. 
 
HIS TOLERANCE. 325 
 
 venient to me, is that which best suits others.'' 
 When some person expressed his pity for him, at 
 the close of a day in which he had not had a mo- 
 ment to himself, " Providence has done well," he 
 cheerfully replied ; *' it has appropriated every mo- 
 ment ; if it had left any at my own disposal, perhaps 
 I should have misspent them." But the Cardinal not 
 only sacrificed his own will in this manner to other 
 men ; he held it continually submissive to every event. 
 Amid the various difficulties which must be encountered 
 in life, he was always resigned, meek, and uncomplain- 
 ing ; and when he saw people give themselves up to 
 anxiety, vexation, or ill-humor, he said mildly, " Why 
 torment and fret yourself in this way ? Nothing will 
 happen except what God wills." 
 
 The Cardinal was as indulgent, liberal, and kind 
 to all others, as he was severe towards himself. He 
 laid it down as a principle, that we must not expect 
 to live with angels upon earth, but with men, who 
 all have their defects, and that religion consists in 
 bearing with them in a spirit of charity. Thus, 
 when he found a person smitten with admiration and 
 affection for another with whom he was destined to 
 live, at their first interview, and declaring him an angel, 
 "So much the worse," he said; " this will not last; 
 the angel will show himself mortal, and admiration, 
 thus disappointed, will change perhaps into enmity. 
 Those alone live happily with their neighbours, who 
 calculate beforehand on some imperfections to be 
 28 
 
326 l^IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 borne with." Actuated by this principle, he treated 
 all men, without distinction, with the same charity, 
 lamented their faults or their errors, but did not make 
 these an excuse for unkindness to any ; and, far from 
 looking with the eye of hatred or ill-will on those 
 whose conduct, faith, or opinions were erroneous, he 
 loved them tenderly, since they did not cease on 
 that account, he said, to be his brethren, included in 
 the comprehensive law of charity. He even loved 
 them, in some respects, more tenderly than others ; 
 either because they inspired him with the interest 
 which misfortune always awakens, — for there is no 
 greater misfortune in the world than to do or to think 
 wrong, — or because " the only means of reclaiming 
 them," he said, " is to show them that we dearly 
 love them ; if they suspect us of prejudice or enmity, 
 we close the avenue of repentance against them ; the 
 door of their hearts will never be opened to us." 
 Neither could he comprehend that charity which is 
 confined to the circle of good men, or to those who 
 agree with us in opinion, and regards all others only 
 with coldness and indifference, if not with hatred. 
 "If it were allowable," he said, "not to love a man 
 because he is mistaken, or does not see things as we 
 do, charity would be banished from the earth ; for 
 men will cease to be mistaken only in heaven." He 
 resisted with energy the common prejudice, that trans- 
 forms into wicked and malevolent men all who differ 
 from us in religion or pohtics. He said, that "only 
 
HIS FIRMNESS. 327 
 
 profound ignorance of men and of the world could 
 entertain such a prejudice. For my own part," he 
 added, " I have met with good, charitable, obliging, 
 and amiable men in all religious sects and in every 
 political party." And he earnestly desired that men 
 might become convinced of this truth, to the end that 
 difference of belief or opinion might cease to be an 
 occasion of hatred among them, and an obstacle to 
 charity and a union of heart. 
 
 But, although the Cardinal was thus indulgent to- 
 wards individuals, he was inflexibly firm in regard to 
 doctrine, and whatever duty enjoins. Tenacious of 
 the rules of morality, as well as the dogmas of 
 faith, he would not countenance laxity in respect 
 to the former, any more than errors in the lat- 
 ter. Protestants, or persons whose marriage had not 
 received the sanction of the church, repeatedly re- 
 quested him to allow them to stand sponsors to 
 children in baptism. He invariably refused, but 
 always, however, with the greatest possible courtesy, 
 kindness, and amenity. He was repeatedly solicited 
 to grant ecclesiastical burial to persons who had fall- 
 en in a duel, had committed suicide, or had died 
 refusing the ministrations of a priest ; and such solici- 
 tations were always in vain.^ One day a parish 
 deputation came to complain to him that ecclesias- 
 tical burial had been refused in the case of a rich 
 
 * Rules on all these points were laid down by the Car- 
 dinal, in the statutes which he gave his clergy. 
 
328 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 man, who never during his life would have his mar- 
 riage sanctioned by the church, nor be attended by 
 a priest at his death; and the speaker allowed him- 
 self, on this occasion, to talk about the intolerance 
 of the curate. "Intolerance!" replied the Cardinal, 
 with energy ; " the intolerance is all on your side. 
 You will not permit a priest to fulfil his duty, and 
 would force him to recognise as a Catholic a man 
 whose life and death have been anti-catholic." 
 Ashamed to find themselves guilty of the fault which 
 they had laid to the charge of their pastor, these 
 deputies withdrew in silence, without saying another 
 word. Thus did Cardinal Cheverus, although so 
 liberal towards men, always adhere undeviatingly to 
 the rules of duty ; and religion knows no other tol- 
 erance. Any other, for which the world would give 
 the Cardinal credit, would be a stain on his mem- 
 ory, a misrepresentation of his real sentiments. 
 
 This enlightened tolerance had its source in an 
 inexhaustible fund of gentleness, the fruit of his re- 
 ligion and piety. He never manifested those varia- 
 tions of humor, those bursts of temper, or that hasty 
 pettishness of an irritable, discontented, or melancholy 
 spirit, in which so many indulge ; nor employed that 
 severity of rebuke which troubles or provokes rather 
 than corrects, and proclaims the man excited by ill- 
 humor, rather than the minister inspired by charity. 
 The calmness and benignity of his soul imparted a 
 tranquil and touching character to his manners and 
 
HIS MILDNESS. 329 
 
 whole deportment, and, in spite of the troubles of ev- 
 ery kind which disturbed his life, his gentleness was 
 ever the same, he always spoke kindly and courteously. 
 If he had any thing to do with untractable and con- 
 tentious spirits, he mildly stated what he had to say 
 10 them, then allowed them to talk on, answering them 
 only by silence, or making some pleasant remark cal- 
 culated to turn the conversation. It was an invari- 
 able rule with him to have no altercation or dispute 
 with any one whatever. " To dispute or contend," 
 said he, " requires two, and I will be no one's sec- 
 ond in such a cause. Si quis videtur contentiosus 
 esse,nos talem consuetudinem non habemus."* He re- 
 commended nothing so strongly to his priests as this 
 mildness in all their intercourse with their fellow-men. 
 *• Fortiter in re," he said to them, " suaviter in mo- 
 do : Adhere firmly to rules and principles ; but, in 
 their application, use the greatest gentleness and cir- 
 cumspection." And he cited the example of Saint 
 John the Baptist, who had to deal with the barbar- 
 ous Herod, the most ferocious of men and of tyrants ; 
 yet who, by his gentleness, succeeded in gaining such 
 an influence over him, that he induced him to do 
 much good. '^ Eo audiio,^^ says the Gospel, " Herodes 
 multafaciebatJ'f By this attractive gentleness Cardi- 
 nal Cheverus won the hearts of all men. In the 
 course of forty years, he had occasion to treat with 
 
 *lCor. xi. 16. tMarkvi.20. 
 
 28* 
 
330 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 many different civil authorities at Boston, Montauban, 
 and Bordeaux ; yet no one was ever known to have 
 resisted the winning and persuasive power of his mild 
 and dignified address. All were subdued by the in- 
 fluence of his gentle spirit ; all considered it a duty 
 to oblige him, a crime to oppose him, a happiness to 
 second his views and anticipate his desires. Not that 
 he ever yielded any thing, where duty required him 
 to be firm ; his meekness was not timidity. '* My 
 friend," said he to one of his priests, about the time 
 of the revolution of July, " I confessed my faith in 
 my youth at the peril of my life ; and, in spite of my 
 age, I still feel the same blood flowing in my veins 
 as then ; rather than be false to any duty, I could still, 
 by the grace of God, submit to exile or death." The 
 Cardinal knew how to say, when it was necessary, 
 *'•' It is not lawful, JS'on licet; " * but he said it without 
 harshness, and with such noble frankness, that his re- 
 fusal was always taken in good part; so that in truth 
 every one seemed to submit to his authority. " Every- 
 body humors me," said he, " I know not why." The 
 modest Cardinal would not see that it was his mild- 
 ness, his kindness, which had gained him the hearts 
 and given him power over all men. His gentleness 
 was not confined to man alone ; it extend-ed even 
 to the brute creation ; he could not bear to see them 
 ireated cruelly, or beaten unnecessarily or severely ; 
 
 * Matt. xiv. 4. 
 
HIS AVOIDANCE OF EVIL-SPEAKING. 331 
 
 he said it was a sign of a bad heart and savage dis- 
 position, and a characteristic of the wicked man in the 
 judgment of the Holy Spirit himself, who says that 
 " The just regardeth the lives of his beasts ; but the 
 bowels of the wicked are cruel : Novit Justus jumen- 
 torum suorum animas, viscera autem impiorum crude- 
 lia.''* Neither did he disdain occasionally to imi- 
 tate, with engaging kindness, the Apostle John, caress- 
 ing his partridge as an innocent relaxation ; and we 
 shall be pardoned for relating in this place, that, when 
 he was in America, the kind and gentle manner, in 
 which he always treated the horse which was loaned 
 him to visit the sick, had so strongly attached the ani- 
 mal to him, that, as far as he could see him, he would 
 run to meet him ; and, although rather unmanageable 
 with others, was, under his hands, docile as a lamb, 
 obeying his slightest signal. 
 
 To such perfect gentleness the Cardinal added 
 the greatest charity. No detraction was ever heard to 
 pass his lips ; and if any persons so far forgot themselves 
 as to speak evil of their neighbour in his presence, 
 he adroitly changed the conversation ; or, if he could 
 do it, spoke openly in defence of the absent person, 
 and told all the good he knew of him. Least of all 
 could he bear that evil should be spoken of those 
 whom death had removed from the world. " De 
 mortuis nisi bonum : Let nothing but good be spoken 
 
 * Prov. xii. 10. 
 
332 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 of the dead," was a maxim which he loved to call to 
 mind J and from which he never departed. Far from 
 speaking evil of his fellow-men, he even feared to 
 think ill of them ; and when the duties of his situation 
 obliged him to listen to unfavorable reports of any one, 
 he suspended his judgment for a long time, and very 
 reluctantly made up his mind to admit their truth, and 
 nothing short of the clearest proof could destroy his 
 favorable opinion of the individual in question ; for his 
 charitable good-will always induced him to suppose 
 that others possessed every virtue which he loved and 
 cherished in his own heart. In the bons-mots and 
 sportive sallies with which he enlivened his conversa- 
 tion, he never suffered a word to escape him which 
 could hurt the feelings of any, wound the sensitive, 
 or provoke the irritable. He never gave others, rarely 
 even his own servants, any trouble which he could 
 spare them. He was fearful of giving the least of- 
 fence to his fellow-men, and gladly embraced every 
 opportunity of doing a kindness or rendering a service. 
 " What a happiness," said he, " to be the means of 
 bestowing upon our brethren a moment's enjoyment ! 
 What a delight to have the power of making a single 
 heart happy ! " Amiable, tender, and charitable to- 
 wards all, the Cardinal was especially so to those who 
 lived with him, or who served him ; to strangers, to 
 the afflicted, the sick, the aged, the poor, and, in gen- 
 eral, to all the children of infirmity or sufiering. 
 
HIS MANNERS IN FAMILIAR INTERCOURSE. 333 
 
 Nothing can be imagined more delightful and in- 
 teresting, more simple and dignified, than the character 
 of the Cardinal's intimate and familiar intercourse. To 
 render all about him happy was his constant aim and 
 care ; and he has been seen to shed tears of joy and 
 tenderness, when his efforts were successful. For 
 this reason he wished his guests to consider tiiemselves 
 perfectly at home, and frankly ask for whatever they 
 desired ; and was eager to anticipate their requests 
 when he could foresee their wishes. Above all, as 
 nothing interferes more with the happiness of life than 
 restraint and subjection, he wished every one in his 
 house to feel perfectly at liberty, free from the tram- 
 mels of ceremony and etiquette, and from all con- 
 straint ; but on the condition, however, of not putting 
 any constraint upon others. His maxim was, Be 
 perfectly at ease, and leave others equally so. For 
 this reason he did not require any one to remain in his 
 company, because, with prayer and study, he never 
 felt the want of a companion ; but, although he did 
 not exact this, his society was sought as the most pre- 
 cious advantage of living in the same house with 
 so agreeable a prelate. Every day, after the even- 
 ing repast, his friends had the pleasure of enjoying 
 it at leisure. At these hours they formed a sort of 
 family party, rendered truly delightful by the gen- 
 tleness, simplicity, the entire freedom, and, at the 
 same time, the dignity and elevation of sentiment, 
 which prevailed. Here, especially, the Cardinal ap- 
 
334 LIFE OF CARDL^AL CHEVERUS. 
 
 peared as he was, good and amiable, simple and 
 great ; here, also, he expressed openly the utter con- 
 tempt in which he held the honors and dignities, 
 the riches and pleasures, of the world ; and here he 
 gracefully related anecdotes of his own life ; or, with 
 nice discrimination, gave his opinion of past events, or 
 the occurrences of the day. 
 
 But the happiness of living with the Cardinal was 
 not confined to those who met around his board ; he 
 wished his servants also to be happy in serving him. 
 " Their condition," said he, " is in itself humiliating, 
 and sometimes painful ; it is the duty of masters to 
 ameliorate it as much as possible." And never had 
 servants a better master. He always spoke to thera 
 with kindness, never permitting a harsh word to es- 
 cape him, or assuming the least appearance of pride 
 or superiority. If they did wrong, he did not notice 
 it ; or, if the case deserved a reprimand, he gave it 
 with the kindness of a father, rather than the severity 
 of a master. To say nothing of their high wages, to 
 which he often added special presents, they lived as 
 well as he did himself, and were free to use the wine 
 with which his own table was supplied. If they fell 
 sick, he went to see them, sent for a physician, and 
 had them taken care of as if they were his chil- 
 dren ; if he perceived that they desired any thing, 
 which timidity prevented their asking of him, he 
 offered it to them himself; *' because," said he, " in 
 
HIS TREATMENT OF STRANGERS. 335 
 
 the house of an archbishop, everybody ought to be 
 happy and contented." 
 
 The same kindness, which the Cardinal manifested 
 to those who lived with him, he extended to others. 
 Not only all the priests of his diocese, but all other 
 priests, and all laymen with whom he was acquainted 
 or who were recommended to him, of whatever coun- 
 try they might be, were at their first visit invited to his 
 table, not once only, but for the whole time they 
 should remain at Bordeaux. And if it happened that 
 they came often, and he learned that it was as much 
 on account of their straitened circumstances as to en- 
 joy the honor of his society, he rejoiced in the oppor- 
 tunity thus afforded him, of delicately bestowing relief, 
 without mortification to their feelings. He frequently 
 even invited them to stay at the palace, and this kind 
 of hospitality was extended to great numbers, many 
 of whom abused it without his making any complaint. 
 He excused the strangest breaches of propriety, for- 
 bidding any one to mention them to those who had 
 been guilty of them, and desired the wishes of all to 
 be promptly attended to. Every year, during Lent, 
 he lodged at his palace those who preached at the 
 cathedral, and had whatever they wished provided for 
 their meals, and at whatever hour they pleased. It 
 was his delight thus to share his table and his palace. 
 " Of all the virtues which Saint Paul requires in a 
 bishop," said he, "I have but one, that of being hos- 
 
336 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 pitable ; Oportet episcopum esse hospitalem ;*' I ought 
 at least to practise that, whenever 1 can find oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 If he was thus kind towards strangers, who had no 
 particular claim upon his charity, how much more so 
 must he have been to the afflicted, who, from the mere 
 circumstance of their misfortunes, were so hkely to in- 
 terest a lender and susceptible heart like his ! He 
 was not one of those men who look with selfish insen- 
 sibility on the misfortunes or afflictions of others ; his 
 tenderness felt for every calamity, and his compassion 
 interested him in the concerns of his fellow-men as if 
 they were his own, to such a degree, that he was as 
 much affected by the sorrows and distresses of others, 
 as if he had experienced th^m himself; and truly 
 might he say with the apostle: " Who is weak, and I 
 am not weak ? Q^uis infirmatur et ego non in- 
 Jirmor 1 " To be in affliction was a sure title to his 
 tenderest interest, his most delicate attentions, his most 
 assiduous kindness. His ear was ever ready to listen 
 to the tale of grief, and his heart to sympathize in 
 it ; such relations often moved him to tears, and some- 
 times even affected him so deeply that he could 
 hardly taste of food ; and he left no means untried to 
 administer comfort to the spirit smitten by the stroke 
 of adversity. This tender and compassionate father 
 regarded whatever alleviation of the misery of others 
 
 * Tit. i. 7, 8. 
 
HIS KINDNESS TO THE AFFLICTED. 337 
 
 he could effect, as so much added to the happiness of 
 his own life. People were sometimes surprised to 
 see those, who had previously had no connexion with 
 him, admitted all at once to his tenderest intimacy ; 
 they could not imagine the reason, and inquired how 
 it was ; and it always appeared, upon investigation, 
 that some calamity had befallen these persons; they 
 had lost a beloved child, a wife, or a father ; and the 
 good Cardinal had offered them, as some consolation, 
 next to God and the cross, his affectionate heart, his 
 intimacy, and a welcome to his table and his palace. 
 Such was the origin of all the particular intimacies 
 which the Cardinal formed at Bordeaux ; and such 
 was the reason of his frequent intercourse with certain 
 families. Seeing them in affliction, he listened every 
 day, if necessary, to the story of their sorrows, or went 
 himself daily to visit them, as long as he thought it of 
 service to them ; or, at least, persuaded the afflicted 
 individual to come and unburden his heart to him, 
 whenever its griefs were too heavy to be borne. He 
 often had only time to say a single word ; but this 
 word, spoken kindly, and proceeding from the heart, 
 was as balm to the wound. The kind pastor even 
 seemed to reproach himself for all the troubles which 
 took place in his diocese, merely because he might 
 have prevented them, had he known of them. Thus, 
 when, on his return from a pastoral visitation, at the 
 close of July, 1830, he learned the shameful manner 
 in which the Viscount de Curzay, prefect of Bordeaux, 
 29 
 
338 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 had been treated, — a seditious populace, blinded by 
 rage, having repaired to his house, inflicted upon him 
 blows and insults, and pursued him with drawn swords, 
 — he seemed deeply afllicted at the news. "Ah ! why 
 was not I here 1 " he exclaimed ; " I would have flown 
 to the spot, and protected the prefect with my own 
 body ; I would have borne him away in my arms, had 
 it been necessary ; and I am confident that the people 
 of Bordeaux, even in the height of their madness, 
 would have respected me." In short, the mere 
 thought of the woes of his fellow-creatures was dis- 
 tressing to his heart; he could not think, without 
 pain, of the many unhappy sufferers on the face of 
 the earth, whom revolutions or civil wars overwhelm 
 with countless evils. Still less could he think, with- 
 out anguish, on the dreadful sufferings of the con- 
 demned in another hfe ; and, being once requested to 
 preach upon future punishment, he was so dismayed at 
 the thought of his wretched fellow-creatures, that sobs 
 choked his voice, he was unable to proceed, and, at the 
 expiration of five minutes, left the pulpit in tears. 
 
 One who felt the afflictions and misfortunes of others 
 so keenly, could not but possess a heart overflowing 
 with charity towards his sick brethren. He did not 
 confine himself to visiting them often, in hospitals and 
 private houses, with an interest and kindness which 
 remind us of Jesus Christ, at the bed-side of Saint 
 Peter's wife's mother. He took every opportunity to 
 commend the care of the sick, as one of the most 
 
HIS KINDNESS TO THE SICK. 339 
 
 excellent acts of Christian charity, and one of the 
 most pleasing in the sight of God. He used to say- 
 that the richest grace was bestowed upon it ; and, 
 that he might have part himself in this grace, he 
 always, both in America and France, kept in his 
 house an invalid domestic, on whom he lavished 
 all the attentions which his condition demanded, 
 and of whom he required no services but such as 
 he chose to render. " This," said he, " draws down 
 the blessings of God upon a house." At Bordeaux 
 he did still more, he always had with him a sick or 
 infirm priest, and sometimes even two ; and, in order 
 that they might continue to receive all the little 
 attentions to which they had been accustomed, and 
 that every thing might go on in the way to which 
 they were used, he at the same time, with a thought- 
 ful benevolence well worthy of notice, took the per- 
 son who had been in the habit of attending them, 
 and would not allow any occupation to be assigned 
 him, that could interfere with this service. 
 
 The infirmities of old age excited the particular 
 interest of the Cardinal. He loved to give his arm 
 to old men to sustain their tottering steps, to place 
 them beside him at table, to attend to their minutest 
 wants, to be able to do or say something which 
 should give them pleasure ; following, in this, the di- 
 rection of the Holy Spirit, which commands respect 
 to the hoary head ; Coram cano capite consurge ; * but 
 
 * Lev. xix. 32. 
 
340 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 listening, at the same time, to his own goodness of 
 heart, which delighted, according to his own expres- 
 sion, to gladden the last moments of an existence 
 which was drawing to a close, and to gild the horizon 
 of life for those who were soon to leave it. " Alas 1 " 
 said he, " they have but a few more days to live, 
 let us procure them as much innocent enjoyment as 
 possible." The Cardinal regarded this respect for 
 the aged, and these delicate endeavours to oblige 
 them, as a sure indication of genuine virtue; and 
 when he learned that any young priests, who were 
 associated with one of the elders of the sanctuary, paid 
 him all possible deference, and concealed from him, 
 in a manner, the knowledge of his failing strength 
 and faculties, by making themselves of as little im- 
 portance as possible, by consulting him upon every 
 occasion, and, with amiable address, making him be- 
 lieve that he still did all the duties of the parish, that 
 he was the head to direct, and they were only the 
 bands to execute ; he wished for no further tokens 
 of their excellence. " I know these priests," said 
 he, " by this single trait ; their virtue has the true 
 stamp ; " and, from that time, he gave them his 
 highest esteem, his entire confidence, which he gladly 
 availed himself of every opportunity to manifest in the 
 most striking manner. 
 
 After what we have thus far seen, the charity of Car- 
 dinal Cheverus to the poor may be more easily im- 
 agined than described. He always 'received thera 
 
HIS KINDNESS TO THE POOR. 341 
 
 with kindness, and treated them with esteem and 
 respect ; regarding them as brethren in Jesus Christ, 
 children of God, and joint heirs of heaven. That 
 he might aid them, he denied himself; hardly al- 
 lowing himself the necessaries of hfe. He never in- 
 dulged in any expense to gratify mere taste or fancy ; 
 he never purchased for himself any thing costly; 
 and, for many years, he even wore, on week days, a 
 cassock so old and threadbare, that with the worldly- 
 minded it would hardly pass for decent ; so fearful 
 was he of encroaching upon the funds of the poor. 
 He even seemed to grudge himself food, when he 
 thought of their wants ; and once, when a magnifi- 
 cent breakfast had been prepared for him, at the 
 house of some friends with whom he was on suffi- 
 ciently intimate terms to take such a liberty, he sent 
 it all to the poor, not even tasting it himself. On 
 another occasion, when he was going to dine alone 
 at his palace in Bordeaux, having learned that a 
 family was very destitute, he sent them the dinner 
 which had been prepared for him, reserving for him- 
 self no more than was absolutely necessary. Wednes- 
 day and Friday of each week, he made a general 
 distribution of alms ; and, that this might be done 
 with greater discrimination, and what was bestowed be 
 proportioned to the necessities of all, one of his priests 
 was commissioned to obtain, from the curate of each 
 parish, exact information respecting the condition of 
 every individual. Besides these regular charities, he 
 29* 
 
342 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 gave to all the poor who came in his way, and es- 
 pecially to that class of the indigent which is the 
 more to be pitied because its misery is unknown, 
 the modest poor, who came to open their hearts to 
 him, as to a tender father, and confide to him their 
 troubles and distress. Almost every day, among the 
 numerous visits he received, were many of this de- 
 scription ; and the demand upon his charity from this 
 source was the greater, since the rank and position of 
 these persons was such as to make the donor ashamed 
 to offer, and the petitioner to accept, a small sum. He 
 contributed to every charitable object of individuals, 
 and to every benevolent design of the civil administra- 
 tion ; and, in both these cases, he always gave consid- 
 erable sums. Sometimes he went so far as to pay, from 
 his own funds, notes which the signers could not honor, 
 and thus saved them from the disgrace of a prosecution. 
 In short, he gave all that he had, and still seemed 
 to reproach himself for not giving enough ; " Be- 
 cause," said he, " when the poor look at this beau- 
 tiful palace, they imagine that a man living in so fine 
 a house must have the means of giving them more 
 than I do." But he had the consolation of finding 
 still something to give, when his own resources were 
 exhausted ; for the rich sometimes liked to make him 
 the depositary and distributer of their alms, persuad- 
 ed that this was the sweetest pleasure they could 
 procure for him ; and that, moreover, by passing 
 through so pure a channel, and being distributed by 
 
HIS ZEAL FOR THE SALVATION OF SOULS. 343 
 
 SO judicious a hand, their alms would be more ac- 
 ceptable to God, and more justly apportioned to those 
 who were most in need. 
 
 Yet with whatever zeal Cardinal Cheverus endeav- 
 oured to relieve the suffering body, the salvation of 
 souls exposed to eternal destruction awakened a still 
 deeper solicitude. From his youth, his heart had 
 burned with that sacred flame which impels a man 
 to devote his whole being, that he may guide his 
 fellow-men to happiness " in a better country." This 
 it was, which, among the various pursuits that soci- 
 ety presented to his choice, induced him to select 
 the ecclesiastical profession ; and this same sentiment 
 was, through the Whole course of his life, the mov- 
 ing principle of his soul, the centre of all his thoughts, 
 and the constant object of his efforts. From this he 
 derived that apostolical spirit which animated him ; 
 whether, when at Mayenne, in the critical times that 
 preceded the revolution, he exercised his ministry in 
 a manner advantageous to religion ; or when, in a 
 land of exile, he preferred the difficult and laborious 
 missions of America to the delights of a life of ease 
 and luxury in England ; or when, during twenty-seven 
 years passed in Boston, he constrained Protestants as 
 well as Catholics to admire his unwearied devoted- 
 ness and intrepid courage. Consecrating himself 
 wholly to the salvation of his brethren, he lived only 
 for them, and forgot himself, that he might think of 
 them alone. Distance, however great, did not arrest 
 
344 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 his zeal ; he would travel twenty or thirty leagues, and 
 sometimes more, to administer the sacraments to a 
 sick person, to reconcile a divided family, or instruct 
 an ignorant one. The most uncomfortable seasons 
 of the year, either on account of the severity of the 
 cold or the heat of the sun, did not discourage his 
 benevolence. He traversed the snows and ice of 
 winter, and exposed himself to the oppressive heats 
 of summer, for any of his beloved flock to whom his 
 ministrations could be necessary or beneficial. Dur- 
 ing that part of the year which he passed among the 
 Indians, he was obliged to endure privations of which 
 we with our civiUzed habits cannot conceive ; but all 
 that he suffered was in order to save souls, and this 
 consideration rendered every thing tolerable and even 
 pleasant. A sinner whom he had reconciled to God, 
 a dying man whom he had prepared to die happily, an 
 ignorant one whom he had instructed, a man dan- 
 gerous to society whom he had transformed into a 
 good man, made him forget all his fatigues. Having 
 returned to France, he continued to display a zeal 
 equal to every occasion. To preach wherever he 
 was invited, at Paris and Mayenne, as well as at 
 Montauban and Bordeaux ; to travel over every par- 
 ish of his diocese, confirming and preaching to the 
 faithful ; to be all things to all men, ever ready to 
 attend to those who requested his advice, and, at- 
 tracted by his goodness, desired to open to him their 
 
PRINCIPLES OF HIS EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION. 345 
 
 hearts; such was his whole hfe ; — that is to say, one 
 continual exercise of zeal. 
 
 In the various acts of his episcopal administration, 
 he was always guided by the purest zeal ; neither 
 patronage nor favor had any share in them ; so that 
 he could say, near the close of his life, '' I have no 
 fear that God will reproach me for having made a 
 single nomination from worldly motives ; I have never 
 sought any thing but the greatest good of the church." 
 Above all, he would never consent that women, what- 
 ever might be their merit, their birth, and their rep- 
 utation, should take upon themselves to recommend 
 or patronize his curates and priests ; he rejected with 
 unusual severity every proposal of this kind, de- 
 clared that it gave him offence, and considered it a 
 reason for excluding the priest so recommended, rather 
 than a claim to his favor. Before nominating to any 
 place, at least any situation of importance, he prayed, 
 took counsel, and deliberated, and then made the 
 appointment himself, uninfluenced by any other per- 
 son. " I shall answer for it to God," said he ; I ought 
 not, therefore, to throw the responsibility of it upon 
 any one else." If in these nominations he thought 
 it right to pay particular regard to the preferences 
 and dislikes of his priests, his conduct in this respect 
 was not influenced by any worldly considerations; he 
 acted thus only with a view to the greatest good ; 
 thoroughly convinced, as he often said, that what is 
 done with reluctance is never done well, and that a 
 
346 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 feeling of dissatisfaction chills zeal, and paralyzes the 
 discharge of duly. 
 
 But the preaching of Cardinal Cheverus was un- 
 doubtedly the most remarkable result of the zeal 
 which animated him. During the twenty-seven years 
 which he passed in America, he preached constantly 
 on Sundays and holydays ; and in France he neglect- 
 ed no opportunity of declaring the word of truth ; yet 
 he seldom did this without fatigue. His exalted views 
 of the sublime office of preaching the gospel, and his 
 respect for the word of God, would not suffer him to go 
 into the pulpit without preparation, at least as far as 
 it was in his power to make any ; and this preparation 
 always cost him some effort. He usually wrote out 
 the plan of his discourse, and noted down the leading 
 thoughts, and, after having made this outline, applied 
 his mind intently, till the very moment of delivery, to 
 the consideration of the subject on which he was to 
 speak, and the production of those deeply interesting 
 sermons, which were always hstened to with so much 
 pleasure. " People are very much mistaken in re- 
 gard to me," he said to his friends ; *' they imagine 
 that it is no trouble to me to preach, whereas noth- 
 ing in the world is more difficult for me. I never 
 enter the pulpit without experiencing beforehand an 
 uneasy sensation which disturbs my head, and, at the 
 time, a universal perturbation that exhausts me." 
 This account would be incredible, unless we had it 
 from the lips of the Cardinal himself j for he seemed 
 
CHARACTER OF HIS SERMONS. 347 
 
 to have every reason for feeling in the pulpit the 
 most fearless confidence. Well read in sacred and 
 profane antiquity, thoroughly acquainted with the hu- 
 man heart, with society and manners, he had, besides, 
 been long accustomed to the exercises of the pulpit, 
 and was gifted with animated and persuasive tones 
 which gave power and weight to his words, with a 
 clear and sonorous voice, a natural and dignified ac- 
 tion, an uncommon memory, a correct and discrim- 
 inating judgment, a brilliant and graceful imagination, 
 a pure taste, and a nice sense of propriety, which 
 enabled him to say, near the close of his life, that, 
 though he always spoke extempore, God had given 
 him grace never to say any thing in the pulpit, of 
 which he had reason to repent afterwards. 
 
 His sermons were no academic discourses, in which 
 all is polished and elaborate ; in which loftiness of style, 
 splendor of imagery, and a nice selection of thoughts 
 seem to challenge for the speaker the admiration of 
 his audience ; nor did he even ordinarily employ that 
 rhetorical pathos by which they are moved and car- . 
 ried away ; he never aimed at this sort of eloquence, 
 in which he would doubtless have succeeded as well 
 as many others have done, had he attempted it. 
 The kind of eloquence he adopted, thinking it most 
 useful to believers, most conformable to the spirit 
 of the gospel and the practice of antiquity, was 
 the mode of teaching pursued by the Fathers of the 
 church. Their instructions are not ambitious and 
 
348 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 formal orations, like those of Cicero and Demosthe- 
 nes, but the conversation of a father instructing his 
 children, telling them plainly what they ought to 
 believe and to do, exhorting them to virtue with un- 
 pretending simplicity, but with fervor and energy, 
 often even with a sublime eloquence, and the out- 
 pouring of a soul full of faith and love ; not afraid 
 sometimes to address them in impassioned language, 
 but always with grace and dignity. They are, in 
 short, the sermo of the Latins, the homilia of the 
 Greeks. To attain this object, the Cardinal sought 
 first to render his instructions clear. Varying his lan- 
 guage to suit the intelligence of his hearers, and 
 bringing the sublimest truths within the comprehen- 
 sion of the humblest minds, his arrangement, his rea- 
 soning, his thoughts, and words, were so perspicuous, 
 that even the most illiterate of the common people were 
 able to give a correct and minute account of the whole 
 sermon, as was often found to be the case. Some poor 
 servant-maids, being questioned about the Archbishop's 
 preaching, repeated not only the subject, but all the 
 leading ideas, while they could not understand a word 
 of most other sermons. This excellence, the highest 
 certainly in pulpit eloquence, was in accordance with 
 the principle held by the Cardinal, that, of all the 
 forms of composition, the sermon requires the greatest 
 perspicuity. It ought, he said, to be more clear than 
 the epistolary or even the colloquial style ; because, 
 in familiar conversation, one can ask an explanation 
 
HIS PERSPrCUITY IN PREACHING. 34^ 
 
 of what he does not understand ; in a letter, the 
 meaning of an obscure passage may be found out by 
 reading it over more attentively ; while the sermoa 
 must be comprehended at once, instantaneously as it 
 were, since custom and decorum forbid any one to 
 call upon the preacher for an explanation, or ask hina 
 to repeat what he has said, that he may be better 
 understood. The Cardinal, therefore, was studious 
 not to utter an expression, a word, but what was so 
 clear and intelligible as to be apprehended by all his 
 hearers. With views like these, it may be supposed, 
 that he could not tolerate in the pulpit that neologism 
 which, he said, would soon oblige the hearers to 
 carry a dictionary to church with tliem, in order to 
 understand the preacher. Still less did he like that 
 romantic style, which can say nothing with clearness 
 and simplicity ; which goes on without any connexion 
 of ideas, without logic, without argument, and with- 
 out proof; which is made up of vague plans, ambi- 
 tious thoughts, and rhetorical descriptions, and is full 
 of disorder and confusion ; whose object, in short, 
 seems to be, to seduce the imagination, by dazzling 
 it with a false splendor, to which every thing sub- 
 stantial is sacrificed, and which owes its success only 
 to the self-love of the people, who too often pro- 
 nounce admirable what they do not understand, pre- 
 cisely because they do not understand it, and because, 
 by seeming to penetrate this mysterious obscurity, 
 they have the appearance of rising above the vulgar. 
 30 
 
350 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 The Cardinal lamented this abuse, which, in our day, 
 threatens to usurp the pulpit; and which, if it spread, 
 will leave the people in profound ignorance both of 
 religion and our mysteries. He neglected no oppor- 
 tunity of warning the young preachers of his diocese 
 against this erroneous course, upon which they were 
 prone to enter, and setting before them the excel- 
 lence of a clear style of writing, intelligible to all, 
 but not, on that account, the less eloquent. 
 
 Next to clearness, the discourses of the Cardinal 
 were most distinguished for their appropriateness. 
 He had no stock of old sermons ready for all times 
 and places, as if hearers were everywhere equally 
 intelligent, and had the same w^ants. It seemed to 
 him, that there were shades of difference peculiar to 
 each region, period, and occasion, which required a 
 different language ; that the orator should not always 
 touch the same chords in the human heart, but should 
 be quick to perceive to what feelings he can appeal 
 with most effect ; and he thought that it was this 
 adaptation of instruction, this inspiration of the occa- 
 sion, which insured for a discourse interest, attention, 
 and success. During the twenty-seven years that he 
 preached in America every Sunday and holyday, he 
 never repeated the same sermon ; there was always 
 something new and to the purpose, suggested at one 
 time by the gospel for the day, or the festival of the 
 saint celebrated during the week ; at another, by 
 passing events, and sometimes even by the inclem- 
 
APPROPRIATENCSS OF HIS SERMONS. 351 
 
 ency of ibe season, as when, in a very severe winter, 
 he took for his text these words of the Canticle, 
 " Frost and cold, bless ye the Lord : Benedicite, 
 gelu et frigus, Domino^ Twenty-seven times he 
 pronounced a panegyric on Saint Patrick, the first 
 bishop and patron saint of Ireland ; and each time 
 gave it in a different form, adapted to different cir- 
 cumstances. In France he pursued the same course, 
 and the great charm of his manner of teaching 
 always lay in its appropriateness. If he was to 
 preach in behalf of some benevolent object, instead 
 of a vague discourse upon charity, he unfolded the 
 design of the institution in question, dwelt upon the 
 interest it ought to excite, and the motives for en- 
 couraging it ; and, in all he said, he kept this end 
 constantly in view. Thus, being called upon to speak 
 in behalf of the Maternal Society, whose object it is 
 to assist poor children born in lawful wedlock, he put 
 into the mouth of Religion these' words of Pharaoh's 
 daughter to the mother of Moses : " Take this child 
 and nurse him for me ; I will give thee thy wages.'' ^ 
 Or these, spoken by the angel to Joseph : " Take 
 the child and his mother.'' -f He then spoke of the 
 touching objects of this charity ; a child crying from 
 want ! a wTetched mother 1 and showed what bless- 
 
 * Cernens puerum vagientem, miserla ejus, ait : Accipe pu- 
 erum istum et nutri mihi ; ego daho mercedem tuam. Ex. ii. 
 6, 9. 
 
 f Accipe puerum et mafrem ejus. Matt. ii. 13, 20. 
 
352 I-IFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ings the alms he solicited would confer upon society, 
 upon the benefactors themselves, and the unfortunate 
 sufferers for whom he was pleading. Preaching for 
 the House of Mercy, he took these words of the 
 Lord, found in Ezekiel : " I will feed my sheep : I 
 ivill seek that which ivas lost : and that which was 
 driven away I will bring again : and I loill hind up 
 that which was broken : and I ivill strengthen that 
 which was weak : and I will feed them in judg- 
 ment ;'^* and he went on to develope, in the most 
 affecting manner, the motives which should induce 
 his hearers to unite in this great work of divine 
 mercy. If he was not sufficiently acquainted with 
 the place where he was to preach, to be able to 
 determine what would be most suitable, he obtained 
 the necessary information from the curate or the su- 
 perior of the place, and carefully observed himself 
 what was said or done in his presence ; and every 
 particular, relating either to persons or things, of 
 which he could profitably speak, was introduced into 
 his discourse so adroitly and naturally, that one would 
 suppose it brought in to strengthen the proofs and 
 give point to the sermon, rather than that the ser- 
 mon was accommodated to it. Among innumerable 
 instances we shall mention but one. He was one 
 
 * Ego pascam oves meas ; quod perierat requiram, et quod 
 ahjectum fuerat reducam, et quod coufradum fuerat alligabo) 
 et quod iiijirmum fuerat consolidabo, et pascam illos in ju- 
 dido. Ezek. xxxiv. 15, 16. 
 
HIS USE OF THE SCRIPTURES IN PREACHING. 353 
 
 day preaching at Bordeaux, in behalf of the Society 
 for disseminating good Books. After having shown, 
 in the first division of his discourse, the utihty of good 
 books in enhghtening the mind and forming the heart, 
 he was proceeding to point out, in the second place, 
 the danger of bad ones, which impair the judgment, 
 corrupt the heart, and impart no valuable informa- 
 tion to the mind, when the Jesuits unexpectedly 
 entered the church, attended by their pupils. " These 
 young men are my witnesses," added the Archbish- 
 op ; " the hope of France, the pride of our country. 
 They read none but good books, and hold the pe- 
 rusal of such as are of bad or dangerous tendency 
 in abhorrence ; and yet their minds are in the highest 
 degree cultivated. This learned body are my wit- 
 nesses, who have formed the finest minds in France, 
 who have always excelled all other societies in the 
 difficult art of educating youth and cultivating talent. 
 Good books are the only means they have employed." 
 So skilfully did the Cardinal avail himself of every 
 occurrence to enrich his discourses. *' In my ora- 
 torical penury," he said with simplicity, " I seize upon 
 every thing I can find, to supply my own deficien- 
 cies." 
 
 The Holy Scriptures, with which he was so fa- 
 miliar, also lent him their aid on these occasions ; 
 and whatever the subject he had to treat, the most fe- 
 licitous passages, the most striking incidents, and the 
 most touching narratives, borrowed from our sacred 
 30* 
 
354 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 books, were always at hand to embellish his discourse, 
 to touch the heart, and to interest every mind ; and 
 we may even mention as the third characteristic which 
 eminently distinguished the sermons of the Cardinal, 
 that they were derived entirely from the Holy Scrip- 
 tures ; and that his sermons were, in truth, only the 
 word of God expounded and rendered intelligible to 
 the faithful. He said that philosophical speculations 
 were very well for academies ; but that in the pulpit, 
 the word of God alone should furnish the preacher with 
 proofs, exhortations, and counsels. Whatever was the 
 theme of his discourse, he always found in the Scrip- 
 tures all that it behoved him to say ; and his dis- 
 courses borrowed from that sacred source a grace, 
 an interest, an authority, and, as it were, a divine 
 power, which distinguished them from all other ser- 
 mons. Now he spoke of Gehazi, unable with the 
 staff of the prophet to restore to life the child of the 
 Shunamite ; and Elisha, who could work this miracle 
 only by stretching himself upon the child ; a type 
 of pastors, who should introduce the vital principle 
 of faith into the souls of children, by being themselves 
 their teachers, and not devolving this duty upon any 
 one else ; by becoming as little children, and adapting 
 their language to the comprehension of these young 
 and as yet unpractised minds. And now of the tender 
 Rizpah, watching by the dead bodies of her children, 
 to keep off the birds of prey by day, and the wild 
 beasts by night ; a representative of the vigilance which 
 
HIS USE OP THE EXAMPLE OP THE SAVIOUR. 355 
 
 parents ought to exercise, in order to preserve their 
 children from the contagion of bad example and dan- 
 gerous company. Again, of Raguel, exclaiming, at 
 the sight of the youthful Tobias, " How like is this 
 young man to my cousin ! Quam similis est juvenis 
 isie consohrino meo!'^* *' An exclamation," said he, 
 *• which should be uttered by every Christian heart, 
 at the sight of every brother man, even of the un- 
 known and the stranger ; in whom we ought to see 
 the family likeness, a resemblance to our Heavenly 
 Father, who has stamped upon them his own image, 
 and adopted them for his children ; the features of 
 our divine Saviour, whose living members they are : 
 Quant similis est juvenis iste consohrino meoJ^ At 
 all times and on all occasions, he loved to adduce 
 the precepts and the example of Jesus Christ as unerr- 
 ing rules of conduct in every circumstance of life. 
 The character of this divine Saviour, so affectionate, 
 so kind, and so tender, had deeply touched his heart, 
 and he never could admire it enough, nor become 
 weary of recurring to it in his instructions. He ex- 
 hibited him as worthy of the highest admiration, in 
 his childhood, in his youth, in his retired life at 
 Nazareth ; and at a later period, in his domestic 
 circle, whether in his intercourse with his apos- 
 tles generally, with whom he bore in spite of their 
 faults, whom he called his beloved, his dear chiU 
 
 * Tob. vii. 2. 
 
356 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 dren^ whom he even tenderly kissed when he 
 met them again after an absence ;f or with Saint 
 John in particular, for whom he felt a friendship 
 so tender as to permit him to lean on his bosom. J 
 But especially did he invite admiration to his pub- 
 lic life ; taking little children in his arms and bless- 
 ing them, preaching the gospel to the poor, and 
 consoling them for their hard lot, by his words, his 
 example, and his alms, <§> although he was him- 
 self poor ; healing all diseases, doing good to all, 
 performing all his miracles in the spirit of kind- 
 ness and love ; weeping with them that wept, at 
 the grave of Lazarus, and rejoicing with them that 
 rejoiced at the marriage in Cana ; having compassion 
 on the affliction of the widow of Nain, and restor- 
 ing to her her son ; pitying the sufferings of Peter's 
 mother-in-law, remaining by her bed-side, taking her 
 by the hand, assisting her to arise, blessing her, and 
 restoring her to health ; in short, always mild, kind, 
 and affectionate towards all ; always humble and 
 modest, never lifting up his voice in dispute ; teach- 
 ing us, by the parables of the Good Shepherd and 
 of the Prodigal Son, the love of God towards us ; and, 
 by that of the Good Samaritan, the compassion we 
 
 » John xiii. 33. 
 
 f The Cardinal infers this from these words of Judas to the 
 Jews : " Whomsoever I shall kiss, that is he : Quemcumque 
 osculalus fuero^ ipse est." 
 
 X John xiii. 23. § John xiii. 29. 
 
HIS SENSIBILITY IN PREACHING. 357 
 
 should feel for our fellow-men, even such as are 
 strangers to us, as the Jew was to the people of Sa- 
 maria. These, and many similar passages, deeply 
 impressed on the Cardinal's heart by his love of the 
 Saviour, were appropriately introduced to adorn and 
 to sanctify all his instructions ; so that he might truly 
 say, with the Apostle : " We preach not ourselves, 
 but Jesus Christ our Lord : Non nosmeiipsos prcBdi- 
 camus, sed Jesum Christum, Dominiim nostrum.^^ * 
 
 The exquisite sensibility of his nature diffused, 
 over such portions of his discourses as admitted of 
 its display, a charm which greatly heightened the in- 
 terest of his preaching. And this may be considered 
 as the fourth characteristic of his eloquence. He be- 
 lieved that men were to be influenced through the 
 affections, since, when the heart is once touched, 
 every thing is gained ; the mind no longer - attempts 
 to reason, and the will becomes submissive. Thus, 
 in his instructions, religion appeared invested with 
 every engaging and affectionate attribute ; as a mother 
 full of tenderness for all mankind, but especially for 
 all the afflicted ; anxious to alleviate every misfortune, 
 to dry every tear except those of compassion and 
 charity, and to bestow upon man, even here below, 
 the highest happiness of which he is capable; a 
 mother full of love, wishing to see all her children 
 cordially united as one great family, assisting one an- 
 2 Cor. iv. 5. 
 
358 LTFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 Other like brethren, the great and the rich upholding 
 the insignificant and the poor ; all, in short, forming 
 but one heart and one soul. The Cardinal loved to 
 enforce the benevolent lessons of this holy religion, 
 and delighted especially to repeat his favorite motto : 
 " My beloved, let us love one another ; we are all 
 children of the same Father, who is God, all brothers 
 in Jesus Christ, all members of the same body, of 
 which the divine Saviour is the head." But the 
 tenderness of his heart was most apparent, in speak- 
 ing of the divisions engendered in society by differ- 
 ences of opinion. " Oh, shame ! oh, reproach of 
 Christianity ! " cried he. " The Pagans once ob- 
 served, on witnessing the lives of the first Christians, 
 ' See how they love one another 1 ' but, alas ! at the 
 present day, on beholding the divisions which rend 
 the very bosom of religion, they would rather be 
 tempted to exclaim, * See how little they love one 
 another ! ' Tell me not," he added, ^' that these 
 men whom you do not love are wicked, and the 
 enemies of religion. My brethren, Religion herself 
 entreats you to love those who hate her. You are 
 little acquainted with that holy Religion, if you be- 
 lieve it possible to honor and serve her at the ex- 
 pense of charity. God so tenderly loves even those 
 who do not love him, that he commands you, on 
 pain of eternal punishment, not only to bear with 
 them, but to love them ; to love them as you love 
 yourselves, to love them as he himself has loved us, 
 
HJS MOVING APPEALS. 359 
 
 and ever to regard ihem, in spite of their errors, as 
 brethren in Jesus Christ, children of our heavenly 
 and common Father." 
 
 It may easily be conceived, that a heart so affec- 
 tionate gave the Cardinal irresistible power over the 
 feelings of his hearers, when he wished to interest 
 them in the cause of the poor and the sick. Ten- 
 derly alive to the misfortunes of others, he depicted 
 them in the most affecting colors ; and the eloquence 
 of deep feeling gave still greater effect to his words ; 
 an eloquence speaking in every feature, and modu- 
 lating the accents of his agitated voice, which revealed 
 to all how much he was moved by the distresses of 
 his brethren. *' I throw myself at your feet to im- 
 plore your charity," he sometimes said to his hear- 
 ers; "'Behold me, and the children whom the Lord 
 hath given me : ecce ego et pueri quos dedit mihi 
 Dominus.' * I am the father of a family, who can- 
 not provide all his children with food, and ask you 
 to give them bread. Will you refuseme ? Ah, you 
 may rely upon my gratitL\de, and that of my numer- 
 ous family." He then dwelt upon the delightful 
 emotions, the sweet complacency, which a kind heart 
 feels in doing good ; Benefacit animce sU(B vir mise- 
 ricors,-f " We have then a foretaste," said he, " of 
 the bliss of heaven ; we shed tears cf happiness, de- 
 licious tears, pure as the crystal stream which flows 
 
 * Isaiah viii. 18. f Prov. xi. 17. 
 
3G0 LI^'E OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 before the throne of the Lamb. " * And after having 
 taken his hearer captive, rather by the charm of his 
 sensibility than by elegance of style, and persuaded him 
 to give alms, he went on, with a sensibility no less 
 touching, to say how they should be bestowed. He 
 directed him not only to give lieartily, since the Lord 
 loveth a cheerful giver ; but with delicacy, with a sort 
 of respect and tenderness, which makes the poor 
 feel less keenly the severity of their lot. He said, 
 in accordance with the words of the Holy Spirit, 
 "*My son, in thy good deeds make no complaint: 
 and when thou givest any thing, add not grief by 
 an evil word.' As * the dew refreshes' the earth 
 parched by 'the heat' of the sun, *so also the 
 good word is better than the gift to the soul with- 
 ered and scathed by misfortune.' ' Lo, is not a word 
 better than a gift? but both are with a justified man; ' 
 while 'a fool will upbraid bitterly' the objects of 
 his charity, ' and a gift of one ill taught consumeth 
 the eyes,' of the poor man on whom it is so be- 
 stowed, f To give alms in an unfeeling manner," 
 he further said, " is to dissolve a pearl in vinegar ; it 
 is to deprive charity of one of its essential charac- 
 teristics, which is kindness ; Caritas benigna estJ^ % 
 And he cited as models, Boaz, who commanded his 
 reapers purposely to let fall some ears of corn in the 
 furrows, that Ruth might glean abundantly, without 
 
 * Apoc. xxii. 1. f Ecclesiasticus xviii. 15-18. 
 
 X 1 Cor. xiii. 4. 
 
Ills LAST ILLNESS. 361 
 
 shame ; and the patriarch Joseph, who said to his 
 brethren, " Fear not ; I will feed you and your chil- 
 dren" and addressed to them words of comfort, gen- 
 tleness, and kindness, consolatusque est eos et blande 
 ac leniter locutus est ; * Joseph of Arimathea, also, 
 with Nicodemus, and the holy women who embalmed 
 with such reverence the body of Jesus Christ. 
 " The alms," said he, " with which you succour the 
 living members of this divine Saviour, are, in his 
 eyes, like sweet-smelling perfumes with which you 
 embalm his body. Perform, then, an act so holy, in 
 a holy manner, and treat the members of Jesus 
 Christ with suitable respect and delicacy." 
 
 Thus did the Cardinal pour forth in the pulpit 
 the feelings of his tender and affectionate heart. 
 His discourses were, indeed, rich in fine and in- 
 genious thoughts, and pointed and graceful expres- 
 sions ; but his sensibility was the great secret of 
 his eloquence. This inspired the tender and affect- 
 ing language which found its way to every heart, 
 diffused an indefinable charm over all his words, and 
 endued them with that soft persuasion, which was 
 perfectly irresistible. 
 
 Such was this illustrious Cardinal, who was attacked 
 by a fatal illness in July, 1836. It had long been 
 his practice to pray that God, in his mercy, would 
 
 * Gen. 1. 21. 
 
 31 
 
362 LIFE OP CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 send him a sudden death,* wishing to spare those 
 about him the trouble and solicitude which pro- 
 tracted sickness occasions. Heaven seemed to hear 
 his prayer. On the 7th of July, after the arduous 
 labors of which we have spoken at the close of the 
 preceding Book, he experienced a confusion of mind, 
 and a loss of memory, which alarmed all his friends, 
 and made him think that he was near his end. The 
 physicians prescribed remedies ; but believing his 
 death certain, and ail these prescriptions useless, 
 he thought only of preparing for his final change, 
 added a codicil to his will, confessed on the J 3th, 
 and, the next day, at five o'clock in the morning, 
 was struck, as by a thunder-bolt, with apoplexy and 
 paralysis, which instantly deprived him of all con- 
 sciousness and feeling ; such, at least, was the opinion 
 of the physicians. Extreme unction was adminis- 
 tered to him without delay ; the prayer of the forty 
 hours was ordered to be said in all the churches and 
 chapels of the city ; and a sorrowing multitude crowd- 
 ed around the altars, to pray for the life of their 
 beloved pastor. In the mean time, the physicians 
 assembled around the bed of the distinguished patient, 
 vied with each other in paying him every attention, and 
 consulted together on the best course to be pursued. 
 All the resources of their art were employed in vain ; 
 
 *In reciting the htanies of the Saints, instead of saying, 
 " A suhitaned et improvisd morte libera nos, Domine,^^ he said 
 only, " Ab improvisd morte libera nos^ DomineJ" 
 
PRAYERS CONSTANTLY SAID IN HIS SICK ROOM. 363 
 
 no amendment took place, and all hope was shut out. 
 Prayer alone remained. An altar was then erected 
 in the chamber of the sick man ; the rochet of Saint 
 Charles,* a precious relic belonging to the cathedral, 
 was placed upon it ; and around it knelt successive 
 bands of priests, arrayed in their surplices, that prayers 
 might be said without intermission. The third day, 
 the malady continually advancing, the chapter came 
 in a body to repeat the prayers for the dying, 
 which were not discontinued from that time until the 
 moment of his death ; the priests of the city and 
 diocese, who had hastened to the spot as soon as 
 they heard of the illness of his Eminence, succeed- 
 ing each other in this sad duty. While they were 
 thus engaged, the virtuous priest, who, at the benev- 
 olent instance of the Cardinal, had been the in- 
 strument of so much good, the Abbe Dupuch, re- 
 mained beside the bed of death, like a child beside 
 that of his father, suggesting from time to time pious 
 thoughts to the sick man, in case he had his senses, 
 as many suspected, although the physicians thought 
 otherwise. Every avenue to the archiepiscopal pal- 
 ace was filled with sorrowing crowds, anxiously in- 
 quiring after the health of one so dear to them. 
 The civil authorities, from time to time, came, weep- 
 
 * This is the same rochet which he had on at the moment 
 when his life was attempted in his oratory, by the discharge of 
 an arquebuse. The Cardinal de Sourdis, Archbishop of Bor- 
 deaux, brought this remarkable relic from Italy, and gave it to 
 his cathedral. 
 
364 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 ing, to look upon the dying countenance of the father 
 and friend of all his people. Clergy, laymen, phy- 
 sicians,* all contended for the honor of staying beside 
 the illustrious patient during the day, and watching 
 with him at night ; and regarded it as a privilege to 
 pay him this tribute of affection. On the 18th the 
 holy mass was celebrated in his chamber, as also on the 
 19th; and they were offering the holy sacrifice for 
 the fourth time, when, at the moment of the elevation 
 of the host, as if after having saluted his Redeemer, 
 his soul burst the last bonds of its captivity, and he 
 expired gently and without a struggle, on the day 
 on which the church celebrates the festival of Saint 
 Vincent de Paul, many of whose virtues he inherited. 
 The news of his death, although not unexpected, 
 occasioned as profound a sorrow as if the event had 
 occurred suddenly. Throughout the archiepiscopal 
 palace all manifested the deepest grief. The con- 
 fessor of the Cardinal, a venerable priest,t who had 
 come from America to Bordeaux to spend with the 
 Cardinal the last days of an infirm old age, was the 
 only one who shed no tear, although the traces of 
 grief were visible on his countenance. " I would 
 
 * We are happy in this place to point out to the grateful at- 
 tention of the public, among others, Doctor Gintrac, who, with 
 the greatest interest, directed the mode of treatment; and Doc- 
 tor Mabit, who, on this occasion, as ever, displayed the most 
 devoted kindness, passed many nights with his Eminence, and 
 received his last sigh. 
 
 \ [Mr. Cooper, of Virginia. — Tr.] 
 
CONCOURSE TO BEHOLD HIS BODY LYING IN STATE. 365 
 
 weep with you," he said to the others, ^' but I can- 
 not ; for, if I have lost a friend, heaven has gained a 
 saint." From the archiepiscopal palace, the grief 
 soon spread throughout the city and diocese. The 
 multitude flocked to the gates of the palace, to ask 
 the consolation of contemplating once again the feat- 
 ures of him they loved, before he was consigned to 
 the tomb ; and when the body of the prelate, in his 
 rich Cardinal's robes, had been placed in the illu- 
 minated chapel prepared for the purpose, all were 
 allowed to enter. For two days the concourse was 
 incessant ; people of all ranks and classes mingled 
 together to look for the last time upon the beloved 
 face of their father and friend. Although severe and 
 protracted suffering had left its traces on his coun- 
 tenance, and it wore the livid and melancholy hue of 
 death, they still thought they could discover in his 
 features that wonted expression of kindness which 
 had won so many hearts. Consternation was paint- 
 ed on every face ; and the silent multitude, with 
 bended forms, and eyes fixed on him whom they 
 were never again to behold, seemed loath to depart. 
 A few words only escaped from the grief of the spec- 
 tators. " Oh ! the good pastor, the charitable man ! " 
 said some, wiping away the tears which bathed their 
 cheeks. " No, never will the poor forget him," said 
 others sobbing. " We must console him for having 
 left us," said one of the common people, " by loving 
 one another sincerely, as he has so often exhorted us 
 31* 
 
366 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 to do, when he called us his dearly beloved. "^^ Such 
 was their veneration, that all were solicitous to touch 
 his body with some devotional article, as a cross, a 
 medal, or a rosary ; and were so eager to possess 
 something which had belonged to him, that it was 
 necessary to take precautions to prevent the public 
 veneration from carrying away piece-meal the habil- 
 iments in which the body was shrouded ; and the 
 friends who were able to obtain some small frag- 
 ments of his garments received and preserved them 
 with religious respect. A wish was then expressed 
 to have the body embalmed ; but the family of the 
 illustrious departed objected to this, and merely had 
 it enclosed in a leaden coffin, from a respect to the 
 wishes of his Eminence, who had often, during his 
 life, expressed his disapprobation of the practice of em- 
 balming the dead ; "We are dust," he said, "and must 
 return to dust." It would even have been his wish, 
 that his body might be committed to the earth without 
 much ceremony and parade ; and he had expressly 
 directed, that, if he died in the course of any of his 
 pastoral visitations, he should be interred in the cem- 
 etery of the parish where he breathed his last. But 
 it was not thought best to comply with his wishes in 
 this respect. 
 
 The body remained exposed in the illuminated 
 chapel seven days, during all which time the faith- 
 ful came in countless numbers to weep and pray 
 there ; masses were celebrated there from morning 
 
SOLEMN POMP OP THE FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 367 
 
 till noon, and the prayers for the dead were said 
 from noon till evening, by the clergy of the different 
 parishes ; the people of each parish forming a pro- 
 cession, and corning severally at an hour appointed, 
 to pay this last duty to their common pastor. On 
 the 26th of July, the funeral obsequies of the illus- 
 trious deceased were celebrated with the greatest 
 magnificence; and that tender veneration, which his 
 virtues and his dignity inspired, honored his remains 
 with every possible mark of respect. The cathedral 
 was richly hung, and in the centre of the nave was 
 erected a superb catafalco, or tomb of state, decorat- 
 ed with the arms of his Eminence, and his various 
 insignia and official decorations both as Cardinal and 
 Archbishop. The procession was composed of all 
 the religious corporations and communities of the 
 city ; all the military, judicial, and civil authorities ; 
 and the great body of the clergy, assembled from 
 every part of the diocese, with the bishops of Peri- 
 gueux and Rochelle, who had come to pay the last 
 honors to their metropolitan. The funeral train passed 
 through the principal quarters of the city, between 
 troops of the line and the National Guard, who vied 
 with each other in their endeavours to render the 
 ceremony more solemn and imposing. Everywhere, 
 as they passed along, the mournful aspect of the 
 mute and motionless crowd testified their sorrow, 
 their respect, and their love. When the procession 
 came to the street through which, four months be- 
 
368 LIFE OF CARDINAL CHEVERUS. 
 
 fore. Cardinal Cheverus, on making his solemn entry 
 into Bordeaux invested with the Roman purple, was 
 conducted in triumph, amid shouts of joy, every heart 
 was overpowered with unutterable emotion. The 
 contrast between that scene of rejoicing, with its 
 splendid pomp, and the universal lamentation, the 
 mournful bier, was indeed heart-rending; and the 
 remembrance of past felicity added to the poignancy 
 of present grief. The procession returned to the 
 cathedral, and after the usual ceremonies and the 
 prayers for the dead, his venerated remains were 
 deposited in the principal vault of the church. But 
 this was intended only as their temporary resting- 
 place ; for, from the first, it was the general wish 
 and intention to erect in the cathedral a splendid 
 monument for their reception. A committee was 
 immediately chosen to superintend its execution ; a 
 subscription was opened, to raise funds for the 
 purpose, and generous donations were given. The 
 work is now in progress ; and there is every reason 
 to believe that it will be worthy of the diocese of 
 Bordeaux, worthy of the metropolitan city of Aqui- 
 tania, and worthy, above all, of the virtues and the 
 high dignities of him who is there to repose in the 
 hope of the resurrection. 
 
FRENCH MISSIONARIES. 369 
 
 Extract from the *' Genius of Christianity" on the 
 subject of Missions, quoted by Bishop Cheverus in 
 a sermon preached at Boston, See page 136, of 
 this work. 
 
 " Nearly all the French missions were established 
 
 by Colbert and Louvois Fathers Fontenay, 
 
 Tachard, Gerbillon, Lecomte, he, were sent to the 
 Indies by Louis the Fourteenth, and we are in- 
 debted to these missionaries for the love which the sav- 
 ages in the forests of America still bear to the name 
 of Frenchmen." — (Book IV. on Missions, Chap. I.) 
 
 " Europe, and especially France, which furnished 
 a great proportion of the missionaries, might well be 
 proud to send forth annually men who went to ex- 
 hibit the wonders of the arts, of laws, of humanity, 
 and of courage, in the four quarters of the globe. 
 Hence the exalted idea which foreigners have formed 
 of our nation and the God whom we adore. The 
 most remote people have sought our alliance ; and 
 the ambassador of the savages of the West has met at 
 our court the minister of the nations of the East." 
 ^(Ibid. Chap. IX.) 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Page 30. — Tke English government, &c. " M. Cheverus 
 was never under the necessity of receiving any portion of 
 that bounty the British government so promptly afforded to 
 the suffering French clergy, but was at times able to assist 
 some of his brethren." — Boston Monthly Magazine,* June, 
 1825. p. 5. 
 
 Page 49. — travelling on foot, &c. " The younger of these 
 divines [M. Cheverus] has often taken his staff, and com- 
 menced his journey by day and night, like the primitive mis- 
 sionaries of the church, not to disturb the faith of others, nor 
 to combat heresy, but to shrive some humble Catholic who 
 was dying among strangers, and whose soul was panting to 
 catch the last consolations of the religion he professed. Often 
 he continued his travels to the wilds of Maine, to instruct 
 and comfort a few Catholics scattered through that country; 
 but the great object of his visit was to enlighten and cherish 
 the sons of the forest in that region, and at each visit he 
 spent two or three months with the Passamaquoddy and Pe- 
 nobscot tribes of Indians." — Ibid. pp. 6, 7. 
 
 Page 50. — A Protestant journal informs us, &,c. As this 
 anecdote has been called in question, it is thought advisa- 
 
 * I have cited this journal wherever it touches on any questionable 
 points in the present work, because I suppose it to be the source from 
 which M. Dubourg has himself drawn. From the frequency with which 
 it is expressly quoted by him, it is evident that it was one of his prin- 
 cipal authorities. So far as it may be adduced, therefore, in support of 
 the statements of the French biographer, it must be regarded as afford- 
 ing conclusive evidence that he has, at least, not fabricated his facts. 
 
372 APPENDIX. 
 
 ble to quote the authority for it in full. " A pious Protest- 
 ant clergyman considered it his duty to go and talk to these 
 Catholics [MM. Matignon and Cheverus], and see if it were 
 not possible to convince them of the errors of their belief; 
 but after an interval of some length, he returned to his friends, 
 who were waiting to hear of the success of the mission, ex- 
 claiming, ' These men are so learned,' " &.c. The remainder 
 of the quotation is given in the text, and it is unnecessary 
 to repeat it. — Ibid. p. 6. 
 
 Page 54. — In the last war, &c. "He was a good citizen 
 of his adopted country. He never lost an opportunity of 
 teaching his flock the blessings flowing from the government 
 under which they lived, and kept alive in their breasts a warm 
 and constant patriotism. In the last war with England, when 
 Boston was threatened with an attack from the enemy, and 
 voluntary contributions of labor became necessary for making 
 arrangements for a proper defence. Bishop Cheverus several 
 times went out to work at the head of his flock, to assist in 
 
 building ramparts and breastworks for defence It should 
 
 be said, in justice to all his people, that, during the war, which 
 was happily of short duration, they were at all times prompt 
 and efficient assistants in every plan for our protection." — Ibid. 
 p. 11. 
 
 This statement is more full in its details than that which it 
 is adduced to illustrate ; but the general tone of the latter is 
 much the stronger. Still, the glowing language of the Bos- 
 ton journal, in reference to the warm and constant patriotism 
 and the prompt and efficient services of the Catholics, may 
 have been the occasion of betraying M. Dubourg into the use 
 of those superlatives for which he has been censured, espe- 
 cially as his Catholic zeal would naturally predispose him to 
 avail himself of whatever ground might off'er for an advan- 
 tageous comparison with Protestants. 
 
APPENDIX. 373 
 
 Page 56. — many Protestant ladies, &c. " Bishop Cheverus 
 numbered among his most intimate friends a large circle of 
 intellectual females of the Protestant faith, and many of them 
 moving in the higher walks of life. In his judgment and 
 friendship they reposed implicit confidence ; and not only con- 
 sulted him themselves, but taught their children, in every 
 painful or delicate exigency of their lives, to call on him for 
 counsel and direction. They knew his bosom would be a safe 
 repository of their secrets and their griefs, and that his wisdom 
 would suggest the most honorable course of duty. In truth it 
 may be said, that he had as many confidential communications 
 out of the confessional as in it." — Ibid, p. 1 1. 
 
 Page 59. — and when Mr. Shaw, &c. " He was friendly to 
 our literary associations ; and when Mr. Shaw, a gentleman 
 well known to the lovers of literature, as the indefatigable 
 projector of the Boston AthensBum, was in the early stages 
 of his efforts, Bishop Cheverus assisted in the enterprise, by 
 liberal donations from his extensive library ; and at his depart- 
 ure froin this country, in dividing his books, this valuable and 
 flourishing institution was not forgotten." — Ibid. p. 12. 
 
 Page 63. — on footy &c. See note on p. 49, ante. 
 
 Page G7. — To purity of manners, &c. " He [M. Cheverus] 
 always thought the aborigines of this country had more char- 
 acter than the early historians had been willing to allow 
 them." — ittV/. p. 7. 
 
 The French missionaries seem generally to have held the 
 American Indians in higher estimation than has been usual 
 with their Protestant brethren, and to have found them much 
 more open to religious instruction and influence. 
 
 Page 69. — These kind savages, &lc. " Numerous instances 
 32 
 
374 APPENDIX. 
 
 of their affection for their spiritual guide were frequently 
 mentioned by him." — Ibid. p. 7. 
 
 Page 72. — The yellow fever, &c. This fearful disease 
 prevailed in Boston several times during the period of Bishop 
 Cheverus's residence in that city ; first, during the summer of 
 1798, again in 1802, and once or twice afterwards. Eye- 
 witnesses to the condition of things in the city during the 
 prevalence of the fever in 1798 and 1802 concur, to the full 
 extent, in the statements of M. Dubourg, respecting the gen- 
 eral panic among the inhabitants, and bear honorable testi- 
 mony to the conduct of M. Cheverus and M. Matignon at this 
 trying period. The statement, that they alone of all the 
 clergy braved the horrors of the pestilence, is a mistake ; 
 numbers of the Protestant ministers remained in the city, and, 
 with them, faithfully discharged those duties of religion and 
 humanity, which belonged to their office ; although, it is not 
 denied, some few of the clergy, participating in the common 
 alarm, removed out of town. To this circumstance, doubtless, 
 the statement in the text owes its origin. What the poet said 
 long ago was no new thing in his day, and is far from strange 
 
 in ours : 
 
 it Fama per urbes, 
 
 Mobilitate viget, viresque adquirit eundo. 
 Everybody knows that what is true of a part may often be- 
 come gradually magnified so as at length to include the 
 whole, and in this shape be with the most entire honesty re- 
 peated. In correcting the error of M. Dubourg, therefore, there 
 is no occasion for imputing to him any intentional exaggeration. 
 
 Page 74.- — in all assemblies, the Jirst place icas for him, &c. 
 The language of the entire paragraph is altogether Parisian, 
 and would probably convey to the French reader very nearly 
 the same idea which is expressed by a Boston reviewer of this 
 work : " The exemplary devotion of M. Cheverus to his min- 
 istry seldom permitted his mingling in general society ; but 
 
APPENDIX. 375 
 
 whenever he appeared, he was cordially welcomed, and 
 treated with marked respect." — Boston Daily Advertiser, 
 Jan. 30, 1839. 
 
 It may be added, that there are many who remember to 
 have frequently seen M. Cheverus officiate on public occa- 
 sions of the sort mentioned in the text. 
 
 Page 76. — hitherto^ divine ivorship had been celebrated only 
 in private houses, converted into chapels. M. Dubourg seems 
 to have been misinformed on this point. " The first Roman 
 Catholic congregation," says Dr. Snow, " was assembled in 
 Boston in the year 1784, from the French and Irish then resi- 
 dent here, by the Abb^ La Poitrie, a chaplain in the French 
 navy." It is not stated where their meetings were held dur- 
 ing the first few years after this period ; but, " in the year 
 1788, they obtained possession of the old French church in 
 School street," which was erected about the year 1716, for 
 the use of "a French congregation of Protestant refugees"; 
 by them " transferred to several gentlemen as trustees of a 
 new congregational church," in 1748, in whose possession it 
 remained until the death of their pastor, in 1788, when it 
 passed into the hands of the Catholics, as is stated above, and 
 was by them occupied for religious worship, until the erection 
 of their new church, in li^O'S. — Snow^s History of Boston, 2d 
 ed. pp. 200, 201, 202, 232, and 340. 
 
 Page 80. — a letter from Bishop Carroll. The excellence of 
 this letter renders it worthy of a place in the life of Cardinal 
 Cheverus. 
 
 " Baltimore, April 9th, 1803. 
 
 " Rev. Sir : — After reading your letter of March 31st, re- 
 ceived yesterday, I am not surprised that you are agitated 
 with doubts, trouble, and anxiety. Perhaps I am too much 
 interested in the welfare of the faithful committed to my pas- 
 toral care, to decide your doubts, and remove your perplexity. 
 
376 APPENDIX. 
 
 However, you are entitled to my opinion on a subject in 
 which both of us, and many besides us, are deeply concerned. 
 "I take it for granted that you were, by the usual and regu- 
 lar law of the church, attached to your native diocese, and 
 subject to its bishop ; and, therefore, that you were bound not 
 to abandon it, and enter into the service of any other diocese, 
 without obtaining license for that purpose, as prescribed by 
 the canons ; which canons likewise subject those prelates to 
 the censures of the church, who shall employ clergymen aban- 
 doning their own diocese without proper authority. 
 
 "Such is the usual and regular law of the church; but this 
 law supposes, evidently, that the clergyman who becomes 
 subject to it shall have employment assigned to him in his 
 diocese, and that he may be supported in its services and ex- 
 ercise his ministry, at least as long as he does not forfeit the 
 confidence of his Ordinary Diocesan Bishop, by his own mis- 
 conduct. But if events take place, even much less violent 
 than those produced by the late revolution, so that a clergy- 
 man cannot hope for support, protection, or safety ; if his 
 bishop can no longer employ him ; and the clergyman, in con- 
 sequence of the necessities pressing on him, be induced to 
 seek for safety, and undertake elsewhere the care of souls ; 
 it appears clear to me, that he is no longer bound in justice 
 to the service of his former diocese ; what claims of charity 
 may remain shall be considered afterwards. 
 
 "That the general and usual obligation of ecclesiastical in- 
 stitutions was dissolved with respect to the persecuted clergy 
 of France, so that they were at liberty to enter into other 
 engagements, incompatible with their primitive connexion with 
 their native diocese or former parish, appears evident from 
 various considerations. 1st. If persecuted priests, expelled 
 from their benefices, having annexed to them the care of souls, 
 should have been nominated to valuable prebends or profes- 
 sorships in foreign countries, with this express condition, that 
 they should hold their places for a certain term of years j 
 
APPENDIX. 377 
 
 might they not have accepted such appointments, though it 
 was possible, that, before the expiration of the stipulated term 
 of years, peace would be restored to their country ? 2d. In 
 the same manner, when French clergymen, wandering in 
 want through the world, and victims of persecution, accepted 
 offers of employment made to them by Catholic prelates, and 
 obtained the respect, confidence, and veneration of the faith- 
 ful placed under their care, is it not to be thought, that these 
 have acquired to themselves that right of service, for the ren- 
 dering of which their former parishioners could not afford 
 sufficient protection ? 3d. Clergymen, persecuted at home, 
 crossed dangerous seas, and travelled to a vast distance, to 
 seek the occasions of rendering that service which they were 
 not allowed to render in their own country ; but, a change 
 happening in this their country, is it to be thought that the 
 clergymen are obliged to measure back the same seas, and 
 abandon those who received them in their distress, and prof- 
 ited by their instructions ? 
 
 " These are some of the many reasons which persuade me 
 that your original connexion with your native diocese was so 
 far dissolved as to leave you at liberty, by the law of self- 
 preservation, to seek elsewhere that protection which you 
 could not find in your own country. Moreover, the changes 
 made in your own diocese and parish render them no longer 
 the same. The Pope, in his bull for the concordat, expressly 
 suppresses and totally extinguishes all the preexisting dio- 
 ceses of France. Their extinction necessarily drew with it 
 the extinction of all claims founded on their existence, and 
 consequently the new diocese and parish are foreign to you, 
 and without any rights extending to your person or services. 
 
 " To make an examination of this matter as satisfactory to 
 you as possible, I divested myself as much as I could of every 
 personal consideration, and endeavoured to view it solely in 
 itself; and the result of my reflections has been more satis- 
 factory to my mind than when I first began them. I am fully 
 32* 
 
378 APPENDIX. 
 
 persuaded that you are not obliged, by your previous engage- 
 ments to, or connexion with, your former diocese or parish, to 
 return to them. 
 
 " But do not the claims of charity compel you to resume the 
 spiritual care of those whose attachment to you has been so 
 durable, and perhaps, after the sacrifices of the revolution, are 
 much in need of your zealous and charitable services ? 
 
 " In determining this, there is not much difficulty. Consid- 
 ering the number of excellent clergymen in France, the re- 
 sources of that populous country, the numerous ecclesiastical 
 seminaries already, and the many more soon to be established, 
 there is but little danger of the faithful remaining destitute of 
 the bread of Christian doctrine, and the graces annexed to the 
 sacraments. But what resources will remain for those whom 
 you have begun to train here in the principles and duties of 
 true religion, if you quit your present station ? None at all. 
 The labor you have bestowed will be lost to them, and the 
 claims of charity are assuredly stronger in their behalf, than 
 in behalf of those who are not, and probably will never be, in 
 the same extreme necessity. With regard to the solicitations 
 of your respectable father and your other near relations, it 
 becomes me not to interfere by offering my advice. You 
 must decide on them ; and I ought to say only, that I flatter 
 myself with the hope, that the service of God, the extension 
 of the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the salvation of souls pur- 
 chased by his death, will speak more forcibly than the voice 
 of flesh and blood. I received with yours a very respectable 
 letter from some of the chiefs of the congregation of Boston, 
 and to-day another from the much respected Dr. Matignon. 
 I will send an answer to both in a few days, and promise my- 
 self that you will, at all events, remain till I have the pleasure 
 of seeing you, when the business may be discussed farther, 
 if you should still have any doubts in your mind. 
 
 "I am, with the highest esteem, Reverend Sir, your most 
 obedient servant, -|- J., Bishop of Baltimore."* 
 
 * Boston Monthly Magazine, June, 1825, p. 20. 
 
APPENDIX. 379 
 
 Page 84. — Two young Irish Catholics although inno- 
 cent, &c. The circumstantial evidence in this case was 
 strongly indicative of guilt in the prisoners; but I am informed 
 by some who were in the confidence of Bishop Cheverus dur- 
 ing his residence in Boston, that he always seemed to have a 
 persuasion of their innocence. 
 
 Page 99. — A poor sailor, &c. In this connexion, I cannot 
 forbear introducing an anecdote strongly characteristic of the 
 Bishop, which was recently communicated to me by a worthy 
 Catholic of this city. There was a poor woman, residing 
 in Water Street, a member of the Catholic church, who 
 was suffering from some chronic disease which had entirely 
 disabled her for work, on which she depended for support. 
 The Bishop visited her, and, observing her destitute con- 
 dition, sent her some firewood; It lay several days at her 
 door, when one morning, before dawn, my informant, who 
 lived near by, on rising, heard the sound of a saw, and on 
 passing out to his shop, looked in at the poor woman's gate 
 to see who was at work there at that early hour. It was 
 Bishop Cheverus ! Reproached and deeply mortified at dis- 
 covering his Bishop thus employed, the man stepped forward, 
 and begged him to give the saw into his hands. " No," re- 
 replied the Bishop, " I have let this wood lie here now several 
 days, hoping that some of you able-bodied young men would 
 offer to saw it ; but there was nobody to take pity on the poor 
 woman but the priest; and he, — because it would have been 
 unseemly for him to have gone through the streets in the 
 daytime with his horse and saw on his shoulder, and because, 
 too, he would not have it known that there was not to be found, 
 in all his fiock, a single individual to do an act of humanity for 
 a suffering sister, - the Bishop himself has had to get up be- 
 fore dawn, and come and do it with his own hands." Then, 
 turning to his work, he added, in a tone of pleasantry, as if to 
 soflen the reproof, " Come, stand back, — I never allow any- 
 
380 APPENDIX. 
 
 body to step in between me and a job." And, notwithstanding 
 all remonstrances, he persisted in finishing it ; and then re- 
 turned home as he came, with his horse and saw on his shoul- 
 der, before people were stirring in the streets. 
 
 Page 100. — the ministers of different sects sometimes 
 
 invited him to preach in their churches. I do not understand 
 this as said of Boston ministers, particularly. Indeed, I can 
 discover nothing in the context containing the slightest inti- 
 mation to this effect. That Bishop Cheverus was sometimes 
 invited to preach in Protestant churches out of Boston, there 
 can be no doubt. Besides other instances which have been 
 mentioned to me, I am authorized to state that he preached 
 by invitation in the Protestant Episcopal church in Bristol, 
 R. I., on which occasion, it is remembered, he discoursed on 
 certain of the doctrines of the Catholic church. 
 
 Page 101. — Although addressing men of a different faith, 
 &c. A specimen of Bishop Cheverus's style of argument 
 with Protestants is furnished in an article written by him for 
 the " Boston Monthly Anthology," in reply to a letter of an 
 American traveller in Italy, published in the same work, ani- 
 madverting on " the intolerance,^'' and " the superstitions and 
 absurdities,''^ of the Catholic church. 
 
 " To the American Traveller, on his second Letter, published 
 in the Anthology, Vol. IV. page 71. 
 
 « Boston, April 7ih, 1807. 
 
 " Sir : — Your second letter from Rome was mentioned to 
 me a few days ago. I perused it, and think it my duty to 
 trouble you with some reflections upon it. I am a Roman 
 Catholic, and in points of doctrine perfectly agree with my 
 brethren in Italy and elsewhere ; but neither they nor I hold 
 such a doctrine concerning indulgences and persecution, as 
 you attribute to us in your letter. 
 
APPENDIX. 381 
 
 ^^Indulgences, you sslj, are permissions, either general or more 
 limited, to commit offences, and are advertised for sale at Milan 
 and in oilier cities. As a proof, you quote two inscriptions you 
 read in the churches, in the following words : 
 
 Indulgenza pienaria tutti i giorni delta setlimana. 
 i. e. Plenary indulgences every day in the week. 
 Indulgentice plena rice et alioR non plenaHce quotidiance. 
 i. e. Plenary indulgences, and others not plenary, every day. 
 In these two inscriptions there is not a word about the sale of 
 indulgences. I look in vain for venules, or another word of the 
 same import, added to indiUgerJicB. 
 
 "Where did you read, Sir, from whom did you ever hear, 
 that indulgences are permissions to commit offences ? Not, I 
 am sure, in any Catholic writer, not from any member of our 
 church. Had you asked even the ignorant beggars you met 
 with at Loretto and in other places, whether indulgences au- 
 thorized them to get drunk, steal, &c. &c., they would have 
 looked at you with astonishment, and perhaps then mistaken a 
 Christian for an infidel. 
 
 " But what is an indulgence, you will ask, what do you mean 
 by it? It is merely, Sir, a dispensation from the whole or part 
 of the penance which is or ought to be prescribed, according 
 to the canons of the church, to those who have confessed 
 their sins. The grant of an indulgence is of no avail, except 
 to those who sincerely repent^ are firmly resolved to reform, 
 have made an humble confession of their guilt, are reconciled 
 to their enemies, have restored ill-gotten property, &c. «&c. 
 This, Sir, is our doctrine, as you will find it in our writers of 
 every tongue and nation. Saint Paul put in penance a man 
 guilty of incest, and granted him an indulgence the year fol- 
 lowing. Saint Ambrose, at Milan, subjected the emperor 
 Theodosius to public penance, and, six weeks after, on Christ- 
 mas day, granted him a plenai^ indulgence, and admitted him 
 to communion. 
 
 " We ourselves publish indulgences in our church in Boston ; 
 
382 APPENDIX. 
 
 and if indulgences are permissions to commit offences, let our 
 church be pulled down, and every Roman Catholic be banished 
 from this hospitable land. But, I dare say, Sir, you do us the 
 justice to believe, that, instead of encouraging crimes, we do 
 our best to prevent them, and, with the blessing of God, not 
 unsuccessfully. If I am not misinformed, the American 
 Traveller's respectable name is inscribed among the benefac- 
 tors of our church in this town ; I acknowledge it with pleasure 
 and gratitude, and feel happy in assuring you that you have 
 not contributed to the establishment of a school of corruption 
 and idolatry. 
 
 " Prayers for the dead are mentioned by Tertullianus, Saint 
 Chrysostom, Saint Augustine, and other Fathers of the church, 
 as an apostolic ordinance. The Jews pray for the dead now, 
 and did certainly when the Second Book of Maccabees was 
 written, i. e. 140 years before Jesus Christ. There is no harm 
 in praying, during nine days, that departed souls may be ad- 
 mitted into eternal rest; but to expect they will infallibly be 
 released from purgatory by such prayers is contrary to the 
 doctrine of the church. 
 
 " This, however, and other practices, which you tell us are 
 no better than gross idolatry, I shall not attempt to vindicate. 
 Not that I agree with you on these points, but because my 
 only object is to prove that Roman Catholics have nothing in 
 their doctrine or religious practices contrary to the welfare of 
 society, and do not deserve to be hated by their fellow-citizens, 
 as they would, in my opinion, richly deserve it, were they li- 
 censed to commit crimes, or animated with a spirit of cruelty 
 and persecution. Permit me, however, to relate to you an an- 
 ecdote, which may possibly reconcile you a little to the honors 
 shown to religious monuments at Rome. 
 
 " The celebrated French poet, the Abb6 Delille, during his 
 travels in Greece, wrote from Athens to a lady in Paris : * 
 " *CEuvres de Jacques Delille. Tom. I." 
 
APPENDIX. 393 
 
 « < In the yard of a private house I perceived a marble foun- 
 tain ; I went in, and discovered, by the fine carved work, it was 
 the remnant of an ancient magnificent tomb. I prostrated 
 myself, kissed the marble over and over again, and, in the en- 
 thusiasm of my adoration, I happened to break unawares the 
 pitcher of a boy who had come to fetch water. — I must 
 give you another instance of my superstitious love for antiquity. 
 When, with a heart flushed with hope and joy, I entered 
 Athens, the smallest broken pieces of ancient ruins were sa- 
 cred things in my eyes. I filled the pockets of my coat and 
 waistcoat with all the little bits of carved marble I could find.' 
 
 " Yourself, Sir, who are a literary gentleman, and an admirer 
 of learned antiquity, must have felt some degree of the same 
 enthusiasm, when walking on the classical ground where Virgil 
 and Horace sung, Cicero harangued, and Livy wrote ; when 
 beholding the monuments of ancient Rome. Js it, then, in re- 
 gard to religious monuments alone that every kind of enthusi- 
 asm is to be reprobated ? 
 
 " I must, however, inform you that we Catholics are, like 
 yourself, at perfect liberty either to reject or to admit the au- 
 thenticity of the relics and monuments which you mention. 
 Had you applied to any of the cardinals, or other ecclesiastics 
 in Rome, they would have told you so. From them, also, you 
 might have learned what is an indulgence. You would have 
 found in them the politeness of gentlemen, and the amiable 
 charity of real Christians, None of them would have believed 
 or called you an hiftdel, although they would have seen you 
 were prejudiced against the religion they profess and teach 
 with sincerity. They would have assured you, and shown you 
 by their conduct, that persecution is not one of our tenets, 
 neither can it be proved to be so by the two facts you allege, 
 nor indeed by any others. 
 
 "John Huss, Sir, if alive, would not be tolerated in this free 
 and liberal country. The errors he broached were proved by 
 
334 APPENDIX. 
 
 their effects, as well as by arguments, to be utterly inconsist- 
 ent with the peace of society and the very existence of civil 
 government. He caused violent seditions, in which he him- 
 self took an active part A dreadful fanatical revolution en- 
 sued, which for many years deluged with blood the plains of 
 Bohemia. In the very beginning of it, the mayor of Prague, 
 magistrates, priests were murdered. 
 
 " As for the massacre of St. Bartholomew's, I abhor, as cor- 
 dially as you do yourself, the horrid deed of blood and perfidy. 
 
 Excidat ilia dies sevo, nee pectore credant 
 Saecula. 
 
 But I tell you, with a late writer,* 'Let the blame fall, 
 where it is due, on the black vengeance of the unrelenting 
 Charles the Ninth, and on the remorseless ambition of the un- 
 principled Catherine of Medicis. They attempted to justify 
 themselves by pretending that the Huguenots were on the 
 point of executing a plot to destroy them and to overthrow the 
 government. This very calumny, which the king and queen 
 invented to excuse their barbarity, is a sufficient proof they 
 did not conceive it lawful to commit such crimes to serve their 
 religion, for which, indeed, neither of them felt much zeal. 
 As this savage villany was contrived without the participation 
 of the French clergy, so they were the most forward at the 
 time to oppose its completion, and have ever since been the 
 most warm in reprobating it. It is particularly recorded of 
 Hennuyer, Bishop of Lizieux, that he opposed, to the utmost of 
 his power, the execution of the king's order for the murder of 
 the Protestants in his diocese. He answered the governor 
 of the province, who communicated the bloody order to him: 
 It is the duty of the good shepherd to lay down his life for his 
 sheep. These are my sheep^ though they have gone astray, and I 
 am resolved to run all hazards in protecting them. The praise 
 
 " * LeUers to a Prebendary. London^ 1800." 
 
APPENDIX. 38 5 
 
 of this worthy and humane prelate is to this day in all our 
 churches. Persecution, then, is no part of our doctrine, and I 
 know it has no place in the creed of our Protestant brethren. 
 Yet have not Catholics been persecuted by Protestants ? 
 
 " Should you have any doubts on the subject, read, I beg of 
 you, Sir, the eloquent speech of the immortal Edmund Burke 
 to the electors of Bristol, in 1780. I can furnish you with au- 
 thentic historical documents on this subject, and am not afraid 
 to leave the decision to yourself. To your own candor I ap- 
 peal now, Sir, and wish to have you judge, whether, in the 
 United States, Roman Catholics can, with any propriety or 
 justice, be reproached with being persecutors ? 
 
 " Your venerable forefathers, Sir, fled, you well know, not 
 from a Popish, but from a Protestant persecution. They landed 
 here, and were at full liberty to show what was the spirit of 
 their sect. Was it toleration ? Many other virtues they pos- 
 sessed, no doubt ; but to this they were utter strangers. 
 
 "Lord Baltimore, himself a Roman Catholic, as well as his 
 companions, fled from the same persecution. See them es- 
 tablishing themselves in Maryland : they will, no doubt, 
 give strong specimens of popish bigotry and persecution. 
 They opened an asylum, afforded protection, and granted the 
 same civil privileges, to Christians of every denomination. 
 
 " 'Extraordinary scenes,' says Doctor Morse in his Geogra- 
 phy, ' were, at this time, (A. D. 1656,) exhibited on the colonial 
 theatres. In Massachusetts, the Congregationalists intolerant 
 towards the Episcopalians and every other sect; the Episcopal 
 church retaliating upon them in Virginia ; and the Roman 
 Catholics of Maryland tolerating and protecting all. Virginia 
 passed severe laws against the Puritans, whose ministers were 
 not suffered to preach. This occasioned numbers to emigrate 
 to Maryland.' 
 
 " Here are my evidences. Judge of them yourself, Sir, and 
 give your decision. I am willing to abide by it. 
 33 
 
386 APPENDIX. 
 
 "I know, Sir, that the children here have not inherited the 
 persecuting spirit of their fathers. Our church in this town is 
 a standing monument of their liberal and friendly dispositions ; 
 and the one who addresses you is proud of the friendship, and 
 grateful for the polite attentions, of several of them. 
 
 " We Roman Catholics cherish a sincere affection for this 
 country and its inhabitants ; we abhor the idea of heivg licensed 
 to commit crimes ; and, instead of hating our brethren on ac- 
 count of their religious opinions, we wish only to be able to 
 do them every service in our power. 
 
 "With respect I remain. Sir, your most obedient, humble 
 servant, A Roman Catholic" 
 
 Boston Monthly Anthology, Vol. IV., April, 1807. 
 
 Page 103. — the Protestants kissed the cross, &c. If 
 
 it is borne in mind, that some among the Protestants were 
 even converted to the Catholic faith by Bishop Cheverus, 
 there will be nothing incredible in this statement, particu- 
 larly as the language is wholly indeterminate as to numbers. 
 The same remark will apply to the expressions attributed to 
 Protestants in the two following pages. 
 
 Page 106. — a person [minister] one day said to him, &c. 
 I had deemed this a palpable mistake, and therefore had not 
 thought of investigating it. But, in the course of my inqui- 
 ries as to other points connected with the present work, I 
 have accidentally learned, from a Protestant of high respec- 
 tability, who repeatedly heard the statement from the Bishop's 
 own lips, that the case alluded to is that of an individual, who, 
 some twenty-five years since, after completing a course of 
 theological study, and being admitted to preach, produced con- 
 siderable sensation in Boston by the renunciation of Chris- 
 tianity. The conversation reported in the text was held, 
 doubtless, subsequently to his public avowal of infidelity. 
 
APPENDIX. 387 
 
 Page 106. — M. Cheverus several times held public confer- 
 ences Willi the Protestant ministers. These conferences, so far 
 as is known, were, more properly speaking, private confer- 
 ences, being held in private houses, although on the occasions 
 which are recollected there were numbers present. 
 
 Page 108. — Many Protestants had the magnanimity 
 
 to follow and embrace the Catholic religion. " Under Dr. Mati- 
 gnon and Bishop Cheverus, the congregation increased in 
 numbers and respectability, by accessions not only from the 
 foreign population of the town, but from native citizens." — 
 Snow's History of Boston, p. 340. 
 
 Page 109. — But the conversions, &c were those of 
 
 two Protestant ministers, a father and son. This "father 
 and son " were ministers of the Protestant Episcopal church, 
 by the name of Barber. The father was settled in Clare- 
 mont, N. H., and is since deceased. The son, the Rever- 
 end Virgil H. Barber, is now a professor in the Georgetown 
 (D. C.) College, and at the period of his conversion is believed 
 to have resided somewhere in the State of New York. He 
 received priest's orders from Bishop Cheverus in 1817. 
 
 Page 131. — The inhabitants of Boston respected the funeral 
 ceremonies, &c. " The remains of the Reverend Dr. Matignon 
 were entombed on Monday last, with the solemn and splendid 
 rites of the Roman Catholic church. The procession, which 
 preceded and followed the body of this learned, pious, and 
 truly Christian disciple of our Lord and Saviour, was uncom- 
 monly large, and excited a higher degree of public interest 
 than we have witnessed for many years on such occasions. 
 Perhaps few persons have descended to the grave more be- 
 loved for their piety, their Christian fortitude, and resignation, 
 or more honored for their zeal and active benevolence." — 
 Boston Commercial Gazette^ Sept. 24th, 1818. 
 
388 APPENDIX. 
 
 Page 140. — the case of a grocer, &c. The name of this 
 liberal-minded man deserves to be recorded, — John McNa- 
 mara, at the period alluded to a grocer in Broad street, Bos- 
 ton ; at present residing in Penobscot County, Maine. 
 
 Page 141. — the principal inhahiiants of Boston subscribed, 
 &c. It is believed that no subscription was actually taken up ; 
 simply, however, because it was feared that Bishop Chev- 
 erus's delicacy might be wounded by such a step. " Pfad I 
 thought he would have accepted it," said a Boston gentleman 
 to me recently, " I would, in a moment, have given him from 
 my own pocket a hundred dollars." 
 
 Page 145. — The moment of his departure, &c. "The 
 parting scene I never shall forget. At a very early hour in 
 the morning, the vestry was filled with Protestants and Cath- 
 olics, dissolved in tears to think they should never see him 
 again. It required all his firmness to support himself in bid- 
 ding them farewell. As he left the house for the carriage, 
 lisping infancy and silver-haired age rushed forward 'to pluck 
 his gown, and share the good man's smile'; and the last 
 accents of his blessing were mingled with the moans of grief 
 at his departure." — Boston Monthly Magazine, p. 16. 
 
 I have here to acknowledge an error into which I have fallen 
 in consequence of relying incautiously on personal impres- 
 sions. In a note on p. 145, I expressed a belief, that Bishop 
 Cheverus left Boston in a stagecoach, unattended by any es- 
 cort, — an impression which others seem to have entertained 
 even more strongly than myself. I am since informed, 
 however, by one who accompanied the Bishop, and by others 
 who saw him at various points along the road, as far out as 
 Walpole, gentlemen of the very highest respectability, that 
 this impression is certainly unfounded ; that, on the con- 
 trary, a large company attended him, although it is believed 
 
APPENDIX. 389 
 
 his biographer has considerably overstated* the number of 
 vehicles. I am happy to acknowledge myself corrected iir 
 this matter; not that I attach any special importance to it, 
 except as it has been made the ground of an accusation 
 against M. Dubourg, and as it may serve for an admonition 
 of the exceeding caution to be used in the correction of 
 supposed errors, and particularly in the imputation of dis- 
 honesty, even where error is manifest ; much more, where it 
 is possible, after all, that the writer may happen, as in the 
 present case, to be nearer the truth than we who have been 
 swift to impeach him. 
 
 * See remarks in Note on Page 72. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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