she said less than any, mourned for her like Jeanne. Her grief, though deep, was not, however, of that nature which incapacitates from exertion; on the contrary, the death of the exalted woman, who had ever set so noble an example to her, inspired her with the courage of which her poverty might have otherwise deprived her. The poor had now lost their best friend; Jeanne felt, therefore, that it was time for her to act. She resolved on the execution of her long-cherished plan; and whilst the heirs of the deceased lady divided her wealth amongst them, she took the noblest legacy her mistress had left-namely, her love of the poor.

Jeanne was too truly charitable to have laid up much money; she, however, owned a small sum, and, by practising rigid economy, she hoped to make it last for some time. For her future support she relied on her industry and on Providence. Having already resolved to enter no more into service, she began looking out for needlework; and was successful in finding some, although the sum she thus earned was very trifling. It may be seen. from this that she was indeed poor, and that in the strictest sense of the word; but she was both patient and unwearied, and, moreover, had a strong will of her own, which was not to be shaken by adversity or worldly considerations. Her plan was this-to take into her own house, and maintain some poor helpless creature in need not only of food and shelter, but of proper attendance. If, on trial, she found this plan successful, she meditated taking in another, and, in short, as many as she could afford to keep. This was a bold and hazardous project; but Jeanne's mind was replete with holy faith, and she was not one to allow herself to be deterred from an undertaking because it might possibly fail. And yet what had she to accomplish this? Nothing but the will. What this produced will now be seen.

Her first act was to receive beneath her humble roof a poor old blind woman, who had lately lost, with her aged sister, her only support. Her years and infirmity precluded her from work; a severe winter was drawing on; and she was entirely destitute. What was to become of the poor creature? So everybody said, but none proposed to lend her any assistance, until Jeanne appeared. She had heard of her by chance, and now, seeing her distressed state, she immediately took her home, and cheerfully began her noble task-working for the support of two, as she had hitherto done for that of one. Jeanne could not have chosen a more helpless being to succour than her guest. Not only was the poor woman incapable of the least exertion, but she required to be waited on in a manner which entailed much loss of time, and, consequently, curtailed Jeanne's slender earnings, besides trying her patience in no slight degree. But these were evils which she had anticipated, and to which, since they were unavoidable, Jeanne submitted without a murmur; and far from relaxing in her charitable endeavours, she only the more eagerly

him. It was not long before a crowd gathered around them. On learning the cause of their distress, many pitied them; but more blamed them, saying that they had no more than they de served, for leaving their parents as they had done; but nothing was proposed for their relief; until at last a person, more sensible or humane than the rest, exclaimed, "Let us take them to Jeanne." The suggestion was adopted, and the good Jeanne kindly received the fugitives, and kept them until they were taken back to their father and mother.

A poor girl, aged fourteen, had been abandoned by her parents, who were compelled, for some offence they had committed, to leave Saint-Servan precipitately. Unprotected and alone, she was exposed to every temptation which the unprincipled well know how to lay in the path of poverty and distress. Jeanne came to her aid, and rescued her from vice and misery.

In the town of Saint-Servan a woman, notorious for her bad conduct, had an aged mother, who was afflicted with an ulcer of the worst description. Disgusted with the attendance which this poor woman required, and the expense she occasioned, the unnatural daughter informed her unhappy parent that she would no longer support her; and suiting the action to the words, she immediately proceeded to turn her out of doors. Yet, as though to render a tacit homage to Jeanne's well-known benevolence, this wretched creature took her unfortunate mother before the door of Jeanne Jugan's house, and left her there. She was not mistaken in her anticipations. Jeanne received her.

In this way, the number of Jeanne's dependants increased from twelve to twenty, and finally the number of inmates was sixty-five-almost all infirm and aged persons of both sexes, many of them afflicted with incurable illnesses; and all rescued by Jeanne from the vices, degradation, and misery attendant on beggary-the only resource which was left them when she came to their aid, there being neither poor-houses nor poor-law in France.

Such a noble example was not without its effect. Three persons of Saint-Servan joined Jeanne, to assist her in gratuitously attending on the sick, as well as to help her in the necessary business of such a large establishment. A doctor volunteered his services, and furnished the requisite medicines: in short, Jeanne Jugan has founded a real hospital. It is needless to dwell on the immense benefit which Saint-Servan must derive from it; the fact speaks for itself. But this singular hospital is much more simply administered than any official one. Jeanne employs no supercilious overseers; nor is it necessary to go through dilatory forms and petitioning in order to obtain admittance. If she hears of any sick or distressed person, she immediately sees herself into the truth of the case; and on ascertaining it, has the individual forthwith transported to her house.

Such are the wonders achieved in less than six years by the

poor servant girl to whom, on the 11th of December 1845, the French Academy awarded a prize of three thousand francs (£120).

PIERRE BÉCARD.

PIERRE FRANCOIS JOSEPH BÉCARD was a servant in the household of the Marquis de Stinfort, a nobleman who lived towards the close of the last century, and resided in the town of Arras, in the north-eastern part of France. Among the many persons of rank who visited the marquis, a gentleman and lady named De Chavilhac were the most assiduous. Madame de Chavilhac, who was of a kind and amiable disposition, found opportunities of noticing Bécard's good conduct and respectful demeanour; she spoke of him with praise to his master, and was the indirect means of ameliorating his condition.

In the year 1793, at the epoch of the Revolution, the Marquis de Stinfort was imprisoned. Bécard showed himself a most de voted servant to his master; but this was a misfortune which he had no power of remedying. The atrocious Lebon was then master of Arras, and sent his victims to the guillotine with the sound of music. The marquis was condemned after a mock trial, and perished on the scaffold. In the meantime, Monsieur de Chavilhac had also become a prisoner, and in going to visit his master, Bécard had several times met Madame de Chavilhac. A sort of intimacy had thus sprung up between the lady and the servant, whose poverty and obscurity now proved his greatest blessing, since they insured his safety. Monsieur de Chavilhac was, however, fortunate enough to escape the guillotine; and although much reduced in fortune, he continued to reside in Arras with his wife, who entertained a grateful recollection of the sympathy Bécard had shown her. But soon after his master's death and Monsieur de Chavilhac's liberation, Bécard left his native town for Paris, and for many years neither he nor Madame de Chavilhac heard any more of one another.

In 1812 this lady became a widow, and by the death of her husband was left entirely destitute. Several large sums were due to him by government, and she came to Paris in the hope of recovering them. In this she unfortunately proved unsuccessful. The expenses of the journey and of her stay had exhausted her resources, and she was reduced to great misery, when she met Bécard, who was then a hawker in the streets, and nearly as poor as herself. Madame de Chavilhac, who was well acquainted with his honesty and native goodness of heart, did not endeavour to conceal from him the state of distress into which she had fallen; she, on the contrary, confided to him both the object of her journey and its unfortunate consequences, asking his advice and assistance. Bécard could give her little or no advice by which to regulate her conduct, but assisted her to the utmost

extent of his means, and that with a cheerfulness and delicacy which highly enhanced the value of the little he had it in his power to perform.

Grief and misery had impaired the health of Madame de Chavilhac; she soon fell into a very declining state; and all her resources being exhausted, she became wholly dependent on the charity of Bécard. Notwithstanding his own poverty, and the very slight claims she had on him, he could not bring himself to abandon her in this distress, but, moved with compassion, resolved to stand by her to the last. Well knowing that her pride would not allow her to do this, he applied, as though for himself, to those charitable establishments open to the Paris poor, and where, their names being inscribed on a register, they each receive either a certain sum monthly or an allowance of food. Bécard, with the delicacy of real charity, guessed that Madame de Chavilhac could never submit to the mortification of having her name thus publicly exposed; and although he was not without his own share of honest pride, yet, to spare her feelings, and afford her relief, he gladly consented to undergo the humiliation of asking and receiving alms. All that he reaped by this, however, was only a small portion of brown bread; but, unwilling to give this to Madame de Chavilhac, he ate it himself, and purchased some white bread for her. Nor was this all. He soon began to perceive that it was in vain to hope to support both her and himself by the little he earned, and which had proved barely sufficient for his own maintenance before he met her. One resource in this extremity alone remained, and this was to solicit alms in the streets. Bécard hesitated long; his very soul revolted from the idea; but the sight of the unhappy lady gave him the courage which might otherwise have failed him he became a beggar.

But with all his zeal, he found that he could not bear the humiliation for more than a short time. He was obliged to give up the attempt; and as his trade of a hawker had not proved sufficiently profitable, he resolved to try the world under a new aspect. By straining every nerve, he succeeded in setting up as a buyer and seller of old clothes; but although he walked about the streets for this purpose during the whole day, he made but little by this new trade, and that little was expended on Madame de Chavilhac. Yet Bécard, if not satisfied, was resigned to his fate. His hapless friend was not in absolute want; and though he had to endure the severest privations in order to live, he contrived to do so without having again recourse to mendicity.

Several years passed thus, during which Madame de Chavilhac had continued to be in the same precarious state of health, when, in the month of December 1822, she suddenly became much worse, and indeed was so ill, that even Bécard entertained slight hopes of her recovery. Before long, he was obliged to watch

by her bedside during the whole of the night, and, notwithstanding his fatigue and want of repose, to go out early in the morning in order to attend to his business; but, unwilling that the sick woman should remain alone during his absence, he prevailed on a female neighbour to attend to her wants in the daytime. Bécard himself would often call in during the course of the day, either to know how the patient was getting on, or to bring in some small sum of money wherewith to purchase the necessary medicines. And yet at this very time he was an infirm and asthmatic old man, himself in need of repose, and suffering under privations of every kind in order to relieve the hapless lady. His whole sustenance throughout the day was thin porridge. Yet, although he thus sacrificed everything for Madame de Chavilhac's comfort, he never uttered a murmur of complaint. When he spoke to her, it was always with the deep respect of a servant addressing his mistress. Her least commands he scrupulously obeyed; and notwithstanding that her temper had been considerably soured by her misfortunes and infirmities, he bore her unjust reproofs and caprices with a patience which could only spring from true Christian charity.

Ten days before her death, he found her so much worse, that, notwithstanding his own pressing wants, he resolved to remain entirely with her, and give up the little business by which he had hitherto supported himself. With the most heroic patience and devotedness he thus stayed with the unfortunate lady, soothing her last moments with the consolations of friendship and religion, until the acute sufferings she endured were terminated by death in the month of May 1823.

He who alone had watched by her in her agony, was also the only one who followed Madame de Chavilhac to the grave; and, faithful even to the dead, he fashioned with his own hands a wooden cross, such as marks every grave in Catholic countries, inscribing on it the name of her who, in the days of her riches and splendour, little deemed that the poor and obscure Bécard should be her last and only friend.

The very same year Bécard, who was pursuing his trade of seller of old clothes, was surprised by the announcement that the French Academy, having learned his conduct towards Madame de Chavilhac, had voted him one of the medals distributed that year. The sum he thus received was of the greatest use to him, enabling him to begin a small but more lucrative business than that he had hitherto followed, and in which he proved entirely successful.

EUSTACHE.

EUSTACHE, a poor negro slave, was born in the year 1773, on a plantation situated in the northern part of the island of St Domingo, and belonging to a rich proprietor named Monsieur