Louis XIV., after consummating his marriage at St. Jean de Luz, returned to Paris through this city, where he assisted at the divine office in St. Mary's Cathedral, and, in quality of Count of Armagnac, took his place in his exquisitely carved stall as chanoine honoraire.
The stronghold of the Armagnacs was long since laid low. Their very name and blood are lost in those of another race, and their lands given to another; but still in the green valley of the Algersius rise the gray walls of a remnant of St. Oren's abbey to propitiate the mercy of God in behalf of Count Bernard and his lady Emerina, and still for them and their posterity goes up from the nuns in choir the daily "Oremus pro benefactoribus nostris!"
Last evening I went to the cathedral to hear Hermann improvise upon the organ, or, I should say, Frère Augustin, for he is a barefooted Carmelite monk. He was the favorite pupil of Liszt, under whose instructions he became a celebrated musical artist and composer. He was miraculously converted at Paris some years since, by some particular emanation from the blessed sacrament, the full particulars of which he has never given. "Secretun meum mihi," he says, when speaking of it. He had gone to church, at the request of a Christian friend, to play on the organ. His conversion was succeeded by the desire of becoming a monk, that he might daily receive our Lord in the blessed sacrament, to which, from the first, he felt the most tender devotion. He now belongs to a monastery in Agen. You should have heard him last night, as I did, amid a crowd of all ranks. I do not enjoy music scientifically, but it gives expression to a thousand emotions and desires which are floating in the soul, and which the tongue knows not how to express. That of Hermann partakes of the enthusiasm and tenderness of his nature.
I stationed myself at the baptismal font, that I might see the frère as he came down from the tribune. He was dressed in the costume of his order, which is of the natural color of the wool. His cowl was thrown back. His head was shaven closely with the exception of a circlet of hair, as we see in pictures. He is an Israelite and his features are of the Jewish type, but not too strongly marked. His face was pale. In fact, he is out of health and on his way to a place of rest. His manner was refined but unpretending, and he seemed quite unconscious of the curiosity and interest displayed by the crowd. He is a poet as well as musician, and some of his cantiques in honor of the blessed sacrament are very beautiful, particularly the one entitled Quam dilecta Tabernacula Tua! I quote two verses from it:
"Ils ne sont plus les jours de larmes:
J'ai retrouvé la paix du coeur
Depuis que j'ai goûté les charmes
Des tabernacles du Seigneur!
"Trop long-temps, brebis fugitive,
Je m'eloignai du Bon Pasteur.
Aujourd'hui, colombe plaintive,
Il l'appelle—il m'ouvre Son Coeur!"
A friend sent me this morning a pamphlet containing the dedication of a collection of his hymns, which is a flame of love. I give you an extract, which is only the echo of my own heart:
"O adorable Jesus! as for me, whom thou hast led into solitude to speak to my heart—for me whose days and nights glide deliciously away in heavenly communications with thy adorable presence; between the remembrance of the communion of to-day and the hope of the communion of to-morrow, I embrace with transport the walls of my cherished cell, where nothing distracts my only thought from thee; where I breathe only love for thy divine sacrament. … If the church did not teach me that to contemplate thee in heaven is a still greater joy, I should never believe there could be more happiness than I experience in loving thee in the holy eucharist, and in receiving thee in my heart, so poor by nature but so rich through thy grace!"
To Be Concluded Next Month.