Saint Meinrad

The time to choose a state of life was also arriving for Meinrad; he resolved to dedicate himself to the service of the altars. Ordained a deacon in 821, and soon raised to the priesthood, he prepared himself for another vocation by reading the masters of the spiritual life, especially John Cassian. He was passionate about the lives of famous hermits and the first Desert Fathers. He e vie monastique Religious order occupying the monastery of Honnecourt. mbraced the monastic life in 822, at the age of twenty-five: his great-uncle Erlebad was then abbot of the Benedictines of Reichenau. He seemed perfect from his very first steps in this new path. He was, says a historian of his time, always ready to obey, severe in the practice of mortification, ardent in prayer, indefatigable in the exercise of charity, full of gentleness in his dealings with his neighbor, having a face that was always amiable, and offering in his whole exterior a sensible image of the joy, the calm, and the purity of his soul. To all these qualities he added an uncommon science, a profound knowledge of Holy Scripture, and an eloquence that charmed all those who could hear him.

In a letter addressed to the abbot of Reichenau, Charlemagne said to him: "To teach belles-lettres, one must choose men who have the will, the power to learn, and the desire to instruct others; for we desire that you be, as befits soldiers of the Church, pious within, learned without, uniting the purity of a holy life with the science of good language."

Such was Meinrad. Thus he was designated to instruct a numerous class of students. After giving the children the first notions of reading and writing, he placed the Holy Books in their hands, and explaining them with them, he found all sorts of instructions therein. He began with the books easiest to understand. Each student had to make a literal translation of them into German. In the higher classes, he taught philosophy. His most advanced students said to him one day: "Dear master, we have heard you repeat many times that philosophy is the science that teaches all virtues; that it is the only treasure that will never leave the one who possesses it in misery. Your words are for us a powerful encouragement, and we would like with all our heart to arrive at the possession of this treasure; but how to find it, how to reach it? Philosophy is so high, there are so many degrees to climb to approach it, and we are still so young, so weak that if you do not reach out your hand to us, we will never be able to succeed." — Meinrad answered them: "If you seek the truth for the love of truth, to please God, to enrich your soul and preserve its beauty, its purity, I repeat to you: it will be easy for you to follow the path that will lead you there; study, seek the truth for a noble goal, and not to obtain the glory of this world, a fleeting greatness, perishable riches, deceitful pleasures." Then he added: "We read in the book of Wisdom, that wisdom has built itself a temple with seven columns. By the seven columns, Solomon designated the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, or the seven sacraments of the Church, or even the seven liberal arts, for it is through them that young people are ennobled, that they become greater than princes and kings, and that they acquire an eternal glory. It is through them that the Fathers of the Church defended the faith, and that the doctors fought victoriously against all errors." Meinrad made a reputation for science just as he had one for holiness. The small monastery of Bollengen having asked the abbey of Reichenau for a distinguished professor, our Saint was chosen to occupy this chair, and the manner in which he discharged these new functions exceeded all expectations.

"However, the divine love that burned in his heart drew him toward solitude." These are the words of his historian, and they are very accurate; for the further one moves away from the world, the closer one draws to God. Bollengen was on the shores of Lake Zurich. Meinrad sighed for the mountains on the opposite bank. At a distance of two leagues down the lake, he saw Mount Etzel rising , covered mont Etzel Site of Meinrad's first eremitic retreat. with dark and thick forests. Often, from his cell, he would let his gaze wander greedily over this bluish horizon and over those peaks that offered him solitude. He retired there in the month of June 828, at the age of thirty-one, taking nothing with him but a mass book, a collection of instructions on the Gospel, the Rule of Saint Benedict, and the works of Cassian. The place where he settled was a high point from which he overlooked the entire country. "At his feet and before him, Lake Zurich, whose waters sparkled in the sun; behind him, the shadowy horror of the forest; further away, high blue and white mountains; then the glaciers losing themselves in the clouds, and finally around him a solemn silence, interrupted only by the distant cry of some wild animal or the sudden creaking of an old fir tree stirred by the wind." At first, he had for shelter only the thick branches of trees that he skillfully intertwined, and a kind of wall that he built with stones detached from the rocks. But a pious widow from Altendorf had a graceful hut and a small chapel built for him where he could offer the sacrifice of the Mass, and she attended to all his needs. He lived there for seven years as if in a paradise, conversing ceaselessly with God and the Angels. At the end of this time, he groaned to see that his solitude had become a pilgrimage; crowds flocked from all sides toward this man of God, who was affable, learned, and never refused good counsel. Behind the Etzel stretched an immense forest that seemed inaccessible; he resolved to hide his new dwelling there. He set off, therefore, having to accompany him and to carry his essential items, a religious from Bollengen and a peasant from the neighborhood. While descending toward the Sihl, which, after a thousand detours in the forest, flows gently into a pleasant valley, the brother noticed a raven's nest on a fir branch; he found two chicks there that Meinrad adopted as companions of his solitude. A few trunks and a few tree branches arranged by him in the form of a small hut, above the source of the river, served as his dwelling. Hedwig, abbess of a small community of women in Zurich, replacing the widow of Altendorf, provided for all the needs of the pious hermit.

It was the first time that the voice of a Christian prayed in this deserted valley. Now, it is known that since the fall of Adam, the cursed earth has been delivered to the demons whose empire yields only to that of Jesus Christ. As soon as Jesus appears, they flee, but with cries of rage. They therefore had to abandon this forest where Meinrad was introducing Christianity. But they first fought against him. One day when Meinrad was in prayer, their black band surrounded him, so thick that he could no longer see the light of the sun. They uttered the most terrible threats in his ears; they swirled around him and took on the most frightening poses; they assumed different forms, each more appalling than the last. They made such a din that it seemed as if the whole forest was about to collapse, that all the trees were being uprooted by an invisible hand and were going to crush the poor, defenseless hermit. He remained calm, intrepid, and prayed. Then an angel appeared with a radiant face, smiled at Meinrad, consoled him, and, with a single gesture, cast the evil spirits back into the abyss.

From that day on, the solitude of our Saint was doubly dear to him, since the Lord himself seemed to have consecrated it. His cell was in his eyes the most beautiful, the most pleasant dwelling in the world; it was a gate of heaven unknown to the rest of men. Whether he prostrated himself face to the ground to adore his sovereign Master, whether he walked in his narrow valley, given over to holy meditations, or whether he sat on the threshold of his hut, a pious book on his knees, while his two ravens played around him and came to rest familiarly on his shoulders, Meinrad was happy. Moreover, he exercised over nature the dominion of the Sovereign that the first man had before his fall. At the slightest sign of his hand, eagles and bears would run up to him full of gentleness, or withdraw so as not to disturb his prayers. In winter, when his hut was buried in snow and thick icicles blocked his door, the life that his soul drew from a close union with God radiated onto his body and warmed it. After this kind of night and sleep, with what joy he would go out to admire the power of God in the awakening of nature! With what happiness he united his thanksgiving to the hymn that every creature always sings, but more joyfully at that time, to its Creator. When the gray rocks of the Mythen and the glaciers of the Glarus Alps began to be illuminated by the first rays of the sun, when the damp leaves shivered under the morning breath, the voice of the solitary rose grave and holy in the silence; immediately the blackbird hidden in the firs, the finch perched on the top of the beeches, the robin swaying on the branch of the larch answered him, and while this pure concert rose toward heaven, every plant offered its perfumes, the forest incensed God with its balmy vapors.

This delightful retreat having finally been discovered, countless visitors flocked to Meinrad, who received them with his customary affability and offered them holy exhortations. He was overwhelmed with gifts, which he distributed to the poor who crowded to his door. Hildegard, daughter of Louis the German, having been appointed by her father as abbess of the monastery of Zurich in 833, and hearing the virtues of Meinrad praised, had a chapel built for him that remained standing until 1798. Meinrad consecrated this chapel to the Blessed Virgin, and having received from Hildegard a statue of this divine Mother, he placed it on the altar and instilled in every heart the veneration he held for this cherished image. It was not long before the most marvelous fruits were gathered from it. Miracles followed one another; extraordinary graces were granted to the pilgrims, so much so that the chapel was henceforth called the Place of Grace, and the statue of the Virgin the Miraculous Image. Such was the origin of the p ilgrimage of Our Lady o Notre-Dame-d'Einsiedeln Site of the monastery founded by Eberhard in Switzerland. f Einsiedeln, where for a thousand years so many vows, prayers, and tears have been offered to Mary. To make himself worthy of these heavenly favors, our Saint, not content with observing the law of God, practiced all the evangelical counsels and strove to make himself perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. These efforts brought him new favors, so that there was, as it were, a struggle of love between God and him. A religious from Reichenau, who had come to visit him, recounts that one night, having seen the little chapel illuminated by a sudden light, he had entered and perceived Meinrad kneeling on the steps of the altar, and beside him an angel supporting the prayer book and joining his voice to that of the Saint. The vigils, the continuous meditations, and the mortifications of every kind to which he surrendered himself had completely destroyed the old man within him; his very exterior had a certain celestial quality; one already believed they saw on his brow the halo of the elect: the moment to wear it more brilliantly in heaven had arrived.

For twenty-five years, Meinrad had been preparing for death in solitude. Two men, one born in the Grisons region named Peter, and the other born in Swabia named Richard, resolved to murder him to obtain his treasures, believing that he was hoarding the rich gifts he received daily instead of distributing them to the poor. They arranged to meet not far from Lake Zurich, at an inn in Endigen, where Rapperswil was later built, and they spent the night there.

At daybreak, they took the path to the Etzel and headed toward the dark forest. It was January 21, 861. For a long time, they wandered through the woods, for snow covered all the paths. However, the demon, who had inspired their fatal project, finally led them in front of the hermitage. At their approach, Meinrad's two ravens let out piercing cries, and as if they had a sense of the crime the two brigands were meditating, they began to flutter around the hut with all the signs of terror, so much so that the murderers, as they later confessed, were very surprised to see them and had a premonition that there was something marvelous and providential in this extraordinary behavior of the two animals.

However, the two assassins persisted in their plan and arrived at the door of the chapel. The day was already well advanced; the Saint, according to his pious custom, had spent a large part of the morning in prayers and meditations; he had celebrated Mass before the image of the Virgin, and God had revealed to him that the moment of his death had come; then he took the body of Jesus Christ as the viaticum of the dying and in a holy ecstasy, he thanked God for the grace He granted him, he commended himself to Mary and the Saints, then he prayed for his two murderers. The latter, meanwhile, were watching him through a crack in the partition. They knocked on the door, Meinrad rose, went to open it, received them with cordial kindness, and said to them: "My friends, if you had come sooner, you could have attended Holy Mass. Enter and pray to God and the Saints to bless you. Come into my cell, I will share with you the small provisions I still have; you will then accomplish the project that brought you to me."

The murderers entered the chapel for a few minutes; then, as if they feared seeing their victim escape, they rushed into the cell. Meinrad came to meet them, a smile on his lips, and offered them the frugal food he had available. Then, giving one his cloak and the other his tunic: "Receive this," he said to them, "as a souvenir of me, and when your designs are accomplished, you will take everything you want. I know that you have come to put me to death. When you have killed me, place these two candles that I have prepared on purpose, one at my head, the other at my feet, and flee as quickly as possible so as not to be arrested by those who come to see me and who would make you atone for your crime."

Insensitive to such kindness and charity, the monsters seized the Saint and struck him with repeated blows of a club on the head. Meinrad fell, still breathing; the murderers finished him off without pity. At the moment when the last breath left his bruised body, a perfume sweeter than the scent of incense spread throughout the cell, and this soul, so beautiful and so pure, carried on the wings of angels, soared into the bosom of the Most High, on January 21, 861.

Their crime completed, the two brigands stripped their victim of his clothes; they laid his corpse on a bed of dry grass in the corner of the cell, covered it with a coarse cloth and a reed mat; then, placing one of the candles at his head, they went to light the other from the lamp of the chapel, which always burned beside the altar. When they returned to the cell, the candle they had left unlit beside the corpse was lit and burning with a bright flame. A sudden fear seized them and they took flight precipitously.

The two faithful ravens set off in pursuit of them and filled the forest with their threatening cries. As if they had a mission to avenge the death of their benefactor, they swooped down on the heads of the murderers and tried to peck out their eyes. Still pursued and increasingly terrified, the men passed through Wollerau, where they met the carpenter who had been the first to visit Meinrad and who had maintained a very close and friendly relationship with him. The carpenter, recognizing the ravens of his spiritual father, sensed a misfortune, and while he urged his brother not to lose track of these two men fleeing before the ravens, he himself ran to the hermitage in the forest where he found the bloody corpse of the Saint. The candle that was burning at his feet had eventually set fire to the mat; but the flame stopped suddenly as soon as it reached the body. Recovering from his initial shock, the carpenter returned in great haste to Wollerau where he spread the news of the murder of Saint Meinrad. He instructed his wife and several of his friends to go and keep watch over the corpse, and he himself headed toward Zurich in pursuit of the assassins. He did not take long to find them; the furious cries of the two ravens, who were fluttering in front of the windows of a house and striking the panes with their beaks so that someone would open for them, indicated to him the place where the fugitives were hiding. He entered and immediately recognized the two assassins. In an instant, they were seized and handed over to justice. Their confessions revealed the circumstances that had preceded and accompanied the death of the Saint. Count Adalbert had them sentenced to death by the district courts. They were broken on the wheel and burned, and their ashes were thrown into the Limmat. The two ravens, after the execution of the murderers, resumed their flight toward the forest.

The abbey's coat of arms bears two ravens. The inn where the evildoers were captured took as its sign from that time on: At the Two Ravens. Only recently has it changed its historic name to that of Hotel Bilharz.

Two monks, sent by the Abbot of Reichenau, set about bringing the body of Saint Meinrad back to the monastery on the Island. But upon arriving on Mount Etzel, at the place where the Saint had lived for seven years, it was impossible for them to go any further; no one could lift the holy burden. It was then decided to deposit the heart of the Saint in the small chapel where he had once prayed; this done, his sacred body was piously and solemnly transported to Reichenau, where it was deposited in the great cathedral, in a chapel bui lt for Bennon Bishop of Metz who restored the hermitage of Meinrad. that purpose. In 906, Bennon, a prince of the blood of the kings of Burgundy and then a canon of the Strasbourg cathedral, having come on a pilgrimage to the place that Meinrad had sanctified, had his cell restored, established a community of hermits there, and worked to clear the forest. Thus, a part of this territory is still called Bennon, land of Bennon. Appointed Bishop of Metz in 926, he suffered violent persecutions for the sake of good; he even had his eyes put out. He returned to his dear hermitage in 929 and died there in 940. His Eberhard Provost of Strasbourg, founder of the regular convent of Einsiedeln. body was buried in front of the altar of the Virgin. Eberhard, grand provost of the chapter of Strasbourg, who had followed Bennon, bought the dark forest, established a regular convent of the Order of Saint Benedict there, and had a church built in which the Chapel of Our Lady was enclosed. In 1465, Prince-Abbot Gerold of Hohensax embellished the holy chapel with a vault supported by six stone pillars; in 1617, Marcus Sitticus, Bishop of Salzburg, made a vow to cover the entire chapel in marble. He died before the completion of this work, which was finished by his nephew, Count Gaspard of Hohenems.

The consecration of which we have spoken took place in 948. When Eberhard had built the church and the monastery of Meinradzelle (Meinrad's cloister), he beg ged Conrad, Bishop of Const Conrad, évêque de Constance Bishop of Constance and witness to the angelic consecration. ance, to come and consecrate the new church and the chapel.

The bishop arrived accompanied by Ulric, Bishop of Augsburg, and a great number of gentlemen and pilgrims. It was September 14, the day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. From midnight on that day, Conrad and the monks of the monastery were in prayer for the night office. While he was immersed in his holy meditations, the pontiff suddenly heard harmonious voices filling the nave with their sweet melody. He raised his eyes and caught sight of a choir of Angels; he noticed that they were singing precisely the hymns prescribed by the Church for solemn feasts and consecrations. Jesus Christ, divine Pontiff of the new covenant, dressed in violet vestments, was celebrating the dedicatory office at the altar. Around him were seen Saint Peter, Saint Gregory, Saint Augustine, Saint Stephen, and Saint Lawrence. Opposite the altar, on a throne shining with light, sat the august Queen of Heaven. The choir of Angels, continuing its chants, modified the text of the Sanctus as follows: "O God! whose holiness is revealed in the sanctuary of the glorious Virgin Mary, have mercy on us. Blessed be the Son of Mary, who descends here, He who reigns in the eternal ages." At the Agnus Dei, the voices repeated three times: "Lamb of God, have mercy on the living who believe in you, have mercy on us. Lamb of God, have mercy on the faithful departed who rest in holy hope, have mercy on us. Lamb of God, grant peace to the living and the dead who reign with you in the blessed eternity, grant us peace." At these words: The Lord be with you (Dominus vobiscum), the Angels replied: "The Lord is carried on the wings of the Seraphim, He penetrates the depths of the abyss."

However, the hours were passing, the time set for the consecration had long since passed, and the priests, monks, pilgrims, and a multitude of people who had flocked for this occasion were waiting with impatience and wondering why such a long delay. Bishop Conrad was still praying in the same place, lost in a religious ecstasy. Finally, they went to warn him, and they then heard from his mouth the account of what he had seen. At first, they thought he was under the illusion of a dream and urged him to begin the ceremonies of the consecration. But they had barely lined up at the foot of the altar when they heard a mysterious voice resound under the vault, which repeated three times: "Cease, my brother, cease: the chapel has been divinely consecrated." All those present prostrated themselves with their foreheads to the ground, and it was recognized that the vision of the holy bishop was indeed real and that the holy chapel was blessed, consecrated, and sanctified by Jesus Christ, assisted by his Saints and his Angels.

Conrad, an eyewitness to the miraculous intervention of heaven, and very worthy of belief in his affirmation, gave an account in various writings of everything that had happened. The calendars of Einsiedeln, dating back to the earliest times, all indicate for September 14 the feast of the Miraculous Consecration, celebrated each year with great pomp in memory of the first consecration. The people have kept for this feast the name Engelweihe "Angelic Consecration."

Sixteen years later, Conrad, Ulric, and many other princes and bishops, having accompanied the emperor on a trip to Rome, rendered, in the presence of Emperor Otto and his wife Adelaide, a solemn testimony to Pope Leo VIII of the miraculous event they had witnessed. They added t o their deposi pape Léon VIII Pope who confirmed the miracle of the angelic consecration. tion a written attestation that the sovereign Pontiff inserted into the bull of confirmation. This bull begins as follows: "We, Leo, etc., make known to all the faithful present and to come, children of the holy Church, that our venerated brother Conrad, Bishop of Constance, has attested to us in the presence of our dear son Emperor Otto, his wife Adelaide, and several other princes, that he had gone, in the year of Our Lord Jesus Christ 948, on September 14, to a place called the Hermitage of Meinrad, to consecrate there a church in honor of the incomparable Mother of God, ever Virgin..." Then follows the account of everything we have reported. The Pope then forbids any bishop to ever renew the consecration of the chapel.

This authentic confirmation was approved by the Sovereign Pontiffs who succeeded one another from Leo VIII to Pius VI.

The ecclesiastics and pilgrims who had been witnesses to the angelic consecration, upon returning to their countries, recounted what they had seen and heard. Thus, in the most distant lands, knowledge of the miracle spread; consequently, the crowd of pilgrims continued to increase, and the numerous graces obtained in the venerated sanctuary were a new proof that the Lord had cast his gaze of blessing upon the Hermitage of Meinrad.

We cannot recount all the miracles that, for a thousand years, have taken place at Our Lady of Einsiedeln. We shall report only three, which occurred in our time and in our France.

Abbé Ganeval, who kindly provided his care for the translation of the German work that we are summarizing, writes the following: My father, Claude-Alexis Ganeval, a merchant in Levier, the chief town of the canton in the department of Doubs, had exhausted all the resources of art to obtain the healing of Françoise-Caroline, the youngest of his daughters, aged three, who had been struck for two years with an incurable blindness. The eyes were totally dissolved. Having no more confidence than in Our Lady of the Hermits, he took up the pilgrim's staff at the end of March 1831. At the very hour he extended his suppliant hands toward the holy image, at five o'clock in the morning, the little blind girl awoke with eyes of remarkable beauty, which drew a crowd of visitors to her until her death, which occurred in 1843. Thousands of people can sign today to the truth of this miracle. We shall cite only one testimony, that of His Grace Monseigneur Caverot, Bishop of Saint-Dié.

Marie-Françoise Pétitot, born in Neuchâtel and living in a small hamlet of the parish of Pont-de-Roide, department of Doubs, had been, at the age of eleven, seized by such a violent fright that she had been left with a terrifying infirmity. Her feet, according to the expression of a woman who had accompanied her to Luxeuil and Bourbonne, were so tightly stuck to her thighs that a drop of water could not have passed through. In vain were the most enlightened cares lavished upon her; one could not restore the circulation of blood in her legs. To verify the fact, Dr. Marcou drove a pin into her flesh up to the head; the patient felt no sensation, and only a reddish water came from the wound. The paralysis could not have been more complete and resisted all the efforts of art. For thirty-two years, Françoise Pétitot had been thus chained by such a cruel infirmity in her bed or on a chair, which was her ordinary means of locomotion, as is the custom for small children. More than once she had sighed for the happiness of being part of those numerous bands of pilgrims who leave the mountains of the Doubs each year. Finally, her wish could be realized. On May 11, 1850, she set out in a small carriage pulled by a donkey and arrived under the walls of the abbey on the 18th, the eve of Pentecost. The next day, she had herself transported to the church to attend Holy Mass. Suddenly, at the moment of the elevation, she felt her legs gradually loosen and return to their normal state; immediately she stood up, then she prostrated herself again to give free course to her tears of thanksgiving. Mass finished, she returned to her hotel, supported by her two companions, because she no longer knew how to make use of a faculty of which she had remained deprived for so many years. This miracle recalls another with which it has a striking trait of resemblance, that of the healing of a paralytic at the gate of the temple of Jerusalem. We read in the book of the Acts of the Apostles that this man, seeing Saint Peter and Saint John going up to the temple, asked them for alms; Saint Peter said to him: Look at us; then he added: I have neither gold nor silver: but what I have, I give you: in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, rise up and walk. And, taking him by the right hand, he made him rise, and immediately he was strengthened in his feet: he leaped for joy and walked with his two benefactors into the temple, unable to contain the sentiments of his gratitude and praising the Most High. — However, Françoise Pétitot remained three more days at Einsiedeln, then she resumed, filled with joy, the road to her country. But the news of her healing had preceded her there; on May 29, the inhabitants of the commune walked for an hour to meet her, addressing hymns of thanksgiving to heaven with signs of the liveliest joy. Since that time, Françoise Pétitot comes each year before the holy chapel on the anniversary day of her miraculous healing. She has made her eleventh pilgrimage.

God did not permit the beginning of the thousandth anniversary of the feast of Saint Meinrad to be sterile in marvelous marks of the protection of Our Lady. This year of grace and Jubilee saw a healing of the same kind as the previous one, which is recounted in the following letter, written at Brunschofen, near Wyl, in the canton of Saint-Gall, and bearing the date of March 9, 1861.

It is singularly agreeable to me, my dear uncle, to have to communicate to you news that puts the whole country in joy. A child from Gail, Pancrace Schafhauser, aged about eight years, had been so ill for several months that he could not take a single step and was lying day and night on his bed of pain. His legs were bent, and he dragged himself painfully on his feet and hands. Human science confessed its impotence. A renowned doctor, Mr. W..., of Wyl, regarded the child's cruel infirmity as incurable. His parents, having lost all hope, offered their sacrifice to God and resigned themselves to the sorrow of always having a poor cripple before their eyes. However, someone in this family, a man of robust faith and great piety, living in Oberwangen, joined the brother and sister of the sick child as travel companions and went with them to Einsiedeln, crossing the Hornliberg, still covered in snow. All three addressed fervent prayers to Our Lady, approached the sacraments, and hung an ex-voto representing the sick child on the grilles of the holy chapel. It was Wednesday, March 6, at eight o'clock in the morning, that they accomplished this last act of devotion. At the same instant, at the same hour of that day, the child stood up, walked to the room of his mother, who had been bedridden for several days, and held out his hands to her, saying: "Mother, look, I can walk!" The joy was at its height in the house; the neighbors ran up, crying miracle.

In the afternoon, Dr. W... paid a visit to the mother; but what was his astonishment when he saw young Pancrace coming toward him, holding out his hand: "How," he exclaimed, "you can walk? It is incredible!" To those who told him of the intervention of the pilgrimage, he replied: "There, that teaches one to pray." Today the happy child attends school and shows himself assiduous at church, as before his illness.

Now, to give readers an idea of the crowd that flocks to this pilgrimage each year, we shall content ourselves with pointing out to them that, in the last three centuries, there have been counted on average, in the holy chapel of Einsiedeln, "one hundred and fifty thousand communions per year." This pilgrimage is served by a convent of Benedictines which is composed of ninety-seven members, including sixty-four priests, eighteen clerics, and fifteen lay brothers. The parish they administer is of about seven thousand souls, on the high plain of Einsiedeln, without counting several villages and hamlets scattered in the surroundings, and even up to the edge of Lake Zurich, on the shores of Lake Constance, and to the borders of Vorarlberg. About two hundred students receive an instruction as varied as it is solid in the monastery's college.

The Fathers are also charged with the administration of several convents of women located in the surroundings. But their greatest occupation is to administer the sacraments and to lavish pious exhortations upon this crowd of pilgrims who besiege them incessantly. May these few pages that we have been happy to dedicate to Saint Meinrad and to the sanctuary of Mary lead some faithful to the places where Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, Saint Nicholas of Flüe, Saint Charles Borromeo, Blessed Benedict Joseph Labre, and so many other servants of God have already knelt.

Saint Meinrad is represented assassinated in his cell; in the costume of a hermit and praying. — The monastery of Our Lady of the Hermits has placed, in its coat of arms, the two ravens that were companions of the Saint during his life and revealers of his tragic death.

For more details, we refer to the Life of Saint Meinrad, by the Rev. Fr. Dom Charles Brandes, which we have sometimes summarized and sometimes reproduced in its entirety.