Saint Sour

At that time, the history of our country presents us with Christianity definitively established for some years in the Gauls by the conversion of Clovis and the happy results of the Battle of Vouillé. Delivered from the terrors of Arianism which had been transported beyond the Pyrenees with the domination of the Goths, "the peoples rested," as Isaiah says, "in the beauty of peace and in tabernacles of confidence." Soon religious life absorbed all ideas, as in the first three centuries of the Church. On all sides, in the hollows of the rocks, in the dark depths of the woods, on the arid summits of the mountains, one saw pious hermits and holy anchorites establishing themselves, who formed disciples and thus preluded those religious foundations that the middle of the 6th century presents to us in such great numbers. The impulse and the example were given by members of the most prominent families of that era, by men who, stripping themselves of the grandeurs of the world, went to the desert to live a life of penance and self-denial.

Our Saint had reached the age that the ancients called *free* and which conferred approximately the same rights as the majority of our days. He nevertheless wished to have the consent of his father and mother, not believing himself, although the age and the laws of his country spoke in his favor, authorized to shake off the yoke of paternal authority, a sweet and delightful yoke that the well-born man always carries with the same pleasure, the same happiness, in mature age as in childhood, as long as he can say these two words, the sweetest to pronounce after those of Jesus and Mary: My father! My mother! He had, however, some difficulty in obtaining the requested consent, his father and mother having wished to test his vocation. They finally recognized, in his perseverance, the will of God and consented to his departure. "Go," they told him, "go to the desert where the voice of God calls you. When you are no longer here with us, His Providence will be the light of our eyes, the staff of our old age, the relief of our life."

Sour did not delay in informing his friend Cyprian of the consent of his father and mother, and, the divine love that pressed them suffering no delay, the two young predestined ones abandoned everything and left Auvergne, leaving to God the care of finding them an asylum where they might be permitted to live unknown and ignored by the world. God led them into the province of Périgord. While crossing the Limousin, they met Amand, who joined them, desirous like them to flee the world for solitude. They were soon Amand Spiritual advisor to Gertrude. united by a close friendship, and one could say, upon seeing them, what was said of the first Christians: "One heart, one soul."

Shortly after their arrival in Périgord, they entered the mona stery of Genouillac whe monastère de Genouillac The first monastery where Sour and his companions took the habit. re, after shaving their heads, they took the monk's habit. This monastery, whose existence is known only through the stay our three Saints made there, was then under the direction of an abbot by the name of Salan Salane Abbot of the monastery of Genouillac. e, who, as a writer from Périgord says, "led to perfection several holy monks who, from all sides, gathered to his holy pedagogy." The virtue of our young religious soon became noticeable there, and they became the object of the esteem and veneration of all. They were seen, ardent in mortification, chastising the members of their bodies to free them from earthly affections, and applying themselves to embellishing their souls with the charms of virtue. They made themselves agreeable to all, both by their works, which always had charity as their principle and end, and by their speech, seasoned with that spirit of amiable frankness and sweet cheerfulness that makes conversation charming. People were happy to see them, and happier still to hear them. They were distinguished above all by great humility. This beautiful virtue, the foundation and crowning of all perfection, they knew its full price, and their words, their acts, and their whole exterior reflected it so well that they appeared to be adorned with it as with a spiritual garment, just as the gentle dove is adorned with its white plumage, the lily with its brilliant whiteness, and the meadow with its greenery and the enamel of its thousand flowers.

But God did not destine our Saint to spend his whole life in a monastery. He had only led him with his two disciples to Genouillac to test him in the fire of monastic charity and to make him acquire, under the direction of the holy Abbot Salane, the difficult science of governing others. Moreover, this monastery did not offer him the solitude he had desired when leaving the world. Thus we see him, after a stay of three years, requesting from Abbot Salane the authorization to withdraw into the desert, to live there as Paul, Anthony, Hilarion, and so many other holy hermits had lived in the deserts of the Thebaid. But he would not leave alone. Friendship, which never cools in the hearts of the Saints, did not allow him to forget Amand and Cyprian; he communicated his plan to them. The solitude of a monastery was not the life they had wanted when leaving their parents and the comforts of the domestic hearth. They had indeed put their hand to the plow, but God could already reproach them for having looked behind them. It was to the desert that they must go, and there only would they find a solitude sufficiently intimate and retired. These considerations, which the Saint developed with all the vivacity of his faith and the enthusiasm of his love, were enough to reawaken in the hearts of his two friends the desire for the solitary life.

Their intention, upon leaving Genouillac, was not to separate, to live together, lending each other mutual aid and encouraging one another by reciprocal examples in a way of life so far above human strength. They first withdrew to a place still called today Peyre-Levade, taking it s name from Pepre-Levade A place of retreat marked by a druidic altar. a druidic altar that can be seen there. This place was well suited to the goal they proposed for themselves: withdrawal from the world and the recollection of the interior life. They found themselves on the plateau of a fairly high mountain; they had before their eyes, in this altar erected by their fathers, a proof of the gross errors of humanity when it is deprived of the light of faith; around them unfolded a vast horizon, an image, weak no doubt, but an image of the immensity of God; and their gaze, the very heart of the Saints caresses with pleasure the memories of the homeland, their gaze, when they were tired of contemplating the sky, could rest on the white mountains of Auvergne and Limousin. They built three cells there, like three tents on Tabor. They called there, by their fervent prayers and the singing of sacred hymns, Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, and Jesus who had told them to leave everything to follow Him was in their midst. It was for these seraphic souls the beginning of sovereign happiness.

But this place could not be so secluded that the radiance of the virtues of the three solitaries did not lead to their discovery. Moreover, God does not always permit

FEBRUARY 4TH.

holiness to hide under the veil of humility; it often enters into His designs that it be manifested to the eyes of the world for the instruction and example of all. Thus, the inhabitants of the neighboring regions soon came in crowds to Peyre-Levade, attracted, some by simple curiosity, others by the desire to be instructed or to be witnesses of the miracles that were performed there. The former implored the help of the prayers of the three hermits, the latter asked for the healing of some illness; one even saw those who proposed to imitate them and already declared themselves their disciples.

Saint Sour groaned in secret at all these obsessions of the crowd that distracted him from the predilections nurtured in his heart since his childhood. He knew that rarely in the midst of the tumult of men can one compose an assembly of angels, and he thought of fleeing even further from these places. One evening he opened up to his two friends and demonstrated to them the necessity, for the good of each, of a prompt separation. Why, indeed, did they leave the world, if they must live in the midst of the world and be occupied only with the things of the world? The very next day, they leave Peyre-Levade and go, in the direction of the setting sun, where the will of God would lead them. After a walk of several hours they stop and, whether from weariness, or because God, to favor our Saint, willed it so, Amand and Cyprien surrender to a deep sleep. Saint Sour takes advantage of this, and, rising, he goes right and left, exploring the country, to ensure if he will not find a place there where he can fix his dwelling. The Spirit of God was leading him. Soon there appears to his sight a site so rustic and secluded, that it does not appear that any mortal had ever set foot there. The Saint heads there and finds it most suitable, by its position, for the goal of the solitary life. Placed on the flank of a hill, this site was dominated and protected by a majestic rock of elevation, near which flowed a spring of living water which, flowing in small streams, maintained a gentle coolness there. At the bottom of the hill a vast plain unfolded, traversed at intervals by a river (the Vézère) poorly contained in its bed. At the sight of these places, the Saint falls to his knees, turns his gaze toward heaven and gives thanks to God. He then hastens to return to his brothers whom he finds still asleep, and who, not having noticed his departure, do not notice his return. They finally wake up, and exhort each other to the execution of their project. They talk about the sweetness of the heavenly homeland where they will meet again one day, and recall everything that can strengthen their faith and their desire for the sovereign happiness. Then having taken together the sacred eulogia, symbol of the charity that must unite them, although separated, they leave these places. Saint Sour heads toward the cave he has chosen. Saint Amand discovers not far from there a solitude that suits him and which has drawn from the stay he made there the name it still bears today, Saint-Amand-de-Coly. He was the founder there of a monastery which later became a famous abbey of regular canons of Saint Augustine. Saint Cyprien went further, he settled on the right bank of the Dordogne, in a place which, since then, has borne his name; he also built a monastery there which became a priory, possessed by the same regular canons of Saint Augustine.

- Having reached the desired retreat, Saint Sour prostrates himself, kisses with respect this earth where his dwelling must henceforth be, and cries out in the transport of his joy: "This is here forever the place of my rest; I will dwell here because I have chosen it".

We can fix the arrival of Saint Sour under the rocks of Terrasson in the period from 525 to 530, under the episcopate of Chronope II, bishop of Périgueux. His dwelling was at first at the foot of the rock. It was indeed a cave, as the legend expresses, but shallow. The solitary, in order to shelter himself from bad weather and the attacks of wild beasts, numerous in these forests, had to close the facade with tree branches, joined together by wicker stems. One still recognizes this first asylum of the Saint; piety has preserved for it the name of Grotte de Saint Sour. It is not very vast, but well ventilated, it would be easy to establish a fairly comfortable lodging there still. It is there that he lived for a few years a life entirely employed in prayer, in the mortification of the members of his body, by fasts, vigils, and the exercises of the most austere penance. A little bread and some coarse herbs formed all his food, and the water of the rock was his only drink; and even then he used these foods only once a day and in very small quantity: for he had only the fruit of his labor to live on, and he worked only to procure the absolute necessary, all his hours being, moreover, employed in prayer and contemplation.

But he could not hide himself for long in this way; his virtue betrayed him here as it had betrayed him at Peyre-Levade. The good odor of it soon spread, and the peoples of the neighboring regions flocked to his cave. He believed he had to escape their importunities by condemning himself to the life of a recluse. He sank into the hollow of the rock or into a cave made below the one he already occupied, and whose vault was so low that he could not stand upright in it. He had made himself a seat of poorly joined pieces of wood, on the back of which, at the height of the head, he had planted like a crown of large nails, whose points were to wake him, if it happened that he let himself be won over by sleep, during the time of his long meditations. He had arranged at the entrance of this second cell a small door that was only to open at night, when he went out to attend again to prayer, to admire "the glory of God that the heavens tell us", and to contemplate "the magnificence of the works of his hands that the firmament publishes". Near this door, he had made a small opening in the form of a window which brought him only obliquely the necessary light, and through which he received the food of each day.

This type of life was quite common in France, in the 6th century, and, Father Dupuy tells us, very practiced in the province of Périgord. When the Holy Spirit speaks to us of the bride of the Canticles, he represents her to us as a loving dove, hidden in the hollow of the rock. Indeed, love delights in solitude; there its ardor is more vivid, and nothing can distract it from the beloved object. If God wishes to communicate himself to a soul, to speak to it and to hear it, he takes it and leads it into a retired place, and only he who has experienced it understands what happens between God and that soul, but no mouth could express it. Thus we will not try to tell of the interior graces that flooded the soul of our Saint, the lights that he received during the few years of this absolute retreat.

Among the people most assiduous in visiting him, Saint Sour had distinguished two young men whom he had attached to his person as servants, or rather as disciples. One was called Bonitus, and the other Principi; they loved their good master and were loved by him; they were useful to him when he had condemned himself to the life of a recluse. Established in small caves near his cell, they provided him, through the alms they went to collect, with everything necessary for food and clothing, and fed themselves on the surplus of these alms. One day, not finding this food sufficient, they began to murmur; and the Saint, from the depths of his cell, hearing their complaints, said to them: "My little children, do not complain, do not murmur; the hand of God is all-powerful. He who, in the desert of Judea, fed five thousand people with five loaves and a few small fish, can well, in the new desert where we are, provide the necessary food for two of his servants." And having thus encouraged them, he began to pray. His prayer was not long; he had barely begun it when a magnificent stag, coming out of its thicket, bounded and rushed from the top of the mountain, and fell, its head shattered, motionless and lifeless, before the cell of the Saint. Seeing this, one of the servants ran in all haste to announce to his master what had just happened, and said to him: "Master, what must be done with the gift that God sends us?" On the orders of the Saint, the stag was skinned, and the flesh was distributed to the poor; the two servants could keep only what was necessary for the day's food. Saint Sour made himself a garment from the skin which he wore all his life, as a testimony of his gratitude towards the author of this benefit, and the sight of which awakened faith and confidence in the hearts of his disciples.

During his life as a recluse, the Saint gave a great example of self-denial that we must report here. His mother came to visit him, and having arrived at the door of his cell, she asked to speak to him, to see him. This news tore the heart of the austere recluse, but he understood at once that God was asking of him an example of the most perfect renunciation and the most absolute self-denial, and, despite the insistence of his mother, he refused to see her; neither her tears nor her complaints could sway him. Only a mother's heart could understand what the heart of this one must have suffered. — "What! my son," she said to him, "can nothing touch you? Do you not wish to grant this satisfaction to my old age?" — And she remained silent, as if she were waiting for the answer. But, while the son, recollected in the depths of his cell, said to God: "You are my father, you are my mother," the soul of the mother, strongly tempered in the fire of faith, had risen towards heaven to draw from it a great light and the strength for a great sacrifice. "Well then! my son," she cried out, — a beautiful triumph of faith over maternal love! — "Well then! my son, since I cannot see you on earth, you will not prevent me from seeing you in heaven; I will be there with you for the eternal reward." And, having pronounced these words, she withdrew. And the angel of God had to write that day in the book of life, a sublime sacrifice next to the name of the mother and next to the name of the son.

God, however, asked of our Saint something other than the austerities of the life of a solitary and a recluse. He manifested his will to him by the uselessness of the efforts he made to escape the obsessions of the crowd; for the more he hid, the more numerous they flocked, as they had done at Genouillac and Peyre-Levade, eager to see and hear him. And he meditated in the depths of his cell, and he thought he heard the voice of God ordering him, as formerly to Saint Peter, to descend from Tabor; and, after fourteen years of an austere reclusion, he finally decided to leave his retreat and show himself to the people to break for them the bread of the word that they claimed with such avidity.

From that moment, the gathering of those who came to see and hear him, finding no more obstacles, was increasingly numerous. For his part, the pious solitary neglected nothing that could ensure the spiritual good of those who came to visit him. He wanted them to be able to participate, in this place, in the sacred mysteries at the same time that they came there to be instructed. To this end, he set up an altar near his cell and added a priest to celebrate the holy sacrifice there and distribute to the people the Eucharistic food, which he himself, not being a priest, could not give them. Unable to fulfill any ministry other than that of the word, he performed it with all the zeal of an apostle, and when he had ceased speaking to the crowd, having satisfied all its requests, he would return to his cell, keep himself enclosed there out of respect and humility for the whole time of the sacrifice, and receive through the small window of which we have spoken, his share of the holy oblation.

The holy solitary began from then on to shine with brilliant signs; he restored sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to the mute, and healed all kinds of diseases. These miracles carried his reputation far and wide. People flocked to his cell, no longer only from the neighborhood, but from distant lands. He soon had numerous disciples who, following his example, renouncing the world, embraced his way of life and made themselves other cells next to his and along the rock. He organized them into a community and gave them as a rule, no doubt, that which he had practiced himself at the monastery of Genouillac.

At that time lived Gun tram, King of Burgundy, a Gontran, roi de Bourgogne King of Burgundy who welcomed Columbanus upon his arrival in Gaul. most powerful and holy king, entirely devoted to the practice of good works. And God, to purify him of his faults and increase his holiness, struck him with a hideous disease, leprosy, which covered his whole body. And this king, thus afflicted, prayed and asked God for his healing. And an angel appeared to him and said: "Arise and go in all haste to find the blessed Sour, in the land of Aquitaine, in the province of Périgord, a man powerful in works and in words; God has entrusted to him the care of healing you. You cannot keep any hope of recovering your health if you do not depart promptly to go to this servant of God." And the king arose and departed, and, after a long journey and great fatigue, he arrived at the cell of the Saint and prostrated himself. And he said, following the example of another king of ancient days: "My soul is as if attached to the earth; preserve my life, Lord, according to your word." And the Saint came out of his cell and, seeing the king prostrate, ordered him to rise, asking him the cause of such a long journey and who had indicated to him the place of his retreat. And the king answered him: "The angel of the Lord has spoken to me; it is not without having reflected well upon it that I have undertaken and made this journey. You see before you a man afflicted with a cruel disease; it is not necessary to ask him what he wants." And the Saint had water brought to him and blessed it, and, a new Elisha, in the presence of another Naaman, he ordered the king to wash himself in it. And the king obeyed, and, as he washed, his leprosy disappeared. There remained no trace of it, and in all his body, his flesh presented the freshness and grace of the flesh of a little child. He began then with all the people of his retinue, and did not tire of it, to celebrate the praises of the Lord and of Saint Sour, the faithful servant of God.

Soon after, the man of God had the steward of his small community called and ordered him to prepare a royal feast worthy of the guest that heaven had sent them. And the steward observed that he had neither wine nor the possibility of finding in the vines a single grape ripe enough to express its juice. And the Saint, always and entirely absorbed in the Lord: "What!" he cried, "has the hand of God become powerless?" And he said to the steward: "Go quickly, and in the small vineyard that you know, you will find three grapes ripe and full of juice, and you will bring them to me."

VIES DES SAINTS. — Tome II. 43

And the steward obeyed and he returned, bringing the three vermilion and well-ripened grapes. And then, his soul all filled with the spirit of God: "Go," added the Saint, "prepare all your other provisions, and bring me promptly three tuns." And the steward, accustomed to seeing the Saint perform miracles, hastened to do what was commanded and soon returned to announce that everything was ready. And Saint Sour said to him: "Take these three grapes that the goodness of God has given us, and express their juice into the three tuns that you have prepared; most certainly the Lord who, at the wedding at Cana, changed water into wine, will be favorable to us." These new orders were also executed, and the three tuns were found full of an exquisite wine.

It was immediately nothing but transports of joy. Struck successively by so many wonders, the king and the people of his retinue vied with each other in exalting the favor of Saint Sour and the praises of God. Then everyone prepared to take part in this feast that monastic charity was happy to offer to the royal majesty.

After his healing, Guntram remained a few days with the holy cenobite, praying and conferring with him, and receiving his advice with a great spirit of faith and humility. He wished, before his departure, to leave him a magnificent testimony of his gratitude, and he asked him to have built, not far from the place where he lived, a monastery for his religious and a Xenodochium or hospice in which he could receive the poor and travelers. Kings, when they recognize a benefit, can only do so as kings: with grandeur and magnificence. The asylum of the monks and that of the poor would be built at Guntram's expense, and this prince would create for them immense revenues and provide them with everything necessary for the well-being and growth of the disciples of his liberator.

The Xenodochium was built before the monastery, but with such proportions that it could be at the same time the asylum of the poor and travelers and the temporary dwelling of Saint Sour and his disciples. The monastery was only built later on the plateau where the abbey known as Saint-Sour was located. As soon as the Saint had left the rock to live with his disciples in the Xenodochium, a few dwellings grouped themselves around his new home, giving birth to a small town which took the name of the very place where it was founded, Terashôn, from two Gallic words Terash, path, and ôn, fountain, today Terrasson. The small town, so on taking Terrasson Site of the foundation of the monastery of Saint Sour. on a notable development, the Saint had to provide for its spiritual needs, and he laid the foundations of a church which he dedicated to Saint Julian, the famous martyr of Brioude, in Auvergne, and in which he wished to have an oratory dedicated to the Mother of God, under the title of Our Lady of Consolation.

In organizing his disciples into a community, Saint Sour took care to establish manual labor as the foundation, faithful to this maxim of the Fathers of Egypt: 'A monk who works is tempted by only one demon, but he who remains idle is tempted by an infinite number.' However, contrary to what one might believe, this work did not consist only of weaving mats and baskets, as was the custom of most monks and solitaries of the East. We owe to the labors of Saint Sour's disciples and the fortunate impetus they provided the clearing of our fertile hillsides, which were nothing but a thick and vast forest, and the draining of our plain, which was nothing but an unhealthy marsh. We can say that we 'reap today what the monks have sown, that we have entered into their labors and are gathering their fruits.' Let us be grateful.

If our Saint had needed encouragement to lead his disciples in the ways of perfection, he would have found powerful ones in his relations with Saint Yrier, who had founded and governed with great wisdom the Abbey of Ath ane in the saint Yrier Abbot of Athane who advised Saint Sour. diocese of Limoges on his own properties. The two saints could not remain unknown to each other for long. 'Learning,' says the legend, 'that Saint Sour had built a monastery and was living there with his disciples in the most faithful observance of the holy rules, Saint Yrier wrote him letters of consolation and encouragement, warning him to attach himself greatly to the things of God and to distrust the snares of the devil.' He always accompanied his letter with some gifts, which Saint Sour received with gratitude and for which he gave lively thanks to God. It was one time, for his monastery, a door embellished with rich horn ornaments; another time, it was the book of our holy Scriptures, written by his own hand; yet another time, he sent him young doves and other domestic birds to refresh his old age: for the Saints, however austere they may be, do not deny themselves an innocent recreation.

Saint Sour knew how to appreciate Saint Yrier; he recognized in him a high wisdom and a great intelligence, and, wishing to ensure that his disciples, after his death, would persevere in fidelity to the holy rules, he asked him to take, when he was no longer there, the direction of his monastery and to submit it to the Abbey of Saint-Michel in the city of Limoges. Hence, Saint Yrier is placed immediately after Saint Sour in the catalogue of the abbots of Terrasson.

However, many years had passed since Saint Sour, from a hermit living in the depths of a cave, had become the abbot of a monastery and the leader of a numerous society. He was full of days and virtues, and the end inevitable to every created being began to make itself felt in his body, weakened by penances and macerations, and warned his soul, beloved of God, that the moment had finally come to break the bonds of the earthly prison to go and enjoy the joys of heaven. God wished to favor his servant like many other saints; he made known to him by a particular revelation the day and hour of his death. Such a revelation could only be agreeable to him; for so long he had sighed after the dissolution of his body to be reunited with Jesus Christ! He therefore gathered his disciples and told them of his approaching end, speaking to them in terms that left no doubt about the joy with which his soul was filled. He was soon seized by a violent fever, the progress of which soon foretold an approaching end. But, the more the body weakened under the fire that devoured it, the more the soul acquired vigor and united itself intimately with God, the object of its love. Thus, the pious dying man did not delay in asking that the viaticum of the traveler toward eternity be brought to him, and that his body be anointed with holy oil for the great combat that the Christian athlete was about to sustain. Then, borrowing the language of the Holy Books with which he was so familiar: "Alas!" he cried, "how long my exile has been! How lovely are your tabernacles, O Lord! When shall I be able to rest there?" And, seeing his brothers in pain and consternation, he consoled them with a few sweet words, then he bade them his final farewells in a last blessing that testified both to his tender charity for them and to his great confidence in God. He had ceased to speak, and suddenly a brilliant light, coming from the side of the Orient, filled the cell of the dying monk, fluttered around his head, and left in all hearts something like an exhalation of the most sweet odor. — The soul of the Saint was in heaven. God wished to prove, by an end favored with such a prodigy, how agreeable the life of this faithful servant had been to him, and how precious his death was in his eyes.

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We have found by the deathbed of our Saint his two friends, Saint Amand and Saint Cyprien. It is to be presumed that after having known by a special revelation the day and hour of his death, he had shared it with them and invited them to come and see him, wishing to be encouraged by their presence in such a solemn moment. And Saint Amand and Saint Cyprien had hastened to run, and they were there contemplating with admiration their venerable friend, edified by his patience, his gentleness, his humility. And, when it was necessary to proceed to his funeral, which attracted a great concourse of people, they did not wish to leave to others the care of rendering him the last duty. They themselves buried his body, which they looked upon and touched only with holy veneration, and which was interred, in the presence of all the religious and the people, in the church that he himself had built and dedicated to Saint Julien.

We can fix the date of the death of Saint Sour in the year 580, on the first day of the month of February; it is the day on which the dioceses of Périgueux, Limoges, and Sarlat have always celebrated his feast. He was eighty years old, having been born in the first year of this 6th century, having lived about sixty years since his departure from Auvergne and his entry into the monastery of Genouillac, and fifty, or thereabouts, since the beginning of his eremitic life.

## CULT AND RELICS OF SAINT SOUR.

The tributes paid throughout the centuries to the holiness of the servant of God whose life we have just sketched began in Terrasson on the very day of his death, which a mysterious light declared precious in the eyes of God. The people, whose *in voce populi est vox Dei*—the voice of the people is the voice of God—was the only mode of canonization in these early centuries of the Church, struck by the brilliance of his virtues and the miracles performed during his life and renewed at his tomb, the people began from that moment to venerate him as a saint. They addressed prayers to him, and God, by answering them, testified that the tributes paid to the holiness of his servant were pleasing to Him. It is probable that from that moment, or at least a few years later, the cult of Saint Sour became public and common to the whole region. There must have been every year, on the anniversary of his death, a great gathering of people around his tomb. We still have an incontestable testimony of this in the fair known as Saint-Sour, so famous throughout the country, which takes place on the first day of February. It carries with it a religious character that it is impossible not to recognize, and we find its origin in the annual gathering of pilgrims around the tomb of Saint Sour. Unable to go into details, we will say as the legendary does: "Often Our Lord Jesus Christ was pleased to manifest by miracles performed near this tomb how much He had a predilection for his servant. The limits imposed on this brief account of his life do not allow us to recount in detail how many blind people he restored to sight, how many lame, paralyzed, and others afflicted with various diseases recovered their health near this tomb. The pious pilgrims have never left without having to give thanks for some benefit obtained through his powerful intercession."

But if, throughout the centuries, our Saint has been honored by the piety of the faithful, a traditional and often renewed fact demonstrates to us that in Terrasson and throughout the region, he has been more especially regarded as the benefactor of the country, watching, from the heights of heaven, over the fertility of these lands, formerly cleared by his hands and by the hands of his disciples, and that he has been more particularly invoked in times of drought, to obtain through his intercession the blessing of rain. Three processions are held for this purpose; the relics of the Saint are carried triumphantly, and it is then that his cult acquires a pomp and solemnity that recall the most beautiful days of the piety and religious demonstrations of the Middle Ages.

We cannot specify the time of the elevation of the body of Saint Sour; but it probably took place only many years after his death, when the monastery begun during his lifetime was completed, and the monks, his disciples, wished to have the remains of their holy founder in the magnificent church they had consecrated to him. Historical documents allow us to state that they never ceased to be its possessors and guardians until 1789. The monks having been suppressed at that time, the parish of Terrasson inherited their magnificent church and the relics of Saint Sour. It preserves them religiously, enclosed in a 15th-century reliquary, richly carved. The auth enticity of these re châsse du XVe siècle Sculpted shrine containing the saint's relics in Terrasson. lics cannot be doubted; it flows naturally from a public possession, uninterrupted from the death of the Saint to our days. Saint Sour lived in Terrasson, he died there, and his relics have not ceased to be honored there. We know how they were preserved, how they reached us; there cannot be a more certain authenticity. We bless the Lord for having preserved for our church this precious treasure, these venerated bones which, after thirteen centuries, retaining the breath of the Spirit of God, speak and prophesy as on the first day, before which the people love today, as they loved in the past, as they always love, to kneel and pray.

We wish, in concluding this sketch, not to forget a very touching testimony of the cult that has always been rendered to Saint Sour and his relics. This testimony, we take from the pure source of true traditions, from the lips of the people, from those lips that do not utter falsehood, but that speak from the abundant simplicity of the heart: it is the naive qualification of "good" that the people always join to the qualification of "saint" when they speak of this patron saint. They say: the good Saint Sour. This way of expressing oneself can only come from the habit of honoring and praying to the Saint, and from the habit of having been promptly answered when one has honored and prayed to him.

The good Saint Sour! Therein lies the entire panegyric of our Saint, the most sublime and the truest panegyric.

Abbé Pergot, parish priest-dean of Terrasson.