Blessed Pierre Fourier

No sooner was he of an age to study than he was sent to the University of Pont-à-Mousson, which was then very famous because of the learned masters who composed it and the multitude of students who flocked there from all parts: it was there that the young Pierre Fourier displayed to everyone's eyes the virtues he possessed and the penetration of his mind for the sciences.

He was of tall and majestic stature, had beautiful eyes, vermilion lips, and a face of lily-white complexion sown with the colors of the rose. These qualities exposed him to great dangers; but, firmly resolved to lose his life rather than his baptismal innocence, he took such good measures and persevered in remaining so modest, so recollected in the presence of his God, and so judicious in the choice he made of his companions, that he never gave the enemy of purity any hold over him: knowing that this entirely angelic virtue is a beautiful flower that is only well preserved in the midst of thorns, he joined the rigor of discipline to the good will with which he felt his heart sustained. He often left his ordinary bed during the night to go and take his rest on brushwood or boards. He denied himself the most permitted things, and when his parents provided him with conveniences to come and see them during the vacation time, he deprived himself of them through mortification, making his journeys on foot, despite the bad roads.

As he knew that, of all the senses, that of taste is the most to be feared, he accustomed himself from his youth to eat only once a day, around eight or nine o'clock in the evening, and used only very coarse food in small quantities. He did not know what the use of wine was, and he regretted all his life having once found himself in a small, innocent recreation that he called a debauchery, and in which he had been obliged to taste it. He approached the sacraments as often as he could. He took pleasure in serving Mass, which he did with angelic modesty. All his occupations were regulated, and he never missed the hours he had prescribed for himself for prayer or study, for that was what divided all the time of his day.

But there is a devotion for which the young Pierre especially had a particular attraction: it is trust in the Blessed Virgin, the Mother of the divine Savior, our mother to all. Every day he paid her his tribute of homage by piously going through the beads of his rosary, and he ceaselessly raised his heart toward her. At the college, he associated himself early, and with admirable fervor, with the Congregation of the Children of Mary; and from that time on, he never ceased to deploy his zeal, throughout his long career, for the glory of the Queen of Angels.

A way of life so wise and so regular gave this young student the opportunity to make great progress in the sciences. Besides the Latin language, which he knew very well, he also possessed Greek to such a degree of perfection that he read and understood easily, without interpreters, the most difficult authors who wrote in that language. He took singular pleasure in reading, in the original, the works of Saint Chrysostom, Saint Basil, Saint Gregory of Nazianzus, and other Fathers of the Church.

As he had as great talents for explaining well to others as for penetrating and understanding the sciences himself, his friends persuaded him to accept as his disciples several children of gentlemen and other persons of distinction, who would take a singular pleasure in receiving the lessons of such a good master. This employment, which obliged him to watch over the students entrusted to him, was for him like a trial run by which God was disposing him for the guidance of souls in the ways of grace. Nothing was better regulated than his house; every fault was punished by some penalty, just as extraordinary actions of virtue were never without reward; immodesties, of whatever kind they were, and lying were unbearable to him. One would have said that the place where he gave his instructions was more an academy of all virtues than a school where human sciences were taught.

Let us listen on this point to one of his pupils, Mr. Clément, who later became mayor of Lunéville: "The vices he especially held in horror were lying, blasphemy, and impurity. These last two had their effective punishment, and the body suffered for it. For lying, he had a method that he perhaps considered gentler, but of which we had more apprehension than of the whip and other school executions. Listen, he would tell us, since God allows for difference between men, you will surely allow me to put some there myself. My gentleman, for me, will not be the richest, the best dressed, the most noble; no, true nobility consists in virtue; and, therefore, the most virtuous will be my gentlemen, and the vicious will be my commoners; and, among the vicious, the liar will be the most common of all, because he is the child of the demon, father of lies, the first liar in the world. What a shame to be the child of such a father! God has placed him under the feet of the Angels; well! the liar will be under the feet of his fellow students; he will be the valet of all, will rise first, light the candle, make the fire, sweep the room, and serve his companions at the table, bareheaded." One can guess the progress that must have been made, both in science and in piety, by students thus directed, whose master was as capable as he was virtuous. Thus, the children who were entrusted to him never later lost any opportunity to testify their gratitude toward him; they loved to publish his virtues, and regarded as their greatest happiness that of having had him as a tutor and guide.

However, Pierre Fourier was thinking about a matter more serious than all others: the choice of a state of life. He did not feel born to live in the midst of the world; the shy and humble young man feared embarking on that stormy sea, so fertile in shipwrecks of all kinds. For a long time, he had been asking the Lord to make His will known to him, resolved as he was to follow it and to renounce everything rather than be unfaithful to Him. Finally decided, with the help of God's grace, the wise advice of his spiritual director, and the consent of his good father, to leave the world to enter into religion, it remained for him to choose the Order in which he should seek to sanctify himself.

All religious Orders have holiness as their goal; but God has different paths to guide souls, according to the character, taste, and temperament of each, or the diverse needs of society, and each of these paths leads to heaven. Lorraine was then covered with monasteries, those houses of retreat founded by the piety of our fathers and the munificence of those good and Catholic sovereigns, the hereditary Dukes of Lorraine and Bar. The ancient Orders of Saint Augustine and Saint Benedict, the apostolic Orders of Saint Dominic and Saint Francis of Assisi, the Carthusians of Saint Bruno, and the Premonstratensians of Saint Norbert counted numerous establishments in this country. A more recent company, full of life and future, the Society of Jesus, shone there with all its brilliance. Now, the most fervent Orders would have opened the doors of their monasteries to a young man as distinguished as Pierre Fourier was; but, by a resolution in which one can see nothing other than a secret inspiration of the Holy Spirit, who disposes all things according to His providential views, he determined himself for that of the Canons Regular, who had then fallen into a sad state of laxity. The Abbey of Chaumouzey, located five leagues from Mirecourt, near Épinal, then had as its abbot a religious of his acquaintance: he conceived the desire to retire there with him, and to consecrate himself there to the service of God, under the spiritual Rule of Saint Augustine.

This famous abbey had been created in the year 1094; Schérus of Épinal had been its founder and first abbot. For a long time, fervor had reigned there; but disorder had crept in, as it had in several other houses of the country, when Pierre Fourier presented himself. Thus, people were strangely surprised by his resolution; they almost went so far as to be scandalized by it. Perhaps, in his candid and naive innocence, the holy young man did not think that religious could be perverse: the pure and simple soul does not guess at evil, especially it does not guess at it in such high places.

It took all the virtue our young postulant possessed to endure the trials he had to undergo during the course of his probation and novitiate. But the pious servant of Jesus Christ had everything necessary to suffer with merit: the grace of God, a great desire to procure His glory, an extraordinary ardor for penance, a profound humility, and courage under any trial. He overcame the difficulties of the probation with the patience of an angel, and, towards the end of 1586, despite the remonstrances of his friends, he took the habit at Chaumouzey, to the astonishment of all those who had known him. The surprise increased even more when, after his year of novitiate, he was seen committing himself definitively to this community.

It was in 1587 that Fourier made his three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, into the hands of François Pâtissier, of Mirecourt, then Abbot of Chaumouzey. By the vow of poverty, he committed himself to possess nothing on earth, except the goodness of that Providence which clothes the flowers more magnificently than kings, and which gives their food to the little birds of the sky. By the vow of chastity, he renounced his body, to live from here below like the Angels. By the vow of obedience, he made the sacrifice of his own will, so as to conduct himself in all things only according to the will of God, manifested by his superiors.

The Abbot of Chaumouzey was one of those men of good intentions, who love the good, who groan at evil, who advise virtue, but who do not have the courage and strength necessary to impose its practice on their subordinates. However, struck by the virtues of his young and fervent religious, virtues which were not belied in any circumstance, and which held firm against the bad examples by which they were surrounded, he thought of having him raised to the priesthood. By his orders, the young religious had devoted himself, almost alone, and without any help other than the grace of God and his natural talents, to the study of theology, the essential science of the priest. It was a preparation for the course he was to take, later, in a broad and brilliant manner; however, from that moment, he was judged capable and worthy of the priesthood. The humble Fourier was frightened by such an elevation; but heaven came to his aid; he resigned himself through obedience, and he prepared himself, through a new fervor, to receive the Holy Spirit in abundance, on the day of his ordination. It is unknown when and how he received the tonsure, the minor orders, and the subdiaconate; but it was on September 24, 1588, that he was ordained a deacon, in the collegiate church of Saint-Siméon, in Trier, by the hands of Pierre, Bishop of Azotus, suffragan of the Archbishop of Trier. On February 25, 1589, he received, in the same place and from the hands of the same prelate, the order and sacred character of the priesthood. The Spirit of God had chosen for Himself a new apostle, whose zeal was to win a multitude of the elect for heaven.

The new priest did not dare to ascend to the altar so soon, to offer there the holy victim for the salvation of men: he retired into his harsh and dear solitude of Chaumouzey, to prepare himself for that august day when, for the first time, he would ascend to the altar of the Lord. He spent several months in penance, prayer, and tears; and it was only on the day of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, that great saint whom he seems to have taken as a model, that he celebrated the divine mysteries in the abbey chapel. The young priest continued, for more than another year, to edify, by an irreproachable conduct and by examples of extraordinary austerity, this house which had such great need of edification.

After having sanctified the retreat of Chaumouzey, Pierre Fourier was sent by his superior to complete his theology studies at the University of Pont-à-Mousson. If our young religious always showed a great inclination for the sciences, this appeared much more when he was applied to the study of theology, where he discovered truths much more noble and much more useful than those with which philosophy deals. He was animated in this school by the example of several subjects who were fortunately with him. He was also wonderfully helped by the care and good advice of the Rev. Fr. Jean Fourier, his relative, then rector of the university, and who later became provincial of Lorraine, then of Champagne, and finally of Lyon; he placed himself entirely under his direction. Could he have chosen better than this great master who had already so well formed the illustrious Francis de Sales, Bishop of François de Sales Bishop of Geneva who prophesied the vocation of Olier. Geneva, whose eminent holiness was already exciting public admiration? Pierre Fourier advanced with giant strides in the ways of perfection with such a good guide; his director himself was astonished to see the progress he was making in virtue, without his exercises of piety bringing any delay to his advancement in the sciences; he excelled above the others, and one took a singular pleasure in hearing him speak in the discussions, where one admired no less his wisdom and his modesty than the depth of the questions he debated and the clarity with which he explained himself. Although he had an extreme facility for conceiving the most difficult things, he was nevertheless very assiduous in study and faithful to filling the smallest moments of his time, which he managed like a precious balm of which one must not lose a single droplet knowingly, according to his own words.

The last year he spent at the University of Pont-à-Mousson, Pierre was for a moment raised on the candlestick. His talents and his high virtues had shone as far as the court of Nancy. The Cardinal of Lorraine, Bishop of Metz, wishing to attach him to himself, had the cure of Saint-Étienne of that city offered to him; but the humble religious refused. The bishop insisted, and wished at least to obtain him as administrator of the parish of Saint-Martin of Pont-à-Mousson, which depended on his episcopal jurisdiction. Powers were granted to him for this purpose, by letters patent of May 13, 1595, signed by a vicar general of the diocese. Father Fourier, however, did not exercise these functions for long; this parish enjoyed the happiness of possessing such a treasure for only a moment. At the end of three months, Pierre was suddenly recalled to his convent of Chaumouzey, by order of his abbot. The obedience of the religious is without limit: Fourier yielded to the orders of his superior; and we are going to see this vessel of election, this treasure of science and virtue, bury himself in solitude, to ripen even better under the wing of the Lord, at the school of contradictions.

After having well fortified himself in theology and having made a thorough study of the divine Scriptures and the holy Fathers, Pierre Fourier therefore returned to the abbey where he had made his profession. His design and the desire of his superiors was that he should re-establish there, as much as he could, the ancient regularity. It was not so much by powerful speeches, salutary advice, and frequent exhortations as by his own example that he worked at this great affair: so that, without speaking, criticizing, or complaining, he easily corrected everyone and opposed all bad customs. He observed a very strict abstinence and even deprived himself sometimes of necessary food to give it to the poor with the permission of his superiors; he ate only once a day, and a few vegetables and roots sufficed for his needs; he never drank anything but water and used it only in case of serious necessity. Always the first in the choir, he loved work, took pleasure in rendering all sorts of good offices to his brothers, and had more compassion than indignation for those he saw in disorder.

One admired above all in him a particular benevolence for the novices; he relieved and helped them in all their offices, even rose during the night to go and do the most arduous works that were their duty, took pleasure in the most humiliating actions, and observed an admirable secret in all his practices of piety.

It was not with impunity that Father Fourier led, in this monastery in decadence, such an exemplary life. Hell, not being able to support such a holy conduct, stirred up a horrible storm against him. Three or four of the least regular of the community, resolved not to suffer any longer that he should censure their life by the brilliance of his virtues, banded together to do him all the affronts they could and to plunge him wickedly into all sorts of confusion; they used for this purpose threats, insults, mockery, and intrigues, even to the point of overwhelming him with blows and attempting his life, seeking the means to extinguish this beautiful light, when it was beginning to be in a state to appear. They used poison several times, which they threw into the vessel where he was accustomed to prepare the vegetables he used for his food; but God, who only permitted all these persecutions to dispose his servant to sustain even more considerable labors in the future, knew well how to preserve him from all these dangers. The austere religious ate so little that the venom found at the bottom of the vessel was taken in too small a quantity to put his health in peril: Fourier was saved by his mortification.

Father Fourier lived thus, for two years, in the midst of contradictions, without being discouraged by the bad treatment, and without carrying the slightest complaint to his abbot, who seemed to ignore it until the end; he did not cease to redouble his patience, sweetness, and kindness toward his persecutors. Providence finally, tired of seeing its servant suffer, drew him, without his having asked for it, from this cruel servitude, to employ him for its glory. However secret a persecution may be, when it lasts a long time, something of it always leaks out. The parents and friends of Pierre were informed of the annoying and painful situation in which he found himself: perhaps they were warned by the abbot himself, who certainly could not have ignored it for long. It is the trait of weak men to turn around difficulties instead of overcoming them. Not having enough energy to bring his subordinates to reason, he at least removed the just man from the persecution of the wicked. Be that as it may, the moment of deliverance had come, and we see that his superior, far from putting the slightest obstacle in the way, lent himself to it with all his heart; he went further; as the humble Fourier represented that being ignorant, without virtue, and without experience, he was incapable of becoming a parish priest, the abbot gave him an express command to accept.

Father Fourier was offered the choice between three benefices: Mattaincourt, Saint-Martin of Pont-à-Mousson, and Nomeny. These last two parishes, then situated in the diocese of Metz, were offered by the cardinal, who had already once attempted, for his diocese, the conquest of our Blessed one, as one of the pearls of the University founded by his glorious father, Charles III. There was everything to gain on that side: the favors of a great bishop, prince of the ducal blood, apostolic legate; favors already acquired and which only needed to be maintained; a magnificent benefice, whatever the choice. Pont-à-Mousson still offered all its memories to the young student, to the licentiate in theology, to the once-loved administrator; he would find there old and dear friends, and above all Father Jean Fourier, whose good advice he could again put to profit. Nomeny presented a rich prebend, a post of the most honorable and peaceful, and an advantageously known family that cherished him. Ambition would never have let the balance tip to the side of Mattaincourt. It seems there was no need to deliberate: Fourier did not deliberate either. However, so as not to conclude anything without maturity and without counsel, he flew toward his father in God, toward his relative and faithful friend, the rector of Pont-à-Mousson. This worthy man spoke to him in a tone full of frankness: "If you desire," he said, "riches and honors, you must take Pont-à-Mousson or Nomeny; if you want to have much trouble and no temporal reward, that is what you will find at Mattaincourt." That was enough said, and Mattaincourt was chosen. This is how the Saints act: in everything and above all the glory of God; then the interest of the neighbor; they themselves only come after.

Mattaincourt Mattaincourt The saint's primary parish in the Vosges. is a beautiful village in the Vosges, situated in a pleasant valley watered by the Madon river, at the foot of hills fertile in wine and wheat, half a league above Mirecourt, the birthplace of Pierre Fourier. In those unfortunate times, it was rich only in temporal goods: Mass was heard only on the greatest feasts of the year; the sacraments were neglected, feast days profaned, the altars stripped, and the church deserted: throughout the neighborhood, this town was called little Geneva. It was, in fact, from the metropolis of Calvinism that the misfortunes of Mattaincourt came. The inhabitants of the village, having at that time for the most part no other means of subsistence than trade, took their lace and the cloth from their factories to Geneva: in exchange, they brought back gold, but also the fever of heresy, and Mattaincourt had ended up becoming the scandal of the region.

The new pastor had no sooner been charged with the care of this flock than he occupied himself very seriously with making an exact investigation of all its needs and the particular state of each of its members; he discovered, not without great compassion, that ignorance, voluptuousness, public libertinage, heresy, and atheism had taken deep root there; these disorders caused him astonishment, but he was not discouraged; he armed himself with holy zeal and perfect confidence in God. He took possession of his cure in the thirty-second year of his precious and holy life (1597), on the day of the feast of the Blessed Sacrament, which he carried in procession with a gravity and modesty that charmed everyone; he then gave his first sermon, in which he told his parishioners that, just as Jesus Christ gave Himself to men under the sacramental species, without seeking any interest other than the very good of those who receive Him in communion, so he gave himself to them that day, not for the honor or the advantages he might receive from it, but only for the salvation of their souls, which he was resolved to procure even if it should cost him his blood and his life. He expressed himself with such tender sentiments and such pathetic terms that he touched the hearts even of the most hardened, who shed a great abundance of tears.

He soon gave proof of what he had advanced; he never demanded anything from the poor as a reward for his labors, and what he received from the rich served only to provide liberality to those who were in need. His relatives were always the last to whom he rendered service: one of his brothers having believed, on a certain occasion, that he would receive some preference from him because he was his brother, he distanced him and had a simple parishioner advance, saying to the one who was his relative: "It is true that you are my brother and my closest by the flesh, but here is my child and the child of my spirit, who would accuse me of injustice before God if I did not love him more than you and if I did not give him the preference, today that he has recourse to me."

He invented an infinity of pious artifices to imprint Christian truths in the minds of those who were ignorant of them; besides public instructions, he went into the homes of individuals, where, having three or four families assemble, he taught them the precepts of the Gospel and instilled in them more vividly the principles of our salvation; he had general confessions made by those who needed them; work did not make him diminish or defer anything that seemed necessary to him. However touching his preaching was, the fruits he produced in the tribunal of penance were incomparably more considerable.

As he was preparing to take a curate to better watch over his flock, it was represented to him that he did not have enough income to associate an auxiliary in his work. "Frugality," he replied, "is a bank of great return." Indeed, it was in the treasures of abstinence and sobriety that he found the means to support his curate.

His zeal made him go find the libertines and the drunkards in the place of their debaucheries, to reproach them for their disorders; he also went to secretly seek out the impious and the hardened in their homes, to convince them of their blindness; he sometimes threw himself at their feet and watered them with his tears to soften their hearts, and conjured them, by what they held most dear, not to cause their pastor, who loved them tenderly, the pain of having been the father of the damned. When all these means did not succeed for him, he went to groan and shed tears at the foot of the altars, and there he formed loving complaints to Jesus Christ, as to the first of pastors, representing to Him the extreme misfortune of his sheep, who wished of their own free will to remain in the jaws of the wolves. "You are," he said to Jesus Christ, "the principal pastor, I am only your curate, and, allow me to say it to you, with all the humility of my heart, you are as if obliged to make succeed what is not in my power." Then, clothed with a zeal and a courage entirely new, he sometimes dared to take the Blessed Sacrament from the altar to carry it into the house of these hardened men, where, with a voice of thunder, following the example of a Saint Bernard with regard to a Duke of Aquitaine, he apostrophized them with as much authority and firmness as if he had had to conjure demons. He used these extraordinary means several times as the last remedies suitable for curing such sick people.

He never went to the feasts that were sometimes held after funerals nor to those of weddings, unless it was to give the blessing before the meal or to make some familiar exhortation against the excesses of eating and drinking. He accepted no gift: one of his parishioners having had a hogshead of wine put into his cellar by stealth, this sober pastor, who never used anything but water to satisfy his thirst when he was pressed, forgot that this hogshead had been given to him, and it was found full, all covered with spider webs, at the end of several years. One never lit a fire in his house, not even in the greatest cold of winter, unless charity obliged him to do so for the convenience of the poor. He asked one of his parishioners to do him the favor of baking his bread and his vegetables and, to reward him, he lodged him for free in a place that belonged to him. His mother-in-law having presented herself to live with him, in order to take care of his household, he replied to her, to dissuade her, that he would take care not to accept this offer, adding that it would be shameful for him to take his mother as his servant, and that the very laws of nature did not permit it. A bench a foot and a half wide was the ordinary place of his rest, and often he even spent the nights in the sweet sleep of contemplation, without going to bed.

His continual vigils gave him the means to be always ready to respond, both night and day, to the slightest needs of his parishioners. He never refused to go where he was called, in any weather and in any season. He was for this purpose continually clothed in his surplice and always had his breviary under his arm, to provide, he said, for the pressing necessities that could arrive in as large a parish as his was; one even saw him often, in the middle of winter, waiting at his door, to give his parishioners, who were passing by, a greater facility to expose their needs to him, and there, like a judge always favorable, he decided an infinity of difficulties that everyone proposed to him with perfect confidence and entire liberty.

After having satisfied the needs of his church, he went to see his sick, visited the schools, questioned the masters on the conduct they held, perfected their method, forbade them from ever receiving girls in their classes, and himself made catechisms and exhortations on all occasions. He gave all his income to the poor of his parish and often repeated to them that they should freely ask him for the things they needed, telling them that his property belonged to them; he assembled them twice a week and distributed bread to them for three days, observing to give them the whitest on Sunday and adding some pieces of meat and even wine, according to their necessity; he treated them with munificence on the days of the greatest feasts, and engaged those who were getting married to take care to have all the leftovers of their wedding feast preserved, to give, the following day, another feast to his poor, which would attract, he said, great blessings on their marriage.

He supported by his alms the artisans and the merchants in their misfortunes and thus compensated them for their losses, as much as he could. As charity is ingenious, Father Fourier advised, to raise up the innocent victims of fortune, the creation of a fund that he called the Saint-Èvre Fund. It was a sort of mutual insurance; this fund was composed of voluntary gifts, pious legacies, fines, and other windfalls. When one of these merchants found himself behind in his affairs, and his need was constant and manifest, one lent him a certain sum, to provide him with the means to continue his trade, on the sole condition of returning it, if it came to fructify in his hands. This establishment succeeded beyond expectatio ns; the Saint-Èvre F Bourse de Saint-Èvre Mutual insurance and credit institution established by the saint for his parishioners. und had so much success that, from the money reimbursed and collected in every other way, one could make a fund long dedicated to the same work. It is thus that more than two centuries ago, by an admirable institution, one of the saints of Christianity anticipated and practiced the most beautiful institutions of which our time is proud: savings banks and insurance companies. Father Fourier visited above all the "shamefaced poor," and, carrying them some well-filled purse, he slipped it adroitly into a place in their house where they could find it when he had left. He had the best meat from the butcher shop bought for the sick of his parish; he did not provide them only with the necessary, but also the pleasant, giving them the most exquisite jams he could find, and looking at them with the eyes of faith as very distinguished persons and as the principal members of the mystical body of Jesus Christ. He spent entire nights beside them, performing at once the office of pastor and that of guard or nurse, rendering them the most vile and disgusting services. He lent his bed to those who had none, and, one day, having lent by compassion, to one the blankets, to another the sheets, to another the straw mattress, and to a last one who still arrived the wood of the bed, he had a great satisfaction to see himself entirely deprived of it. The good curate took great care not to ask back what he had lent, giving it with a good heart to those who kept it; besides, he did not need such furniture, since he never used it.

One day when he was going to make a trip, he said to the mayor of the city that, if he died on the way, he should hasten to declare that all his property belonged to the poor, and take great care to distribute it to them; that, if he did not do it, God would punish him as for a theft and a sacrilege.

He had a particular gift for extinguishing dissensions and making the most inveterate divisions cease; he reconciled the parties who were in lawsuits; knowing perfectly well ecclesiastical law and civil law, having above all a good knowledge of customs, he was the first to support the cause of the poor, the widows, and the orphans against the strongest parties, and he undertook few lawsuits from which he did not remain victorious.

However, Father Fourier was meditating on an institution even broader and more useful to the public good than that of the Saint-Èvre Fund. He remembered having seen in his young age, at the bailiwick of the Vosges, a single lawyer, "who, under a market hall," says his historian, "cleared more affairs in one day than our formalities finish in a year." Reached at the age of maturity, he saw with a heavy heart the officers of justice multiplying, because the more numerous they became, the less the affairs felt the benefit, and the more one had to complain of frequent lawsuits and interminable length. His maxim, for him, was that of Saint Augustine: "No lawsuits, or finish them quickly." He conceived the design of an association, in which would be engaged the most noble and influential personages of the country. Two of them, accompanied by some lawyers and experts chosen from among upright and skillful people, were to work each week to finish amicably all the lawsuits and difficulties that had arisen in the jurisdiction of the bailiwick where they would have established their residence. If one of the parties refused to acquiesce to this amicable judgment, there was to be a common fund, in which one would take the money necessary for the pursuit of the lawsuit against the obstinate one, without the other party suffering from it in any way. Father Fourier had already drawn up the statutes of this association, he had sounded out the dispositions of the nobles and influential people of the country, among whom he enjoyed a reputation for wisdom that only eminent holiness can reconcile. The good curate had become then the man of Lorraine as much as the pastor of Mattaincourt. No doubt that he would have obtained the agreement of the princes of the country, who had in him an entire confidence and had vowed to him a friendship entirely fraternal. Unfortunately, the troubles and wars that occurred ruined at once both the hopes of his beautiful association and the country that was to reap its fruits. Was this not anticipating the establishment of our justices of the peace, by going further and doing even better, by the application of the fruitful principle of association, which would have given it an incalculable force? It is thus that by going back up the course of the ages, history shows us that everything that is beautiful and great in our current society has its source in a Christian thought.

Such beautiful conduct made the whole parish of Mattaincourt change its face in a few years. It became like a precious garden where all the Christian virtues came to bloom, by the wise regulation of morals that the fervent pastor of whom we speak introduced there; the use of the sacraments was very frequent there, married persons lived like brothers and sisters, several fasted on Fridays and Saturdays; a great number used the instruments of penance proper to the ancient anchorites; some commonly went to their work with the hair shirt or the cilice on their loins, and all had such a high esteem for their virtuous curate, who supported by his example everything he said in his exhortations, that they easily put into practice all the holy advice he gave them.

Things came to this point that those of the neighboring parishes, who previously fled from the inhabitants of Mattaincourt, came to admire with pleasure the great change that had operated in them; this is what made the bishop of the place say one day, that, to make his diocese one of the most flourishing of the Church, he would wish to have only five men similar to the vigilant pastor whose virtues we exalt; this prelate never tired of proposing him as a model to all the other curates. An ecclesiastic, who did not know well the rare merit of Father Fourier, being sent on behalf of the bishop to visit the diocese, recognized in the parish of Mattaincourt such a beautiful order in all things, such a great union between its inhabitants, so much decency in the celebration of the divine mysteries, a youth so well instructed, a people so modest, so pious, and rendering such good testimonies of its curate, that he was ravished with astonishment to have found in this parish what he had never seen and what he never believed could be found elsewhere; also, addressing this wise pastor, he asked him what classes he had followed: to which this great personage, who desired nothing so much as to hide himself, replied humbly that he had "studied in fourth grade," without explaining himself further. The ecclesiastic, reporting to the bishop the wonders he had seen in the parish of Mattaincourt, said that he was all the more surprised, as the curate had assured him that he had only done his fourth grade; which lent to laughter to all those who knew his profound erudition; one disabused the visitor to whom one pointed out that the humble pastor had indeed told him, out of modesty, that he had "studied in fourth grade," but not to the exclusion of other more advanced classes.

The prelates, his superiors, were all so well persuaded of the science and the exemplary virtue of this true servant of God, that they employed him several times for very famous missions, and even made him visitor of their dioceses, which he always acquitted with a singular vigilance and piety, and to the great contentment of the peoples, as well as of those who sent him.

These important duties of visiting dioceses, missions in neighboring countries, and other similar offices concerning the salvation of souls, compelled him to penetrate so deeply into the knowledge of the vices and the corruption of the morals of the people, that this memory caused him to shed an abundance of tears and heave a thousand sobs toward heaven. Considering all the disorders that had been encountered for so many years in Christianity, he frequently meditated on the means that could be brought to bear to diminish at least the number and the sequence of so many irregularities; he fasted, prayed, covered his body with hairshirts, chains, and cilices, and offered the holy sacrifice of the Mass every day, so that it might please the Father of lights to inspire him with what he had to do to work effectively on such a great task. He realized, therefore, in the fervor of his meditations, that it would be a thing very pleasing to God, and highly suitable to the end he proposed, to take possession of the youth as soon as they were capable of instruction, and to submit them to the direction of wise and pious persons, who, by training all the movements of the mind and heart of these young children from the earliest age, would thus form them in piety and preserve them from the common corruption of the century. He further persuaded himself that it would be necessary, to succeed well in this design, that there should be in the Church an Order whose principal office would be to thus form young children in virtue, without requiring anything from the parents for the instruction given to them. He wanted to attempt two works at once: one for the education of boys, the other for that of girls. But every work has its marked hour in the decrees of divine wisdom; it was reserved by it for the venerable de La Salle to institute the Brothers of the Christian Schools for boys. If the efforts of Pierre Fourier failed in this regard, he succeeded beyond his expectations for the girls' schools. What especially honors the blessed Father is to have anticipated by a long time all the foundations of teaching Orders: thus divining, in the heart of a country parish, the great need of his era, the true remedy for the evils that were devouring the Church and religion. The zealous servant of God, whose projects we are exposing, was thinking seriously about the execution of this work, when divine Providence sent him some intelligent young women who, touched by his exhortations and despising worldly vanities, came to declare to him that they were resolved to consecrate themselves to God and to offer themselves to His divine service, on the conditions and in such state as it would please him to mark out for them (1597).

The holy parish priest recognized in this step a stroke from heaven; he profited from the good will of these young women, instructed them, tested them in many ways and for a very long time, and formed them for the end he was meditating. He thanked God for having given him subjects to begin the work he was undertaking; and, being no longer troubled henceforth except for a dwelling, which he intended to convert into a monastery, Judith d'Apremont, sister of Esther d'Apremont, who was the mother of Mgr des Porcelets, Bishop of Toul, offered first her credit and her fortune and gave with great grace her house in Saint-Mihiel, which was very rich and situated in one of the most beautiful places in the city. It is this house that had the advantage and the glory of being the site of the first establishment of this Order. This beautiful donation soon engaged the Rev. Fr. de Mattaincourt to seek the means to obtain the necessary permissions from the bishops, who, as one can well imagine, could only approve with great pleasure a work so useful to the Church. He needed above all the approval of the Bishop of Verdun, in whose diocese Saint-Mihiel is situated; now, it was then Prince Eric, cousin of the reigning Duke. The good priest therefore went on foot, according to his custom, from Mattaincourt to Verdun, to solicit this favor. He simply explained the request, the provisional approval of the Bishop of Toul, the advances and the devotion of Madame d'Apremont, whose letters he delivered to him, and the good he hoped for from his pious young women for the instruction of the youth. The Bishop of Verdun welcomed him favorably and gave him a letter for Duke Charles III and another for the lady of Apremont. The good Father went from Verdun straight to Nancy, where, thanks to the recommendations of the prince-bishop, he was received very graciously. Rich at last from the harvest made in this small countryside, he hastened to return to tell his benefactress the news of his successes, while handing her the letters he had received for her.

The young women of Saint-Mihiel lived in an extremely austere manner, and much the same as they did when they were not yet gathered in this house; they ate only vegetables and dairy products, using a very brown bread and having only water for drink; sleeping on straw, wearing very rough hairshirts and cilices which they were the makers of themselves; manufacturing iron belts and very uncomfortable chains, with which they armed themselves against the attacks of the enemies of their pious designs. One admired with pleasure the fervor and generosity of these innocent young women, showing in the weakness of their sex a heroic strength, which seemed to be suitable only to the strongest men. God poured such abundant blessings on this little nascent flock that they produced admirable fruits in the instruction of the youth; so much so that the city of Nancy, which learned of their happy progress, did everything it could to have some of these admirable young women. The magistrates finally obtained several, and the functions they exercised wherever they were distributed appeared to be of such great help that the most eminent Charles of Lorraine, cardinal and legate, authorized this institute by his bulls. By virtue of these patents, the monastery that was established in Nancy was the first to receive the enclosure and whose young women pronounced the solemn vows of religion. The young women of Saint-Mihiel imitated their example, and these two houses were the model and the source of a great number of others, very famous, which were established in France, in almost all the cities of Lorraine, and in some of the Low Countries. So that the Reverend Father Pierre Fourier, the worthy founder of this new Order, was able to see, before his death, thirty-two beautiful monasteries solidly established, formed by his hand, and filled with very good subjects.

In the course of the year 1618, upon the repeated insistence of the Bishop of Toul, the establishment of Bar-le-Duc took place. God so blessed the labors of the pious young women in this city that in 1621, three years later, their house was erected into a monastery. Subsequently, it became one of the most flourishing of the Congregation, through the benefits of Madame du Jard, who showed herself to be its generous founder and who was its first superior. On December 2, of that same year, the day of the feast of Saint Francis Xavier, the first seven Mothers of the Institute of Notre-Dame made their profession in the monastery of Nancy. The novices of Saint-Mihiel and Châlons were summoned there to be witnesses to the commitment of their companions; but they did not make their profession there: it was judged that it was more suitable for them to make it each in their own house. The holy founder himself, by express commission of the Ordinary, had the happiness of receiving the vows of these first fruits of his Congregation, and these good young women were happy, in their turn, to place them in the venerated hands of their Father in God. Immediately after the ceremony, they proceeded to the first canonical election of a superior for the new monastery; the man of God presided over it again. The unanimo us concurrenc Alix Le Clerc Co-founder of the Congregation of Notre-Dame with Pierre Fourier. e of the votes fell on Mother Alix Le Clerc, who found herself obliged, despite her representations, to accept this charge for the space of three years, according to the constitutions of the Institute. First daughter of the good Father by her vocation, first religious of the Congregation of Notre-Dame by her vows, she was its first superior, under the name of Sister Thérèse of Jesus.

Mirecourt, the cradle of the holy founder, also wanted to enjoy the benefits of his institution. Several young women from the houses of Nancy, Châlons, and Bar came there to open a school in the month of September 1619; the following year, these good Sisters received help from the monastery of Saint-Mihiel, which lent them two of its teachers. Three or four Sisters left Nancy, the same year, for Épinal, where they arrived on the first day of the year 1620. This house owed its foundation to the benefits of the lady of Bagrone, canoness of the illustrious chapter of Remiremont, and of M. Pâtissier, abbot of Chaumouzey. In 1621, a house was founded in Dieuze, diocese of Metz, by three religious from Nancy, under the protection and through the benefits of Mme de la Ruelle. Her virtuous daughter, who was the true founder of this monastery, through the gift she made to it of her goods and her person, was then doing her novitiate in Nancy.

Although the establishment of this beautiful Congregation, which brought so much ornament and utility to the Church, might have satisfied the zeal of an Apostle less inflamed with love for the interests of God than was the Father of Mattaincourt, this admirable pastor nevertheless offered himself with all his heart to work for the much-needed Re form of the Order of Canons R Ordre des Chanoines réguliers Order under which Bertrand united his canons. egular, of which he was a member. Cardinals, legates, bishops, and several other prelates had already attempted, before the worthy reformer of whom we speak, to revive the ancient luster that belonged to this Order; they had employed for this purpose gentleness, threats, prayers, and even forces, both ecclesiastical and secular, suitable to this end, without anyone ever having succeeded, Heaven having reserved this beautiful work for the humble religious whom we praise. It was in the year 1621 that the reforming work began. Gregory XV sent a brief dated July 10 which authorized this undertaking; Mgr des Porcelets, Bishop of Toul, omitted nothing to make this pious design succeed, and, as he had full knowledge of the rich talents and rare virtues of the Father of Mattaincourt, he entrusted to him with full assurance the entire management of this much-desired Reform.

They were struggling to find a house to begin the work, when they were fortunately offered the old abbey of Saint-Remi, in Lunéville, to serve as a base for the edifice they wished to renew. They first found six good subjects, whom they drew from the old houses and the University of Pont-à-Mousson; entrusted to the care of the wise Father of Mattaincourt, who was established as their master, they first retired to the abbey of Sainte-Marie-Majeure, in the city of Pont-à-Mousson, of the Premonstratensian Order. After having made a retreat of a few months there, to attract the blessings of Heaven upon their enterprise, the six novices were solemnly clothed in the habit of the Order, on the day of the Purification of Our Lady, in the year 1623. Some time later, they retired to Lunéville, to begin their novitiate under the direction of the good master who was to form them for the noble end that was contemplated. An old professed member of the house, touched by the holiness of the examples he saw in these humble and fervent disciples, joined them in the novitiate. The Father of Mattaincourt taught them everything they needed to know and do, to serve as perfect models for those who would accept the Reform. The following year, they solemnly pronounced their vows, and made their profession on the day of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin, into the hands of the former prior of the monastery. God poured such abundant blessings upon this nascent enterprise that, in the space of four years, eight of the most considerable houses embraced the Reform.

The Pope having approved this new Congregation, the Reverend Father Nicolas Guinet, a man of singular merit, was elected General, and not the Father of Mattaincourt, who was not yet professed, and had only deferred to avoid this dignity. However, after the death of Father Guinet, the Blessed one was forced to accept these functions, despite all that his humility inspired him to do to be dispensed from them.

When the venerable Father Fourier was thus working with all imaginable success on this beautiful work, there was no ruse or malice that Hell did not devise to cause trouble and discontent for the one who was working for the destruction of its empire, in the establishment of two Orders, one of girls and the other of men, which had the goal of extinguishing all vices as much as possible, and making virtue reign in all hearts.

The demon openly attacked the Father of Mattaincourt, even at the altars, trying to distract him by all sorts of means; one sometimes saw the book he used at Mass close, without anyone touching it; but the holy priest, who was offering the sacrifice, clearly discovered where this effect proceeded from, since he would then apostrophize and drive away from him the evil spirit he saw in horrible forms.

What caused him the greatest pain was to learn that the demon, in hatred of all that he was doing in his new establishments, had taken possession of forty people in the village of Mattaincourt, of which he had been pastor, and that these people were the source of astonishing disorders in all the families and even in the parish church. The Father of Mattaincourt left all his affairs to go and help his former flock, who were always very dear to him, and to pull them from the jaws of the wolf that had seized them; he fought the enemy and triumphed over him through the use of fasts, prayers, continual groans before God, penances, and exorcisms.

When hard times came, Father Fourier failed neither his country nor his humanity. He first had recourse to prayer. To avert the wrath of God, which manifests itself through the scourges by which He tames men, is the act of every soul that lives by faith. He especially had recourse to the Blessed Virgin, and we see him establishing in his desolate parish, and propagating in the houses of his sons and daughters in Jesus Christ, devotion to the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Innumerable medals bearing these words: "Mary was conceived without sin," were distributed through his care: this devotion took hold of souls, consoled them, strengthened them, and worked wonders throughout the country. In France, the medal struck with this motto has hardly been widespread except for the last ten years, and as an insignia for members of the archconfraternity of Our Lady of Victories. In Lorraine, for more than two centuries, it has been in common use, and it is in the face of the sun that hundreds of thousands of congregants have worn it.

His charity extended to the needs of the body just as it had provided for those of the soul; he always found bread for those who were hungry, remedies for those suffering from illness, and clothing for those to whom poverty denied it. He did this not only in his parish, but in neighboring parishes, and far away for the multitudes of unfortunates with whom Lorraine was teeming. One would not be able to explain where he could draw such abundant resources, if one did not know that Providence has hidden treasures of which the Saints are the admirable stewards.

Alas! As a final bitterness, so as not to be ignorant of any of the sufferings of the heart, the Blessed Fourier saw himself forced to leave his desolate homeland: the faithful advisor to the Lorraine princes had to flee before the minister of Louis XIII, who wanted to seize his person. He chose as his place of exile Franche-Comté, then under the Spanish; but, before leaving, he wanted to visit the principal houses of men and women who served God under his Reform and his guidance in the cloisters; he strengthened them wonderfully against all future adversities.

Everyone on his route, priests, religious, and laypeople, hurried to see him, to admire him, and to try to have something that had served him: they cut his clothes, they gave him a thousand blessings, and the more he hid and fled from these testimonies of honor, the more he was sought after, the more he was surrounded on all sides. He consoled with his holy exhortations all the people who were in sadness, and procured health for the sick through miraculous cures.

Finally, in the year 1636, having arrived in Gray, in t Gray Place of exile and death of the saint in Franche-Comté. he County of Burgundy, he remained there for the space of two years in the thought that he would live there unknown; but his heroic virtues betraying him, as had happened everywhere else, he was honored in this city as in all the others; he rendered a thousand good offices there during the time of the plague, as much by his admirable exhortations and his catechisms as by the care he took of the sick in the hospitals. During his final years, he even taught school to the little children "as if to pay his share," says his historian, "to the compassionate city that had welcomed him."

He was still in the full exercise of all these good works when God wished to crown his labors.

Towards the middle of the month of October of the year 1640, the good Father felt the first attacks of the illness that led him to the tomb. It was a bout of fever, but at first too light for a soul of his mettle to pay attention to, especially for him to interrupt his work and take necessary rest. A second attack came after three days, and assailed him "with such a furious shock" that his approaching end had to be foreseen from then on. Our Blessed one had knowledge of this end; he had even announced it in a striking manner to his confreres. At the third attack, the good old man allowed a doctor to be called. The patient declared to him, before his religious, his whole thought: "Everything you do around me will be wasted time." However, in a spirit of obedience, he wanted to carry out all the doctors' orders; only, he saw with pain the expenses that were being made, and the extraordinary care that was being taken to relieve him. Full of the thought that he had to die, and that it was good for him to go to his God, he forbade any prayer for his recovery, as if such a prohibition could have been executed.

The illness worsened more and more. Feeling close to his end, the servant of God asked for the Sacraments of the Church, and he received them with the sentiments of the most fervent and edifying piety. At the moment when the divine Savior entered his poor room, the good Father, annihilated before His divine Majesty, cried out: "Lord, I am not worthy that You should come to me; no, I am not worthy, Lord! I should much rather be thrown into a dump, to be visited there by dogs and crows, than to have the honor of Your presence." It was necessary that a humility pushed to its ultimate limits find, to express itself, a language quite strange to human ears. Humility attracts grace; when the fertilizing rains descend from heaven, the deep valleys are flooded with them; the Blessed one felt his God fill the abyss of his nothingness, and he remained plunged in an immense ecstasy. Then, in the transport of his gratitude, the holy man cried out again: "What shall I render to You, O my God, in return for so many favors? Is it necessary, to please You, only to take in hand the chalice of my death? With a good heart, my God, with a good heart! Provided it be with Your grace." The entire day passed in these conversations of love and gratitude. It was the beautiful day, the much-loved day, of the Conception of Our Lady.

Despite the burning ardor of a fever that dried him to the bones, despite the continuity of his pains, despite his old age, the servant of God had, against all hope, prolonged his life until this feast, which he loved most among the feasts of his good and tender Mother, the august Mary. He regarded as a special favor this addition of life, which led him to such happiness. The following night and the day after, until nine o'clock in the evening, were spent in a sweet and tranquil confidence in the merciful goodness of God: all the terrors that had besieged him at first had vanished; he was perfectly delivered from them; fear had entirely given way to love.

Careful, more than ever, to make good use of the few hours that remained for him to live, he had the most beautiful passages of the Imitation read to him, which he called his golden book, and, conforming his heart to the meaning of the words, he believed, he hoped, he humbled himself, he prayed, he resigned himself; above all, he loved; his soul melted into ecstasies of charity. A disciple of Saint Augustine, he wanted to die as this holy doctor and pontiff had died; he asked that the story of his final moments be read to him, in order to imitate him. Like that illustrious bishop, he recited the Miserere, alternately with his good religious, amidst the tears and sobs of those present. He felt, in the depths of his heart, this colloquy of repentance and love, between the sinner and the God who was about to be his Judge. When he came to this verse: Ne projicias me a facie tua, "Lord, do not cast me away from Your face," he pronounced it with an accent to break the heart and with a burning ardor: one could fear, for an instant, that his soul, following the impulse of his voice, would detach itself from its mortal envelope, to fly before the face of his God, for whom he was thirsty.

At nine o'clock in the evening, he asked for Extreme Unction, and he received it in that perfect resignation to the will of the Lord, which is the seal of the elect. At eleven o'clock, he turned toward his weeping children and asked them in a dying voice: "What time is it?" Then, grasping his crucifix: "O Jesus, do not abandon me at the moment of my death!" Then, taking an image of Our Lady: "You know in whom I have always had confidence, O Mary, assist me." He then made three large signs of the cross over himself, and he entered into a sweet agony, which lasted only a few moments. His lips were still moving for prayer; one could distinguish from their movements those names he loved so much: Jesus! Mary! He finally expired without any effort; like a perfume that exhales, his soul flew gently from its bodily prison. He was in the seventy-sixth year of his age (December 9, 1640).

At the moment when his soul exhaled, one saw rising, above the house where his lifeless body lay, a globe of resplendent flame, which hovered for some time in the air and headed toward Lorraine. The soul of the holy man, before returning to God, took pleasure in visiting his beloved country one last time, this unfortunate country for which he was dying in exile.

The good Father had wanted to leave a testament in favor of his cherished children; but, like his spiritual ancestor Saint Augustine, the poor servant of Jesus Christ did not have, in terms of earthly goods, enough to form the subject of any legacy. His testament was therefore this: To the nuns of the Congregation of Notre-Dame, his very dear and beloved daughters, he bequeathed the constitutions of their Order, which were barely finished. Father Georges was charged with sending without delay, to the Sisters of Mirecourt, the copy written by his hand; these good daughters were to make five copies as soon as possible, and send them to the monasteries of Châlons, Saint-Mihiel, Bar, Pont-à-Mousson, and Metz, with the charge of communicating them to all the others. Such was the portion of the canonesses of Notre-Dame. The good founder also left his daughters pious and charming booklets, and a multitude of letters, where, as in a fertile source, they could draw the principles of the spiritual life. To his canons, the blessed reformer could only leave unfinished constitutions; but one could, by means of the admirable letters he had written to them, complete a work that so many setbacks had not allowed him to bring to its perfection.

The dawn of the next day sowed the news of this death everywhere. The whole city of Gray was covered in mourning; they wept there as at the passing of a common father, and from all sides these sad words resounded: "The Saint is no more!" The magistrates of the city came to testify their sorrow before his inanimate remains, and to mingle their tears with those of the sons and daughters of the Blessed one. They honored his passing as that of a prince of the earth, and the bells were rung as at the death of a king. Under the pallor of death, the noble and serene face of Pierre Fourier offered something celestial; he had all the appearances of innocence asleep in a peaceful slumber. An autopsy was performed on this venerated body. On the outside, it presented all the signs of rigorous penance. On the inside, the vital parts, the liver, the heart, the lungs, everything was perfectly healthy; they found a vesicle of blood, in which cloths were soaked; however, one particular thing struck the doctors extremely: despite the most meticulous searches, no trace of bile could be discovered. The entrails were extracted and buried, at the request of the magistrates, in the parish church, with a magnificent procession and a most solemn service, at the expense of the public treasury. A crowd of people, eager to contemplate the remains of the servant of God, hurried to collect some souvenir of him: some wanted a few drops of his blood; others a lock of his hair or a tuft of his beard; others had trimmed his toenails or fingernails; force had to be used to put an end to this kind of holy dilapidation. But, to remove these sacred remains from public veneration, a coffin was needed, and this poor priest had not left enough to provide for the expense: the young ladies of the city took up a collection to get him one, and this collection was so abundant that he had two, and magnificent ones: one of lead, the other of carved oak. The precious body where such a great soul had lodged was deposited there, and it was placed in a chapel of the church, while awaiting its translation.

Soon the news of this death spread far and wide; the princes of Lorraine took a large part in the common grief, and they expressed their regrets through their letters of condolence. The princesses considered themselves fortunate to possess, one his rosary, another his medal or some other object. Christian pulpits resounded with his praises.

For a long time, the children had been lamenting the long absence of their Father: unable to see him again and receive him alive, they were impatient to have him, at least, as death had left him to them. It was therefore a matter of transporting his mortal remains to Lorraine; but the city of Gray, the hospitable city, opposed it: it claimed to keep a treasure that Providence had sent it; it fought for six months to keep these precious remains, which it only yielded after vigorous resistance. However, in the month of April 1641, by an express order from the Spanish court and the regency of Brussels, an order solicited and obtained by Duke Charles, the magistrates of Gray consented to let the body of the Blessed one be taken away by his dear sons, the canons of Our Savior, who destined it for the seat of the generalate of their Order, in Pont-à-Mousson. However, they begged with such grace, and with such tender affection for the Father, that the children, to their great regret, consented to let the Comtois city keep the heart of the Saint. It had been kept separately: the canons left it as a testimony of their gratitude for the hospitality it had granted the venerable old man in his distress. This precious deposit was enclosed in a small vault, made expressly in the wall of the chapel, where the body had been kept for six months with love.

The passage of the coffin through the populations was a true triumphal march: from every village, a considerable crowd formed an escort; people ran to the remains of the poor religious as to a precious relic; the parish priests came at the head of their parishioners and accompanied it processionally. Wherever it passed, it had to be rested, at least for a few moments, in the church, to bequeath to each place the memory of its presence. Enthusiasm was pushed to the point of anticipating the judgment of the Holy See, to whom alone it belongs to bestow the honors of sainthood, and, instead of the mournful chant of the dead, the joyful hymn of the triumph of the confessors of Jesus Christ was made to resound in many places. Amidst these ovations, the revered body arrived, against the will of the canons, at the village of Mattaincourt. It is not known what combination of circumstances could have determined those who presided over this translation to pass through this place, through this former parish of the good Father, from which they had resolved in advance to turn away.

At the unexpected news of the arrival of their holy pastor, all the parishioners, with the parish priest at their head, had gone out processionally to meet him, a full league away, and had brought him back as if in triumph. The coffin was placed in the church, where he had prayed, where he had preached, where he had so many times glorified God! The religious, at the sight of the enthusiasm of the parish, began to fear for their dear treasure and they had decided to spend only one night in Mattaincourt. Their fear was well-founded: possessing their good pastor once again, albeit lifeless, the people of Mattaincourt resolved to keep him at any cost. What was the surprise of the poor canons the next day! They presented themselves at the church to remove the deposit they had entrusted to it the day before; but they had to begin again in Mattaincourt the trial sustained in Gray: the inhabitants refused to let the relics of their parish priest leave; they wanted to keep the ashes of their Father in their midst, and no one, they cried out, would ever be able to tear them away from them.

The good Fathers, all repentant for their clumsiness, protested against the violence done to them; but their words fell on insensitive rocks: they saw themselves forced to leave this dear deposit there. However, they did not consider themselves beaten: to take it from Gray, they had obtained a favorable order from the Spanish court; they would solicit against Mattaincourt an order from that of Lorraine. They flew to Épinal, to Duke Charles: on both sides, the cause was pleaded solemnly; the canons won, for the reason that he was their general, that he had as it were ceased to be the parish priest of Mattaincourt, that it was the canons who had followed the trial of Gray, and that it was they who had brought him back from Burgundy. Armed with this document, they presented themselves at Mattaincourt, they signified it to the commune, and asked that it be executed without contradiction. The men replied that they were in a disposition to obey the decree of His Highness, and that, out of respect for the authority of the prince, they would submit; but the women and children gathered on the tomb to guard the relics of their beloved pastor. Strong in their very weakness, even stronger in the weakness of their children, they pressed together in a very tight order. Armed force was used, it failed; they yielded before the admirable bearing of the heroic and Christian women of Mattaincourt: to them the honor of having kept the ashes of its protector for their country.

The body of the good Father, in its double coffin, remained, until the month of September, exposed in the middle of the church choir, on two trestles. Every day, it was covered with fresh flowers, which perfumed it with their scents; candles were lit there without interruption, and a silver lamp burned there continually in his honor. It was in no one's power to stop the enthusiastic ardor of the parishioners, nor to prevent the devotion of strangers, who thus anticipated the judgment of the Church. The influx of neighboring populations did not cease, and two or three hundred pilgrims flocked there on feast days. Finally, the two coffins were enclosed in a third; a grave was dug in the middle of the choir, under the great crucifix, in the very place designated by the good Father in advance; the body was deposited there, the earth was packed down, and the paving stone was replaced, without any inscription. Later, on an enormous tombstone, these two verses were engraved, the kind of wit of which one could hardly condemn, because the accent of tenderness makes itself felt there:

Hic, sine corde jacea, Pastor venerande! Tuorum, Ne tibi quid desit, corda fove tuis sinu.

"Here rest, beloved pastor, your revered remains, far from your heart which another land guards; so that nothing may be lacking there, open your bosom, and receive the sorrowful hearts of your children."

It is now time to go into the detail of a great number of healings and other operations deemed miraculous that he performed during his life or that others obtained after his death, by invoking him or by piously using something that had belonged to him: there are accounts of the dead raised, incurable diseases dissipated, fevers extinguished in a moment at the most violent height of their onset; persons suddenly delivered from the greatest perils by imploring the help of this heavenly man whom they had known. We shall content ourselves with citing a few of those most apt to edify the reader regarding the power of the Blessed one before God.

On the last day of the month of May 1620, God publicly declared, for the first time before men, the holiness of his servant. The good Father was returning in the evening to Mattaincourt, accompanied by the honorable M. Jennin, parish priest of Châlons. Children were playing at the edge of a well from which they were drawing water; at the sight of the priest of Châlons, who was unknown to them, they ran away, with the exception of a little girl who was trying to hold onto the bucket from which they were drawing water; but the bucket pulled her with it into the well. People shouted in the street: "To the water, to the water!" but they ran up slowly, argued about the means to retrieve the child, and made several useless attempts, so much so that when they finally found her, she was dead. The father of the poor little one, who was a shoemaker, ran up, found his child drowned, and went to throw himself at the feet of his good pastor, as if to ask him for his daughter back: "What shall I do, my Father," he cried, "what shall I do?" And the latter replied: "Pray to God, my son, pray to God." The child was carried to her father's house, the man of God returned to his room, prostrated himself before the Lord, shedding abundant tears with fervent prayers; after a few hours the little girl had returned to life; put to bed, she slept, and the next day she went to school. Thirty-six years later, she herself recounted her resurrection to the glory of God and to the praise of the Father of Mattaincourt.

Another time, Mattaincourt was witness to a prodigy perhaps even more astonishing. A poor servant had a terrible ailment in his knee, which reduced him to such an extremity that the doctors, to save his life, decided on amputation; the day was set, and the surgeons arrived. The good Father had run to the patient's side, and while waiting for the arrival of the operators, he had withdrawn to the side and begun to pray. When they had come, the holy man went to meet them: "Ah! gentlemen," he cried, "I beg you; defer your operation." They approached the young man. "Eh! why," added the good Father in a tone full of sweetness, "why cut off the leg of this poor boy? There is not so much harm!" The doctors begged him to look closely and to be convinced by his own eyes. They uncovered the patient's knee, the Father touched it lightly, and instantly the ailment disappeared, before the eyes of the surgeons, who stood motionless with admiration!

Reformed in a cloister in Lunéville, where he was occupied with his great reform of the Regular Canons, the parish priest of Mattaincourt, in the course of the month of August 1623, was suddenly summoned to Nancy by the alarmed ducal court. The young prince, who would later become Charles IV, sick with smallpox, was at death's door, and they begged the good Father to use his credit and his prayers before the sole Master of life. The news of such a distressing accident, and the peril in which such a precious child found himself, afflicted him greatly and made him put forth every effort to avert a fatal blow. He assembled his novices, publicly exposed the Holy Eucharist, invoked all the Saints of heaven by the chanting of litanies, and placed his beloved children in prayer; he wrote to his daughters, asking each of them for fervent prayers for the intention of the young prince. He, for his part, spent the night in the exercises of the most austere mortification. The next day, two of his novices, going to visit him early in the morning, found him very cheerful and his face all radiant. One of them took the liberty of telling him that he comforted them greatly by appearing so joyful: "Ah!" he said, "it is because he will not die!" This slip of the tongue made him blush extraordinarily; his forehead colored with a holy modesty, as if he had, by this word, betrayed his dear humility. It was about to be put to another test: the poor priest planned to make his trip to Nancy on a peasant's cart; but the court had provided for it; he had to endure the honors of a superb carriage. Arrived at the capital, he was brought before the prince's bed, who conceived, upon seeing him, such great confidence in his merits that he said to himself, like the woman in the Gospel: "If only I touch his garment, I shall be healed." The child gently reached out his hand and touched the robe of the good Father: from that moment, the illness ceased its ravages; the dying boy entered into convalescence, and soon he was completely restored. The news of this wonder spread far and wide, with the renown of the saint of Lorraine. Charles IV never forgot, thereafter, the one who was then his benefactor, and, despite his own wanderings, this prince always held him in profound veneration.

In 1630, an officer of the king, in Châlons, severely wounded in the right arm by a musket shot, had vainly turned to surgeons and doctors to obtain his healing. Despite the most assiduous care, he was seen to be in danger of losing his life; at the very least, his arm had to be amputated. At this news, the patient, a violent man, fell into a demonic fury; he began to blaspheme, to curse, to deny God; in his despair, he declared that he wanted to die and to die without confession. The nuns of Notre-Dame, having learned from the doctor the horrible state of this unfortunate man, gave him some object coming from their holy founder, and urged him to apply it to the patient's wound. The doctor, a man of faith, did as they desired; he gently urged his patient to place his trust in God, to count on the prayers that were going to be made for him, and to implore his healing through the merits of the Blessed Pierre Fourier, then he applied the precious specific and went away. Returning to him the next day, what was his astonishment to find him entirely changed, asking God for forgiveness and praying with all his heart! This man confessed, received communion devoutly; and his wound, upon which they had only applied the pious object, was perfectly healed. This officer, out of gratitude, devoted himself to the good Father of Mattaincourt for the rest of his life, and always, since then, he carried on him the precious relic to which he owed his salvation.

In 1663, a surgeon of Nancy, Pierre Poirot, was attacked by pleurisy which brought him to the gates of death; hoping for nothing more from the help of men, he turned to the Author of life, and prayed to Him, through the intercession of the venerable Fourier, to prolong his own. They placed on his head a cloth that had been in the use of the servant of God; he fell asleep peacefully, and, upon waking, he found himself in full health. Eight years later, in 1671, the same man was seized by an unknown ailment that swelled both his arms and his right leg, with intolerable pains; his tongue hardened and became covered with ulcers to the point that he could no longer say a word or swallow a drop of water. All human remedies were useless, and his desolate family expected to see him perish, for lack of breath and food. The patient thought again of the one who had once already restored his life; he swallowed, in a little broth, a hair of the good Father, cut into small pieces, and he was immediately radically healed.

In 1670, on October 17, two children, sons of Théodore de Huz, magistrate of Toul, crushed by a large barrel of wine that rolled over their bodies, no longer giving any sign of life, and abandoned by the doctors, were resurrected by the imposition of cloths soaked in the blood of the Blessed one: the next day they returned to the public schools and never felt any effects from this grave accident.

A shoemaker of the city of Mirecourt had a child, three years old, paralyzed in all his limbs; they had employed every imaginable means to relieve him; only the way of miracles remained. Faith made the parents of this little unfortunate one take it; they made a novena of prayers, and requested a mass in the church of Mattaincourt. On the last day of the novena, the child recovered the use of his limbs, and never thereafter did he feel any effects of this paralysis.

Two hundred and nine miracles were thus attested under the faith of an oath, during the process of the beatification of the Blessed Pierre Fourie r. Thus Pop Benoît XIII Pope who established the Institute as a religious Order in 1725. e Benedict XIII, by the Bull of January 10, 1730, declared him Blessed, and authorized the faithful to render him public worship.

Blessed Pierre Fourier is represented: 1st with the rochet, or better, the white cord worn as a sash, the insignia of the regular canons; 2nd distributing images of the Blessed Virgin and rosaries to little children to interest them in Christian doctrine.