lt against Charles
the Bald of France--a circumstance alluded to in our historical
sketch. He ravaged Poitou with sword and flame, but respected the
abbey of Saint-Florent, though, to insult Charles, he forced the monks
to place a statue of himself on their tower, with the face turned
defiantly toward France. During Nomenoe's absence the monks sent news
of his action to the hairless monarch, who tore down the statue and
erected a white stone figure "of ludicrous appearance," its mocking
face turned toward Brittany. In revenge Nomenoe burned Saint-Florent
to the ground and carried off the spoils to enrich the abbey of Redon.
The success of the Breton chief forced Charles to come to terms.
Nomenoe and his son, it was agreed, should assume the insignia of
royalty and hold Rennes, Nantes, and all Brittany.

Convoyon, as we have seen, benefited by the spoils won by the Breton
champion. Later, as his abbey at Redon was situated by a tidal river,
and was thus exposed to the ravages of the Normans, he and his monks
moved farther inland to Plelan. There he died and was buried, about
A.D. 868, but his body was afterward removed to Redon, where he had
lived and laboured so long. His relics were dispersed during the
troublous times of the Revolution.

_Tivisiau, the Shepherd Saint_

St Tivisiau, or, more correctly, Turiau, has a large parish, as,
although he was Bishop of Dol, we find him venerated as patron saint
as far west as Landivisiau. He belongs to the earlier half of the
seventh century, and, unlike most other Armorican ascetics, was of
Breton origin, his father, Lelian, and his mother, Mageen, being
graziers on the borders of the romantic and beautiful forest of
Broceliande. The young Tivisiau was set to watch the sheep, and as he
did so he steeped his soul in the beauty of the wonderful forest land
about him, and his thoughts formed themselves into lays, which he sang
as he tended his flock, for, like that other shepherd of old, King
David, his exquisite voice could clothe his beautiful thoughts. The
monastery of Balon stood near the lad's home, and often he would leave
his sheep in the wilderness and steal away to listen to the monks
chanting. Sometimes he joined in the service, and one day the Bishop
of Dol, paying a visit to this outlying portion of his diocese, heard
the sweet, clear notes of the boy's voice soaring above the lower
tones of the monks. Enthralled by its beauty, the Bishop made
inquiries as to who