on the very spot where Wolf and Montcalm had fought and died, and wept to
my heart's content on my irreparable degradation, and the degradation of
all the priests through the confessional.

At four o'clock in the afternoon I went back again to the house of my dear
dying Mary. The mother took me apart, and very politely said, "My dear Mr.
Chiniquy, do you not think that it is time that our dear child should
receive the last sacraments? She seemed to be much better this morning, and
we were full of hope; but she is now rapidly sinking. Please lose no time
in giving her the holy viaticum and the extreme unction."

I said, "Yes, Madam; let me pass a few minutes alone with our poor dear
child, that I may prepare her for the last sacraments."

When alone with her, I again fell on my knees, and, amidst torrents of
tears, I said, "Dear sister, it is my desire to give you the holy viaticum
and the extreme unction; but tell me, how can I dare to do a thing so
solemn against all the prohibitions of our holy Church? How can I give you
the holy communion without first giving you absolution? and how can I give
you absolution when you earnestly persist in telling me that you have
committed sins which you will never declare either to me or any other
confessor?

"You know that I cherish and respect you as if you were an angel sent to me
from heaven. You told me the other day that you blessed the day that you
first saw and knew me. I say the same thing. I bless the day that I have
known you; I bless every hour that I have passed by your bed of suffering;
I bless every tear which I have shed with you on your sins and on my own; I
bless every hour that we have passed together in looking to the wounds of
our beloved, dying Saviour; I bless you for having forgiven me your death!
for I know it, and I confess it a thousand times in the presence of God, I
have killed you, dear sister. But now I prefer a thousand times to die than
to say to you a word which would pain you in any way, or trouble the peace
of your soul. Please, my dear sister, tell me what I can and must do for
you in this solemn hour."

Calmly, and with a smile of joy, such as I had never seen before, nor have
seen since, she said, "I thank and bless you, dear father, for the parable
of the Prodigal Son, on which you preached a month ago. You have brought me
to the feet of the dear Saviour; there, I have found a peace and a joy
which surpass anything which human heart can feel