in a boat upon the river, though I had taken places in
the stage-coach, in order that, if they searched for me in the coach,
they might not find me. I went to Melun to wait for it there.

It was surprising that in this boat the child could not forbear making
crosses, employing a person to cut rushes for her to use for that
purpose. She then put around, and all over me, above three hundred of
them. I let her do it, and inwardly apprehended that it was not without
its meaning. I felt an interior certainty that I was going to meet with
crosses in abundance and that this child was sowing the cross for me to
reap it. Sister Garnier, who saw that they could not restrain her from
covering me with crosses, said to me, "What that child does appears to
be significant." Turning to the little girl, she said, "Give me some
crosses, too, my pretty pet." "No," she replied, "they are all for my
dear mother." Soon she gave her one to stop her importunity, then
continued putting more on me; after which she desired some
river-flowers, which floated on the water, to be given her. Braiding a
garland she put it on my head, and said to me, "After the cross you
shall be crowned." I admired all this in silence, and offered myself up
to the pure love of God, as a victim, free and willing to be sacrificed
to Him.

Some time before my departure, a particular friend, a true servant of
God, related to me a vision she had respecting me. "She saw my heart
surrounded with thorns; that our Lord appeared in it well pleased;
that, though the thorns seemed likely to tear it, yet, instead of doing
that, they only rendered it fairer, and our Lord's approbation the
stronger."

At Corbeil, (a little town on the river Seine, sixteen miles south of
Paris,) I met with the priest whom God had first made use of so
powerfully to draw me to His love. He approved of my design to leave
all for the Lord; but he thought I should not be well suited with the
New Catholics. He told me some things about them, to show that our
leadings were incompatible. He cautioned me not to let them know that I
walked in the inward path. If I did, I must expect nothing but
persecution from them. But it is in vain to contrive to hide, when God
sees it best for us to suffer, and when our wills are utterly resigned
to Him, and totally passed into His.

While at Paris I gave the New Catholics all the money I had. I reserved
not to myself a single penny, rejoicing to be poor after the examp