ose of his soul and prayed for Chopin's
soul. "My God," I cried, "if the soul of my brother Edward is
pleasing to thee, give me, this day, the soul of Frederic."

In double distress I then went to the melancholy abode of our
poor sick man.

I found him at breakfast, which was served as carefully as
ever, and after he had asked me to partake I said: "My friend,
today is the name day of my poor brother." "Oh, do not let us
speak of it!" he cried. "Dearest friend," I continued, "you
must give me something for my brother's name day." "What shall
I give you?" "Your soul." "Ah! I understand. Here it is; take
it!"

At these words unspeakable joy and anguish seized me. What
should I say to him? What should I do to restore his faith,
how not to lose instead of saving this beloved soul? How
should I begin to bring it back to God? I flung myself on my
knees, and after a moment of collecting my thoughts I cried in
the depths of my heart, "Draw it to Thee, Thyself, my God!"

Without saying a word I held out to our dear invalid the
crucifix. Rays of divine light, flames of divine fire,
streamed, I might say, visibly from the figure of the
crucified Saviour, and at once illumined the soul and kindled
the heart of Chopin. Burning tears streamed from his eyes. His
faith was once more revived, and with unspeakable fervor he
made his confession and received the Holy Supper. After the
blessed Viaticum, penetrated by the heavenly consecration
which the sacraments pour forth on pious souls, he asked for
Extreme Unction. He wished to pay lavishly the sacristan who
accompanied me, and when I remarked that the sum presented by
him was twenty times too much he replied, "Oh, no, for what I
have received is beyond price."

From this hour he was a saint. The death struggle began and
lasted four days. Patience, trust in God, even joyful
confidence, never left him, in spite of all his sufferings,
till the last breath. He was really happy, and called himself
happy. In the midst of the sharpest sufferings he expressed
only ecstatic joy, touching love of God, thankfulness that I
had led him back to God, contempt of the world and its good,
and a wish for a speedy death.

He blessed his friends, and when, after an apparently last
crisis, he saw himself surrounded by the crowd that day and
night filled his chamber, he asked me, "Why do they not pray?"
At these wo