On the 7th of June, 1853, the first Bishop of St. Boniface breathed his last, worn out by a life of toil and usefulness. His coadjutor received the sad tidings while making the pastoral visitation of the diocese. The stroke was a severe one, and it was with dread and mistrust in himself that Bishop Taché entered upon the office of titular bishop of an immense territory. Nevertheless, at the call of the new bishop zealous co-labourers came forth to share a high and holy mission. Colleges, convents and schools were founded, while those already existing were supported to a great extent by the generosity of the prelate himself, ever ready to endure the severest privations for the sake of his flock. At his request the Sisters of Charity opened an asylum for little orphan girls, while the orphan boys shared the lodgings and table of the bishop, until provision could be made for them. Missionary posts were established and extended three thousand miles distant from St. Boniface. The visitation of the diocese at necessary intervals became, for the Bishop of St. Boniface, an impossibility. In 1857, accordingly, the prelate made a voyage to Europe to obtain a coadjutor. The Rev. Father Grandin was appointed to this office. In 1860 the Bishop of St. Boniface undertook a long and trying journey to confer with his coadjutor at Isle à la Crosse, on the propriety of subdividing the diocese, and of proposing the Rev. Father Faraud for an episcopal charge. The plan was adopted and sanctioned by proper authority. The districts of Athabasca and Mackenzie became a Vicariate Apostolic, confided to the zeal of Monseigneur Faraud. Bishop Taché had to suffer more during that journey than can be easily imagined by those unacquainted with the climate and the mode of travelling in that country. From that time his health began to fail, but left his indomitable energy unimpaired, as was needed for the trials which awaited him in the not distant future. Alluding to the morning of the 14th of December, 1860, he writes as follows:--"We left our frosty bed at the early hour of one a.m. to continue our journey. We travelled until ten in the forenoon, and then halted to rest, and to partake of a little food. We found it almost impossible to kindle a fire; at last we partially succeeded. I sat beside the dying embers, cold and hungry and wearied; a peculiar sadness oppressed me. I was then nine hundred miles from St. Boniface." This sadness might have seemed a premonition of what was occurring at St. Boniface on the same day and at the same hour. The episcopal residence and the cathedral were in flames, and with them everything they contained was reduced to ashes. With what grief did the bishop witness the scene of destruction on his return after his painful journey! He writes as follows to the Bishop of Montreal:--"You may judge, my Lord, of my emotion when, on the 23rd of February, after a journey of fifty-four days in the depth of winter,