In the month of August, 1862, a young man aged twenty-nine, and who had been married several years, was dying of consumption. Vainly did his friends endeavor to turn his thoughts to eternity; every idea of religion seemed extinguished in his heart, and he positively refused to see the priest. A pious acquaintance informed the Sisters of his deplorable state; one of them went immediately to see him. She met with a cool reception, but was not the least disconcerted, and spoke to him very kindly, proposing to send him a physician, and adding, that she would supply all necessary medicines and nourishment. "I need neither doctors nor medicines," was the reply, "I am going to die, and I ask only that you will let me die in peace." His poor wife, who was present, holding their little child in her arms, said to him with tears: "Accept Sister's offer, and perhaps you will recover," but he made no answer; and the Sister now turning to his wife, endeavored to console her, by promising to send the doctor and return soon herself. The doctor came and met with no better reception. In a few days the Sister presented herself again, and was received as before, all her advances eliciting no response save a frigid silence; but naught discouraged, she returned day after day, though her reception was always the same. As the young man grew worse, the Sister's prayers increased, and she felt inspired to offer him a medal of the Immaculate Conception, still hoping that the good God would lead back to the fold, this poor strayed sheep. "I accept a medal!" he exclaimed vehemently, "and what do you wish me to do with it? It would suit my wife or child well enough, but as for myself, I want no medals!" The Sister withdrew from the contest for the time, but not discouraged, she returned to the charge next morning. "Ah," said she pleasantly, "you are going to take the medal to-day?" "You know what I told you yesterday," he answered, "besides, Sister, I am afraid of becoming imbued with your sentiments should I accept it, for I perceive that you are much more unhappy than I care about being." A ray of happiness illumined the Sister's countenance, for she knew that he who fears is already conquered. After plying her with questions about religion, he concluded thus: "After all, death will be a great relief to me; I have twice made an unsuccessful attempt at committing suicide. I suffer so much that I desire nothing but to die as soon possible." Next day, the Sister asked her Superioress to visit him and offer him the medal. She did so, and he not only accepted it, but at last consented to see the priest. When our Sister next saw him he was completely changed, and expressed his joy at the priest's visit, and his desire of seeing him soon again. "Sister," said he, "I am too miserable, I wish to