he was awaiting an opportunity to return to his vicariate, he wrote to his relatives an account of his sufferings and imprisonment. No doubt the readers of the MESSENGER will be interested in the narration of the holy Bishop.

"I had been a few months in Corea," writes Mgr. Bidel, "during which time all had gone on well and peacefully. The missionaries traversed the country, and visited the Christians who came in crowds to the sacraments. I had built a school, and had already some pupils. I had also bought a house, in which we were going to open a printing press, and the man who was to begin the work in a few days was already in possession. Several times I had given. the holy sacraments to the Christians in the capital, and I was waiting for the close of the new year's festivities to visit again the Christians of Seul. We were in expectation of our messenger with the European post, but to our uneasiness, no one came. The Christians encouraged us, believing there was no fear of his detention. On the 28th of January, our servant, John Ischoa, came to tell us that our postmen had been seized, tortured, and thrown into prison, and as soon as the news arrived, the King had ordered the imprisonment of the Bishop and his missionaries. They are coming to-day,' added John, one of my relations heard it, and has sent his son to warn us.' 'Well,' I answered, 'let us prepare ourselves to die for God, it is the shortest way to Heaven.' 'I am not afraid to die,' he replied, 'but I grieve for the Bishop and priests, and the poor Christians who have not yet received the sacraments. It will be a sad blow for the Church here.'

"At once I sent word to the missionaries, Blanc and Deguette, burnt my letters, and gave my other papers in charge to the printer, who had come to offer me a place of refuge in his house. I resolved on flight, but this purpose could not be carried out before night. I had been under no delusion when I entered Corea. I had always expected death, and this news did not alarm me. At four in the afternoon, I was told that the streets were full

of policemen, so escape was out of the question. In a few minutes, smashing doors and windows, they broke in, and soon appeared in my room. I wished to speak to them, but as soon as I was recognized, they rushed upon me, seizing me by the hair, the beard, and the arms, howling and shrieking to encourage one another. I was hurried off without delay to a room above, where I found other prisoners, surrounded by about twenty constables, who were rejoicing at their capture. Some women were

there also, who had helped in the seizure. One of the head men, Schyang, spoke in my behalf, and at his request, they left hold of me, and led me back to my room. Schyang told me that he had been intrusted by Government with the capture of the Christians, adding: 'We know there are four more Europeans in the country, and I hope you will send them an order to give themselves up to the authorities.' 'What makes you think there are more priests here?' I asked. 'Oh,' he answered, 'we are well informed;' and began to scold the policemen for having used me roughly. 'The Bishop will follow us,' he said, and added to me, 'I know you use a book to say your prayers, give it to me, and you shall have it back at the proper time and place.' These words surprised me. I asked how he knew all this. 'Oh,' he answered, 'I took Mgr. Bernany and Mgr. Daveluy to prison. I know them very well, and the others also.' My thoughts could not but turn to the seizure of our dear Lord in the Garden of Olives, whilst the house was resounding with the shouts and laughter of these men. At last we set out: two men led me, and my servant John, with a younger man, followed, both in chains, like myself. It was already night, but the people rushed to look at us, and the streets were crowded. It was a sad thought that I had come to bring to these poor people the light of faith, and yet was already in chains, but I offered to our Lord for them most willingly the sacrifice life. When we reached the court of justice, I was

of

my

C

led into an inner room, into the presence of an overseer or prefect, who sat on a mat. He appeared friendly, and after the examination ordered me to be well treated.

"After this, I was led to the chief constable, who overpowered me with questions, which I answered as best I could. By degrees the people withdrew, and I was left with two men to watch me. Towards midnight they gave me a square piece of wood for a pillow. I finished my prayers and went to sleep. When I was praying they constantly beset me with questions. My breviary had been returned to me, and I kept it until the 16th of March. At first I succeeded badly in saying my Office, but it soon became known that it was of no use speaking to me when I was reading that book.

"At night I was going to look at my watch, but it had disappeared. I told the superintendent that I had had it when I left home in a small pocket, and must have lost it by the way, and hoped it might be found. He looked astonished, and I heard him say: 'His watch has been stolen, and because he will not accuse any one, he says he has lost it. He is a good man!' I well remembered that the man who led me fingered my little pocket, under pretence of holding me tighter, and I missed also my comb and my penknife. Fortunately, he had not robbed me of my episcopal ring, which I carefully concealed.

"Later on, I was taken to a lower room, where fetters were put on me. They were composed of two pieces of wood in the under piece are slits, in which the feet are inserted above the ankles; the upper piece, which is connected with the other by a hinge, is then bent until both ends meet and can be secured by a padlock. They were satisfied with fettering one of my feet, and seemed ashamed of their work, and, by way of excuse, they said: 'It is the custom of the country, when a stranger comes, to put this on his feet.' I was able to lie on my back, and tired as I was, I slept a couple of hours. What was before me I knew not. Of escape I had not much hope: the fate of

my predecessors spoke pretty clearly. On the 31st of January, I overheard a few words about an execution on the following morning. In the quiet of night I prepared for death, thinking my last hour had come; but whether or not an execution did take place I never heard. Next day the festivities of the new year took place. New Year's greetings were exchanged. I was taken to an upper room, and the fetters were removed. They were not put on again for two days, when an order arrived to that effect. My guards tried to persuade the judge to interfere in my behalf, but he answered: 'I feel compassion for him myself, but my instructions require it.'

"A severe cold soon after attacked me, and the judge ordered me to be set free and taken care of. I was provided with money to buy firewood, and treated with much. kindness. I heard them singing my praises, and saying that instead of putting me to death, it would be better to send me home.

"On the 5th of February, I heard a great tumult in the house. All was kept secret from me, as far as possible, but I soon saw that prisoners had arrived. I could hear their lamentations and the voices of children. My idea that they were Christians was soon confirmed, for I overheard these words of the judge: Hast thou been taught by the Europeans?'

Among the prisoners was a young woman of eighteen, the daughter of a Corean nobleman, who had only been married ten days before. On the 20th, more Christians were imprisoned, and all, about twenty in number, were confined in a narrow place with common thieves. They had not space to lie down, and their feet were kept constantly fettered. In another letter I will describe more fully this prison and those who for two months had the care of me."

To-Day.

Dignare, Domine, die isto, sine peccato nos custodire.

LORD, for to-morrow and its needs
I do not pray;

Keep me, my God, from stain of sin,
Just for to-day.

Let me both diligently work
And duly pray ;

Let me be kind in word and deed,
Just for to-day.

Let me be slow to do my will,
Prompt to obey;

Help me to mortify my flesh,
Just for to-day.

Let me no wrong or idle word
Unthinking, say;

Set Thou a seal upon my lips,
Just for to-day.

Let me in season, Lord, be grave,
In season, gay;

Let me be faithful to Thy grace,
Just for to-day.

And if to-day my tide of life
Should ebb away,

Give me Thy sacraments divine,
Sweet Lord, to-day.

In Purgatory's cleansing fires

Brief be my stay ;

O bid me, if to-day I die,
Go home to-day.

So, for to-morrow and its needs

I do not pray;

But keep me, guide me, love me, Lord,

Just for to-day.

S. M. X.