Bon Secours, one evening, on her way to a ball, when she was suddenly
thrown down upon the steps or near the door, and received a severe
shock. She was taken up, and removed first, I think, into the church,
but soon into the Black Nunnery, which she soon determined to join as a
nun; instead, however, of being required to pass through a long
novitiate (which usually occupies about two years and a-half, and is
abridged only where the character is peculiarly exemplary and devout),
she was permitted to take the veil without delay; being declared by God
to a priest to be in a state of sanctity. The meaning of this expression
is, that she was a real saint, and already in a great measure raised
above the world and its influences, and incapable of sinning, possessing
the power of intercession, and being a proper object to be addressed in
prayer. This remarkable individual, I was further informed, was still in
the Convent, though I never was allowed to see her; she did not mingle
with the other nuns, either at work, worship, or meals; for she had no
need of food, and not only her soul, but her body, was in heaven a great
part of her time. What added, if possible, to the reverence and
mysterious awe with which I thought of her, was the fact I learned, that
she had no name. The titles used in speaking of her were, the holy
saint, reverend mother, or saint bon pasteur (the holy good shepherd).

It is wonderful that we could have carried our reverence for the
Superior as far as we did, although it was the direct tendency of many
instructions and regulations, indeed of the whole system, to permit,
even to foster a superstitious regard for her.

One of us was occasionally called into her room, to cut her nails or
dress her hair; and we would often collect the clippings, and distribute
them to each other, or preserve them with the utmost care. I once picked
up all the stray hairs I could find, after combing her head, bound them