Failing miserably at exams, he was packed off as a lowly priest to a remote parish in Ars.

He got on very well with the locals, helping them with all their problems — anything from book-keeping to remedies for ailments.

He was so sympathetic at confession time that queues formed and pilgrims came in abundance.

It got to the point that he was spending up to seventeen hours a day on tap. "Bless me father for I have sinned — and can you give me a recipe for bramble jelly?"