e
banks of the river.

I was served at my Mass by a Scottish priest, immediately afterwards I
served his at the same altar. While vesting, I noticed a priest at the
high altar of this little chapel reading out acts of prayer, to which
the congregation responded; and learned that two persons who had been
received into the Church on that day were to make their First Communion.
As midnight struck, simultaneously from the seven altars came seven
voices:

"_In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen._"

Once more, on returning home and going to bed a little after one o'clock
in the morning, the last sound that I heard was of the "_Gloria Patri_"
being sung by other pilgrims also returning to their lodging.

After coffee, a few hours later, I went down again to the square. It was
Sunday, and a Pontifical High Mass was being sung on the steps of the
Rosary Church. As usual, the crowd filled the square, and I could hardly
penetrate for a while beyond the fringe; but it was a new experience to
hear that vast congregation in the open air responding with one giant
voice to the plain-song of the Mass. It was astonishing what expression
showed itself in the singing. The _Sanctus_ was one of the most
impressive peals of worship and adoration that I have ever heard. At the
close of the Mass, all the bishops present near the altar--I counted six
or seven--turned and gave the blessing simultaneously. On the two great
curves that led up to the basilica were grouped the white banners of the
_miracules_.

Soon after arriving at the Bureau a very strange and quiet little
incident happened. A woman with a yellowish face, to which the colour
was slowly returning, came in and sat down to give her evidence. She
declared to us that during the procession yesterday she had been cured
of a tumour on the liver. She had suddenly experienced an overwhelming
sense of relief, and had walked home completely restored to health. On
being asked why she did not present herself at the Bureau, she answered
that she did not think of it: she had just gone home. I have not yet
heard whether this was a true cure or not; all I can say at present is I
was as much impressed by her simple and natural bearing, her entire
self-possession, and the absence of excitement, as by anything I saw at
Lourdes. I cannot conceive such a woman suffering from an illusion.

A few minutes later Dr. Cox called to me, and writing on a card, handed
it to me, telling me i