accomplished; for the work of repair could not be effected without
causing an extraordinary shock to the whole human organism; the bones
grew again, new flesh was formed, and the disease, driven away, made its
escape in a final convulsion. But how great was the feeling of comfort
which followed! The doctors could not believe their eyes, their
astonishment burst forth at each fresh cure, when they saw the patients
whom they had despaired of run and jump and eat with ravenous appetites.
All these chosen ones, these women cured of their ailments, walked a
couple of miles, sat down to roast fowl, and slept the soundest of sleeps
for a dozen hours. Moreover, there was no convalescence, it was a sudden
leap from the death throes to complete health. Limbs were renovated,
sores were filled up, organs were reformed in their entirety, plumpness
returned to the emaciated, all with the velocity of a lightning flash!
Science was completely baffled. Not even the most simple precautions were
taken, women were bathed at all times and seasons, perspiring
consumptives were plunged into the icy water, sores were left to their
putrefaction without any thought of employing antiseptics. And then what
canticles of joy, what shouts of gratitude and love arose at each fresh
miracle! The favoured one falls upon her knees, all who are present weep,
conversions are effected, Protestants and Jews alike embrace
Catholicism--other miracles these, miracles of faith, at which Heaven
triumphs. And when the favoured one, chosen for the miracle, returns to
her village, all the inhabitants crowd to meet her, whilst the bells peal
merrily; and when she is seen springing lightly from the vehicle which
has brought her home, shouts and sobs of joy burst forth and all intonate
the _Magnificat_: Glory to the Blessed Virgin! Gratitude and love for
ever!

Indeed, that which was more particularly evolved from the realisation of
all these hopes, from the celebration of all these ardent thanksgivings,
was gratitude--gratitude to the Mother most pure and most admirable. She
was the great passion of every soul, she, the Virgin most powerful, the
Virgin most merciful, the Mirror of Justice, the Seat of Wisdom.* All
hands were stretched towards her, Mystical Rose in the dim light of the
chapels, Tower of Ivory on the horizon of dreamland, Gate of Heaven
leading into the Infinite. Each day at early dawn she shone forth, bright
Morning Star, gay with juvenescent hope. And