The New York Herald Newspaper, August 23, 1873, Page 4

4 FRENCH FERVOR. ‘The National Pilgrimages to the Shrines of the Saints---No, 3, FROM BUGLOSE TO LOURDES. Sketch of the Quaint Old City at the Gates of the Pyrenees. BERNADETTE SOUBIRONS. ‘Miraculous Apparition in the ; Grotto of Marsabielle. “The Lady” and the Little Shepherdess. . Sceptical Doctors, Questioning Lawyers and Incredulous Free-Thinkers Confounded by an Uneducated Child. ‘Waters Springing Out of the Rock at the Word of the Divine Virgin. A REJECTED BRIBE. ‘ Lovrpes, Juiy 26, 1873. Some of the pilgrims began to show the first symptoms of fatigue on the afternoon of the day ‘which we passed at Buglose. They streamed tow- ards the railway stauon in a disorderly torrent ‘when it was time to depart; and the committee- gmen had to run to the front and stop them. It was Mearfully hot, and many ofthe pilgrims were out of ‘temper; 60, when the committeemen determined ‘to form them into procession again that day, “Vrat Wieu, sont-ils déravonnables ces gens la?” saidan wld lady, aud it is not improbable thatin this un- wuthorized manner she may have expressed the weneral sense, at ail events, of her sister pilgrims, ‘We did form in line at last, however, andall through the cornfields and by the hedgerows, while the birds ung, we made the air vocal with our hymn and its $hundering chorus— Sauvez Rome et la France, Au nom du Sacre Cour, There was a tremendous scrimmage at the sta- ion, A tipsy managing man in authority had got on of the command of us, and suddenly called a alt. Then he did not know what to do with us, | And kept on giving tipsy and contradictory «i- rections, while we were slowly broiling with the Setting sun In our eyes. At length the burly form of the Viscoun of barons siouched forward, and put things in order yy Superseding the tipsy man. | “Dear me!” 1 asked of a Grand Vicar, who had ot a large umbrella and had, therefore, a mind Mor talk, “has nobody really got money or puis out ‘pf these pilgrimages’” “No,” said he, simply. “The idea of them came from God. Nobody claim to it.” TAKING THE VEIL. The young lady who travelled in the same car- Plage with me was about to become a nun; and the Grand Vicar with the large umbrella complt- | mented her upon her resolve as she took her in the train, He also let off a small joke at Because,” said he, ‘you are about to become yoy sister.” Then I put a question plumply to the military Chaplain, who was a man of great wordly experi- ence, whether if this young lady were his sister ne ‘would have advised her to take such a step? The French Duke beside me looked up and he answered first:—*! have a sister who made a bad marriage, and fortunately lost her huspand carly. ‘Bhe was in bad health, and when she told me one Bay that sne was about to enter the community of *Les Seura Hospitalieres’ I opened my eyes with Bstonishment. ‘Ma chére,’ 1 said to her, ‘avec botre état de santé vous ne Jamais plus qu'une porur hospitalisée,’ and I tried to dissuade her. Eh bien, javais tort. She is now eighty-four tee old and extremely comfortable. I, too, have ved long since then, and I think that the Feligious sisterhood are the happiest women on arth.” i And thus spoke the army chaplain:—“I would Brat inquire closely into her antecedents and cha: Beter. If I found that she was of a quiet nature, which loved repose and did not hanker after worldly pleasure, I would advise her to take the | weil.” Also said the Curé of Clichy:—‘I would advise | her to take the veil in any case. If she were a good | girl she would be encouraged in virtue by excel- } Jent examples; if she were of indifferent goodness | X should rejoice that such an excellent idea had Bome into her head, and suggest that she shoulda jut it into execution without loss of time, lest she | hould change her mind.. She would have no op- | portunity of acting improperly as anun. I should simply think that she had been mercifully called | by Divine Providence to mend her manners, and i} should on no account interfere with her resolu- tion.” We stoppea shortly afterwards at a station, where the promised nun got out and drank a glass | pfale. There was no nonsense about her. I ac- | tompanied her to a little ale house near the sta- | tion. Sbe had very pleasant manners; she said phe was tiirty. She said little else, and whenI | paid her a compliment, she took it with delightful | Poolness, as she might have done the change of a Ave franc note. At every station where we stopped after leaving Buglose large crowds assembled to receive us, Bnd cheered us loudly, and waved their handker- | ehiefs from window and balcony, Nevertheless we got into trouble at Pau, It ap- peared that an unbelieving railway director holds puthority here, and our train was delayed tor two | Bours, in spite of some strong words trom the | Viscount of Damas about a breach of contract pommitted by this bebavior, ARRIVAL AT LOURDES. ‘of the | |] Cook’s idea of urnamentation, whicf usualiy con- NEW YORK HERALD ‘SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 1873—TRIPLE SHEET. present large revenues made it so profitable a call- ing that worldly men flocked into it from interest rather than from conviction. He was a wise and Teasonabie man, this vicar, and so was the Curé of St. Malo, in Brittany, wno presently joined us. Between the eggs and the apples of our breakfast the Curé of St. Malo spoke of the necessity of keep- tag the civil and ecclesiastical power quite distinct in @ well-governed country; ‘for,’ he observed, ‘when they are joined together, as in Russia, the civil power becomes too potent and may make @ terrible use of its authority. It is well that the oppressed should. nave some refuge and court of appeal’ from it, and that the terrors of the Church should not be used for political party purposes.” Then we talked of the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church in France; and he explained that the term abbé is the generic designation ef a French priest, and not a title implying any ecclesiastical rank or functions. Young priests are educated at cercain religious seminaries, and unless they enter one of the monastic orders they begin their career as vicaires, or curates, acting under the authority of @ superior. Alter a period, short or long, ac- cording to their chances, they become curés, or incumbents of some particular benefice. OUR LADY OF LOURDES. In order to enable the public of the United States to form any sort of opinion worthy of cheir intelli- gence touching the events which are now passing at Lourdes, I interrupt my narrative to give some account of the place. Iwill endeavor not to make that account very long, but I must make it comprehensive, or the cursory and untravelled reader—by the way, who 1s an untravelled reader in the United Statest—might run away with false ideas and form erroneous conclusions upon sinsuf- ficient information. “La guerre,” says a French proverb, ‘n'est que la mésintelligence,” and J take it that most differences of opinion between honest folk arise trom ignorance on the one side or upon the other. The notorious facts with which we have to deal are these :—An interminable procession of pilgrims, men, women and children, actually does come at this present writing to kneel betore & grotto in a wilderness entirely unknown to more human beings a few years ago; that the words of one little child have suddenly causea this grotto to be considered a divine sanctuary, and that popular faith among the most sceptical people ip the world has raised above the grotto a vast edifice which has cost 2,000,000 of francs. - Now, how did this happen in an age of enlighten- Ment and cheap education? How did it come about that the testimony of an ignorant little gir concerning an apparition which nobody but herself had seen found credit and brought forth such Strange vesults? There is a peremptory way of dealing with such questions, and the word ‘‘super- Stition” is convenient for that purpose. It is a prudent and easy thing to give a curt denial to a fact one: cannot understand and will not discuss, It is the official or permanent-cierk method of getting out of a difficulty, but it is not honest. Let us try what Can be done witha fact by meeting it With just a little candor and patience, It is A NEW MODE OF TREATING FACTS, and for that reason, if for no other, is worth an experiment. The little town of Lourdes is situ- ated in the department of the Hautes-Pyrénées, at the juncture of the soven valleys of the Lavedan, between the last hills which terminate the plain of Tarbes and tlie first abrupt rocks of the great mountain. In form it resembles a pigeon pie, made in acircular dish, with the birds’ feet sticking out upper crust, in accordance with Mme, sists in putting some piece of rubbish in the wrong place. The houses are grouped ina disorderly man- ner, at the base of a large isolated rock. upon the summit of which has been erected a strong for- tress. Beneath, amidst the suade of poplar trees runs the Gave, @ noisy river, always quarrelling With flint stones and much used for the purpose of washing linen. The borders of the Gave round Lourdes have generally a hard and savage aspect, | With here and there a charming bit of landscape let into them by some caprice of nature. Inthe Middle Ages the Castle of Lourdes was held now by the Saracens, now by the English and then by the Counts of Bigorre. They seemed to have perched upon it like birds of prey and theace swoeped down upon travellers. In the eighteenth century the fortress of Lourdes became a State prison and was known as the Bastile of the Pyrenees. The Revolution burst open this Bastile, as it had done the other, and set the prisoners in it Jree to replace them with others who were indeed culpable in a very different degree. The local records give @ list of their crimes:—1, Incivic (?) 2. Refusing the kiss of peace to citizen N. (a very ladylike crime this)? 3, Troublesomeness (a more terrible sort of guilt)..4. Drunkenness. 5, Icy cold- ness of tecling about the Revolution (De glace pour la Révolution), 6. Hypocritical and reserved dis_ position. 7, A disposition as fond of lying as a dentist. 8. Sly and peaceful miserliness; indif- ferent about the Revolution. They were not very easy masters these first republicans, who upset their locksmith king and his pretty wife. Under the First Empire the fortress of Lourdes was main- tained as a State prison, being some ten days’ jour- ney from the capital, so that q bawling patriot could hardly make bis voice heard from such a distance. The Restoration converted it into a forti- fied place of the filth order and put a hundred of infantry under the command of & major in it for the sake of appearances rather than defence, Lourdes, nevertheless, continues to be the key of the Pyrenees, though in a different sense from that understood by soldiers, It isin the midBt of the hot springs resorted to for curative purposes, as though all MANKIND SHOULD BE BOILED WHEN TENDER. Whether one wants to get to Barréges or to St. Sauveur, to Cauterets orto Baguerre de Bigorre, itis equally necessary to pass through Lourdes. Ever since tne baths of the Pyrenees first came into fashion a score of diligences daily deposited their passengers at the Hotel de la Poste, and allowed them just time to dine and look about them, no | more. Thus for about a century this little towa, being constantly traversed by strangers, picked up some ideas from them, and its inhabitants became advanced thinkers, rather proud of their civiliza- tion. In 1858, when Lourdes was about to obtain a worldwide celebrity, most of the Parisian re- views and newspapers had readers there. The Revue des Dgux Mondes, then at the bead of French literature, numbered several regular subscribers, The coffee houses and wine shops took in the Siecle, a very unerthodox print. The local gentry and the clergy divided their atiention between the Journal des Débats (then admirably conducted by an unequalled staff of wfiters) and the Presse, the Moniteur, the Univers and the Union. Lourdes had aclud, a printing press and a newspaper of its own; also a court of law, @ well organized police and various public establishments of Importance. The population, like most mountatneers, were It thus happened, moreover, that instead of ar- Tiving at Lourdes by daylight we did not get there | till eleven o'clock at night in the midst of a pour- | Ing rain. A vast crowd of pilgrims, however, from Marseilles met us by torchlight, and we chanted the “Magnificat’’ while the lights flashed luridiy pbout in the rain and the darkness, The organization of the committee broke down a ttle wt Lourdes. But there were thousands of rims in the little town; and given a crowd— B French crowd—hot,’ wet, talkative, angry, ex- cited, and every one composing it in immediate want of lodgings, what are a stout-hearted viscount nd his friends to do with it? Somehow or other all obstacles were overcome, Bnd we managed to get housed about midnight. I ‘was lodged in @ large upper room at a lemonade Bhop. My bed was of straw, and the single sheet Dn it was too small; but there were an enormous Oaken wardrobe on one side of the roomand a very small wash-band basin on the other, seeming quite ashamed of itself. The committee were all hoarse with their exertions, and I heard a part of them coughing in a double-bedded room next to me. Whey evidently had not taken the best lodgings tor themselves and their acquaintance. CHURCH AND STATE. 1 walked up a, stony street next morning to dreakfast at the Hotel de la Paix? 1 met one of . the viears of Soissons, who talked to me about the disesteblishment of the Church of England, He faid that the Catholic party was anxious to seo the English Church disestablished, because its ‘ef rw | Mig A . noticeable for their hard and practical common | Sense; and it would have been as dificult to get the better of them as of @ community of Scotch Highlanders. They were strong, healthy people, of a pure race, which had seldom intermixed with foreigners; and contemporary statistics men- tioned few places where the schools were so well attended as those of Lourdes, Every little boy there was sent to some schoolmaster or religious fraternity to acquire the groundwork of education. | Every little girl was sent to the convent school of the Sisters of Nevers. Far better taught than the inhabitants of most French towns, they neverthe- less preserved much of ihe simplicity of a country life. They were ‘hot-tempered folk, generally upright and just in their dealings and averse to change. They made good conservatives in politics, and their morality was, and is, eXceptionally good. A WISE LITTLE TOWN it was, and when One came to consider tits institu. tions there were several things worth notice in them. For instance, the secret of trades’ unions had been known to the Lourdes workingmen ever since the fifteenth century, They were calied “brotherhoods,” and, strange to say, they were approved and protected by the Roman Catholic Church, Each of these brotherhoods had a chapel, where they met for prayers, instead of @ pothouse, where they might have met to drink, and from the name of that chapel they took their designation, The brotherhood of ‘Our Lady of Grace” was com- posed of agricultural laborers, quite a new thing in England, which lately stirred up that honest and elegant gentleman, the titular Duke of Buckingham, with other wondering sages, The brotherhood of “Our Lady of Mount Carmel’? was composed of slate workers; that of “Our Lady of Montserrat” of masons, The ‘Brotherhood of St. Anne” admitted none but locksmiths; another none bat tailors. The “Brotherheod of the Ascen- sion” was.a union of quarrymen. The work: women of Lourdes, too, had formed similar associa- tions, and one of them, called “The Congregation Of the Children of Mary,” was particularly notice- able. These ladies had taken the women’s rights question, which is puzzling POOR LITTLE LORD AMBERLEY, into their own hands, and settled. it satisfactorily before His Lordship was born. Poor little Lord Amberley could not contrive to tumble down over something strange or new in spite of all his efforts to do go. Such was the state of Lourdes and its inhabl- tants in 1858. They were citizens of no mean city, though it was such a long way from Paris and New York, Among the surroundings of this vivacious little town there was no spot more wild and soli- tary than that known as Les Roches Marsabielles, atthe foot of wMich raged the turbulent river Gave. A little above this stream the base of the rock was pierced by three irregular exca- vations, rising One On the top of the other, with @ communication open between them. The first and largest of these excavations was on a level with the’ ground. It was of the size and form of those little tents which are pitched by wandering pediers at fairs, and tt looked rather like one side of a big shapeless oven. The entrance to this grotto was through an arch about four yards high; the width of it was about equal to its depth and meus- ‘red fiiteen yards, Avove, on the right hand of the’spectator, were two other openings, Seen irom without the principal! of these two openings ap- peared of an oval shape, about the size of 4 house window or a niche of achurch. A wild rose tree, springing out of a crevice in the rock, wreathed its Plant branches round the orifice, like a gariand. The three excavations here described were called THE GROTTO OF MAKSABIBLLE, Around it was an uncultivated steep belonging to the town of Lourdes, and chiefly used for feed- ing swine. The swineherds who tended them, and now and then a fisherman, took refuge from the storm and wind in this grotte, The storms were very strong and mercilul in this region, and they rent away many dry sticks trom off the trees around, which served to warm the poor in Winter time. ‘THE APPARITION OF THE VIRGIN. It was on the lth of February, 1858, during that boisterous week of carnival which precedes Lent. The weather was cold, but without wind, and the clouds rested immovable in the heavens. A few drops of rain fell at rare inter- vals, Throughout the diocese of Tarbes was being celebrated the festival of tue illustrious shepherdess of France, St. Genevieve. Eleven o'clock belore noon had just struck by the church clock of Lourdes. While everywhere among the well-to-do citizens preparations were being made for mirth and ieast- ing, @ poor family, who rented one of the most miserable houses in the street of “The Little Ditches,” seemed cut off trom the world and could take no part in ita pleasures, They had not even fuel to cook their meagre dinner. The father 0! this poor family had once beena miller; but things had gone ill with him, and he was now obliged to hire himselt out as a day lavorer when he could get work, which was not often. His nawe was Francis Soubirons, and he was married to an honest woman named Louise Castérot. They had Jour cirilaren—two daughters, of whom the eldest | Was feurteen years old, and two sons nfuch younger. BERNADETTE, their eldest daughter, was a sickly child, who had only returned home within the last iortnight, and, as all the world 1s now concerned with ner, it may be as well to record what is known to many living people abou: her antecedents, Sue was an invaitd from her birth, Her mother, who was then sickly too, having beeh unabie to suckle her, put her out at nurse in the neighboring village of Bartres, and Bernadette remained there alter she was weaned. Her parents paid—sometimes in money, but more often in kind—about five trancs @ month for her board and lodging. They could not adord to keep a@sick child at heme, for there was no one to nurse it but its mother, who had enough to do*with her other children and her housework. As soon as the girl was strong enough to work they sent tor her, indeed; but the poor peasants who had brought her up by hand had _ become Strongly attached to her, and were unwiling tolet ber go. They agreed to adopther, and em- ployed her to tend a little Nock of sheep. She grew up under the care of her adopted family, passing most of her days in solitude upon the hillside, where the sheep were feeding. Was it not, by the way, some shepherds watching their flocks wao first saw the star of Bethlehem? With respect to religion she knew no more than how to tell her beads, and, whether trom the advice of her narse or from her own choice, she was telling her beads contiuually. She was very fond of her sheep; and, being asked by some one which of them she liked best, she answered simply, “The smallest and weakest of them,” Of this sheep she made a play- fellow— she had no other—and she was often found decking it with wild flowers. She was a miserable- looking littie thing herself, 80 small and feeble that when fourteen years of age and on the verge of Womanhood she looked no more than ten years old. She was not then sickly, but she was troubled with an asthora which caused her much suffering. She bore her affliction with that patient resigna- | tion which seems go dificult to the rich, but which is inborn and natural to the poor. Perhaps it was in the school of physical suffering that she learned that simplicity and habit of self-sacritice which have been enjoined by all religions, Of the world and its wickedness, its joys and its vanities, she knew absolutely nothing. She was an amiable child, and had the gift of making herself beloved by those around her; but she had a very bad opinion of herself. She could neitner read nor write, and therefore she felt at a grievous disadvantage in the presense of other children of her own age. Moreover, she could not even speak French, aud only understood the bar- barous diaiect or patois of the Pyrences, She had never been taught her catechism. The only prayers she knew were somé broken phrases—Our Father,” “I salute you, Mary, full of grace,” “I believe,” “Glory be to the Father," and that was ali. It is needless to add that she had never been con- firmed, and that all the splendor, pomp and traditions of the Roman Catholic Church were utterly unkoown to her. It was, in- deed, in order to teach her the catechism that her parents had invited her to pay them @ visit, She nad been with themmearly a fortnight; and, made anxious by her asthma and frail, wistful looks, her mother took especiai care of her. While her brothers and sisters ran about with bare feet in their wooden shoes, warm socks had been provided for her. God only knows what even love cost#the very poor. She was alsokept within the house, that she might not be made worse by wind and weather, Upon the feast of St. Genevieve the child was restless, It was cold, and there was no fire, There could be no food cither till fire was made, “Be off, you, to the banks of the Gave and gather some sticks to make the pot boil,” sad Mme. Soubdirous to ner second daughter, whose name was Mary. The giri put on her wooden shoes, while her sister watched her with envious looks, “Let me go with her, mother. 1 too can gather @ little buudle of fagots,” said the invalid, F “No,” replied her mother; “you have been cough- ing, my dear, and you will make yourself fll.’ A girl named Joanne Abadie, a neighbor's daugh- ter, about fifteen years old, came to the house at this moment, and ai80 Wanted to be of the party. So all the children together coaxed Mnfe, Sou- birons out of a pefmission to let them set off in company. ‘The invalid girl was thinly clad and her head was mercly bound round witha cotton ker- of strong cloth, sometimes white a8 a lamb's fleece, sometimes of a bright scarlet, It covers the head and falls down upon the snoulders as low asthe waist. When the weather 1s cold and windy the Pyrenees women cover their breasts and arms all over with it. In Summer time they fold it in a neat square and wear it upon their heads asa four-cornered hat. The capulet of the small shep- herdeas of Bartres was white, and she was clothed init when she first saw the vision of the Virgin Mary. < PORTRAIT OF BERNADETTE, Thave the portrait of. this little girl before me as I write. She is @ small creature, with a face won- derfully sweet and ¢; t—nothing at all like trick or falsehood im it. She has a broad, smooth, open brow, with @ candid expression on it. Her deep-set eyes seem trying, with all their might and main, to be goed and true. Her nose ts of that Grecian order which has veg lawt beauty, and her mouth is firm-set, Ke 5 tas @ SBer ited thar Mouth could tell a lie. Her face is oval, rounded and lovely. Her hair is hidden beneath @ modest little cap, so that only the parting of it and the back hair can be seen, A fairer vision than this little girl has never broken ugon @poet’s dream, A dainty, quaint and pretty little thing. You must kiss her, for there is a wondrous dignity about this child, that does net know her catechism, She holds a rosary 40 her hand, and her common dress mounts high up to her throat. I never saw a face so wondrously calm, and, mind, the grace of it is not some cunning trick ofa paimter’s hand, ‘some artiul dodge’ of an imaginary priesthood, ever looking out for dupes and Blert to deceive as no community of human beings ever have been er could be. The sun struck off from nature this faithiul resemblance of the little girl, Amite of a thing, ina litue white riding hood, she tripped out of the town of Lourdes with her sister and her friend, escorted by her brother, who perhaps intended to marry the friend when he grew up; and hand in hand, chattering as they went, they came to tue leit vank of the River Gave. The River Gave, at the point where they stopped, is now a dcep and rapid stream. I asked a peasant how these little children crossed if on foot, They could not cross itnow swimming. He said that it was formerly so shallow that to ford it was easy. The children began to pick up sticks, and passed over to @ little island called ‘the Chalet, on the property of one M. de Lafitte, where there were many sticks. The elect girl, who was about to see the Virgin Mary, felt her strength give way, and her sturdy young companions strode.on ahead of her. She had picked up nothing, and her apron was empty—she was a very Cinderella of an elect little girl—while her sister, her sister’s triend and her brother had their arms fulf of fagota. She had on @ black irock, all darned and pieced and thread- bare; her small feet were hidden in wooden shoes, her head and shoulders were covered with the snowy capulet, She must have looked an tnnocent rustic little girl, cbarming the heart of the be- holder a8 much as the eyes. Her complexion, though tanned by the,suu, had lost nothing of its native delicacy. Her silky black hair was hardly visible beneath the kerchief which bound it, The perlectly arched eyebrows over her almond-shapea brown eyes of exceeding softness gave them a look of geatle surprise. The pervading meaning of that littie face was one of kindness and com- passion, Her countenance, at once fair and intelligent, won all who looked upon it, There seemed a mys- tic power and authority about this poor, ignorant child, dressed in mended rags; tor about her was the rarest of earthly taings, THE MAJESTY OF INNOCENCE, She had been christened alter the great Doctor of the Church who wrote the “Memorare,” ana who had especially dedicated his life and its works to the Virgin Mary. [mean St. Bernard. In accord- ance witha gracelul custom prevailing in France, the name of this great man, when given to a little peasant girl, had been softened into something. pastoral and childlike, and the little girl, who owned the pretty name which had been made out of the great name, was called Bernadette, She sat down by the banks or the River Gave, for her com- panions had toid her that the water was cold, and she hesitated to cross it, She had stockings on, too, and she was afvuid to wet them. “Throw two or three large stones on the ford and ican cross it drylfooted,” said Bernadette; but the other children answered, “Do as we have done. Come across to the island barefooted.” So Bernadette sat down on the fragment of a rock and began to take off.her stockings. lt was noon by this time, and the “Angelus” sounded from the steeples of ali the towns and villages of the Pyreflees, Bernadette had just taken off one 0: her stockings when she heard around her a mur- mur like the sighing of a wind sweeping over grass. She thougnt that a hurricane, such as she had often seen in the mountains, was cqming on, and she looked around her for the premonitory symptoms of it. But, to her amazement, the pop- lars on the borders of the Gave were still, Nut a breath of air stirred among theif quiet branches, Thinking she had been mistaken, yet remembering the noise which she had = heard,. the child felt puzzled; and then she began to take olf her other stocking. At this moment an impetuous gust of the invisible wind made itself heard again. Bernadette raised her head, and, looking up belore her, tried to utter @ loud cry, which died stifled onher lips. She trembied in ail her limbs, and, crouching down, dazed and overwhelmed by the sight before her, the child fell all in a heap upon her knees, An amazing sight, indeed, had been revealed to her. Above the grotto within that upper niche there stood, surrounded by a supernatural radiance, a lady of incomparable splendor. ATMOSPHERE OF THE VIRGIN, The inetfavie light which foated about her did not trouble the vision and daze the eyes, like the intol- erable brightness of thesun. On the contrary, this aureoia, brilliant as a stream of rays, was as peace- ful as @ profound shadowp and attracted the child's looks, which bathed and reposed in it with @ sense of delight. This light was as: the light of @ morning star in its fresh- ness. Nor was there anything vague and vaporous about the apparition within it, It had not the wacertain outlines of a fantastic vision; it was, it looked like, a living reality, a human body, which the eye judged to be of palpable flesh like ours; and it differed only irom the person of mortal by tue aureola around it and by.its divine beauty. ‘He is not the God ef the dead, but of the living,” I have somewhere read, PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF THE VIRGIN MARY. She was of middie height. She seemed quite young, and she had the grace of her twentieth Sum- mer, but without losing anything of its tenderness. Grace, which is so fugitive here below, seemed in her to wear the aspect of eternity. Moreover, the divine lineaments of her face seemed to mingie, leaving their harmony undisturbed, the successive and deepening kinds of beauty of all the four seasons of human life. There were the innocent candor of the child, the absolute purity of the virgin, the gravity of motherhood and the wisdom of age, all blended together in the marvelious countenance of the celestial visitor. Words can no more tell her praises than lamps can show the lustre of a star. THE VIRGIN’S FACR. The regularity and ideal purity of her features no language can describe. Itecan merely record that her face was oval; that her eyes were piue and of a suavity which melted the heart of the be- holder. Her lips breathed goodness and mercy, Her brow was stately and august. THE VIRGIN’S DRESS, * Her robes were made of an unknown material of a whiteness purer than the snow, and more » magnificent in their simplicity than the dress of a queen. Her gown was long and trained in chaste folds upon the ground, leaving her feet only visi- ble. They reposed upon the rock, and each of them chief, after the jashion of South France. Her mother cast a keen glance at her. “Put on your capulet,” she said briefly. Tue capulet, which once gave the name to @ political party, is a graceful garment peculiar to the mountaineers of the Pyrenees, It answers a double purpose, and 1s at once a cloak and 4 headdre: It is @ kind of capuchon, or cowl, such as that which gave its title to the Capuchin monks and to the finest of she = Parisian = bgplevards, Jt je = mada pressed @ branch of eglantine, without crushing it. Upon cach of her feet, which were bare and white, blossomed the mystic rose of golden hue, THE VIRGIN'S SASH. A sky-blue sash was round her waist. It was knotted in front, and the ends of tt hung down in broad bands to her feet. Behind she was envel- oped in AN AMPLE WHITE VEIL, which covered her grms and ghoulaers; it was fixed to her hair and descended as low as her gown, THE VIRGIN WORB NO ORNAMENTS; DO ring, -mecklace, “diadem or jewels; not one of those trinkets with which human vanity delights te deck itself. A chaplet, ef which the beads were white a8 milk and through which passed chain yellow as a wheat ear-ripe for harvest, hung down from her bands, which were joined in the attitude of fervent prayer, She jd not speak, She seemed to be listening to the invocations ever riaing up to her, and with every bead she touched she appeared as though she bestowed some grace upon her wor- shippers. The Uttie girl who saw this heavenly vision, having recovered from her first amazement, ielt no more fear. She sought instinctively her beads, and made the sign of the cross, remaining still upon her knees. Then the Virgin, with a grave, sweet look, which seemed like a benediction, made the sign of the cross also, and when she had done so thechild found courage to utter her broken prayers:—“I believe in God,” “I salute you, Mary, full of grace.” As she finished them, as usual, with the words “Glory be to the Father” the luminous vision suddenly disappeared, Bernadette, after some hesitation, told her com: pauions, and then her mother, what she had seen. The children thought it was anevil spirit. Her mother thought nothing at all, and dismissed the subject curtly with the word “nonsense.” When, however, Bernadette persisted in her story, Mme. Soubirons said, “Very well, “but don’t do it again.” - (Quotquii en soit, ny retourne plus, je te le aésends.) Fancy maternal aathority forbidding those under “it to hold any intercourse with the Virgin Mary! Who were those eminent persons among the Gada- renes who, as soon as they had seen the Divine Master, prayed Him to depart out of their coaste— in short, would have nothing at all to do with Him? Bernadette, however, was never easy till she had seen the “lady,’’ as she called the vision in her coun- tryfied jargon, again, The other children, half fright- ened and half curious, thought also of nothing else but the marvellous event, and so upon the follow: ing’ Sunday, three full days after Bernadette had first seen the Virgfn, she had persuaded her mother to let her return to the grotto in the rocks 0! Mar- sablellc, The children who accompanied her sug- gested that sheshould take some holy water, and they filled a pint bottle with it for that purpose. “If itis tne devil,” reasoned these urchins, ‘he will take himself off if you. sprinkle him with holy water. You will merely have to say, if you come from God, draw near; if you come trom the demon, depart.” Bernadette thus armed, and with her chaplet in her hands, sat down again in the grotto and saw—nothing. . “Let us pray,” she said, “and let us tell our beads.” ‘The childrea kneeled down and each began the recitation of the rosary. Then all at once the lace of Bernadette was transfigured before them; an eXtraordinai'y emotion was depicted on all her features and her eyes beamed with a strange light. For there, her feet planted upon the roek, the marvellous vision was again manifest to her eyes. “Look, she is there |’? exclaimed Bernadette; but the other children saw nothing save the desert rock, about which climbed the branches of eglan- tine. The appearance of Bernadette, however, made it impassivle to doubt her words, and’ one of the children now placed the bottle of holy water in her hand. Then she rose, aud, shaking her bottle vigorously, she sprinkled with its contenta that gracious lady who stood within a few steps of her in the interior of the niche. “Lt you come from God, draw near,” said Berna- Mette, repeating the form of ianguage which she bad agreed on with her companions, At the words and actions of the child the Virgin inclined her head several times, and advanced to the extreme edge of the rock.. She seemed to smile at the pre- cautions of Bernadette and at her werlike atti- tude, So the’ little gitl called out again, “If you come from God, | say, draw near;’’ but she wasso impressed by the majesty of the Virgin that she did not dare to add anything about the demon. She only knelt down and continued to recite her Chaplet, while the Virgin seemed to listen, count- ing her own beads also one by one. When Berna dette had said her prayer the apparition vanished for the second time. THIRD APPEARANCE OF THE VIRGIN. The father and mother of Bernadette considered the apparition which their daughter had seen as anillusion. “This ts merely one of the fancies of Uttle girls,” they ‘said, carelessly ; but their neigh- bors, getting wind of what had happened, came to find out what tt all meant, much to their amaze- ment; for when they began to interrogate Berna- dette she answered them without hesitation; and neither doubt nor equivocation could be discoverea inher account of what had happened to her. Up to this period the story of Bernadette’s visions had sounded like childish tittle-tattle upon the ears of her elders—a subject to be set aside when there was work to do, and Bernadette herself sent to bed with a@ flea in her ear ior company. But the thing was now growing serious, and two ladics, named Mile. Antoinette Peyret and Mme. Millet, both sttil living at Lourdes, took the matter up and resolved to see into it—did see into it on Thursday, the 18th February, at six o’clock in the morning, and insisted upon going with Bernadette to the grotto. The Virgin then appeared for the third time to Bernadette. Mme. Millet and Mlle, Peyret wished likewise to see the celestial visitor, but could in no way contrive it, though tney had tried hard. All they could make out was Bernadette in an ecstasy of prayer and devotion, The two ladies requested Bernadette to ask the Virgin if their presence was displeasing to her. The child seemed to listen for a moment, and then answered, “You may remain here.” Then each of the three lit a waxen taper and knelt down to pray while the Winter sun broke faintly through the clouds and mists of morning. Bernadette, who was still in a Pious ecstasy continued to regard the celestial being, invisible to every eye but hers, and attera while her companions spoke to her again. “Go to her, since she beckons to you. Ask who she is and why she comes. Ask if she is @ soul in pur- gatory who implores our prayers, and request her to write down her wishes that we may fulfll them.” Mme. Millet afd Mile. Peyret had brought pea, ink and paper, which they gave to Bernadette, who then advanced towards the apparition. As she moved forward step by step the apparition began to retire into the interior of the grotto, and the child followed tt, “My lady,” said little Bernadette, “if you nave anything to communicate will you please to have the goedness to state in writing who you are and what you want?” WHAT THE VIRGIN MARY SAtD, The Divine Virgin smiled at this simple question, Her lips then parted and she said : “Lneed not write down what I have to tell you, Do me the favor to come hither every day tor fit t8en days.” “I promise to do 80," replied Bernadette. The Virgin smiled again at this answer and replied :— “And as forme I promise to make you happy; not by any means (non point) in this world, but in the other.” ‘ . Mme, Millet ahd Mile. Peyret, when informed of these particulars, asked whether they might also return every day to the grotto with Bernadette, and the Virgin told Bernadette that they mignt do go, Upon this occasion, as before, Bernadette remarked that when the “lady,” as she still called the apparition, was about to vanish, the light around her remained ‘fer @ brief space after she was gone; and that when the vision was about to appear before her, first the light made itself visible and then the lady, PUBLIC OPINION AT LOURDES. The next day a crowd of 100 persons followed Bernadette to the grotto, and the day afterwards it had increased to more than flve hundred. No one present on these occasions could see anything more than @ little child praying in an ecstasy under the shadow of a cavern ina rude rock. Nothing, absolutely nothing, and the scoffers began to jaugh at them. The doctors said that Bernadette was merely suffering from catalepsy—a common and well understood disease. The editor of a radi- cal paper printed that she was a thief. The people ——— — _ Ss sss toper, who could empty a pint of wine at a draught. ‘It was clear, too, thdt there was going to be an awful row in the town, and Prudence, so carefut Of little things, so careless of great ones, steadfastly vowed to keep out of it. The doctors began the fight. Most of them pooh-poohed the thing, ana were prepared to show that any child who held conversation with supernatural beings wanted physicking, just as Samuel did. ‘The girl 18 cata- leptic,” said the doctors, with a decisive grunt. “An! replied Dr. Dozons, who happened to be the mgst distinguished medical man in the town, nd was not fond of hasty conclusions, ‘I know all about catalepsy, but cataleptics of this sort are very scarce, and I shall be glad to see one.” Ac cordingly, this Dr. Dozons, with M. Dufo, the princi- pal advocate of the town, a number of his legai brethren, all members of the Bar; M. Pougat, Pres- taent of the Local Tribunal, and almost every other person of note at Lourdes determined te watch the Ifttle girl at her prayers in the grotto, to interrogate her sharply and bluntly by turn and to find out as they were true men if ‘they could dis- cover any signs of catalepsy or deceit in her. They found no indication whatever of either malady. D CALLING IN THE CHURCH, The local ciergy, when called upon impatiently to put a stop to the thing or to sanction it, steadily refused to interfere. The Curé of Lourdes, M. Pey- ramale (who still holds the living), was ‘then a wise, somewhat stern man, fifty fears old, “If,” Said he, using an argument not uzismiliar to Bible readers, “if these things are of God, nething cau be done with effect to oppose them; Af they are not, the moment for the Church to intervene is when it sees heresy or sacrilege on foot.” In few words, “Let us leave things to Providence,’* and the local clergy hearkened to the voice of Abbé Peyramale., When Monseigneur Laurenge, Bishop of Tarbes, was appealed to, he confirmed the cautious decision of the Curé of Lourdes. “Let us wait,” said the Bishop, and he forbade all the clergymen in his diocese to have anything to de with Bernadette or her grotto till further notice. The French priesthood determined to maintain az armed neutrality: ‘ * THE VOICE OF LIBERALISM. Then arose the liberal party in Lourdes, whe read the Sidcle newspaper and were loud about the rights of men and women, and they shouted out, “In the name of Liberty, is there no way of shut- ting up this little girl? In the name of conscience, is there no means of stopping her prayers and the prayers of those who are praying with her? In the name of Freedom, shall people be allowed to go on their knees in a grotto ?”’ EXECUTIVE AUTHORITY, “M, Dutour, the Procureur Impérial; M. Buprat, the Judge, with the Mayor, the Town Clerk and the Commissary of Police, also took alarm. A miracle in the nineteenth century, pertormei without per- mission from the authorities, seemed to them an intolerable outrage om civilization. Their honor was clearly concerned in putting a step to it. Such was the state of affairs at Lourdes on the 21st or February, 1858, which was the first Sunday in Lent and the third of tne fifteen days appointed by the Virgin for the visits of Bermadette to the grotto in the Kocks of Marsabielle. Long before sunrise au immense crowd, which could ve only numbered by thousands of people, had assembled on the bor- ders of the Gave, and swarmed over the country from every pstot within sight or hail of the grotto, As soon asthe dawn broke Berna- dette arrived as usual, attended by her mother and sister, Her mother having witnessed her ecstacies the day before had now become convinced of their supernatural character. Butshe would make no money by it and poor she and her husband lived in extreme poverty till thelr death. The child walked simply on without assurance and without embar- Tassment, Tne crowd respectfully made way fos her. She did not seem to understand that she yas an evjcct of general attention. She went inte the grotto as one who 1s. doing some plain act ot duty, and she knelt down to pray tuere. A few. moments afterwards she was transfigured again in the presence of thousands of witnesses. Her brow beamed with a mysterious light, and grew radiant with a surprising giory. But her face did not flush; she seemed rather to become paler, as if her nature were too weak to bear the presence of the apparition manifested to her without giving way. Her mouth was half opened, as that’ of one breathless with wonder and admiration. Her eyes became fixed and dreamy, and the poor little, vale gar peasant girl appeared as though ske no longer belonged to earth, but had passed into a higher sphere. Al! who saw her thus are still ready to de- clare that never before nor siuce have they seen a human face so changed. Their im- pression that she really did behold a celes- taal viston continues as strong as ever even to this day, and twenty of them separately interrogated (all persons having no object. in de ceiving me—none of them innkeepers or pious rab bish mongers or priests) have solermal, me of these facts upon'their word of hon these last three days (July 26, 1373). MEDICAL TESTIMONY. Doctor Dozons was beside her on this third morn- ing of the fifteen days that the Virgin had promised to appear before her. He watched her closely, marked all she satd and did, and he especially noticed that sie never lost consciousness of what Was going on around her, and that she was per- fectly calm and reasonable when addressed. “There is neither catalepsy, nor hallucination tm this girl,”’ suid Doctor Dozons. “Hex limbs do not Btiffen; she knows quite well what she is about. The phenomena exhibited in her case are alto~ gether unknown to medicine. Her pulse is per- fectly regular. She ts in no state of bodily or men- tal over-excitement.”” The Virgin, having enjoined Bernadette to ‘pray for the wicked,” vanished trom her sight as op previous occasions, THE LAW INTERFERES. As Bernadette was leaving the church of Lourdes with the resi of the congregation aiter vespers, om the evening of the day when she had kept her fourth appointment with the Virgin, the awful form of the French official stood up suddenly im her path like a lion, or at least that animal which wore @ lion’s skin. “In the name of the law,” said the voice speaking by the mouth of Policeman Jacomet. “What do you want, sir?” inquired the small Shepherdess, who in dress, manners or appear ance could not be distinguished from any other little peasant girl who had just said hor prayers, “| am ordered to arrest you and tage you up,” replied Jacomet. “Take me up where ?”’ said the wondering girl, “Up to the Commissary of Police. Come along,” growled Jacomet. * Bernadette told her story firmly and clearly, and Policeman Jacomet put the child under an tater- minable cross examination. Nevertneless, pe could not detect any falsehood in her narrative, and, having in vain tried te bamboozle her into’ contradicting, he abruptly put ou @ terrible aspect and roared. “You lie,” bellowed Policeman Jacomet With sid- den anger. “You are a cheat, an impostor, # unless you confess your sins I will have you marched off to prison.” It was the old story. The victim had committed no oifence; she nad dono nothing worthy of death or of bonds, and it scomed unreasonable to send her for punishment and not wherewithal to signify the crimes charged against her. “Come, thou victim,” shrieks the legal rep- resentative, “criminate thyseit.”’ “What I have said, sir,” persisted Bornadette, quite true” (c'est la vérité), “Twill lock you up if you do it again,” bawled the policeman, “I have promised,” returned the child simply, “to gO every day to the grotto and to pray there at acertain hour, Whon the time comes [am tm- pelled (je suis poussée) to do so by something within me, and which calls upon me to keep my faitn,” At this moment some tremendous thumps began to sound at the door of the room where this pro- fane work was going on. “Nobody can come tn (on nentre pas)," shouted the representative of the law. But the thumps soon banged upon the door with an evident intention of beating it dewn if it was hot opened; and when it gave way behind it loomed the burly strength of Francis Soubirons, in the wine shops, whose ideas were farthest ad- vanced, said she wanted to be @ thief and get Money by trigks, beneath discussion by gn honest the ruined miller, with an angry crowd at his vack, “T want my daughter,” said the miller hoarse: and thep When be joqked un agd saw wat be was