takes the initiative. "Here is water," she seems to say; "dig,
Bernadette, and you will find it." But it is no more than water. Then
she turns to her Son. "They have water," she says, "but no more." And
then He comes forth in His power. "Draw out now from all the sick beds
of the world and bear them to the Governor of the Feast. Use the
commonest things in the world--physical pain and common water. Bring
them together, and wait until I pass by." Then Jesus of Nazareth passes
by; and the sick leap from their beds, and the blind see, and the lepers
are cleansed, and devils are cast out.

Oh, yes! the parallel halts; but is it not near enough?

_Seigneur, guérissez nos malades!_

_Salut des Infirmes, priez pour nous!_




VIII.


The moment Benediction was given, the room began rapidly to fill; but I
still watched the singing crowd outside. Among others I noticed a woman,
placid and happy--such a woman as you would see a hundred times a day in
London streets, with jet ornaments in her hat, middle-aged, almost
startlingly commonplace. No, nothing dramatic happened to her; that was
the point. But there she was, taking it all for granted, joining in the
_Magnificat_ with a roving eye, pleased as she would have been pleased
at a circus; interrupting herself to talk to her neighbour; and all the