Might we not say, she had chosen for her motto these words of À Kempis: "Love to be unknown and accounted as nothing?" How faithfully these traits portray the true daughter of the humble Vincent de Paul!
What, in Heaven, must be the glory of those whose earthly life was one of self-abasement? Do we not already perceive a faint radiance of this glory? The obsequies of the humble servant of the poor resembled a triumph; by an almost unheard of exception, her body remains in the midst of her spiritual family; her tomb is visited by persons of every condition, who, with confidence, recommend themselves to her intercession, and many of whom assure us that their petitions have been granted. In fine, this biographical notice discloses what Sister Catherine so carefully concealed, and thus accomplishes Our Lord's promise: "He who humbleth himself, shall be exalted."
CHAPTER II.
Mary's Agency in the Church.
THIS AGENCY, EVER MANIFEST, SEEMS TO HAVE DISAPPEARED DURING THE EIGHTEENTH AND IN THE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY—MARY APPEARS IN 1830—MOTIVES AND IMPORTANCE OF THIS APPARITION—THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.
Devotion to the most Blessed Virgin is as ancient as Christianity, and we find traces of it from the very origin of the Church, among all nations who accepted the Gospel. During the first ages, it was concealed in the obscurity of the catacombs, or veiled itself under symbolical forms to escape the profanation of infidels; but when the era of peace succeeded that of bloody persecutions, it reappeared openly and in all the brilliancy of its ravishing beauty. It developed a wonderful growth, especially in the fifth century, after the Council of Ephesus had proclaimed the divine maternity of Mary, thereby sanctioning the exceptional homages rendered her above all the saints.
The image of the Virgin Mother, circulated throughout Christendom, becomes the ornament of churches, the protection of the fireside, and an object of devotion to the faithful. It is at this epoch, especially, we see everywhere gradually disappearing the last vestiges of paganism. The Immaculate Virgin, the Mother of tenderness, the Queen of Angels, the Patroness of regenerated humanity, supplants those vain idols, which for ages had fostered superstition, with its train of vices and errors.
Every Catholic admits that the Church's veneration of Mary rests upon an inviolable foundation—both faith and reason unite in justifying it. Events have proved that God Himself has authorized it, for it has often pleased Him to recompense the confidence and fidelity of her servants, by sensible marks of His power, by extraordinary graces—in a word, by true miracles. By a disposition of His Providence, He has decreed Mary's intervention in the economy of the Church and the sanctification of souls, as He did in the mysteries of the Incarnation and Redemption. Her character of Mediatrix between Heaven and earth obliges her to make this agency felt, to display the power she has received in favor of man. These manifestations of the Blessed Virgin in the Church, these marvelous proofs of her solicitude for us, form an interesting portion of the history of Catholicity. The liturgy is full of such souvenirs, and several feasts have been instituted to commemorate them. Christian countries abound in traditions of this nature; they are one of the sources whence piety derives its nourishment.
The majority of pilgrim shrines owe their origin to some supernatural intervention of the Blessed Virgin. Sometimes she has manifested herself under a visible form, most frequently to a poor shepherd or peasant; again, she has wrought a miracle, as the recovery of a sick person, the conversion of a hardened sinner, or some other prodigy betokening the power of a supernatural agency. Sometimes, a statue, a picture, apparently not fashioned by the hand of man, is accidentally discovered; the neighboring population are touched, their faith is reanimated, and soon a shrine, a chapel, or even a splendid basilica, is erected to protect this gift of Heaven, this pledge of Mary's affection. Innumerable generations repair to the spot, and new favors, new miracles, ineffable consolations, ever attest the tutelary guardianship of her, whom humble, confiding hearts have never invoked in vain. We might cite hundreds of names in support of these assertions.
The history of devotion to Mary in Catholic countries gives rise to an observation worthy of remark, that the faith of a country is in proportion to its devotion to the Blessed Virgin. We can also add that, when God wishes to revive the Faith among any people, He commissions Mary to manifest there her goodness and power.
Every age has furnished the Church with constantly increasing proofs of Mary's mediation; there are epochs in which she seems to be so lavish of her presence, that we might say she lives familiarly among mankind, and that her delights are to converse with them.
Again, on the contrary, she appears to retire, to hold herself aloof from the world, to give no more signs of her intervention. We have a striking example of this in a somewhat recent age. More than a century do we find deprived of Mary's sensible mediation; history records in all that period not one of these apparitions, not a new pilgrim shrine founded, not a signal grace obtained through the intercession of the Mother of Mercy. If a few events of this kind took place, they were at least very rare, and have remained in obscurity. This age, forsaken by the Blessed Virgin, was the eighteenth century, to which we must add the first thirty years of the nineteenth.
At this epoch, when impious rationalism endeavored to efface all idea of the supernatural, when the most firmly established truths were attacked, when among Christians the standard of virtue was lowered and character was of slight esteem in any class or station of society, we might believe that Mary, fatigued with men's ingratitude, had resolved to leave them to their own devices, and let them govern the world according to their ideas of assumed wisdom. She did, in reality, not renounce her mission of Mediatrix in favor of the Church, she still watched over her great adopted family, she listened to the prayers of her faithful servants, but she remained invisible, she no longer displayed any of those marks of tenderness her maternal heart had lavished upon them in the ages of faith.
We know the consequences of Mary's abandoning the earth, and how these sages who wished to dispense with God governed society. The history of their reign is written in letters of fire, of blood and of filth.
This revolutionary and impious naturalism was prolonged into the nineteenth century; it still exerts a deplorable influence at the present day, but it encounters opposition; the supernatural order is firmly asserted, the truths of Faith are warmly defended, the holy Church is respected and obeyed, its august Head is held in veneration to the very extremities of the earth, God's kingdom is still opposed, but it numbers devoted subjects, who, if needful, would shed their blood in its defence. Indifference, human respect, jeering scepticism, are gradually disappearing, leaving the Church with only sincere friends or declared enemies. It is a progress no one can ignore.
Whence comes this change? and what the date of so consoling a resurrection? Beyond a doubt, it owes its origin to God's infinite bounty—but the instrument, can it be ignored or contemned? Is it not the Blessed Virgin Mary? Has not her mediation been visible for forty years? Yes; it is Mary who has wrought this astonishing transformation, and through the medal styled miraculous has this series of wonders been inaugurated.
In 1830, does Mary for the first time, after an interval of a century and a half, manifest her desire of a reconciliation with earth.
It is the first sign of pardon she accords man, after her long silence.
It is the announcement of a new era which is about to commence.
The apparition of November 27th, in the chapel of the Mother House of the Daughters of Charity, Paris, appears, at first, to be of little importance, yet it was destined to have an immense bearing upon the future and its consequences were to be incalculable. Like a stream whose source is concealed at the foot