"O Heart (Corazón)"—the multitude repeated after him with solemn acclaim, prolonging the words—"O Heart (Corazoooón)—most lovable (amantísimo)—most lovable (amantísimooo)—most sacred (santísimo)—most sacred (santísimooo)—and honey-sweet (melífluo)—and honey-sweet (melífluoo)—of my divine Jesus—of my divine Jesus—full of flames—full of flames—of purest love (amor)—of purest love (amooor)—consume me entirely—consume me entirely—and grant me—and grant me—a new life—a new life—of love and of grace—of love and of grace;—kindle and consume—kindle and consume—my lukewarmness—my lukewarmness.—O Heart (Corazón)—O Heart (Corazoooón)—most comfortable (dulcísimo)—most comfortable (dulcísimooo)—I adore thee—I adore thee—most profoundly—most profoundly.—Grant me grace—Grant me grace—O loving Heart (Corazón)—O loving Heart (Corazooón)—to atone for—to atone for—the insults and ingratitudes—the insults and ingratitudes—done against thee (Vos)—done against thee (Vooos)—and what I pray thee for—and what I pray thee for—in this novena—in this novena—is for the greater glory of God (Dios)—is for the greater glory of God (Diooos)—and of my soul—and of my soul—Amen—Amen."
Maria merely whispered the words of the orison and kept her eyes fastened on the ground. Genoveva repeated them aloud, looking straight into the priest's face. The multitude sighed after they said Amen.
When the orison was ended, the priest repeated three Pater Nosters and three Ave Marias in honor of the three marks of the passion with which the divine Heart of Jesus showed itself to the Blessed Mother Margarita of Alacoque. The faithful knelt in reply. Immediately began a new orison like the first, addressed to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. Then the priest recommended all to beseech God through the mediation of the Sacred Hearts for whatever each most needed, and the congregation meditated silently for a few moments. Maria prayed fervently that God would make her a better woman. Genoveva spent some time in hesitation, without knowing what to ask for, and at last she asked for patience to endure the suffering of her influenza. The priest read with his snuffling voice, which drawled over the syllables like a lamentation, the following
ILLUSTRATION.
"In the city of Munich there lived not many years ago a lady of extraordinary beauty, who led such an exemplary life, that all gave her the name of saint. It happened that one day there came to her house a very lively young man to visit her, on the ground that she was one of his own cousins, and instantly the devil managed to get complete possession of him. His passion was so mad and wretched that at the end of some time she yielded to an impure sin, thus gravely offending God. After she fell into this sin she found herself sunk in a deep abyss of melancholy, for though the unhappy woman immediately sent away the one who had been the cause of her fault, she believed that she was doomed to hell. She began to lead an austere life, mortifying herself with fasting and penitence, and yet she could not escape the horrible thought. At length, by the advice of a pilgrim who happened to pass that way, she determined to make a novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. On the night of the fifth day of constant prayer, being in bed, she heard a great disturbance, and saw flying from her house a demon, horribly howling and leaving behind him an intolerably fetid odor. On the following morning she found herself cured of her melancholy, and very confident of the infinite mercy of God."
The faithful crowded closer around the pulpit to hear the illustration, and they took in with delight its romantic flavor. The novena ended with a sermon in Latin. The congregation repeated an Ave Maria and a Credo. The clergyman descended from the desk.
There was a loud and prolonged noise in the church. The throng of women spread out, dispersed, moved to and fro, gossiping and chattering all at once. The clattering of the wooden shoes again was heard on the damp and filthy blocks of the pavement. An acolyte began to snuff out the candles burning around the image of Jesus and, standing on the altar, with his shorn head and mischievous eyes made profane grimaces at the other boys, whose mothers kept them on their knees saying their prayers. A few of the clergy issued from the confessionals and crossed over to the sacristy with long strides. One was detained in the centre of the church by various ladies, and stood talking with them a long time, though with evident anxiety to escape from them. Through the leaded panes of the great oriels poured all the daylight evaporating the mysteriousness of the temple, and making it seem melancholy, wretched, and dirty, as in reality it was. Two or three gay fellows, with coat-collars turned up and sleeves well pulled down, came in, casting quick glances of curiosity at all the places. A sacristan took it into his head to throw wide open the wooden screen at the door, and a restless, noisy multitude, who had not been early enough to take part in the novena, surged into the vast room to listen to the word of a missioner, who at that moment mounted the pulpit with a contemplative, zealous gesture.
When he stood up dominating the multitude, with the sacred dove made of painted wood above his head, the noise gradually subsided. The congregation, wonderfully increased, again crowded together beneath the lecturer. There were many men who came not out of pure devotion, but rather with the intention of judging the sermon from a literary point of view.
Meantime great throngs of people came pouring in through the door, disturbing the faithful, and hindering the establishment of silence. Maria and Genoveva were pulled to and fro many times by the fluctuation of the multitude. The orator waited vainly for the bustle to cease. At last he extended his arm in academic style toward the door, and shouted emphatically, as though he were in the heart of his discourse,--
"Close that screen!"