"In fact," he went on after a moment's reflection, "one does see Her in the strictest sense of the word—or at least, can fancy that She is there. If there is a spot where I can call up Her face, Her attitude—in short Her portrait—it is at Chartres."
"And how is that?"
"Well, Monsieur l'Abbé, we have no trustworthy information as to our Mother's face or figure. Her features are unknown—intentionally, I feel sure, in order that each one may contemplate Her under the aspect that best pleases him, and incarnate Her in the ideal beauty of his dreams.
"For instance, Saint Epiphanius describes her as tall, with
olive eyes arched and very black eyebrows, an aquiline nose a rosy mouth, and a golden-toned skin. This is the vision of an oriental.
"Take Maria d'Agreda, on the other hand. She thinks of the Virgin as slender, with black hair and eyebrows, eyes dark and greenish, a straight nose, scarlet lips, and a brown skin. You recognize here the Spanish ideal of beauty imagined by the Abbess.
"Again in, turn to Sister Emmerich. According to her, Mary was fair-haired, with large eyes, a rather long nose, a narrow-pointed chin, a clear skin, and not very tall. Here we have the description given by a German who does not admire dark beauty:
"And yet both of these women were real Seers, to whom the Madonna appeared, assuming in each case the only aspect that could fascinate them; just as she was seen to be the model of mere prettiness—the only type they could understand—by Mélanie at La Salette and Bernadette at Lourdes".
"Well, I, who am no visionary, and who must appeal to my imagination to picture Her at all, I fancy I discern Her under the forms and expressions of the cathedral itself; the features are a little confused in the pale splendour of the great rose window that blazes behind Her head like a nimbus. She smiles, and Her eyes, all light, have the incomparable effulgence of those pure sapphires which light up the entrance to the nave. Her slight form is diffused in a clear robe of flame, striped and ribbed like the drapery of the so-called Berthe. Her face is white like mother-of-pearl, and her hair, a circular tissue of sunshine, radiates in threads of gold. She is the Bride of Canticles. Pulchra ut Luna, electa ut Sol.
"The church which is Her dwelling-place, and one with Her, is luminous with Her grace; the gems of the windows sing to Her praise; the slender columns shooting upwards, from the pavement to the roof, symbolize Her aspirations and desires; the floor tells of Her humility; the vaulting, meeting to form a canopy over Her, speaks of Her charity; the stones and glass echo hymns to Her. There is nothing, down to the military aspect of certain details of the sanctuary, the chivalrous touch which is a reminiscence of the Crusades—the sword-blades and shields of the lancet windows and the