An account of the extraordinary graces obtained by means of the Immaculate Conception Medal will be for all Christian souls a source of precious benedictions. At the view of these prodigies of mercy, these marvelous cures and conversions, the reader will be led to thank God and glorify His Holy Mother; those who have already loved Mary will be incited to still greater love; careless Christians, those who are tried by suffering, those who have the misfortune to be in a state of sin, will feel their confidence awakened, and they will tenderly invoke her whom the Church so justly styles Health of the weak, Refuge of sinners, Comforter of the afflicted.
Experience proves this. Every one knows, moreover, that an example of virtue or an event which clearly reveals God's agency, acts much more powerfully on the soul than a simple consideration of the subject or a series of arguments. "Verba movent, exempla trahunt—words can move, example attract."
We also hope for something more from the publication of these accounts—we hope by them to convince the faithful that Mary's dearest title is that of Immaculate, and that she knows not how to refuse the petitions of those who, with lively faith, invoke her by this dearest title. It is, moreover, the Church of Rome which thus reveals, as it were, all the merciful tenderness of Mary's Heart, and presents us the devotion to her spotless Conception as the sure means of enriching ourselves from the exhaustless treasures of that Heart and according to all our necessities. "Sacra Virgo Maria ... sentiant omnes tuam juvamen quicumque celebrant tuam sanctam Conceptionem;"[19] and surely this prayer of the Mother of all churches—prayer which we might readily style prophetic—has long since been answered. We have recently seen a compilation, made in 1663 by a Jesuit father, with the approbation of the Ordinary, containing an account of sixty-two conversions or cures effected in different places by the invocation of Mary conceived without sin, and apparently nothing less than miraculous. It is also a well known fact, mentioned in the life of B. Peter Fourrier, founder of the Congregation of Notre Dame, that these simple words, "Mary was conceived without sin," worn with faith, brought relief to a multitude of sick persons during an epidemic. The same means obtained not less visible protection at Nemours, when that city was in imminent danger of being sacked, and also at Paris in 1830. But we confine ourselves to the graces obtained through the Miraculous Medal. Our choice of examples will show that, in bestowing especial favors upon France, the Immaculate Mary gives no less striking proofs of her protection in other countries where the medal is known and piously worn.
Among the traits of protection obtained through the medal in the diocese of Paris, nine (three conversions and six cures) underwent a detailed examination, and were pronounced veritable by the Promoter in the investigation of 1836. We mention them in this edition, adding to each one's title the word—Attested.
Quite a number of incidents printed in the edition of 1842 we have omitted here, in order to insert (without greatly increasing the size of the volume) more recent accounts equally reliable, thus proving that the medal is not less miraculous in our day than at the time of the apparition.
The extraordinary graces of which it has been the instrument, would have formed an uninterrupted series from the year 1832 till the present, if unfortunately, neglecting to keep note of them, an interval of several years had not crept into the documents in our possession.
For the future, please God, no such omission will occur, and all the authenticated accounts which come to our knowledge will be carefully registered for the glory of Mary conceived without sin, and the edification of her servants.
CONVERSION OF A SOLDIER AT ALENÇON—1833.
The 14th of April, 1833, there was brought to the hospital of Alençon (Orne) a sick soldier, who came from the hospital of Vitré (Ile-et-Vilaine). His impiety there had greatly distressed the hospitable ladies of St. Augustin, in charge of that establishment, a circumstance communicated to us by persons who witnessed the insulting manner in which he rewarded the kind attentions of their unfailing charity. Arrived at the hospital Alençon, we soon saw what he was, irreligious, impious, and brutally rude. The chaplain hastened to visit him, and condole with him on his sufferings; and as the opening of the Jubilee very naturally paved the way for a few words on that extraordinary grace, he gently exhorted the sick man to imitate the example of other soldiers who were preparing to profit by it, but his words were answered by insults. The chaplain did not insist, and contented himself for several days with merely visiting him, and kindly sympathizing with his sufferings; the sick man scarcely replied, and seemed much annoyed, even at the visits.
The Daughters of Charity in charge of this hospital, met with no better treatment, notwithstanding the kind attentions they lavished on him. His malady increased; seeing that it was becoming very necessary for him to receive the consolations of religion, the chaplain urged him again to make his peace with the good God, but he was answered by blasphemies. "Ah! yes, the good God, little He cares for me." In answer to this the abbé made a few observations full of charity, and the patient continued: "Your good God does not like the French; you say He is good and He loves me; if He loved me, would he afflict me like this, have I deserved it?" These outbursts of impiety only inflamed the charitable zeal of the minister of a God who died for sinners, and inspired him with forcible language, to depict the justice and merciful goodness of the Lord. The sick man soon interrupted him by invectives: "You worry me; let me alone; go away from here; I need neither you nor your sermons," and he turned over to avoid seeing the priest. His treatment to the Sisters was no better; and he continued to utter the most horrible blasphemies against religion, and those who reminded him of it; he carried this to such a degree, that the other soldiers were indignant, especially at his outrageous behaviour, after any one has spoken to him about his soul, or there had been prayers or a little spiritual reading in the room—he appeared dissatisfied, until he had vomited forth his stock of blasphemies and imprecations. Some days passed and nothing was said to him on the subject of religion, but every care for his bodily comfort was redoubled; no one now scarcely dared hope for his return to God, for his malady increased, and likewise his impiety; all contented themselves with praying for him, and recommending him to the prayers of others. The Sister in charge of that ward, having great confidence in the Blessed Virgin's promises to all under the protection of the medal, felt urged interiorly to hang one at the foot of his bed; she yielded to the apparent inspiration, and, unknown to him, the medal was there. He still showed no signs of relenting, and even became indignant when some of the other soldiers prepared themselves, by confession, to gain the Jubilee. The medal had now been six days hanging at the foot of his bed, and many and fervent were the prayers offered up to God for this miserable creature's conversion, although nearly every one despaired of it. One day, when all the convalescents of the ward were assisting at Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, the Sister approached his bed, detached the medal and held it up before him. "Look," said she, "at this medal, it is miraculous; I hung it to your bed several days ago, and thereby put you under the Blessed Virgin's especial protection. With her powerful assistance, I confidently hope for your conversion. Look at this good Mother, she is praying for you now." He never raised his eyes, but already was grace working in his heart, for he showed no signs of irritation which had heretofore been the inevitable consequence of mentioning religion. Profiting by this, the Sister spoke to him of God's mercy, and begged him again to cast a glance at the medal she had just hung at the foot of his bed on the inner side. After being repeatedly urged, he opened his eyes and looked towards it. "I do not see your medal," said he to the Sister, "but I see the candle which, doubtless, you have just lit; yes, it is certainly a light." It was five o'clock in the afternoon, June 13th; his bed was so placed that it could not receive any reflection of the sun's rays, and the chaplain, after examining the spot felt assured, that at no time could a reflection strike it in that direction. "You are mistaken," said she, "look at it carefully." He repeated in the most positive manner, "I see it distinctly, it is certainly a light." Astonished beyond expression, but fearing her patient's sight was affected, the Sister showed him other and more distant objects; these he distinguished perfectly, and continued to see this light for a quarter of an hour. During this interval, the Sister spoke to him of God; suddenly, fear and love filled his heart. "I do not wish to die as I am!" he exclaimed, "tell the chaplain to come immediately and hear my confession." Hearing one of the other patients utter an oath, "oh! make that miserable man hush!" said he, to the Sister; "oh! I beg you to make him stop swearing."
"I was still ignorant," says the chaplain, "of the origin and effects of this medal. It was a very familiar object, and I regarded it as nothing more than an ordinary medal. When told that the sick man wanted me, I went joyfully, and saw for myself what a complete change had taken place in him. Congratulating and encouraging him, without knowing the cause of this change, I hastened to ask him if he wished me to hear his confession. He replied in the affirmative, and made it without delay; I had every opportunity of admiring his good will and the pleasure he manifested at each repetition of my visit. I endeavored to make him explain himself, and asked if he had not acted from mere civility or a desire to rid himself of the importunities by which he had been so long beset. "No," he answered, "I sent for you, because I wished seriously to make my confession and arise from my state of sin." Henceforth he was no longer the same man; he was now as docile, patient, gentle and edifying in all his words and ways, as he had formerly been unmanageable, brutal and scandalous. He eagerly desired the Last Sacraments, which, after proper preparation, he received with lively faith. His happiness seemed beyond expression, and though suffering intensely, no one ever heard the least sign of impatience escape his lips. He continued to give the most unequivocal signs of a true conversion; peace and resignation were depicted in his countenance, and to his last sigh, which he breathed June 27th, 1833, did he persevere most faithfully.