“A fortnight after the event, the writer of this narrative[64] saw the woman, and heard from her own lips, as well as from the Priest, the account of the miracle, which he has related as nearly as he can remember it.
“We are not to be anxious for miracles, nor to crave after signs; but when it pleases God to work such as this, it seems to be right for His glory, and for the dignity of the Most Holy Sacrament, that His mercy should be made known; and is it not joy to every faithful heart, that the Lord should manifest His power over all His works, and show to men His tender compassion of the sick and suffering?”
II. The second case is thus related. It bears a remarkable similarity to that just set forth:—
“Anne de Cléry, the subject of the extraordinary cure about to be recorded, was at school in the Convent of the Sacred Heart, at Metz, in the year 1855. She was then thirteen years of age, and her health and spirits good. Previously she had lived two years in Africa, where her father still resides,[65] and occupies the post of Notary-General to the Imperial Court at Algiers. Madame de Cléry’s health having suffered from the climate, she returned to Metz with her two daughters, the youngest of whom—Anne—was very uneasy about her mother’s health, and prayed fervently for her recovery, offering herself to suffer the pains of sickness in her stead. Anne’s illness, which was of a very distressing nature, commenced in the Holy Week of 1856, and continued steadily to increase, in spite of the prescriptions of the first physicians at Metz, Aix in Savoy, and Paris. Remedies of every possible kind—some of them of a terribly severe character—were tried, but without the smallest result, except to increase the sufferings of the poor patient. The Paris physician, at length (in the year 1857), pronounced her case to be incurable. He says: ‘Mdlle. Anne is labouring under the disease known by the name of “muscular and atrophical paralysis.” I very much apprehend that no remedies can touch the disease.’ The sufferings of the poor girl were continuous and severe. Her limbs were deprived of power and strength; they shrank and contracted, and the muscles under each knee produced a sort of knot which no power on earth could untie. She would be, as far as man could foresee, a cripple as long as she lived. Anne de Cléry was, however, resigned to the Will of God, and supported her heavy trial by a deep piety and constant prayer. At times her faith suggested the possibility of a miraculous cure; but she scarcely hoped or wished for such a wonderful favour. She had a particular devotion to the Blessed Sacrament; and every week the priest brought her the Holy Communion, which was her greatest support and consolation. She employed her time, when able, though in the recumbent position, and unable to lift her head, in embroidering altar-cloths, and making artificial flowers for the adornment of the sanctuary. It was while thus preparing for the devotion known as ‘the Forty Hours’ Adoration’ in the parochial church of S. Martin at Metz, in the year 1865, that the thought sometimes crossed her mind that she might be cured by the Blessed Sacrament. But she was slow to encourage an idea which might be an illusion, and deprive her of her resignation and peace of mind. The devotion above mentioned was to take place on the 12th, 13th, and 14th of June. On the first two days it was impossible to carry her to the church (whither she had not been taken for a long while), her pains were so severe; but on the third day, with the greatest difficulty, and at the cost of much suffering, after having received Communion, she was carried to the church by her maid Clémentine, who sat on a bench and held her on her knees. Madame de Cléry and Mdlle. de Coetlosquet knelt close beside her; but neither Anne nor her friends were expecting the extraordinary event about to follow.
“After a few moments’ rest Anne became absorbed in devotion, and prayed as she often did at the moment of Communion: ‘Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst cure me.’ At the same instant she felt so violent a pain in her whole body, that it was all she could do not to scream out. She prayed for strength to bear it, and resigned herself to God’s will. Then, she says, she felt filled with faith and hope, and became conscious that she was cured. Anne threw herself immediately upon her knees and said to her companions, ‘Pray, pray; I am cured!’ Madame de Cléry overcome with emotion, in a state of bewilderment, led her daughter out of the church, scarcely believing the evidence of her senses when she saw her standing alone and able to walk. She ascertained that the knots under her daughter’s knees had entirely disappeared; and then Anne returned to the church, where she remained kneeling in praise and thanksgiving before the Blessed Sacrament for three-quarters of an hour, without feeling the least fatigue.
“Her cure was complete; all the ailments that had afflicted her disappeared, leaving behind no trace of illness. Eleven days after her cure, Anne walked through the streets of Metz in a procession of the Blessed Sacrament, which lasted an hour and a quarter, to the astonishment and admiration of all who had known her former sad condition. Her physician, when he saw her rise and walk to meet him, said, ‘Mademoiselle, what men could not effect, God has done.’”[66]
The Editor has been furnished with many similar accounts; some coming before him on slender testimony: others on testimony which it is impossible either to weaken or to reject. In some cases strange and supernatural events which have occurred of late years—beautiful glimpses of the unseen world—are treasured up by those who were the direct subjects of them, though considerable difficulty is experienced in obtaining such satisfactory attestations of their authentication, (owing to the fact that persons naturally shrink from publicity,) as would warrant their appearance in this volume.
Before this chapter is closed, however, it may be well to add the following, from the pen of an English clergyman well known to the Editor, which possess some inherent interest:
“This passed under my own eyes a few weeks back. A little child, three years old, daughter of highly-respectable but poor parents, was accidentally burnt to death—fell upon the grate, and lingered only some two hours, it might have been supposed in frightful tortures. Her mother, who blamed herself for leaving the child even for a moment, seemed in imminent danger of losing her reason, and was in a state of terrible despair. The little one raised herself to say, ‘Mother, don’t cry! I’m going to die;’ and then pointing, added, ‘Don’t you see that Good Man who stands there and waits for me?’ This from a child of three years old.
“Let those who choose, elect to believe that this was an optical delusion: those who honestly believe that the angels of little children do behold His Father’s face, and doubt not that angels minister to the heirs of salvation, will probably arrive at a different conclusion.”[67]