VIII.
In the name of his see, or, rather, in that of the church, Mgr. Laurence purchased from the town of Lourdes the grotto and the surrounding lands, and the whole group of Massabielle rocks. M. Lacadé was still mayor. He it was who proposed to the municipal council to cede to the church, the bride of Christ, those places which had been consecrated for ever by the appearance of his heavenly Mother. He, also, signed the deed of transfer.
M. Rouland authorized the sale, and also the erection of a church in perpetual memory of the apparition of the Blessed Virgin to Bernadette Soubirous, in memory of the fountain and the numberless miracles which had attested the heavenly visions.
While the vast temple dedicated to the Immaculate Conception was slowly rising, stone upon stone, Our Lady of Lourdes continued to shower blessings and graces upon her clients. At Paris and Bordeaux, in Perigord, Brittany, and Anjou, amid solitary and rural scenes and in the heart of popular cities, Our Lady of Lourdes was invoked, and answered with unquestionable signs of her power and goodness.
Before closing our recital and presenting the picture of things as they now exist, let us narrate two of these divine histories. One of them forms an episode in the life of the writer of these pages which nothing can ever efface from his memory. We give it as we wrote it down nearly seven years ago.
PART X.
I.
During my whole life, I had always enjoyed the blessing of good sight. I was able to distinguish objects at a great distance, and also to read with ease when my book was close to my eyes. I never suffered the least weakness of sight after whole nights passed in study. I often wondered and rejoiced at the strength and clearness of my vision. Thus, it was a great surprise and a cruel disenchantment when in June and July, 1862, I felt my eyesight becoming gradually weak, unable to work at night, and, finally, incapable of any use, so that I was obliged to give up altogether reading and writing. If I chanced to pick up a book, after reading three or four lines, sometimes at the first glance, I felt such weakness in the upper part of my eyes as to render it impossible to continue. I consulted several physicians, and principally the two famous oculists, Desmares and Giraud-Teulon.
The remedies prescribed by them were of little or no avail. After a slight rest, and a treatment principally composed of iron, I had a slight respite, and once read during a considerable portion of the afternoon. But, the following day, I relapsed into my former condition. Then I began to try local remedies, applications of cold water on the ball of the eye, cupping on the neck, a general hydropathic treatment, and alcoholic lotions around the eyes. Sometimes I experienced a slight relief from the weariness which generally oppressed them, but this was only for a moment. In short, my disease assumed all the appearances of a chronic and incurable malady.
According to advice, I condemned my eyes to absolute repose. Not content with putting on blue eye-glasses, I had left Paris, and was living in the country with my mother, at Coux, on the banks of the Dordogne. I had taken with me a young person, who acted as my secretary, writing at my dictation, and who read to me the books which I wished to consult.
September had arrived. This state had lasted for three months. I began to be seriously alarmed. I felt a gloomy foreboding which I dared not communicate to any one. My family shared the same apprehensions, but likewise shrank from manifesting them. We were both convinced that my sight was gone, but both sought to reassure one another, and to conceal our mutual anxiety.