God had done His work.
God has said to the flake of snow, motionless and lost on the solitary peaks, “Thou art about to come from Myself to Myself. Thou art about to go from the inaccessible heights of the Mountain to the unfathomable depths of the Sea.” And he has sent his Servant the Sun, with his pencil of rays, to collect and to urge, with its broom of diamonds, this glittering dust, which changes itself immediately into limpid pearls. Drops of water trickle from the edge of the snow; they roll over the brow of the mountains; they bound across the rocks; they are broken among the pebbles; they unite together; they form one volume of water, and then they pursue their course together, sometimes calmly, sometimes rapidly towards the vast ocean―striking image of eternal movement in eternal repose; and, at length, they reach the valleys inhabited by the race of Adam.
“We will arrest his Drop of water,” say men, as proud as they were at Babel.
And they attempt to stem this feeble and tranquil current which descends calmly among the meadows. But the current laughs at wooden dykes, masses of earth and heaps of stones.
“We will arrest this Drop of water,” repeat the fools in their madness.
And what do they? They join together immense rocks, cementing them together invincibly. And yet, despite their efforts, the water filters through and passes through a thousand fissures. But these men are numerous; they outnumber the army of Darius; they are possessed of immense force. They stop up the thousand fissures; they replace the fallen stones, and the time comes when the Gave cannot pass further. The Gave has before it a bar higher than the Pyramids, thicker than the celebrated ramparts of Babylon. On this side of that gigantic wall the pebbles of its gigantic bed glitter in the sun.
Human pride exults with huzzahs and cries of triumph.
The wave continues, notwithstanding, to descend from the eternal heights where the voice of God has made itself heard; thousands of drops of water, arriving one by one, halt before the obstacle and rise silently before this wall of granite which men have built.
“Contemplate,” say these, “the omnipotence of our race. Look at this Titanic wall. Cast your eyes on its formation; admire its incalculable height. We have conquered for ever the torrent which is descending from the heights of the mountain.”
At this very moment a slight gush of water passes this cyclopean bar. Every one rushes to effect a stoppage. The gush of water has increased. It becomes a stream, which flows with fury, carrying before it the highest rocks of wall intended to stop its progress.
“What is that?” they exclaim, from every part of the doomed city.
“It is the Drop of water which resumes its march and passes on its way―the Drop of water to which God has spoken.”
To what purpose was your wall of Babel? What have your Titanic efforts effected? You have but changed a peaceful stream into a formidable cataract. You wished to arrest the progress of the Drop of water; it resumes it course with the impetuosity of Niagara.
How humble was this Drop of water, this infantine word to which God had said, “Follow thy course!” How little was this Drop of water, this shepherd-girl burning a taper at the Grotto, this poor woman praying and offering a bouquet to the Virgin, this old peasant humbly kneeling! How strong was this wall, how impregnable and invincible it appeared, after having occupied the attention and absorbed the labor of a great State, from the common workman up to the overseer, from the agent of the police up to the Prefect and the Minister.
The child, the good woman, the aged peasant have resumed their task. Only it is no longer a taper or a poor bouquet which bears witness to the popular faith; it is a magnificent edifice built by the faithful; it is proved by the millions contributed towards the foundations of a temple already illustrious in Christendom. It had been attempted to arrest a few isolated believers; now they come in crowds, in vast processions, with banners flying, and singing hymns. It is unheard of pilgrimages―whole populations which arrive, transported on iron roads by chariots of fire and steam. It is no longer a small country which believes, it is Europe; it is the Christian world which hastens to the spot. The Drop of water which they would have chained has become a mighty Niagara.
God had done his work. And now, as on the seventh day, when He entered on His rest, He has left to man the care of profiting by his work, and the fearful faculty of developing or compromising it. He has given them a germ of fruitful graces, as he has given them a germ of everything, charging them with its cultivation and development. They can increase it a hundred-fold if they march humbly and piously in the order of the divine scheme; they can render it sterile if they refuse to enter into it. Every good thing coming from on high is entrusted to human free will, as it was at the origin of the earthly Paradise, which contained everything good, on the condition of knowing how to work it out and keep it, ut operaretur et custodiret illum. Let us pray to God that mankind may never lose what His Providence has done for them, and that, by earthly ideas or anti-evangelic actions, they may not break, in their culpable or clumsy hands, the vessel of divine graces, the sacred vessel which has been deposited with them.
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