“We will stop these drops of water,” says this race of man, as proud now as in the days of Babel. And they undertake to dam up this weak and quiet stream as it gently crosses their fields. But the stream laughs at their dikes of wood, 114 earth, and pebbles. “We will stop these drops of water,” the fools repeat in their delirium. And they heap up enormous rocks; they join them together with impenetrable cement. And notwithstanding, the water does leak through in a thousand places. But the men are numerous--they have a force greater than the armies of Darius. They stop up the thousand fissures, they fill up the cracks, they replace the fallen stones; and at last a time comes when the stream cannot pass by. It has before it a barrier higher than the pyramids, and thicker than the famous walls of Babylon. Beyond this gigantic obstacle, the pebbles of its dry bed are shining in the sun. Human pride shouts its pæan of triumph. Meanwhile the water continues to descend from those eternal heights where it has heard the voice of God; and millions of drops, coming one by one, stop before the barrier and rise silently against this granite wall which millions of men have built. “Look,” say the men, “at the immense power of our race. See this enormous wall. Raise your eyes to its summit; admire its astonishing height. We have for ever conquered this stream which comes from the mountains.” At this moment, a thin sheet of water passes over the cyclopean barrier. They run up; but the sheet has thickened--it is a river which is now falling, scattering on all sides the upper rocks of the wall. “What is the matter?” they cry on all sides in the doomed city. It is the drop of water to which God has spoken, and which proceeds invincibly on its way. What has your Babel-like wall accomplished? What have you done with your herculean efforts? You have changed a quiet stream into a formidable cataract. You tried to stop the drop of water; but it now resumes its course with the violence of Niagara. How humble was this drop of water, this word of a child to which God had said, “Pursue thy course!” How insignificant was this drop of water--this shepherdess burning a candle at the Grotto--this poor woman praying and offering a bouquet to the Blessed Virgin--this old peasant on his knees! And how strong, how apparent, impassable, and invincible was this enormous wall, upon which all the force of a great nation, from the policeman and the gendarme to the prefect and the minister, had labored for eight months!