"Yes," she answered, "the Christ is universal." During these two months she had daily interviews with men and women crushed under the burden of all kinds of sin—a burden that weighed so heavily on her own spirit that sometimes, instead of delivering an address, she could only fall on her knees and cry to God to forgive all the sins that come from the heart of man—murders, adulteries, thefts, uncleanness, lies, blasphemies—all of which had been confessed to her. It was a time of wonderful spiritual blessing for all her comrades, who, like her, literally "lived for the people." One of them said, "We have grown as much with you in these weeks as in twenty years." To a thousand men of the _élite_ of Brussels she delivered an address—which was afterwards published—on "The Greatest Injustice of the Century." It was a woman’s mournful, tender, passionate protest against man’s sins in a city which had its twelve thousand so-called _filles de joie_, many of them of the tenderest years. One of her audience, a typical Brussels man of the world, covering his face with a hand on which flashed a diamond ring, and shaking with great sobs of anguish, cried, "I am a leper—damned already!" "Madame," said an editor, "they would hiss anybody else who said these things to them. They bear them from you, because they feel you love them." One day she received an invitation to dine with a dozen anarchists. Her comrades told her of the danger of bombs, etc., but she went, and, many years after when asked by an English Divine, "How did you get into such society?" she answered, "Extremes meet." "So you are come to talk to us," said Elisée Recluse[3] with a smile, "of justification by faith and sanctification by faith," etc. [3] Exiled from France as an anarchist, he had become a Professor in Brussels. He had been trained as a Protestant Pastor. He was the greatest geographer of modern times, the writer of _Une nouvelle géographie universelle_ (19 vols.). "Oh, no, no! I do not talk of doctrines. They never troubled me in my life. I care only for realities. You have suffered; I too have suffered. Let us begin there, and compare notes. Some of you have been in prison; I have been in prison. You have been exiled; so have I. You have wept over the injustice and cruelties of the world; so have I wept, so do I weep." And thus they found common ground, agreeing in their diagnosis of the diseases of society; differing only as to the remedy. "You believe in anarchy," said the Maréchale. "One of your number said at one of my meetings that anarchy is the most beautiful of all religions. I know a more excellent way—a shorter cut to making the world better. You fling your bombs to destroy life; how can people be converted when their heads are gone? Christ said ’Follow me to Calvary!’ He shed His _own_ blood. No one else’s. He bids us save the world by denying ourselves and taking up the Cross."