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Updated: June 15, 2025
Look at that disreputable trull, a street slut tired of shouting "This way to the boats!" till she falls fainting. This is the Magnificat, the Blessed Virgin. That epileptic boy with outstretched arms is Jesus in the Temple.
For the heart and conscience can hear nothing more soothing, when they feel their misery; after this they are anxious, they smell the provision afar off and cannot be satisfied. So also speaks Mary, in the Magnificat: "The hungry also has he filled with good things."
Daily service was new to him, and was accepted of course as college discipline, but after a time it gathered force and power over his mind, and as the Magnificat had been a revelation to Henry Martyn, so Charles Mackenzie's affection first fixed upon the General Thanksgiving, and on the commemoration of the departed in the prayer for the Church Militant.
As the "Magnificat" proceeded, he seemed to enter into the very tomb and share in the Bishop's dust. "I stood beside you," he might almost have cried, "when in the last savage encounter you faced them on the very steps of the altar, striking down two of them with your fists, falling at last, bleeding from a hundred wounds, but crying at the very end, 'God is my right!"
But the scourge returned many times; in 1539, in 1573, and in 1589 lightning fell on the new belfry. Then a century elapsed before the visitation was repeated; in 1701 the same spire was struck again. "It then stood uninjured till 1825, when a thunder-bolt fell and shook it severely on Whit Monday while the Magnificat was being chanted at Vespers.
For one thing, to be sure, the Canticles in the evening service could always be sung when Lucy's sweet clear voice was there to lead the uncertain melody; and it was good to see her singing the 'Magnificat' with that serious sweet face, "full of grace," like Mary's own.
Worldly joys must vanish, worldly hopes decay, but Saint Zita's and Reverend Mother will be here waiting for you." How she longs for the peace and quiet of the old home and the comforting touch of Reverend Mother's kind arms about her! What is it that the nuns are singing! The "Magnificat."
And this wealth of holy things seemed to be flung down like a grain of incense upon the fragile altar raised to Love beneath the eternal throne of a jealous and avenging God. Indeed, in the joy of the nun there was little of that awe and gravity which should harmonize with the solemnities of the Magnificat.
The Magnificat, the lovely lyric which comes from the lips of Mary, has been sung during many centuries as one of the chief canticles of the Christian Church. Its occasion was a visit paid to her kinswoman, Elisabeth, by Mary shortly after she had received the promise of the birth of a son.
A sound of chanting had burst forth; the voices in the procession no longer called for the healing of the sick, now that the cortege had extricated itself from amidst the crowd. The miracle had been worked, and they were celebrating it with the full power of their lungs, amidst the pealing of the bells and the quivering gaiety of the atmosphere. "Magnificat anima mea Dominum" they began.
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