fter
blessing it, applied the unction in the form of a cross on the brow and
mouth of his patients; in other cases he used the dried plant in an
infusion.

"Only Saint Matthew remains; but here I give in, for I know of no
vegetable species that can reasonably be assigned to him."

"Nay, do not think it hopeless," cried the Abbe Plomb. "A mediaeval
legend tells us that balms exuded from his tomb; hence he was
represented as holding a branch of cinnamon, symbolical of the fragrance
of virtue, says Saint Melito."

"Well, it would be better to accept the real walls of a church, making
use of the structure, and limiting ourselves to completing the idea by
details borrowed from the symbolism of flowers."

"And the sacristy?" suggested the Abbe Gevresin.

"Since, according to the _Rationale_ of Durand of Mende, the sacristy is
the very bosom of the Virgin, we will represent it by virginal plants
such as the anemone, and trees such as the cedar, which Saint Ildefonso
compares to Our Mother. And now, if we are to furnish the instruments of
worship, we shall find in the ritual of the liturgy and in the very form
of certain plants almost precise guidance. Thus, flax, of which the
cornice and altar napery is to be woven, is indispensable; the olive and
the _balsamum_, from which oil and balm are extracted, and frankincense,
which sheds the drops of gum for the incense, are no less indicated. For
the chalice we may choose from among the flowers which goldsmiths take
as their models: the white convolvulus, the frail campanula, and even
the tulip, though, having some repute as connected with magic, that
flower is in ill odour. For the shape of the monstrance there is the
sun-flower."

"Yes," interrupted the Abbe Plomb, wiping his spectacles, "but these are
fancies borrowed simply from superficial resemblance; it is modern
symbolism, which is really not symbolism at all. And is not this the
case to a great extent with the various interpretations that you accept
from Sister Emmerich? She died in 1824."

"What does that matter?" said Durtal. "Sister Emmerich was a primitive
saint, a seer, whose body indeed lived in our day, but whose soul was
far away; she dwelt more in the Middle Ages than in ours. It might be
said indeed that she was more ancient still, for, in fact, she was
contemporary with Christ, whose life she follows step by step through
her pages.

"Hence her ideas of symbolism cannot be set aside. To me they are of
e