ed up to that ancient lady in heaven
to avert her wrath from the infidel city which has so insulted her.
In one sense the Archbishop is right. The Church is desecrated in the
strict etymological meaning of the word. It has been converted from
sacred to secular uses. But in the secondary meaning of the word the
building is not desecrated, but honored, by being made a fit receptacle
for the mortal remains of Victor Hugo.
A government decree and the removal of the cross on top of the church
were the only steps necessary to its desecration. The consecrated
character of the temple is gone. To the carnal eye the structure remains
unchanged, within and without, except for the loss of a crucifix; but
it is quite possible that a priestly nose would be able to scent the
absence of the Spirit. The Holy Ghost has fled, angels no more haunt
the nave and aisles, and St. Genevieve hides her poor head in grief and
humiliation. No doubt; yet we dare say the building will stand none the
less firmly, and if it should ever be pulled down, its materials would
fetch as much in the market as if they were saturated with divinity.
Consecration is, after all, nothing but a priestly trick. What sensible
man believes that the Holy Ghost, if such a being exist, is at the beck
and call of every Catholic or Protestant bishop? Can the "universal
spirit" dwell exclusively in certain places? Can the third person of the
Trinity have sunk into such an abject state as to dodge in and out of
buildings, according as he is wanted or not? Is there any difference
that the nose, or any other sensitive organ, can detect between a
consecrated church and an unconsecrated chapel? Can the geologist or
the chemist discern any difference between the consecrated and the
unconsecrated division in a cemetery? Is the earth affected by priestly
mutterings? Do the corpses lie any more peacefully, or decompose any
more slowly, for the words pronounced over the mould that covers them?
Or is there any appreciable virtue in the consecrated water, with which
the Protestant and Catholic are alike baptised, and with which the
latter sprinkles himself periodically as a preservative against evil?
Season finds no difference; it is perceived only by Faith, which may be
defined as the faculty which enables a man to see what does not exist.
WALT WHITMAN. *
* April, 1892.
Walt Whitman's death can have taken no one by surprise. For years he had
been at the brink of the
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