The Catholic World, Vol. 23, April, 1876-September, 1876.: A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and ScienceVarious
Religion
The Catholic World, Vol. 23, April, 1876-September, 1876.: A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and Science
Various
Catholic Church -- Periodicals
Bolanden’s book has, of course, an _arrière-pensée_, which is so
evident through the story that it rather spoils the mere literary
value of the book, as “a purpose” more or less cramps any literary
production. But, as a clever contemporary says, “In the hot
theological controversies of the present day it is hard to treat any
subject, even remotely connected with ecclesiastical history, without
betraying a ‘tendency.’” Bolanden is outspoken enough as to his, which
has for object the present Prussian laws against religious freedom.
But we think we may safely say that the first book of the series will
be the most original and interesting, illustrating as it does a period
so little known and not yet become, like the middle ages, the
hackneyed theme of every novelist, from first to fifth rate, of every
civilized and literary European nationality.
[22] Conrad von Bolanden, a brief sketch of whose life has
already appeared in these pages, requires no
introduction to the readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, who
will know him best as the author of _The
Progressionists_, _Angela_, _The Trowel or the Cross_,
etc.
[23] This reminds one of the Aztec war-god Quatzacoatl.
[24] _Les Martyrs_, Châteaubriand.
[25] Tacitus, _Germania_.
SACERDOS ALTER CHRISTUS.[26]
The priest, “another Christ” is he,
And plights the church his marriage-vows;
Thenceforth in every soul to see
A daughter, sister, spouse.
Then let him wear the triple cord
Of father’s, brother’s, husband’s care;
In this partaking with his Lord
What angels cannot share.
O sweet new love! O strong new wine!
O taste of Pentecostal fire!
Inebriate me, draught divine,
With Calvary’s desire!
“I thirst!” He cried. The dregs were drained:
But still “I thirst!” his dying cry.
While one ungarnered soul remained,
The cup too soon was dry.
And shall not _I_ be crucified?
What though the fiends, when all is done,
Make darkness round me, and deride
That not a soul is won?
God reaps from very loss a gain,
And darkness here is light above.
Nor ever did and died in vain
Who did and died for love.
1871
[26] St. Bernard.
LABOR IN EUROPE AND AMERICA.[27]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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