Laws and regulations have been laid down, by which a certain number only of dead bodies are allowed for medical science; but these rules are frequently infringed, and too much precipitation has often been the cause of needless distress in poor families.
When the necessary formalities have been gone through, the corpses in the amphitheatre are divided into two series: those claimed by relatives, and those which are left to public charity.
We shall see what becomes of both, after a few preliminary considerations.
The mortal remains of all Christians are sacred in the eyes of Catholics. We never erect a temple, or build an altar, without consecrating a spot therein for the relics of a saint, which lie thus honored, like the corner-stone of an edifice.
Neither does the church authorize Mass to be said in any place not having a consecrated place for relics; and on such alone may the body and blood of Christ rest during the holy sacrifice.
Our belief in the resurrection of the body; our assurance that Christians will, on a future judgment day, either rise in glory or stand to hear their eternal condemnation, renders it impossible for us to look on the mortal remains of Christians as do materialists and the professors of unbelief. What to the latter is nothing but a dead body, a fit object for study, is to us a sacred deposit whence immortality will germinate. It is, therefore, no wonder if Catholics are so solicitous to obtain proper burial for such remains. In this instance, as in all others, Christianity is in perfect harmony with the tenderest aspirations of our kindred.
When it so happens that relatives of the deceased can afford to pay down the sum of fourteen francs (eight for a coffin, and six for the municipal tax), a bier is provided, and the body is buried; if the deceased leaves behind enough money to cover the above expenses, he is buried in like manner, and, if any sum remains over, it is employed according to the will expressed by the deceased. In some cases, survivors are willing to incur more expense than that which is included in an outlay of fourteen francs; for, although this insignificant sum is sufficient for a coffin, it does not suffice for a shroud nor for any body-linen.[47] Moreover, if the family cannot afford to pay fifty francs over and above the fourteen required, the body is interred in the common grave.
The common grave! What a train of sad thought this lugubrious idea gives rise to! It is no longer, thank God! what it was; the bodies are not now thrown, as before, pell-mell in a deep grave. A coffin is provided for each, according to the rule given above; but even in our days, the burial of a poor man is not what it should be.
Fancy a long ditch, in which the coffins are sunk as close as possible, and in juxtaposition; the spaces between are filled up with children's coffins, so as to leave no intervening space. When the soil is covered over this vast grave, it is not possible for each to have a cross above, and it is impossible, likewise, for relatives to know the exact spot occupied by the remains of a beloved parent. Grave-diggers have, of late, had orders to allow more room for the coffins; but until a radical rule is enforced, and until each corpse is authorized to have a separate grave, relatives of the departed are at the mercy of grave-diggers.
However narrow and confined the space thus left for each coffin in the common grave, that small share is only allowed for five years. After that short length of time, the bodies are exhumed, and the bones gathered to the catacombs. The big ditch, now vacated, again yawns for what the diggers call "a fresh set," and soon the work of decomposition again silently commences for another term of five years, and so on for all time.