The Moveable Feasts, Fasts, and Other Annual Observances of the Catholic Church

The full text of this work follows the table of contents, beginning with the first treatise or chapter listed above, in the order given there.

MOVEABLE FEASTS, FASTS,

AND OTHER

ANNUAL OBSERVANCES

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH;

BY THE

REV. ALBAN BUTLER »

LIFE 0 Fi TH E, A U T H 0 R,

BPTLER, ESQ.

TO WHICH 28 ADDED,

A CONTINUATION OF THE FEASTS AND FASTS;

BY A CATHOLIC PRIEST.

DUBLIN:

PUBLISHED BY JAMES DUFFY,

25, ANQLESEA-STREET ;

SOLD BY THE CATHOLIC BOOK SOCIETY,

5, ESSEX-BRIDGE.

MDCCCXXXIX.

t A.’

PROM THE STEAM PRESS OF A. THOM, 86, ABBEY-STREET, DUBLIN.

TO THB

EIGHT REV. JOHN MURPHY, D.D.,

tSg tf)e Grace of Gofc, antr bg t$e fcutjodtg of tf^e ffcolg S6ee,

CATHOLIC BISHOP OP CORK,

AND FATHER IN CHBI8T.

My Lord,

Feelings of gratitude, respect, and veneration, induce me to dedicate this Edition of “ Butler’s Feasts and Fasts” to your Lordship*

The recollection of past kindness, would, perhaps, make gratitude on my part appear more a duty than a spontaneous offering of affection ; but as you, my Lord, do good without seeking human reward, more must depend upon the feelings of the heart than the expression of the lips, or the offerings of the hand. For a number of years, and under varied cir- cumstances, I have received the paternal counsel, exalted patronage, and generous protection of your Lordship. For such undeserved support, I feel more grateful than my words can possibly convey, and trust, that my future exertion may, in some measure, merit its continuance.

But, apart from the remembrance of benefits conferred, k the ardent zeal for the promotion of God’s honor— the

DEDICATION.

advancement of religion and enlightened piety— ever evinced by your Lordship, establish a claim upon our veneration and respect.

Deign then, my Lord, to accept this small, but lasting tribute of a grateful heart, and make due allowance for a tongue that cannot in any measure express the feelings that animate it.

May you, my Lord, long continue to rule c< the flock of God,” and to govern in the Church “ over whom the Holy Ghost has placed you Bishop,” with the spirit of wisdom, of fortitude, and piety ; and “ when the Prince of pastors shall appear,” may you, my Lord, “ receive a never-fading crown of glory.”

I have the honor to remain,

Your Lordship’s most devoted And ever grateful Servant,

JAMES DUFFY.

25, Anglebea-btbeet, Dublin.

17 th Augutt , 1889.

* ' *

4 »

CONTENTS.

Paob

Pas? age*

Life of tbs AuTHos • • • • • i.

CHAPTER 1. The First Treatise on the Lord's Day

Crap. I. On the Jewish Sabbath • • . .1

Chap. II. On the Institution of the Lord's Day; or Christian Sabbath 8 Chap. III. Motives for keeping the Lord’s Day • . .13

Chap. IV. On the manner in which we are commanded to keep the

Sunday by resting from servile works • . .22

Chap. V. On the obligation of sanctifying the Sunday by Exercises of

devotion and all works of piety . • . . 31

CHAPTER 2. The Second Treatise, on the Holy Time of Advent

Chap. I. On the Institution of Advent • • • .57

Chap. II. The Motives for sanctifying Advent . . .61

Chap. III. On the Exercises of holy Penance and Prayer ; by which we are bound* principally to sanctify our souls in this holy time of Advent . . . • • .66

The Ember days 6f December • • . .76

CHAPTER 3. The Third Treatise, on the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus

Second Sunday after Epiphany • • • *78

CHAPTER 4. The Fourth Treatise, on the Sundays between the Epiphany and Lent

Chap. I. . . . .95

Chap. II. On the Sundays of Septuagesima, Sexagesima, and Quinqua-

gesima . • • . • . ib.

Chap. III. On Shrovetide • . . .99

CHAPTER 5. The Fifth Treatise, on the Fast of Lent

Chap. I. On the Institution and Obligation of this Fast • .112

Chap. II. On the Advantages of Holy Fasting . • . 123

Chap. III. The particular Motives for the Institution of the Fast of

Lent . . . . . 131

Chap. IV. On the Manner of observing Lent . . .144

Chap. V. On the Conditions which must accompany our Fast . 166

Chap. VI. Ou the interior Dispositions necessary to sanctify our Fasts 172 Chap. VII. On Ash- Wednesday . . . .181

Chap. VIII. Of the Ancient Discipline of the Church, relating to the

Penitental Cyions f . . . . .183

Chap. On the First Sunday of Lent ^ % . . 198

CONTENTS.

Chap. X. On Mid-Lent Sunday • • • .

Chap. XI. On Passion Sunday » . # ,

CHAPTER 6. The Sixth Treatise, on Holy Week

!•••»••<

II. On Palm Sunday • . .

III. On the Office of the Tenebre • «

IV. On Maundy Thursday ’ , . , ,

V. On Good-Friday • t ;

VI. On the devotion to the Cross . .

VII. On the devout use of the sign of the Cross

VIII. Holy Saturday, or Easter-Eve • •

CHAPTER 7. The Seventh Treatise, on the Resurrection of our Lord

Chap. I. On Easter-Day ....

Chap. II. The history of Christ’s Resurrection .

Chap. III. On the principal dispositions of soul and exercises of devo- tion, with which every Christian is hound to celebrate the glorious solemnity of Christ’s Resurrection Chap. IV. On the Paschal Time , • «

Chap.

CHAPTER 9. The Ninth Treatise, on Whitsuntide

Chap. L On the Preparation for Whitsuntide , • *

Whitsun-Eve ..... Chap. II. On the Jewish Feast of Weeks, or Pentecost Chap. III. The History of the Christian Pentecost, or an Account of the Descent of the Holy Ghost .... Chap. IV. On the Promulgation of the New Law of Grace, in the Descent of the Holy Ghost .... Chap. y. On the fruits continually produced in the Souls of the Faith- ful, by the invisible descent of the Holy Ghost upon them •

Chap. VL On the Gifts which accompany Habitual Charity f

CHAPTER 10. The Tenth Treatise, on Trinity Sunday

Chap. I. On the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity • ,

Chap. II. How we are to honour the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity Chap. III. Of the Adversaries of the Faith of the Blessed Trinity

CHAPTER 11. The Eleventh Treatise, on the Feast of Corpus Christi

Chap. I. ......

Continuation of do., by a Catholic Priest Chap. II. On the manner in which it is solemnized Chap. III. On the Procession of Corpus Christi •

Chap. IV. Considerations on the Real Presence .

CHAPTER 12. The Twelfth Treatise

On the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus § • •

IftDXX ,

Pass

201

202

203

206

211

212

218

219

224

231

234

239

248

265

287

293

ib.

296

308

319

330

349

360

362

385

395

ib.

400

402

425

437

PREFACE.

The following Work, to the first chapter of the Eleventh Treatise inclusive, is from the pen of the Rev. Alban Butler, President of the English College at St. Omers, and Author of that encyclopaedia of religious knowledge, u The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and other principal Saints.” His object was to make it a supplement to the Lives of the Saints, by presenting every thing necessary to be known concerning the moveable Feasts, Fasts, and other annual observances of the Catholic Church, not sufficiently noticed in that Work.

After the demise of the Author, the Venerable and Right Rev. Dr. Challoner, whose approbation alone is enough to recommend it to posterity, published this Work in London, from the original manuscript.

In Ireland, shortly afterwards, the Right Rev. Dr. Car- penter, Catholic Archbishop of Dublin, had another edition published. Since that period, several editions have been printed in the three kingdoms, and in America, under the patronage of the most learned and eminent prelates and clergy.

This Work, with the most solid instruction, presents an extraordinary quantity of erudition, and must satisfy the varied tastes of the pious Christian, enlightened scholar, and eminent divine.

FBSFACS*

Its perusal will not fail to create a desire of possessing the other Works of this learned Author, particularly the " Lives of the Saints,” and “ Discourses on the Sublime Truths and Sacred Duties of Christianity.”

However valuable this Work has been considered in its original state, its value is considerably enhanced by the addition of what has been deemed necessary to complete it, according to the desire of the gifted Author. The Treatises on the Feast of Corpus Christi, and of the Sacred Heart, here for the first time presented to the public, it is hoped will gratify the reader ; and the Life of the Author, with the Index prefixed, will no doubt render it still more acceptable.

No trouble or expense has been spared to render the Work perfect and correct, and the Publisher is consoled with the reflection, that his labours have received the fostering and kind approbation of men eminent for virtue, learning, and talent.

20 JY 63

AN ACCOUNT

THE LIFE AND WRITINGS

OF THB

REV. ALBAN BUTLER:

nrmim»D win

OBSERVATIONS ON SOME SUBJECTS OF SACRED AND PROFANE LITERATURE MENTIONED IN HIS WRITINGS.

Bt CHARLES BUTLER, Esq.,

BARRISTER AT LAW.

Qua re quia tandam me reprehend* t, si quantum cssteris id ftestos dies hulorum eelebrandot, quantum ad alias Tohxptates, at ad ipcam requiem snimi et corporis eonceditur tamporls : Quantum alU tempestieis cooTiriis, quantum ale*, quantum pil*, tantum mOai egocnat ad Imsc stadia reookoda, sumpsaro.

Cxo. Pro Aroria.

The Rev. Alban Butleb was the second son of Simon Bntler, Esq, of Appletree, in the county of Northampton, by Mist Ann Birch, daughter of Thomas Birch, Esq., of Gorscot, in the county of Stafford. His family, for amplitude of possessions, and splendor of descent and alliances, had vied with the noblest and wealthiest of this kingdom ; but was reduced to slender circumstances, at the time of his birth. A tradition in his family mentions, that Mr. Simon Butler (our author’s grandfather) was the person confidentially em- ployed by the Duke of Devonshire, and the Earl of Warrington, in inviting the Prince of Orange over to England ; that he professed the Protestant religion, and that his great zeal for it was his motive for embarking so warmly in that measure; but that he never thought it would be attended with the political consequences which followed from it; that, when they happened, they preyed greatly on his mind ; that, to fly from his remorse, he gave himself up to plea- sure; and that, in a few years, he dissipated a considerable pro- portion of the remaining part of the family estate, and left what he did not sell of it, heavily incumbered.

At a very early age, our Author was sent to a school in Lanca-

ACCOUKT 07 TBS UTB AND WRITINGS

shire, and there applied himself to his studies with that unremitted application which, in every part of his life, he gave to literature. Sacred biography was even then his favourite pursuit. A gentle- man, lately deceased, mentioned to the editor, that he remembered him at this school, and frequently heard him repeat, with a surpris- ing miniitepqgs p f f%ct> and pre^fiqp of chronology, a numerous and wondering audience of little boys, the history of the chiefs and saints of the Saxon aera of our history. He then also was dis- tinguished for his piety* and a" punctual discharge of his religious duties. About the age of eight years, he was sent to the English college at Douay. It appears, from the diary of that college, that Mr. Holman of Walworth (whp£6 memory, for hit extensive cha- rities, is still in benediction in Oxfordshire and Northamptonshire) became security for the expenses of his education. About this time he lost his father g i\d mother, The letter, just before she died, wrote to him and hi$ two brpthprs> the following beautiful letter : —

“My dear Children, — Since it pleases Almighty God to take me out

of this world, m m doubt wisely foreseeing I m no longer a useful pwwt

ta you (far no person ought to bo thought necessary in this world, when God thinks proper to take them out) ; so, I hope, ypn will pfifer the los? of UMi With % resignation suitable to the religion you are of, and offer your- selves. He who makes you orphans so young, without a parent to take care of you, will take you into his protection and fatherly care, if you do love and serve him, who is the Author of all goodness. Above all things, prepare yourselves, while you are young, to suffer patiently what afflictions

■he.rtfU.ftwk- p?<uw? tay m m ym i % it w hy tbit fc# tncth hit best

s^rvant|t Iq the first place, pve hiqj tbftPhs fax your educ&fign |n % tffie faith (which many thousands want); figd then, \ hpg of you qarnqstly to ' petition his direction, what state of life you shall undertake, whether it be Iff feUgifth of to got you? livings hi the world- lie doubt but you may he

way. if you do ym duly to fed. y m msMkm, wd yow-

selves. And I beg of you tq m^ke pqnstaqt resolution!, rather to die a thousand times, if possible, than quit your fhith ; and always have in your thoughts, what yon would think of, were you as nigh death as I now think

_ mysrfft Thore b* m for e good hot « good life. j>$ w>t

omit your nr^ypr^ ajid to mftkp an act cf contrition apd of

every night, and frequent the blessed sacramepts of the Church* I %m so weak, I oan say no more to you; hut I pray God Mess and direct you, and yfttf frigftd* |a tabe s»re of you. Lastly, I heg of you never to forget to prsy f dr yow poor fother mq|her? lyhpp they nqj| captyp of helping thejnselves ; so I take leave of you, hoping to njeet ypq m heftvqgt to he happy for all eternity.

* If our gflbctieaate mother.

Though eur author^ memory, for the recollection of dates, waa, in his very earliest years, remarkable, he found, when he firft came to the college, great difficulty in learning his lessons by heart ; aa that, to enable him te repeat them in the school as well ae the

or CHB m. AliBAfT BUTLfefc.

other boys, he was obliged to rise long before the college hour.

perseverance, however, he overcanpe this disheartening difficulty. Even while he was in the lowest schools, he was respected for his virtue aqd learning. One of his school-fellows writes thus of him:

** The year after Mr. Alban Butler’s arrival at Douay, I was placed in the me school, under the same master, he being in the first class of rudiments, M it is there flailed* and 1 in the lowest. My youth a ad sickly constitution pioyed hi# innate goodness to pay me every attention in his power i and we soon contracted an intimacy that gave me every opportunity of observing hip conduct, and of being fully acquainted with ms sentiments. No pne student in the college was move humble, more devout, more exact in every defy, or P»°re obedient Of mortified, He we# never reproved or punished but once; and then, for a fault of which he wan not guilty. This un- deserved treatment he receiyed with silence, patience, and humility. In the hours allotted to play, he rejoiced in the meanest employments assigned ta him by bis companions* as to fetch their bails, run on tie* errand*, Ac. Ac. Though often treated with many indignitie# by his thought!** eompabtmw, on purpose to try his patience, he never was observed to show the least resentment, but bore all with meekness and patience. By the frequent practise of these virtues he had attained so perfect an evenness of temper, that hi# mipd seemed never ruffled with the least emotion of angst. He re- stricted hipiself, in every tiling, to the strictest hound# of necessity. Great part pf his monthly allowance qf pocket-money, and frequently of hi* daily feed, went te the poor. So perfectly had he subjected the flesh to the spirit, that ha seemed to feel qo resistance from his semes in the service of God and his neighbour.”

A# bo adviced in qgo, hi# learning and virtue became more and more conspicuous. Monsieur Fellison,* in his life of the famous Huet, bishop of Avranches, observes, that, “from his tendqiest yoqth, he gave himself to study ; that, at his rising, his going to* bed, and during his meals, he was reading, or had others to read toe him ; that neither the fire of youth, the interruption of business, the variety of his employments, the society of his friends, nor the bustle of the world, could ever moderate his ardour of study ? The same may be said of cur author. He generally allowed himself no more than four hour’s sleep, and often passed whole nights in study and prayer, All his day was spent in reading. When he wae alone, be read ; when he was in eompany, he read ; at his meals, he read * hi his walks, he read ; when he was In a carriage, hq read ; when he was op horseback, he read i whatever he did, he read. It was his custom to make abridgments of the principal works he perused, and to copy large extracts from them : several bulky volumes of them have fallen into the hands pf the editor. Many were surprised to see the rapidity with whieh he read, or rather run through books, and, ai the same time, acquired a full and accurate knowledge of their coqteptp.

• Riitoire de l1, Academle, 1 vol, 102.

ACCOUNf OP THE UPK AHD WBITIICG8

II.

After our author had completed the usual course of his study, he was admitted an alumnus of Douay college, and appointed pro- fessor of philosophy. The Newtonian system of philosophy was, about that time, gaining ground in the foreign universities. He adopted it, in part, into the course of philosophy which he dictated to the students. He read and considered, with great attention, the metaphysical works of Woolfe and Leibnitz. He did not admire them, and thought the system of pre-established harmony laid down in them irreconcileable with the received belief or opinions of the Roman Catholic Church on the soul ; and that much of their lan- guage, though susceptible of a fair interpretation, conveyed improper notions, or at least sounded offensively to Catholic ears. The late Mr. John Dunn, bis contemporary at the college, frequently men- tioned to the editor, the extreme caution which our author used in inserting any thing new in his dictates, particularly on any subject connected with any tenet of religion. After teaching a course of philosophy, he was appointed professor of divinity. On this part of his life the editor has been favoured by a gentleman deservedly famed for his erudition and piety, the Reverend Robert Bannister, with a long letter, of which the reader is presented with an extract.

“ I was contemporary with Mr. Alban Butler in Douay college, eight yean; viz., from October, 1741, to October, 1749. But as I was but a boy the greater part of that time, I bad not any intimacy with him, nor was I capable of knowing any thing concerning his interior, the manner of his prayer, or the degrees to which he ascended in it, or any extraordinary communica- tions or elevations, to which the Holy Ghost, the great master and teacher of contemplation, might raise him. All that I can say, is, that he opened Douay college’s great door to me and a gentleman whom I knew not ; but who was so good as to bring me from Lisle in his coach, on Sunday between 10 and 11, the 15th of October, 1741 ; and the first sight of him appeared to me then, so meek and so amiable, that 1 thought I would choose him for my ghostly father ; but another, I suppose, in rotation, adopted me. Mr. Alban was my sole master in my first year of divinity in 1749, and dictated the two treatises: De Decalogo et de Incarnation# ; he also presided over my defensions upon those two treatises, and over Mr. James Talbot’s (the late bishop of Lon- don) upon universal divinity. As to heroic acts of virtue, which strike with admiration all that see or hear of them, I cannot recollect more than a uniform, constant observance of all the duties of a priest, professor, and confessarius. He was always at morning meditations, seldom omitted the celebration of the holy sacrifice of the mass, which he said with a heavenly composure, sweetness, and recollection ; studying and teaching assidiously, dictating with an unwearied patience so equally and leisurely, that every one could, if he wished to do it, write his dictates, in a dear and legible hand; nor do I re- member, that he ever sent a substitute to dictate for him ; so exact and punc- tual he was in his duty as a professor. I never knew one more ready to go to the confession-seat, at the first intimation of any, even the least or youngest boy. He heard his penitents with wonderful meekness ; and his penetratle% learning, judgment, and piety, were such, as to move them to place in him

OF TBS BEV. ALBAN BUTLEB.

& mgnlir confidence. He frequently visited the military hospital, to instruct, exhort, and hear the confessions of Irish soldiers. He sometimes assembled a number of them (when they happened to be quartered in Douay) in the college-church of of St. Thomas of Canterbury, and preached to them. In one of his sermons, I remember he told them, for their example and encour- agement, that there are more soldiers saints, than of any other vocation, or state, or condition. As poor, and often distressed, Irish men and women, frequently came to Douay, he was always ready to relieve them, and admin- ister both corporal and spiritual succours. It can never be forgotten, what attention, solicitude, and care, he had in the year 1745, of our English soldiers, wounded and maimed, who were brought prisoners to Douay, and quartered in the barracks, in great numbers, after the battle of Fontenoy. He animated, both by words and example, all the young priests, and all in holy orders at the college, to visit them, to instruct and instil into them serious thoughts of saving their souls, by embracing the only saving faith, and by true repentance. He also procured for them temporal succour and relief^ so benefidently, that the Duke of Cumberland, then generalissimo of the British and allied armies, being informed of it, promised him a special pro- tection, whensoever he came over into England. Scarce any thing affords one- a better proof of Mr. Alban's eminent spirit of piety and great under- standing, discretion, and light in spiritual matters, than his familiarity and friendship with M. Jean Baptiste de Yill&rs, President of the seminary des Evdques in the university of Douay, who died October 7th, 1746, the death of a saint, after having lived the life of one for 78 years. This M. de Villdrs was eminent in all supernatural and moral virtues ; but he concealed them under an amiable simplicity, and a plain unaffected behaviour, or exterior, charity and zeal for the glory of God and salvation of souls required their open and full exertion ; and, notwithstanding his great learning, (jvhich he had acquired by an excellent genius and diligent application to sacred studies) and his great and solid fund of piety, he was as docile as an infant ; so timorous and diffident of his own judgment, that he would neither do nor decide any thing without counsel. With this sentiment of diffidence and humility, he often visited (says M. Leroy, the frithful imitator and writer of the history of his life,) a young professor, a foreigner, (that is, Alban Butler,) and passed an hour or two in his company in the afternoon, once every week, and sometimes twice, several years until his edifying death. Their conversation together was solely about various points of morality ; about the direction of souls, and the methods of arriving at perfection in every action and intention ; how to teach devout persons a habit of making continual aspirations to God, by acts of love, obla- tion, entire sacrifice of their hearts, of humility, Ac. M. de Villdrs would not suffer more than half a small faggot to be kindled for him in the severest weather, saying to Mr* Alban, * the other part may serve some poor person.* As to wine, or any other liquor, he never drank any but at meal time. I remember to have heard an instance of Mr. Alban's meekness, for I am not a witness of it. When he was presiding over one of his students in divinity in the public hall of Douay college, a disputant who was probably much offended at some proposition in the thesis, as being opposite to some favourite opinion of his school or religious family, said to him, with intolerable rudeness: Habee mel in ore , sedfel in corde : to which he made no reply, nor showed the least resentment. Mr. Alban Butler was totally averse to the system of probabi- lism, and to all assertions that favour laxity in morals. This is evident from the dictates which he delivered to us, from his treatise: De Decalogo , de aetibnn Jknmanis, in his Epitome months sacramentontm, j*c. It is still more evident, from his Epitome de sex prioribus coneitiis cecumencicis in cake tractates de Incarnatione, that he had the highest veneration for the Holy See, and for

ACCOUNT ON THH IXFB AJTD WAITINGS

him who sits in the chair of St. Peter ; that he constantly held And maintained the rights and singular prerogatives of St. Peter and his successors, in calling, presiding over, and confirming general or (ecumenical councils ; the pope’s superiority over the whole church, and over the whole college of bishops, and over a general council j the irreformability of his doctrinal decisions in points of faith and morals; his supreme power to dispense, (when there is cause) in the canons of general councils ; in short, the plenitude of his authority over the whole church without exception or limitation. Nihil txdpkur a hi <K§* timgniter nihil*

* III.

From the letter, of which we have presented the reader with an extract, it appears what our author's sentiments were on the nature and extent of the spiritual power of the See of Rome. It has frequently been said, that he was the editor of Doctor Holden’s Analysis Pidsi 2 had this been the fact, it would have been a strong proof of an alter* ation of his sentiments on those points ; but, after particular inquiry, the editor finds the assertion to be wholly unfounded.

On the celebrated questions. Of the infaMMity if the Pope, and hie right to the deposing power, our author thus expresses himself in one of his letters on Mr. Bower’s History of the Popes :

t( Mr. Bower having been educated in the Catholic schools, could not but know, that, though some private divines think that the pope, by the assist- ance of some special providence, cannot err in the decisions of faith solemnly published by him, with the mature advice of his council, or of the clergy or divines of his church yet, that this is denied by others j and that the learned Bossuet and many others, especially of the school of Sorbonne ; have written warmly against that opinion ; and that no Catholic looks upon it as at) article ot term of communion. It is the infallibility of the whole church, whether assembled in a general council, or dispersed over the world, of which they speak in their controversial disputations. Yet, this writer, at every tern, confounds these two things together only to calumniate, and impoee on the public. If he had proven that some popes had erred in hath, he would have no more defeated the article of supremacy, than he would disinherit a king by arraigning him of bad policy. The Catholic faith teaches the pope to be the supreme pastor of the church established by Christ, and that this church, founded by Christ on a rock, shall never be overcome by hell, or cease to bo his true spouse. For he has promised, that bis true spirit shall direct it in all truth to the end of the world. But Mr. Bower never found the infalli- bility of the pope in our creed ; and knows very well that no stack article it proposed by the church, or required of any one. Therefore, the whole chain of his boastings which is conducted through the work, faUt to the ground.

“ What he writes against the deposing power in popes, certainly cannot be made a reproach against the Catholics of England, France, Spain, fee. It is a doctrine neither taught nor tolerated ia any Catholic kingdom that I know of, and which many Catholics write as warmly against aa Mr. Bower eould wish.”

IV.

While our author continued at the college of Do nay, bis first pub* lieation made its app«m»cw. This was his Letters on the Bistory of

at ftris tef. alwak m&wam.

vtf

ft* Pop**, published by Mr. Archibald Bower. That gentleman bad entered into the society of Jesus, and acquired a reputation fot learning and talents. He came into England, embraced the religion of the established church, and endeavoured to recommend himself to the flavour of hl§ new Mends, by his History of the Lives of the Popes. He ako published an account of his escape from Italy, and of nis motives for quitting iti The truth of the account became a subject of cotttarvewy. It was disbelieved, nat only by Catholics, but Protestants. Dt. Douglas, the present Bishop of Salisbury, wrote an excellent pamphlet to expose its falsehood and absurdity. It carried great improbability on the face of it. Mr. Bower was a lively writer, and defended himself with adroitness $ hut he was not euoal to the composition of the history which he undertook to write. He was of the numerous list of authors, who, when they sit down to write, have to learn what they shall Write, rather than to write what they have already learned. The errors which our author exposes in hk letters are sometimes the errors of a very young writer. The letters are written with ease ahd good humour ; they show various and extensive learning, a vigorous and candid mind. They met with universal applause.

Itt the yeaf 1745, Ouf author accompanied the fate Earl of Shrews- bury atid the Honorable James Talbot and Thomas Talbot on theif travels through Prance and Italy. He wrote a full, entertain- ing, and interesting account of them. As it will he published, the editor makes no extracts from it in this place. He was always sofi- ritOuS that the noble personages committed to his care should See whatever deserved attention, atid he introduced to persons distin- guished by their rank, talents, or virtue. He drew out for them a comparative view of the Greek, Roman, and Gothic architecture, an account of the different schools of painting, and an abridgment of the lives, and remarks On (he different characters of the most eminent painteM. These Will be found in his travels. He kept them from all stage entertainments ; — u The stage entertainments,” he says in otfO of his letters, * I Can give no account of, as We never would See any ; they being certainly very dangerous, and the school ef the passions and sin, most justly abhorred by the church and the fathers. Among Us, Collier, Law, tec. ; among the French, the late prince of Condi, Doctor Voisln, Nicole, tec., have said enough to satisfy any Christian ; though Tefttdlian, St. Cyprian, St. Chrysostom, are still mOfe Implacable enemies Of the stage. However, we saw the stages, fof theft architecture, where . this was curious.* His opinion of

V1U

ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND WRITING 8

the evil tendency of stage entertainments continued with him through life.

VI.

On his return from his travels, our author was sent on the English mission. He had long been engaged in his great work of the Live e of the Sainte9 and was then bringing it to a conclusion. He naturally, therefore, wished to be settled in London, for the conve- nience of its public libraries, and the opportunities it affords of inter- course with men of letters. But the Vicar Apostolic of the Middle District claimed him, as belonging to that district, and appointed him to a mission in Staffordshire. This was a severe mortification to our author ; he respectfully remonstrated ; but the Vicar Apos- tolic was inexorable, and required his immediate obedience. A gentleman, who lived in the same house with him at the time, has mentioned to the editor, that he was with him when the summons came ; and that, on receiving it, he appeared much hurt, retired for half an hour to his oratory, and soon after set off for his country mission.

From Staffordshire he removed to Warkworth, the seat of Francis Eyre, Esq., to whom these sheets are dedicated. . He had the highest opinion of a good missioner, and frequently declared, that he knew of no situation so much to be envied, while the missioner had a love of his duties, and confined himself to them ; none so miserable, when the missioner had lost the love of them, and was fond of the pleasures of life. “ Such a one,” he used to say, “ would seldom hav e the means of gratifying his taste for pleasure ; he would frequently find, that, in company, if he met with outward civility, he was the object of silent blame ; and that, if he gave pleasure as a companion, no one would resort to him as a priest.” He had a manuscript written by a Mr. Cox, an English missioner, who lived in the beginning of the present century, in which these sentiments were expressed forcibly and with great feeling : he often mentioned it. But no person was less criti- cal on the conduct of others, none exacted less frqm them, than our author. He was always at the command of a fellow clergyman, and ready to do him every kind of good office. To the poor, his door was always open. When he resided in London, in quality of chaplain to the Duke of Norfolk, he was under no obligation, strictly speak- ing, of attending to any person except the Duke himself and his family ; but he was at the call of every one who wanted any spiritual or temporal assistance which it was in his power to afford. The poor at length flocked to him in such numbers, that, much in opposition to his wishes, his brother, with whom he then lived, was

OF THE MV. ALBAN BUTLEB.

obliged to give general orders that none of them should be admitted to him. He was ever ready to oblige. Mons. Olivet relates of Huet, the hishop of A Tranches, that he was so absorbed in his studies, as sometimes to neglect his pastoral duties ; that once a poor peasant waited on him respecting some matter of importance, and was refused admittance, “ his lordship being at his studies upon which the peasant retired, muttering, with great indignation, “ that he hoped they should never have another bishop who had not finished his studies before he came among them but our author’s “ being at his studies,” was never a reason with him for refusing to see any one. It was often unpleasant to observe how much his good humour in this respect was abused.

VII.

Our author did not remain long in Staffordshire — Edward, Duke of Norfolk, (to whom the present Duke is second in succession,) applied to the late Mr. Challoner for a person to be his chaplain, and to superintend the education of Mr. Edward Howard, his nephew and presumptive heir. Mr. Challoner fixed upon our author to fill that situation. His first residence, after he was appointed to it, was at Norwich, in a house generally called the Duke’s palace. Thither some large boxes of books belonging to him were directed, but by mistake were sent to the bishop’s palace. The bishop opened them, and, finding them full of Roman Catholic books, refused to deliver them. It has been mentioned, that after the battle of Fontenoy, our author was very active in serving the English prisoners, and that the Duke of Cumberland returned him thanks for his conduct, and made him an offer of his services, if he should have occasion for them after his return to England. On this seizure of his books, our author applied to the Duke ; his highness immediately wrote to the bishop, and soon after the books were sent to their owner.

Mr. Edward Howard, by our author’s advice, was first sent to the school of the English clergy, at a small village near Douay, called Esquerchin, of which the most pious and respectable Mr. Tichborne Blount was president. After some years, he was sent to complete his education at Paris ; and thither our author accompanied him. Mr. Edward Howard was the Marcellus of the English Catholics : never did a noble youth raise greater expectations ; but he was sud- denly taken ill, and died after an illness of a few days. On that melancholy occasion the family expressed great pleasure in the recollection of the religious education he had received fro m our author.

accoot* or na un Aim waitings

VIII#

During our anther’s stay at Paris, he finally completed and sent to the prats his great work on the L%V4i trf thi StUnii. We have seen that, from his tenderest years, ho had discovered his turn for sacred biography. At a very early period of his life, he conceited the plan of his work ; and from that time pursued it with llndeviatitig Atten- tion# He qualified himself for an able execution of it, by unrefflltted application to erety branch of profane or sacred literature, Connected with it# Ho was a perfect master of the Italian, Spanish, and French languages# The last he spoke and wrote With fluency and purity. He was also perfect master of the Latin and Greek, languages. At an advanced period of his life, he mentioned to the editor, that he could then understand the works of St. John Chrysostom as easily in the original as in the Latin interpretation ; but that the Greek of St# Gregory Nasianxen was too difficult for him. A few years before he died, he amused himself With an Inquiry Into the true pronunciation of tho Greek language, and in preparing for the press some sheets of an intended Greek grammar# To attain that degree of knowledge of the Greek language is given to few $ Menage men* tious, that he was acquainted with three persons only who COttld read a Greek writer without an Interpreter# Our author had also some skill h» the oriental languages. In biblical reading, in positive divinity, in canon law, in the writings of the fathers, in ecclesiastical antiqui- ties, and in modern controversy, the depth and extent of his erudition are unquestionable. He was also skilled In heraldry i etery part of ancient and modern geography was familiar to him. He had ad- vanced fat beyond the common learning of the schools, in the differ- ent branches of philosophy $ and even in botany and medicine he was deeply read. In tins manner he had qualified himself to execute the Woii he undertook#

IX#

The preeent section is intended to give an account of some of the principal works he consulted m the composition of it. It will contain, first, some remarks on the attention of the church, during the early ages of Christianity, to preserve the memory of the martyrs and saints 3 secondly, some account of the acts of the martyrs i thirdly, seme account of the sacred calendars : fourthly, Some account of the martyrologies : fifthly, some account Of the Men&on and Menologies of the Greek church t sixthly, some account of the early Agiograph- ists 3 seventhly, some account of the feolhmdists ; and, eighthly, some account of the process of the beatification and canonization of sahltS.

IX. I. The Roman Catholic Church has ever been solicitious,

OJt fn BUi AUlAlV BVflUi

that the lives and miracles of those who have been eminent for their sanctity# should be retarded for thd edification of the faithful* St* Clement the Second# successor of St* Peter in the See of Rome# is said to have divided the fourteen districts* of that City ataong seten notaries# assigning two districts to each of them, with directions to form a minute end accurate account of the martyrs who suffered within them. About 150 yeats from that time# Pope Fabian put the notaries under the care of deacons and subdeacons. The same attention to the actions and Sufferings of the martyrs was shown hi the provinces* Of this# the letter iff the church of Smyrna* giving an account of the ntartrjrdcutt of 8t* Polycarp# the letter of the churches of Lyons and Vietme# giving an account of the martyrs Who suffered in those cities# and the letter df St* Diohyrius the bishop of Alexandria# to Fabius the bishop of Antioch# on the martyrs who suffered under the empUfdr Decius, are remarkable instances* “ Our ancestors#” says Pontius# in the beginning of the acts of Bt. Cyprian, “ held those who suffered martyrdom# though only Catechumens# or of the lowest rank# in such veneration# as to commit to writing almost every thing that related to them.” Nor was this attention confined to those who obtained the crown of martyrdom. Care was taken that the fives of all should be Written# who were distinguished by their virtues# particularly if they had been favoured with the gift of miracles.

IX, 2. The lives of the martyrs and saints# Written in this manner# were called their acts* They were often collected into Volumes. One of the earliest of these collections was made by Eusebius# the father of church history. Borne of the fives he inserted ht the body of his great historical work $ he also published a separate collection# of them ; it was greatly esteemed $ but has net reached our time t many others were published. These accounts of the virtues and sufferings of the martyrs were received by the faitbftil with the highest respect* They considered them to afford a glorious [woof of the truth of the Christian faith# and of the holiness and sublimity of i(| doctrines* They faH themselves stimulated by them# to imi- tate the heroic acts of virtue and constancy which they placed before their eyes# and to rely on the assistance of beaten# when their Own hear of trial should arrive* Thus the vocal Mood of the martyrs was a powerful exhortation# both to hvdUce the infidel to embrace the faith of Christ# and to incite the faithful to the practice of its precepts* The church, therefore# always recommended the frequent reading of the acts of the martyrs# and Inserted the mention of them in her liturgy. This, Ruinart proves by many examples : he also sbotra that the greatest care was taken to procure the genuine Oris

xfi

ACCOUNT OF THE LIFS AND WETTINGS

of the martyrs ; or, when they could not be had, to procure exact accounts of their trials and sufferings. By this means the church was in possession of authentic histories of the persecutions she had suffered, and through which she had finally triumphed over Paganism, and of particular accounts of the principal sufferers. The greater part of them was lost in the general wreck, which sacred and profane literature suffered from the barbarians who overturned the Roman Empire. In every age, however, some were found, who carefully preserved whatever they could save, of those sacred trea- sures. Copies were frequently made of them ; and thus, in this, as in every other important branch of Christian learning, the chain of tradition has been left unbroken. Much, however, of these sacred documents of church history has been irretrievably lost ; and, speak- ing generally, the remaining part came down to us in an imperfect state. Hence Vives, at the end of the 15th century, exclaimed : “ What a shame it is to the Christian world, that the acts of our martyrs have not been published with greater truth and accuracy V The important task of publishing them in that manner, was at length undertaken by Dom Ruinart, a Maurist monk, in his Acta primorum Martyrum eincera et eelscta . He executed it in a man- ner that gained him universal applause. His prefatory discourse, respecting the number of martyrs, has been generally admired. An invaluable accession to this branch of sacred literature, was published by Stephen Evodius Assemani, in two volumes folio, at Rome, in 1748. The title of the work expresses its contents: u Acta Sane - torum Martyrum orientalium et occidentalium , editors Stephano Evodio Aeesmano, qui textum Chaldaicum receneuity notie vocali - hue animavity Latins vsrtity et annotationibus illustravit.” It is to be observed, that the eastern and western martyrs mentioned in this place, are not the martyrs of the eastern or Greek church, and the martyrs of the Latin or western church, in which sense the words eastern and western are generally used by ecclesiastical writers. By the eastern martyrs, Assemani denotes the martyrs who suffered in the countries which extend from the eastern bank of the Euphr^es, over Mesopotamia and Chaldea to the Tigris and the parts beyond it ; by the western, be denotes the martyrs who suffered in Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. Stephen Assemani was the nephew of Joseph * Assemani, whose Kalendaria will be mentioned in another place. Joseph was first prefect of the Vatican library : Stephen was archbishop of Apamea ; both of them were Maronite monks, and sent into the east by Pope Gement XIL, to purchase manu- scripts.

IX. 9. It was the pious custom of the early Christians, to cele-

Of TBS m. ALB AH BUTLER*

X1U

brate yearly ihe memory of the martyrs, on the days on which they suffered* On that day, the martyr was considered to be born to a life of glory and immortality, and, with respect to that second life, it was called the day of his birth. The different churches therefore, were careful to preserve an exact account of the particular days on which the martyrs obtained the crown of martrydom* The book which contained this account was called a Calendar . At first the calendar contained the mention of the martyrs only ; but in the course of time, the confessors, or those who, without arriving at the glory of martyrdom, had confessed their faith in Christ by thdlr heroic virtues, were admitted to the same honour. The calendars were preserved in the churches ; a calendar of the church of Rome was published by Boucher ; another by Leo AUatius ; a third by Joannes Fronto, chancellor of Paris, and canon regular of the church of St* Genevieve, at Paris. A most ancient calendar of the church of Carthage was published by Mabillon. But under this head, no publication is more respectable than Joseph Assemani's Kalendaria Bcekrim universe* notis illustrate

IX* 4* The calendars gave rise to the Martyrologies ; the ob- ject of them was to collect, in one volume, from the calendars of the different churches, the names of the martyrs and confessors throughout the world, with a brief mention of the day of their de- cease, and the place in which they suffered, or which they had illus- trated by their birth, their residence, their rank, or their virtues. The Roman martyrology is mentioned in the following terms, by St. Gregory, (Lib. 8* Epist. Indict. I.,) in a letter to Eulogius, the bishop of Alexandria: “ We,” says his holiness, “ have the names of almost all the martyrs collected into one volume, and referred to the days on which they suffered, and we celebrate the solemn sacri- fice of the mass, daily in their honour. But our calendar does not contain the particulars of their sufferings; it only mentions their names, and the place and time of their martyrdom.” The Roman calendar seems to have been adopted generally through the western church. It certainly was received in England. At the council held at Shovesham, in 747, by Cuthbert, the Archbishop of Canterbury, it was ordered: “That, throughout the year, the feasts of the saints should be celebrated on the days appointed by the Martyrology of the Church of Rome, with the proper psalms.” It was once gene- rally believed to have been composed by St. Jerom ; but this opinion is now universally rejected. It suffered much in the middle ages. Pope Gregory XIII., immediately after he had completed the great work of reforming the calendar, used the most earnest endeavours to procure a correct edition of the Roman Martyrology* He com-

BtV

Accom of tn iot AsatWBvnsos

milted the mt« of it to soma of the «M distinguished writers of hit tuna on etelasiasUeal subjects. Among them* Bslkrmin, Bsronius, and Gavaut, deserve particular mention. With this edition, Baronius himself was not satisfied, He published another edition in 1680 ; and afterwards at the instigation of Cardinal Sirlet, published a still mope correct edition, with notes, in 1696. He praised to his edi- tion a dissertation, in which he appears to have exhausted the sub- ject, A further correction of the Roman Martyrology was made by Pope Urban VIII, They were all surpassed by that published by Pope Benedict XIV* at Cologne, in 1751* But the most useful edi- tion is that published at Paris, in 1661, by Father Lubin, an Augus- tinian friar. It is accompanied with excellent notes and geographical tables, Politus, an Italian divine, published in 1761 the first volume of a new edition of the Roman Martyrology. It comprises the month of January i hut the plan of annotation is so extended, that it fills 600 folio pages of the smallest print ; from the time of Bracken- borch’s edition of Livy, sp prolix a commentary had not been seen. Among other principal martyrologies, is that of the venerable Bede. After several faulty editions of it had appeared, it was correctly pub- lished by Hensehonius and Papebroke, and afterwards by Smith, ai the end of his edition of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. Mot with- standing Bede’s great and deserved celebrity, the martyrology of Uftnard, a Benedictine monk, was in more general use ; he dedicated it to Charles the Bald, and died about 876. It was published by Bolerins at Antwerp, in 1714, and by Bom. Bouillard in 1718 ; but the minus still seek for the earlier edition by Molanus, in 1668, as, in the subsequent editions, some parts of it were omitted. Another martyrology of renown is that of Ado ; he was archbishop of Vienne in Dauphina? and died in 876. The best edition of it i» that by Rosweyde, in 1613, published at Rome in 1745. Such have been the exertions of the Church of Rome to perpetuate the memory of those who have illustrated her by their virtues. Burin g the most severe persecutions, ia the general wreck of the arts and sciences, in the midst of the public and private calamities which attended the destruction of the Roman empire, the providence of God always raised some pious and enlightened men, who preserved the deposite of fptith, and transmitted to future times the memory of whatever had been mow virtuous in former ages or their owe.

IX* 6* The Greek Church has also shown great attention to preserve the memory of the holy martyrs and saints. This appears from her Henson and Mencdogia. The Menaon is divided into twelve months, and each month is contained in a volume. All the mints, whose festivals occur in that month, have their proper day

Vf TBS WV, SPTMW*

* IV

vrigped (e hbm in it) % rubric of the diving office, to b« per- formed wt that d«y, is »entionedj the particulars of theoifiee fallow; sp account of the life and actions of the wwt u inserted i and some- times an engraving of him is added- If it happen that the mint has net hie peculiar office, a prose or hymn in bin praise is generally in- troduced- The greeter solemnities have an appropriate office- Frees this, the intelligent reader will observe, that the Menmen of the Greeks is nearly the wine as a work would he, which should unite in jt§elf the Missal and Breviary of the Roman Catholic Church. It was printed in twelve volumes in folio at Venice, Bollandus mention?, that Bederus, a Tyrolese Jesuit, had translated the whole of the Mmreon, and pronounced it to he free from schism or heresy,

The Menologimn answers to the CaUa Martyrofogy, There are several Mimelpgin, ts, at different times, great alterations have heap made in them, But the groundwork of them all is the same, so that they are neither wholly alike nor wholly different, A translation of a Menotogium into Batin by Cardinal Siriet, was published by Henry Camsius, in the third volume of his -fceptfrmw Antigua, The Creek original, with a new version, was published by Amribal Alhani, at Urb»0) in 1737. Frew these works it is most dew, that the Greek church invokes the saints, and implores their intercession with God;— “ Hand okiwn Qftwd it,** say? w aldtius, “ Gram «e cultu proseggi

kamMW* S* sQMtorw grdinen «pr *><««, «< Hkt inv<y#nt” Bif-

Theologies, vek iii. 669, Fro« the Mepwon and the Meaelogium, Radeves published a collection of pious and entertaining narratives, under the title of F>r*'<#«rum ‘Sunctorvm. It is to he wished that some gentleman would employ his leisure in a translation of it. We should then be furnished, front the works of the Agiograpbists ef the eastern church, with a collection of pious and instructing narratives, similar to these m the well known Cfoitm One of the

mori curious articles inserted ju the 4c(e $ factortm pf the Bol- landiats, is the Muscovite or Russian Calendar, with the engravings of the smuts, It waa first published by Father Fosserin, He praises the Russians for the great attention to decency which they observe itt their pictures and engravings of holy subjects. He mentions, that the Russians who accompanied him in his return to Rome, ob- served, w»tb surprise, m the Italian priulwf8 °f saint?, a want of the like attention. Father Fspehrehe, when he cites this passage, adopts thp remark, and fondly gaHs op Innocent W> to attend tp the general decency ef all public, paintings and statues* A Greek Calendar of the Saints in Heaa»et« verse accompanies the Rus- sian Calendar, & the Auto Stwbmmi both | fp illustrated with net* by Fetter Fspeferoke, .

XVi ACCOTOT OV THX LOT AKX> tUtofOl

IX. 6. We proceed to to the Lives of the Saints written by in- dividuals* For these our attention must be first directed to the Agiographists of the Greek church. The eighth century may be considered as the period when Grecian literature had reached its lowest state of depression ; in the ninth, Bardas Caesar, the brother of the Empress Theodora, protected letters ; from that time they were constantly cultivated by the Greeks ; so that Constantinople, till it was taken by Mahomet, was never without its historians, poets, or philosophers. Compared with the writings of the ancients, their compositions seem lifeless and unnatural ; we look among them in vain either for original genius or successful imitation. Still they are entitled to our gratitude ; many of the precious remains of antiquity have come down to us only in their extracts and abridgments ; and their voluminous compilations have transmitted to us much useful information which has no other existence. Sacred biography, in particular, has great obligations to them. The earliest work on that subject we owe to the care which the Emperor Constantine Porphy- rogenitus bestowed on the literary education of his son ; an example which, at the distance of about 600 years, was successfully rivalled by the elegant edition of the Delphin Classics, published under the auspices of Louis XIV. But the Greek emperor had this advan- tage over the French monarch, that he himself was the author of some of the works published for the use of his son. In the first (published by Lerch and Reisch, at Leipsic, in 1751,) he describes the ceremonial of the Byzantine cqprt ; the second (published by Banduri, in his Imperium Ortentale,) is a geographical survey of the provinces, or, as he calls them, the Themata of the empire ; the third, which some ascribe to the Emperor Leo his father, describes the prevailing system of military tactics ; the fourth delineates the political relations and intercourse of the court of Byzantium with the other states. His Geoponics, (published by Nicholas Niclas at Leipsic, in 1731, in two volumes 8vo.) were written with a view of instructing his subjects in agriculture. By his direction, a collection of historical examples of vice and virtue was compiled in fifty-three books, and Simeon Metaphrastes, the great logothete or chancellor of the empire, composed his Lives of the Saints. Several of them were published, with a Latin translation, by the care of Lipoman, the bishop of Verona. Cardinal Bellarmin accuses Metaphrastes of giving too much loose to his imagination : — “ He inserts,” says the Cardinal, “ such accounts of conversations of the martyrs with their persecutors, and such accounts of conversations of by-standers, as exceed belief. He mentions many and most wonderful miracles on the destruction of the temples and idols, and on the death of the

OF THE SET. ALBAN BUTLXE.

xv*i

persecutor!, of which nothing is said by the ancient historians*” We next come to Jacobus de Voragine, a Dominican friar and arch- bishop of Genoa, in 1 292. His Golden Legend was the delight of our ancestors, during the ages which preceded the revival of letters. The library of no monastery was without it. Like the essays of Montaigne, it was to be found on the shelf of every private person ; and, for a long time after the invention of printing, no work more often issued from the press. After enjoying the highest degree of reputation, it lost much of its celebrity, in consequence of the Lives of Saints, published by Mombritius in two immense volumes in folio, about the year 1480, from manuscripts in the library 6f the church of St. John of Lateran; and in consequence of the Lives of Saints published by Surius, a Carthusian monk. The first edition of Surtus’s work was published in 1570-1575, in six volumes ; the second appeared in 1578; the third and most complete was published in twelve volumes, in 1615. That he frequently shows too much credulity, and betrays a want of taste, must be admitted ; but his works are allowed to breathe a spirit of piety ; his candour, and desire to be accurate, are discernible in every part of his writings ; and his learning, for the age in which he lived, was considerable. In Ribadeneira the line of ancient agiographists respectably finishes.

While candour and good taste must allow, that even in the best of the compilations we have mentioned, there is a great want of critical discernment, and that they are wholly deficient in elegance, and the artificial beauties of composition, justice requires that their defects should not be exaggerated. Still less should an intention to deceive, even on the pretence of edification, be imputed to them. Whatever may have been either the error or the criminality of some of her members, the church herself, in this, as in every other instance, has always inculcated the duty of sincerity and] truth, and reprobated a deviation from them, even on the specious pretence of producing good. On this subject our author thus forcibly expresses himself, in one of hb letters on Mr. Bower’s History of the Lives of the Popes :

“It is very unjust to charge the Popes, or the Catholic Church, with countenancing knowingly false legends ; seeing all the divines of that com- munion unanimously condemn all such forgeries, as lies in things of great moment, and grievous sins ; and all the councils, popes, and other bishops, have always expressed the greatest horror of such villanies ; which no cause or circumstances whatever can authorize, and which, in all things relating to religion, are always of the most heinous nature. Hence the authors, when detected, have been always punished with the utmost severity. Dr. Burnet hinMftlf says, that those who feigned a revelation at Basil, of which he gives a long detail, with false circumstances, in his letters on his travels, were all burnt at stakes for it, which we read more exactly related by Surius in his Commentary on Us own tones. The truth is, that many false legends of

Accofnv of ns i an no WMma&

tri% foariyrs Were forged by heretics, m were thoie of St. George, «oa* denied by Pope Gelasius, as many Ms* gospels were soon after the birth of Christianity, of which we have the names of near fifty extant* Other Wicked or mistaken persons have sometimes been guilty of a like Imposture. A priest at Ephesus forged acts of St Paul's voyages, out of veneration for that apostle, and was deposed for it by St John the evangelist as we learn from TertuUiazu To instance examples of this nature would fopa a rap* plete history* For the Church has always most severely condemned all manner of forgeries. Sometimes the more virtuous and remote from fraud a parson is, the mors unwilling he is to suspect an imposture In others. Seme great and good men have been imposed upon by lies, and have given credit to Also histories, but without being privy to the forgery : and nothing erroneous, dangerous, or prejudicial, was contained in what they unwarily admitted* However, if credulity in private histories was too easy la mf former age, certainly secpttotom and mMebty are the characters of this ia which we five. No histories, except those of Holy Scripture, are proposed as parts of divine revelation or articles of faith ; all others rest upon their %Mte historical authority. They who do not think this good and sufficient in any narrations, do well to suggest modestly their reasons ; yet may look Upon them at least as parables, and leave others the liberty of judging for themselves without offence. But Mr. Bower says, p. 177, 1 The Roman Breviary is the most authentic book the Church of Rome has, after the Scripture ; it would be less dangerous, at least in Italy, to deny any truth reveided in the Scripture, than to question any fable related in the Breviary.' Catholic divines teach, that every tittle in the Holy Scriptures is sacred, divinely inspired, and the word of God dictated by the Holy Ghost. Evp the definitions of general councils do not enjoy an equal privilege ; tkey tub indeed the oracles of sn unerring guide in the doctrine of frith j which guide received, together with the Scriptures, the true sense and meaning of the articles of faith contained in them ; and, by the special protection of too Holy Ghost, invariably preserves the same by tradition from father to ebb, according to the promises of Christ. But the Church receives no new reve- lation of frith, and adds nothing to that which was taught by the apostiea. Secondly, its decisions are not supernaturally infallible in matters of fret, as scripture histories are, but only in matters of faith. Nor do Catholics say, that its expressions, even in decisions of frith, are strictly dictated by the Hdly Ghost, or suggested fiwm him, by any immediate revelation or iispfe' ration | but only that the Churdi is directed by his particular guidance, act cording to bis divine truths revealed and delivered to his Church by his apostles. As to the Roman Breviary, the prayers consist, for the greatest {tort, of the Psalms, and other parts of the Holy Scriptures, to which the bame respect is due wbieh we pay to the divine books. The short lessons from the homilies, or other works of approved fathers, especially those fathers who are mentioned by Gelasius I. in his decree, carry with them thd authority of tbeir venerable authors* As it was the custom in the primitive ages to read, in the churches or assemblies, the acts of the most tttustrlouB Martyr*, of which frequent mention is made in those of St. Polycarp, fee., some short histories of the martyrs and other saints hart been always Inserted in the Breviary, to which only a historical assent is die, whence they have been sometimes altered and amended. These are ebiefly such as are judged authentic and probable by the Cardinals Baronins and BeHarmity Who revised those lessons, in the last correction under Clement VIII. Gavant, who was himself one of the revisers of the Breviary, and secretary td the Congregation, writes thus, (ra Brevier, see. £• e* 12* n. Id. p. 18 :) 4 The second lessons from the histories of the saints were revised by Better* nfin and Baronins, who rejected What could be jdstlf caBed & qaestiem fat

of ns sty. aisa9 bvtwu

dff

fUtt difficult tadfc they thought it bast to restore the troth of history With tho least change possible, and to retain those things which had a certain degree of probability, and had the authority of some grave voucher, though the contrary sentiment had perhaps more patrons.* In computing the years of the popes, the chronology of Baronius was judged the most exact, and retained. Historical facts, no ways revealed or contained in Scripture, can* opt be made an object of divine faith. If edifying histories are inserted in the church-office, they stand upon their own credit. Such only ought to be chosen which are esteemed authentic. This rule has been always followed whan any were compiled. If the compilers are found afterwards to have been mistaken, it is no where forbid to correct them.4 This has been often done by the order of several popes.’*

IX. 7. Among the modern collections of the Lives of Saints, of Which our author availed himself, in the work we are speaking of, the histories which different religions have written of their own orders, hold a distinguished place. But he was indebted to no work so much as the Acta Sanctorum of the Bollandists. That noble collection was first projected by Father Rosweyde, of the Society of Jesus. He died before he had completely digested his plan. For- tunately for the lovers either of sacred history or sacred literature, it was taken up by Father Boll&ndus, of the same society, and has been carried down to the 11th day of October, inclusive. Those who, after Bollandus’s decease, succeeded him in his undertaking, were from him called Bollandists.

As far os the editor has been able to learn, tho work was com- posed by the following authors, and published in the number of volumes and years following

Ho. of Yean

Months. 'Vols.. all of thair Authoia.

In fol. Appearance.

January 2 1043 Boll&ndus and Henschenius.

February 3 1058 Bollandus and Henschenius.

March 3 1068 Henschenims and P&pebroehias.

April 3 1075 Henschenius and Papebrochiut.

May 7 1080-1088 Henschenius, Papebrochius, B&ertius, and

Janningus.

June 6 1095-1715 Henschenius, Papebrochius, Baer tius, Jan-

ningus, and Sollerius.

July 7 1719-1731 Janningus, Sollerius, Pinius, Cuperus, and

Boschinus.

August 6 1733-1743 Sollerius, Pinius, Cuperus, Boschius, ana

Stiltingus.

Sept. 8 1746-1702 Pinius, Stiltingus, Limpenus, Veldius*

Suyskenius, Perierius, and Cleus.

6ctober 5 1765-1786 Stiltingus, Suyskenius, Perierius, Byeus,

Buaeus, Ghesquierus, Hubenus, ind Fronsonue.

• Nhnia pfofecto simplkatate peccant, qui soandatiaantar quotfe* audipnt *lb quid ex jam ojim qreditts, et jnjta breriarii ffeseriptma hpdiqtal iWtaadis in msputeUQftcirt adduci. Piss. BolUmdicse, voi. ai. p, 140.

ACCOUNT OF THX UFB AND WWTIKG8

Antwerp was the scene of the labours of the Boilandists* They were engaged on them, when the enemies of every thing sacred arrived there under Picbegru. The most eminent of the Boilan- dists was Father Papebroke, a rival of the Petaviuses, the Sirmond% and Mabillons ; one of those men who exalt the character of the society to which they belong, and the age in which they live. The Spanish inquisition condemned some of the volumes in which he was concerned, but afterwards retracted the censure. Several disser- tations, replete with various and profound erudition, are interspersed in the body of the work ; they are equally distinguished by the learning and the soundness and sobriety of criticism which appear in them. It would be an irreparable loss to the Christian world, that the work should not he completed. The principal dissertations have been printed, in three volumes folio, at Venice, in 1749-1759* Those who wish to see an account of the controversy which pro- duced or was occasioned by the sentence of the inquisition, may con- sult the Acta Eruditorum, 1696, p. 132-500.

IX. 8. Another source of information, of which our author availed himself, in the composition of his work, was the Acts of the Beatifi- cation and Canonization of the Saints.

The name of Martyr was given by the ancient church to those who had suffered death for the faith of Christ : the name of Con- fessor was applied to those who had made a public profession of their faith before the persecutors. It was afterwards extended to those who had edified the church by their heroic virtues. St. Martiu of Tours is generally supposed to have been the first saint, to whom the title of confessor was applied in the last sense.

Originally, every bishop had the privilege of canonizing saints, or declaring them entitled to the honours which the Catholic church bestows on her saints. The Council of Cologne, cited by Ivo of Chartres, forbids the faithful to show any public mark of veneration to any modem saint, without the permission of the diocesan. A Capitulary of Charlemagne in 601 is to the same effect.

Pope Alexander III. is supposed to have been the first Pope who reserved the exclusive privilege of canonizing saints, to the holy See. It was recognized by the church of France at a' Council at Vienne, in which the bishops, addressing themselves to Pope Gregory IX., expressly say, “ that no sanctity, however eminent, authorizes the faithful to honour the memory of a saint, without the permission of the holy See.”

The present mode of proceeding in the canonization of saints, principally takes its rise from the decree of Pope Urban VIII., dated the 13th of March, 1625. By that, he forbade the public

op *hs tav. ALtkit dmit

veneration of every new saint, not beatified or canonized ; and par* tieularly ordered, that no one, even in private, should paint the image of any person, whatever might be his reputation for sanctity, with a crown or circle of light round his head ; or expose his picture in any sacred place, or publish a history of his life, or a relation of hb virtues and miracles, without the approbation of his diocesan : that ifi in a work so approved of, the person were called saint, or blessed^ those words should only be used to denote the general holiness of his life, but not to anticipate (he general judgment of the church. His Holiness adds a form of protestation to that effect, which he re- quires the authors to sign, at the beginning and end of their works. This regulation of Pope Urban is so strictly attended to, that a single proof of the infraction of it, and even the omission of a definite sentence that there has been no infraction of it, makes the canoni- zation of the saint impossible, and invalidates the whole of the proceed- ings. The only exception is, in favour of those saints who are proved to hawe been immemorially venerated for one hundred years and upwards, before 1634, the year in which Pope Urban's bull was confirmed.

The beatification of a saint is generally considered as a prelimi- nary to his canonization. It is a kind of provisional permission, autho- rising the faithful to honour the memory of the person beatified ; but qualified as to the place or manner. A decree of Pope Alexander VIIL, in 1659, prohibits the faithful from carrying those, honours further than the bull of beatification expressly permits.

The proceedings of a beatification or canonization, are long, rigorous, and expensive:— 1st, The bishop of the diocese institutes a process, in the nature of an information, to inquire into the public belief of the virtues and miracles of the proposed, and to ascertain that the decree we have mentioned, of Pope Urban VIII., has been complied with : this proceeding begins and ends with the bishop, his sentence being conclusive. 2ndly, The acts of this proceeding, with the bishop’s sentence, are sealed up, then taken to the congregation of rites, and deposited with the notary. 3rdly, The solicitors for the congregation petition for publication of the proceedings. 4thiy, This is granted, and the proceedings, being first legally verified, are opened before the cardinal president of the congregation. 5thly, The Pope is then requested to refer the business to a particular car- dinal to report upon it. 6thly, This being granted, the writings of the proposed, if he be the author of any, are laid before the cardinal reporter. 7thly, He appoints a commission to assist him, and, with their ambiance, makes his report If one formal error against faith, one direct opinio* contrary to morals, be found in them, it puts , a

MU kccom Of «o wiw A93> WBirnros

total tod to die proceedings, unless the author, in his life, expsesdjr retracted it. " A general protestation,” says Benedict XIV* u the most sincere submission of all bis opinions to the authority of the Catholic church, saves the author from criminality, but does not pre- vent the effect of this rigorous exclusion .” 8thly, Hitherto the pro- ceedings are not in strictness before the Pope ; but from this stage pf the business, the affair wholly devolves on his Holiness. He signs a commission to the congregation of rites to institute and prosecute the process of beatification $ but, before this commission is granted, ten years mast have expired, from the time when the acts of the dio- cesan were first lodged with the congregation of rites. 9thly, The congregation of rites appoints commissaries, whom the Pope delegates, to inform themselves of the virtues and miracles of the proposed. The commissaries usually are bishops, and the bishop of the diocese, where the proposed is buried, is usually one of them ; but laymen are never employed. The proceedings of the commissaries are secret, and earned on and subscribed with the strictest order and regularity, and in great form : the last step in their proceedings is to visit the tomb of the deceased, and to draw out a verbal process of the state in which his remains are found. The original of the pro- ceedings is left with the bishops ; a legalised copy is taken of them, and returned by a sworn courier to the congregation of rites* lOthly, The solicitors for the congregation then pray for what is called a def- orce of attribution, or that an inquiry may be made into each par- ticular virtue and miracle attributed to the proposed, llthly, Upon this they proceed to make the inquiry, beginning with the virtues *nd ending with the miracles j but of the former they can take no notice in this stage of the business till fifty years from the time of the proposed’s decease: in the case of a martyr, his martyrdom alone, with proof both of the heroism with which it was suffered, and of its having been suffered purely and absolutely in the cause of Christ, is supposed to make an inquiry into his virtues unnecessary. }2thly, The final determination of the cause is settled in three ex- traordinary congregations, called the antepreparatory, the preparatory, and the general. The virtues to be approved of must be of the most heroic kind; the number of miracles is, in strictness, limited to two. The Pope collects the votes of the assembly; and two-thirds of it at least must agree in opinion before they come to a resolution. He then pronounces what is called a private sentence before the promoter and the secretary of the congregation of St.Peter. 13thly, A general congregation is then held, to determine whether it be advisable to proceed to the beatification of the proposed* 14ihly, Three consul tones we afterwards held, )6thly, The Pope then synt the. brief

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of haatifirstion The publication of it b performed in the church of the Vatican. The solicitor for the beatification presents the brief to the cardinal prefect ; he remits it to the cardinal mchprieat of the dnrek where the ceremony is held. The cardinal archpriest reads it aloud* the 7V Dettm in sang ; a collect in honour of the beatified it reed» and team is solemnised in his honour. 16thly, When the proceedings for the beatification are completed, the proceedings for the canonisation begin. But it is necessary that before any thing he done in them, new miracles should be wrought. When the so- Sckov for the canonisation is satisfied that he can prove by judicial evidence the existence of these miracles, he presents a petition for returning the cause. ITthly, Three congregations extraordinary, a general amenably, and three consistories, are held for the purpose of pronouncing on the new miracles, and determining whether it be prudent to proceed to canonisation. 18thly, This being determined •upon, the Pope issues the brief of canonisation, and soon after, the ceremonial follows. It begins by a solemn proceawon; an image of the mint is printed on several banners. When the procession arrives at the church, where the ceremony is performed, the Pope seats himself on Ins throne, and receives the usual homage of the court The solicitor for the cause and the couanterial advocate place them- selves at the feet of his Holiness, and request the canonisation; the litanies are sung; the request is made a second time; the Vent fVcofor is sung * the request is made a third time* the secretary announces, that it is the wall of the Pope to proceed immediately Upon die canonixatien * the solicitor requests that the letters of canonisation may be delivered in due form; his Holiness delivers them, and the first pvothonotary calls on all the amepbly to witness die delivery. The TV Deum is song, and high mam is solemnised.

The decree of canonisation is usually worded in these terms:— * To die glory of die Holy Trinity, for the exaltation of the Ca* thoHc frith, and dm increase of the Christian religion : in virtue of the authority of Jesus Christ, of the holy apostles St. Peter and 8l Paul, and our own, after due deliberation and frequent invocation? of the heavenly light, with consent of our venerable brethren, the car- dinals, patriarchs, archbishops, and bishops, present at Rome, we de- clare the blessed N— - to be a saint, and we inscribe him, as such, in the catalogue of the saints. . In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Such is the outline of the process of canonisation. It must be added, that the strictest evidence b required of every thing offered hi proof* It b bid down as a universal rule, which admits of no

■nylh% that Um mom «vmUbm dull bewpi N& tliiepgh ^

XXlV ACCOUNT- OF THE lot avd whitings

whole of the process, at in criminal cases is required to convict an offender of a capital crime; and that no evidence of any fact shall be received, if a higher degree of evidence of the same fact can possibly be obtained. Hence, a copy of no instrument is admitted, if the original be in existence ; no hearsay witness is received, if ocular testimony can be produced. The rigorous examination of every circumstance offered to be proved has excited the surprise of intelligent Protestants. Miracles, which to them seemed proved to the utmost degree of demonstration, have, to their surprise, been rejected. Whatever there is most awful in religion, most sacred in an oath, or most tremendous in the censures of the church, is em- ployed in the process of canonization to elicit truth and detect false- hood. Every check and countercheck is used, which slowness of proceeding, or a repetition of it in other stages, and under different forms, can effect. The persons employed in it are the members of the Roman Catholic church, the most exalted by their rank, and the most renowned for their virtues and talents. When the proceed- ings are concluded, they are printed and exposed to the examination of the whole world. The sixth volume of the celebrated treatise of Benedict XIV., on the Beatification and Canonisation of Saints, contains the acts of the saints canonized by himself.

With these helps, our author sat down to his work. Wo may suppose him addressing to the saints, whose lives he was about to write, a prayer similar to the beautiful prayer addressed to them by Bollandus, at the end of his general preface, and which may be thus abridged : “ Hail, ye citizens of heaven 1 courageous warriors I triumphant over the world 1 from the blessed scenes of your ever- lasting glory, look on a low mortal, who searches every where for the memorials of your virtues and triumphs. . Show your favour to him ; give him to discover the valuable monuments of former times; to distinguish the spurious from the legitimate; to digest bis work in proper order and method ; to explain and illustrate whatever is obscure. Take under your protection all who have patronized or assisted him in his undertakings ; obtain for all who read his work, that they imitate the examples of virtue which it places before their eyes ; and that they experience how sweet, how useful, and how glorious, it is to walk in your steps.”

In the preface to the French translation, the work is said to have cost our author the labour of thirty years. It was his practice, when he began to write the life of any saint, to read over and digest the whole of his materials, before be committed any thing to paper. His

Of THE *EV. ALBAN BTJTLEB. * ***

work evidently shows, -'that his mind was full of hs subject! and that what he wrote was the result of much previous information andi reflection. On many occasions he must have written oh subjects which were new to him $ but, such if the mutual connexion and dependence of every branch of literature, that a mind, stored like his, was already in possession of that kind of knowledge, which would make him apprehend, with great ease, whatever he had to learn ; and would instruct him, though the subject were new to him, where he might express himself decisively, and where he should doubt. How extensive and profound his general knowledge was, appears from this, that a person who happens to have made any sub- ject, treated of by him, his particular study, Will seldom read what our author has written upon it, without finding in k something ori- ginal, or, at least, so happily expressed or illustrated, as to have the merit of originality. In some instances, as in his account of the Manichaeans, in the life of St. Augustine, and of the Crusades, in the life of St. Lewis, he shows such extent and minuteness of investi- gation, as could only be required from works confined to those sub- jects. In other instances, where his materials are scanty, so that he writes chiefly from his own mind, as in the lives of St. Zita or Isidore of Pelusium, he pours an unpremeditated stream of piety, which nothing but an intimate acquaintance with the best spiritual writers could produce.

The sameness of a great number of the most edifying actions which our author had to relate, made it difficult for him to avoid a tiresome umfonnity of narrative: but he has, happily surmounted this difficulty. Another difficulty he met with, was the flat and inanimate style of the generality of the writers from whom his work was composed. Happy must he have been, when the authors he had to consult were St. Jerome, Scipio, Maffei, Boubours, or Marsollier. But most commonly they were such as might edify but could not delight. He had then to trust to his own resources, for that style, that arrangement, those reflections, which were to engage his reader’s attention. In this he has certainly succeeded. Few authors, on holy subjects, have possessed, iu a higher degree, that indescribable charm of style which rivets the reader’s attention to the book, which never [daces the writer between the book and the reader, but insen- sibly leads him to the conclusion, sometimes delighted, but always attentive and always pleased. *

His style is peculiar to himself; it partakes more of the style of the writers of the last century, than of the style of the present age. It possesses great merit, but sometimes is negligent and loose. Jdr. Gibbon Mentioned it to the editor in warn terns of commendation j

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Md in* astonkhed whan ho heard how much of out outhort life had been span t abroad* flpeahmg of oar author's Urea of the Saints, (rob iv. 417,) he caffla it w a work of merit— die cease and leaning belong to the anther hk prejudices are those of Ms profesrion/ As k is known what prejudiee means hi Mr. Gibbon's vocabulary, Oiir author’s relatives accept the character.

Having lived ao long in tha schools, he must have had a Strong predilection for some of the opinions agitated in them ; and frequent opportunities of expressing it occurred in his work. He seems to have cautiously avoided them s a single instance, perhaps, is not te be found, where any thing of the kind is discoverable in any of Ms writings. He has carefully brought before the reader every dream* Stance asking from his subject, that could be offered in proof or illustration of the particular tenets of the Roman Catholic church $ but he does it without affectation, and rather leaves the reader to draw his own conclusions, than suggests them to him. Those ex- premons which good manners and good taste reject, are never to be found in his works.

But the chief merit of hfc works is, that they make virtue and devotion amiable : be preaches penance, but he shows its rewards $ he exorts to compunction, but he shows the sweetness of pious sorrow ; he enforces humiKty, but he shows the blessedness of an humble heart ; he recommends solitude, but he shows that God where the world is net. No one reads his work who does not per- ceive die happiness, even in this world, of a holy fife, or who does not wish to die the death of a saint. Most readers of it wfll acknow- ledge, that sometimes, at least, when they have read it, every worldly emotion has died within them, and they have felt themselves in a dis- position of asiiid suited to receive the finest impressions of religion.

At the finishing of his work, he gave a very edifying instance of httmilky. The manuscript of the first volume having been sub- mitted to Mr* Challoner, the vicar apostolic of the London district, he recommended the omission of all the notes, not excepting that beautifril note which gives an account of the writings of 6t. John Chrysostom. His motive was, that by being tnade less bulky, the work might be made less expensive, and consequently more generally useful. It is easy to suppose what it must have cost our author to consign to obHvion the fruit of so much labour and so many vigils; He obeyed, however, and to this circumstance it is owing, that. In the first edition, the notes in question were omitted*

XJ.

l,. h iw to* m m A* Ww

W* ?»v. WfW- **?ji

the Saints, that tbe system of devotion which is recommended by \t is, at host, suited to the cloister. But no work has ever appeared, in which the difference between the duties of a man of the world, and the duties of a religious is more strongly pointed out. Whenever tbe author has occasion to mention any action of any saint, which is extraordinary or singular in its nature, be always observes, that it is of a kind rather to be admired than imitated-

XI. 2. It has been objected, that the piety which it mculcatef, is of the ascetic kind, and that the spirit of penance, voluntary mortification, and contempt of the world, which it breathes every where, is neither required nor recommended by the gospel. But no difference can be found, between the spirit of piety inculcated by our author, and that inculcated by the most approved authors of the Homan Catholic Church. Less of penanee, of voluntary mortification, or of contempt of the world, is not recommended by Bodriguez, by Thomas of Kempis, by. St. Francis of Sales, by Bourdaloue or Massillon, than is recommended by our author- Speaking of those “ who confound nature with grace, and who look on the cross of Jesus Christ as an object foreign to faith and piety 5— It was not thus,” says Massillon, in his Sermon on the Incarnation, *‘it was not thus, that the apostles announced the gospel to our •noestojrs. The spirit of the gospel is a holy eagerness of suffering, an incessant attention to mortify self-love, to do violence to the will, to restrain the desires, to deprive the senses of useless grati- fications ; this is the essence of Christianity, the soul of piety. If you have not this spirit, you belong not, says the apostle, to Jesus Christ ; it is of no consequence that you are not of the num- ber of the impure or sacrilegious of whom the apostle speaks, and who will not be admitted into the kingdom of Christ. You are equally strangers to him; your sentiments are not his; you still live according to nature; you belong not to the grace of our Saviour ; you will therefore perish, for it is on him alone, says the tbe apostle, that the Father has placed our salvation. A complaint is sometimes made that we render piety disgusting and impracti- cable, by prohibiting many pleasures which the world authorises. But, my brethren, what is it we tell you ? Allow yourselves all the pleasures which Christ would have allowed himself ; faith allows you no other: mix with your piety all the gratifications which Jesus Christ would have mixed in his ; the gospel allows no greater indul- gence*— -O my God, how the decisions of the world will one day be strangely reversed! when worldly probity and worldly regularity, which* by 4 false appearance of virtue, give a deceitful confidence Je §g many ewulsi wiU be plaeed by the aide oj tbe crucified Jesu%

XXVtii . ACCOUNT OF THS LIFS ANB WftTtlNGi

and will be judged by that model ! To be always renouncing your- selves, rejecting what pleases, regulating the most innocent wishes of the heart by the rigorous rules of the spirit of the gospel, is difficult, is a state of violence. But if the pleasures of the senses leave the soul sorrowful, empty, and uneasy ; the rigours of the cross make her happy. Penance heals the wounds made by herself $ like the. mysterious bush in the scripture, while man sees only its thorns and briers, the glory of the Lord is within it, and the soul that possesses him possesses all. Sweet tears of penance ! Divine secret of grace ! O that you were better known to the sinner”---— “ The pretended esprits forts,” (says Bourdaloue, in his sermon on the scandal of the cross, and the humiliations of Jesus Christ, the noblest of all his sermons, in the opinion of the Cardinal de Maury,) “ do not relish the rigorous doctrines announced by the Son Of; God in his gospel ; self-hatred, self-denial, severity to one’s self. But, when Christ established a religion for men, who were to acknow- ledge themselves sinners and criminals, ought he, as St. Jerome asks, to have published other laws ? What is so proper for sin Is penance ? What is more of the nature of penance, than the sin- ner's harshness and severity to himself? Is there any thing in this contrary to reason ? They are astonished at his ranking poverty among the beatitudes ; that he held up the cross as an attraction to his disciples to follow him ; that he declared a love of contempt was preferable to the honors of the world. In all this I see the depth of his divine counsels.” — Such is the language of Bourdaloue and Massillon preaching before a luxurious court, to the best informed and most polished audience in the Christian world. It is apprehended that no other language is found in our author’s Lives of the Saints.

XI. 3. Some (but their number is small) have imputed to our author too much credulity respecting miracles. A chain of Agio- graphists might be supposed on the first link of it we might place Surius, as possessing the utmost degree of the belief of miracles consistent with any degree of judgment ; on the last, we might place Baillet and Launoy, as possessing the utmost degree of the belief of miracles, consistent with any degree of deference to the general opiuions of pious Catholics. Between them we might place in suc- cession, according to their respective degrees of supposed belief, Ribadeneira, Baronius, the Bollandists, Tillemont, and Fleury. With which of these writers shall we class our author ? Certainly neither with Surius, nor with Baillet or Launoy. The middle links represent those, to whom the most liberal Roman Catholic will not impute too much credulity, or the most credulous too much free-

OF THE REV. ALBAJV BUTLER.

dom. Perhaps our author should rank with the Bollandists, the first of this middle' class ; and generally he who thinks with Father Papebroke on any subject of ecclesiastical literature, may be sure of thinking right. To those who wholly deny the existence of miracles, these sheets are not addressed : but the Roman Catholic may be asked on what principle he admits the evidence for the miracles of the three first centuries, and rejects the evidence for the miracles of the middle age? why he denies to St. Austin, St. Gre- gory, the venerable Bede, or St. Bernard, the confidence he places in St. Justin, St. Iraneus, or Eusebius ?

XII.

Some yean after our author had published the Lives of the Saints, he published the Life of Mary of the. Crou9 a nun in the English convent of the Poor Clares at Rouen. It is rather ^ve- hicle to convey instruction on various important duties of a religious life, and op sublime prayer, than a minute account of the life and actions of the nun. It was objected to this work, as it had been to the Saints’ lives, that it inculcated a spirit of mystic prayer, the excesses of which had been formally condemned, and the propriety of which, even in a very qualified view of it, was doubtful.

It must be admitted by those who urge this objection, that both in the Saints' Lives, and in the work of which we are speaking, our author uses very guarded expressions. He always takes care to mention, that, in the practices of devotion, as in every other prac- tice, the common is the safest road ; that many of the greatest saints have, through the whole of their lives, confined themselves to the usual modes of prayer and meditation ; that the gift of contemplation is given to few ; that, like every other practice of devotion, contem- plation has its dangers ; and that, without a perfect spirit of humility# it is much exposed to illusion 5 but he delivers at the same time an explicit opinion, that contemplation is a gift of heaven; that the happiness of a soul on whom God bestows it, is above description, and that every joy which this life affords, is contemptible in com- parison of it. This certainly is Catholic doctrine.

It is natural to suppose, that, at a time when every art and science was deluged in a quantity of barbarous words, and metaphysics were carried into every subject, the doctrine of prayer would often be involved in similar intricacies and refinements. The fact certainly is, that many writers of the middle age, on the subject of prayer, introduced into their writings a wonderful degree of metaphysical subtlety. But, if their doctrine be divested of those subtleties, and expressed in plain language, it will be found that nothing in what our

A666«itf of m un km tnos

anthdt, with other spiritualists, ealb Mystical Theologjr* tohtraffitk common sense. With them, he divides the progress of a Christian) in his advances towards perfection, into three stages ; the purgative, the Contemplative, and the unitive. In the first stage he places sinners oh their first entrance after their conversion, into a spiritual life ; Who bewail their sins, are careful to avoid relapsing Into them, endeavour to destroy their bad habits, to extinguish their passions ; who fast, watch, pray, chastise the flesh, mourn, and are blessed with a contrite and humbled heart. In the second stage he places those, who divest themselves of earthly affections, study to acquire purity of heart and a constant habit of virtue, the true light of the soul ; who meditate incessantly on the virtues and doctrines of Christ, and thereby inflame themselves to the imitation of him. Those, he supposes to be arrived at the third stage, whose souls, being thus illuminated, are united to God and enjoy his peace, which passeth understanding. According to our author, the prayer of a person, who is arrived at the last stage, is very different from that of a beginner in spiritual life. To present a pious subject to his mind, to place it in the various points of view in which it should be con- sidered, to raise the devout sentiments which the consideration of it should produce, and to form the resolutions which those sentiments should inspire, must, our author observes, be a work of exertion to a beginner. But when once he has arrived at that state of perfec- tion as to have detached himself from those objects which are the usual incitements to sin, and to which, from the natural propensity of the human heart, the imaginations of man* forcibly lead, and when an ardeht love of virtue, piety, and whatever relates to them, is habitual in her : then our author supposes that what before was exertion, becomes the usual state of the soul ; a% thousand causes of distraction cease to exist, and all the powers of the mind and affections of the heart rest with ease and pleasure on the subject of her meditation: God communicates to her his perfections; he enlightens her in the mysteries of religion, and raises in her admi- rable sentiments of wonder and love. This our author calls the prayer of contemplation. In process of time, he supposes that the habit of devotion increases ; that the soul acquires a stronger aversion from every thing that withholds her from God, and a more ardent desire of being united to him ; and that, by continually me* ditating on the sublime truths and mysteries of Christianity, she it disengaged from earthly affections, is always turned to God, and obtains a clearer view of his perfections, of her obligations to hun, and of the motives which entitle him to her love. Then, according to out author, every thing, which is not God, becomes irksome to

tor, and did Is united to him in etery action, and every thought*. At Irst the soul, by our author’s description, calk to her mind the presence of Ged } afterwards she habitually recollects it ) at length every thing eke disappears, and she tires ia him* Even in the first stage, when the sinner first turns from rice, and deteMnately en- gages in the practice of a virtuous life, our author pronounces that the comforts which she experiences in reflecting on the happiness of the change, exceed the joys of this Worid t he Supposes her to say in the words of Bourdaloue, ($ur la choim m utuel de Dim at de ft** religieutey) “ I have ehosen God, and God has chosen met thk reflection k my support and my strength, it will enable me to surmount every difficulty, to resist every temptation, to rise above Cvery chagrin and every disgust.” From the moment thk choice is made, he supposes, with the same eloquent preacher, (in his Sermon for the feast of Saint Mary Magdalen,) u that the soul, exposed till then to all the vexations which the love of the world inevitably oc- casions, begins to enjoy a sweet tranquillity : conscience begins to experience the interior joy of pious hope and confidence in the mercies of God, mid to foel the holy unction of grace ) hi the midst of her penitential austerities she comforts and strengthens herself by the thought that she k making some satisfaction and atonement to God for her sins, that she k purifying her heart, rad ctispoaing it to receive the communications of heaven. Thk comfort rad sensation of hap- piness, he observes, must necessarily increase as the charms of virtue are unveiled to the soul, and she acquires a continual habit of think- ing on God* u Who era expaess," he makes the soul exclaim with the same author, “ the secret delights which God bestows on a heart thus purified and prepared I ho# he enlightens her! how he inflames her with divine love! with what visitations he favours her! what holy sentiments and transports he excites in her I” But, when she lives for God alone, then, in our author’s language, God communicates himself with her, and her happiness, as for as happiness k attainable in thk life, is complete. Here, according to Thomas of Kempis, (and what Catholic refuses his authority 7) begins the Familumta t stupenda nimti. u What k the hundred-fold of reward,19 cries Boordaloue, (iwwon sur le renoncement rdigieute,) “ that thou, O God, hast promked to the soul which has left every thing for thee ? k h something more than I have said upon it : it is something that I cannot express : bnt it k something with which, sinful and weak at I am, God haa more than once favoured me.V' u Thou protakedst me a hundred-fold," says St* Bernard, “ I feel k; thou hast more than performed thy promise." Necessitas quod cogtt , defendiU “In defence sf ear author, this short exposition of his doctrine seemed

XXXU ACCOUNT OT TBS LOS AND WSITIHG8

necessary ; and it may be confidently asked, in what it differs from the doctrine of Rodrigues, of St. Francis de Sales, of Bourdaloue, or of many other authors, in whom the universal opinion of the Catholic world recognises, not only true devotion and piety, but extreme good sense and moderation. Nor should it be forgotten, that if the prelates assembled at Issy, in 1696, declared, (Art. 22,) “ that without any extraordinary degrees of prayer a person may become a very great saint they had previously declared, (Art. 21,) “ that even those which are passive, and approved of by St. Francis of Sales and other spiritualists, cannot be rejected.” The authors on these subjects, whom our author particularly recommended, were Balthazar, Alvarez de Pas, and St. Jure. The latter was one of the Jesuits who came into England during the reign of Charles the First. His most celebrated work is, a treatise on the Knowledge and Love of God, in five volumes— a noble effusion of the sublimest piety. The only work by which he is known in this country, is his Life of the Baron de Renty $ our author esteemed it much, but thought it censurable for men- tioning, in terms of commendation, the mode in which the Baron, to save his honour, indirectly put himself in the way of fighting a duel.

Another spiritualist, whom our author greatly admired, was the celebrated Henry Marie de Boudon. He frequently mentioned, in terms of the highest admiration, the humility and resignation with which Boudon bore the calumnies of his prelate and fellow-clergy. He often related that part of his life, when, being abandoned by the whole world, a poor convent of religious received him into their house, and he knelt down to thank Ggd that one human being still existed who was kindly disposed to him. His writings are nume- rous ; the style of them is not elegant, and they abound. with low ex- pressions ; but they contain many passages of original and sublime eloquence. Our author was also a great admirer of the works of Father Surin, particularly his Fondemens de la Vie spirituelle , edited by Father Bignon. In this species of writing, few works, perhaps, will give the reader so much pleasure as the Morale de VEvangUe9 in four vols. 8vo^ by Father Neuvile, brother to the celebrated preacher of that name. It is to be hoped that it will be translated into English. * Our author greatly lamented the consequences of the

# For this and many other valuable works we naturally look to Stoneyhurst. If die Mu m exulantea,* in the swamps of Bruges, could produce an elegant and nervous translation of Cato, will their notes he less strong or less sweet in their native land ? May we not expect from Stoneyhnrst other Petaviuses, other Sirmonds, other Porfes, future Strachans, future Stanleys, future Heskeys, future Stricklands. If any of them would favour us with a translation of Father Montreuil’s Vie de Jesus Christ , he would supply the English Catholic

• ThtlUUe sfftuasd by ttao, la the prefcce to tkt LaUa tmntstioa of Cato.

OB THE BBV. ALBAN BOTLEB, IXxiii

altercation between Fenelon and Bossuet. He thought the condem- nation which had been passed in it, on the abuses of devotion, had brought devotion itself into discredit, and thrown a ridicule on the

with the present desideratum of his library, an interesting' and accurate Hie of Christ A literary history of the gospels, showing the state of the text and the grammatical peculiarities of their idiom, and containing a short account of me early versions, would be an invaluable work. The excellent translation by Mr. Combes, the professor of divinity in St. Edmond's College, of selected parts of St. Basil, ana St. John Chrysostom, shows his ability to execute such a work and leads ns to hope it for him. The mention of these gentlemen, natu- rally makes us reflect on the singular kindness shown by this country to the foreign exiles. The Editor begs leave to cony, what has been said by him on this subject in a small work, entitled Hora Biblias. After mentioning some of the most splendid of the Biblical exertions of the English, the compiler of that work says, “ Yet, useful and magnificent as these exertions have been, an edition of the New Testament has lately appeared in this country, which, hi one point of view, eclipses them all. It has been our lot to be witnesses of the most tremendous revolution that Christian Europe has known : a new race of enemies to the Christian religion has arisen, and from Rome to Hangary has struck at every altar, and shaken every throne. One of their first enormities was, the murder of a large proportion of their clergy, and the banishment of almost the whole of^ the remaining part. Some thousands of those respectable exiles found refuge in England. A private subscription of £3 3,775 1 5s. 9$d. was immediately made for them. When it was exhausted a second was collected, under the auspices of his Majesty, and produced £41,304 12/. 3\d. Nor is it too much to say, that the beneficence of individuals, whose chanties on this occasion are known to God alone, raised for the sufferers a sum much exceeding • the amount of the larger of the two subscriptions. When at length the wants of the sufferers exceeded the measure of private charity, government took them under its protection, and, though engaged in a war, exceeding all former wars in expense, appropriated, with the appro bation of the whole kingdom, a monthly allowance of about £8000 for their support ; an instance of splendid munifi- cence and systematic liberality, of which the annals of the world do not furnish another example. The management of the contributions was entrusted to a committee, of whom Mr. Wilmot, then one of the members of parliament for the city of Coventry, was president : on him the burden of the trust almost wholly fell ; and his humanity, judgment, and perseverance, in discharge of it, did honour to himself and ms country.

“It should be observed, that the contributions we have mentioned are exclu- sive of those which were granted for the reUef of the lay emigrants.

“fio suddenly had the unhappy sufferers been driven from their country, that few of them had brought with them any of those books of religion or devotion, which their clerical character and habits of prayer hod made the companions of their past life, and which were to become almost the chief comfort of their future years. To relieve them from this misfortune, the University of Oxford, at her sole expense, printed for them at the Clarendon Press, two thousand copies of the Latin Vulgate of the New Testament, from an edition of Barbou; but this number not being deemed sufficient to satisfy the demand, two thou- sand more copies were added, at the expense of the Marquis of Buckingham. Few will forget the piety, the blameless demeanour, the long patient suffering of these respectable men. Thrown on a sadden into a foreign country, differing? from theirs in religion, language, manners, and habits, the uniform tenor of their

?*ous and unoffending lives, procured them universal respect and good will.

he country that received them has been favoured. In the midst of the public and private calamity, which almost every nation has experienced, Providence has crowned her with glory and honour; peace has dwelt in her palaces, plenty within her walls ; every climate has been tributary to her commerce, •very sea has been witness of her victories."

€

xxxly acco xart of The life a*d whitings

holiness of an interior life. Of Fenelon he always spoke with the lpgliest respect. One of the editors of the last edition of his works i| now in England: he has declared that it appeared from Fenelon’s papers that his exertions to the very last, to ward off the sentence of the condemnation of his works, were most active. This enhanced the value of his sacrifice. Our author thought that Valarthad abun- dantly proved that Thomas of Kempis was not the author of the Imi- tation of Christ 5 but that he had not proved it to be written by Gersen, the abbot of Vercelli. He also differed from Valart in his opinion of the general merit of the works of Thomas of Kempis ; his treatises De tribus TabemqcuUs and De vera Compunctions , (the latter particularly) he thought excellent. *

*IIL

Some time after our author’s return to England, from his travels with Mr. Edward Howard, he was chosen president of the English College at St. Omers. That college was originally founded by the English Jesuits. On the expulsion of the society from France, the English Jesuits shared the fate of their brethren.

Pn his being named to the presidency of the English College at St. Omers, doubts were suggested to him, on the justice or propriety of his accepting the presidency of a college, which, in fact, belonged * to others. He advised with the bishop of Amiens and the bishop of Bologne upon this point, and they both agreed in opinion, that he might safely accept it.

He continued president of the college of St. Orneris till his decease.

• Our author was a great admirer of the writings of Abraham Woodhead ; he purchased his manuscripts, and by hi* will, bequeathed them to the English College at Douay. Mr. Woodhead is one of the writers, to whom the cele- brated FFTiofe duty of Man has been attributed. On that subject the editor is in possession of the following note in our author’s hand writing : — u Mr. Simon Herrington, who died in 1758, endeavoured to give Mr. Woodhead the honour of being the author of the Whole Duty of Man, and other works of the same kind, but there is a difference of style between them ; there occurring in the t^Thole Duty of Man and the other works of that author scarce any parentheses, with which all Mr. Woodhead ’s works abound. Nevertheless, certain it is, that Dr. John Fell, dean of Christ Church, (afterwards bishop of Oxford,) who pub- lished the other works of the author of the Whole Duty of Man, namely, the La- dies* Calling, the Art of Contentment, the Government of the Tongue ; the Lively Oracles given unto us, <fcc., in folio, at Oxford, in 1675-1678, and wrote the preface which he prefixed to this edition, and who was the only person then living who knew the author of the Whole Duty of Man, gave this book of the whole Duty of Man to his bookbinder and Hawkins his bookseller in London, with other pieces of Mr. Woodhead’s, and ordered Mr. Woodhead’*, name to be added to the title of this as well as of the other works which he gave to be bound. — If Mr. Woodhead wrote that celebrated work, it was before he travelled abroad, or had any thoughts of embracing the Catholic faith.” The fame anecdote waf mentioned to me editor by the late Mr. Cballoner#

09 THE BEV« ALBAN BUTLEB. XXXV

|t ipag expected by his friends, that his office of president would leave him much time for his studies ; but these expectations wholly failed* He was immediately appointed vicar-general to the bishops of Arras^ St. Orners, Ipres, and Bologne. This involved him in an immensity of business ; and, his reputation continually increasing, he was coin suited from every part of France on affairs of the highest moment. The consequence was, that, contrary to the wishes and expectations of his friends, he never was so little master of his time as he was during his residence at St. Orners. The editor has been favoured with the following letter, which will show the esteem in which our author was held by those who, at the time we speak of, lived in habits of intimacy with him :

“ You have occasioned me, Sir, to experience a heartfelt satisfaction in allowing me an intercourse with you on the subject of the late Mr. Butler, your unde, and to communicate to you the particulars within my knowledge, concerning the life, the eminent virtues, and uncommon abilities of that cele- brated gentleman. Never was I acquainted with any of my cotemporaries who was at once so learned, so pious, so gentle, so modest ; and whatever high opinion might be conceived of him, from a perusal of his immortal work on the Lives of Saints, that masterpiece of the most extensive erudition, of the most enlightened criticism, and of that unction which commands the affections ; such an opinion is greatly inferior to the admiration which he in- spired to those persons, who, like myself, had the happiness to live in inti- mate connexion with him. The paternal kindness, and, I am bold to say it, the tender friendship, with which he honoured my youth, have indelibly en- graved on my heart the facts I am about to relate to you with the most scru- pulous exactness. Monsieur de Conzie, now bishop of Arras, having been raised to the see of St. Orners in 1766, caused me to be elected a canon in his cathedral church ; he nominated me one of his vicars-general, and I repaired thither on the 5th of October, 1767.

“ That prelate, whose high reputation dispenses with my encomiums, men- tioned your unde to me, on the very day of my arrival. ‘I am here pos- sessed, said he, ‘of a hidden treasure ; and that is Mr. Butler, the president of the English college. I for the first time saw him,’ added he, ‘during the ceremony of my installation. He was kneeling on the pavement in the midst of the crowd, his countenance and deportment had something heavenly in them : I inquired who he was ; and upon his being named to me, I caused him, though reluctant, to be conducted to one of the first stalls in the choir. 1 will entreat him/ said moreover the prelate, ‘to favour you with his friend- ship; he shall be your counsel, you cannot have better.’ I made answer, that Monsieur de Beaumont, the illustrious archbishop of Paris, in whose palace I had enjoyed the invaluable benefit of passing two years, had often spoken of him to me in the most honourable terms ; that he had commis- sioned me, at my departure, to renew to him the assurance of his particular esteem; and that I would neglect nothing to be thought worthy of his bene- volence.

“ I was so happy as to succeed in it within a short time. His lordship, the bishop, condescended to wish me joy of it, and entrusted me with the design he had formed, of honouring the assembly of his vicars-general, by making him our colleague# I was present when he delivered to him his

xxxvi

ACCOUNT ON THE LINE AND WHITINGS

credentials ; which moment will never forsake my remembrance. I bebeld your dear uncle suddenly casting himself at the prelate’s knees, and beseech- ing him, with tears in Ids eyes, not to lay that burden upon him. *Ah ! my Lord said he to him, *1 am unable to fill so important a place ;* nor did he yield but upon an express command: 1 Since you require it shall be so,' saidhey *1 will obey ; that is the first of my duties .* What an abundant source of re- flections was this for me, who was then but twenty-six years of age. It was then especially that I resolved to make up for my inexperience, by taking him for my guide who had been giving me that great example of Christian humility.

“The bishop had already showed him his confidence, by placing his own nephew in the English college, as also that of the bishop of Senlis, his friend, and the son of one of his countrymen. I had the charge of visiting them frequently. I used to send for them to dine with me on every school holi- day. If one of them had been guilty of a fault, the punishment inflicted was, that he should desire Mr. Butler to keep him at home. But it almost al- ways proved useless; he would himself bring me the delinquent, and ear- nestly solicit his pardon ; • Depend upon it,' said he to me one day, *he will be- have better for the future' I asked him what proof he had of it. ‘Sir,* an- swered he, in the presence of the lad, ‘he has told me so.* I could not forbear smiling at such confidence in the promises of a schoolboy of ten years old ; but was not long before I repented. In a private conversation he observed to me, that one of the most important rules in education, is to impress chil- dren with a persuasion, that the vices we would keep them from, such as lying, and breaking one’s word, are too shocking to be thought possible. A maxim this, worthy of the great Fenelon, his beloved model, and which com- mon tutors do not so much as surmise.

“ Those three youths, our common functions of vicars-general, the de- lightful company of our uncle, and the frequent need I had of drawing from that source of light, carried me almost every day to the English college. I could delineate to you. Sir, his ordinary course of life in the inward adminis- tration of that house ; I could tell you of his assiduousness at all the exer- cises ; of his constant watchfulness ; of the public and private exhortations he made to his pupils, with that persuasive eloquence we meet in his wri- tings ; of his pious solicitude for all their wants ; and of their tender attach- ment to him. His room was continually filled with them. He never put on the harsh and threatening magisterial look; he was like a fond mother surrounded by her diildreii ; or he was rather, according to the expression,* the eagle not disdaining to teach her young ones to soar, and carrying them on her expanded wings, to save them from a fatal fall. But I leave to his worthy co-operators, the satisfaction of detailing to you those particulars, which I only transiently beheld, and which I never saw without being af- fected. How many interesting anecdotes will they have to acquaint you with ?

“ Every instant that Mr. Butler did not dedicate to the government of his college he employed in study ; and, when obliged to go abroad, he would read as he walked along the streets. 1 have met him with a book under each arm, and a third in his hands, and have been told, that travelling one day on horseback, he fell a reading, giving the horse his full liberty. The creature used it to eat a few ears of corn that grew on the road side. The owner came in haste, swearing that he would be indemnified. Mr. Butler, who knew nothing of the damage done, no sooner perceived it, than, blushing, he said to the countryman, with his usual mildness, that his demand was just;

# Sicut aquila provocans ad volandam pullos suos et super eos volitans ex- pandit alas suos. Deuteron. cap. xxii.

Google

07 THE REV, ALBAN BUTLER.

XXXVU

he then draws out a Louis-d’or and gives it to the fellow, who would have been very well satisfied with a few pence, makes repeated apologies to him, easily obtains forgiveness, and goes on his way.

“ Notwithstanding such constant application, the extensiveness of his knowledge was next to a prodigy. Whenever I happened to consult him on any extraordinary question, upon which the authors most familiar to us were silent, he would take me to the library of the abbey of St. Bertin, would ask for old writers, whose names I was scarce acquainted with, and point out to me, even before I had opened them, the section and chapter in which I should find my difficulty solved.

“ Nor would I have you think, Sir, that the ecclesiastical sciences were the only that he had applied to. A couple of anecdotes I am going to relate, and which I could hardly have believed, had I not been witness to them, will prove to you that every kind of information was reunited in his in- tellect, without the smallest confusion.

“ Monsieur de Conzid, after his translation from the bishoprick of 8t. Omers to that of Arras, invited him to come and see him there. My brother vicars and myself sought one day for a question which he should not be able to answer, and thought we had found one. Accordingly we asked him, what was the name of a pear, called (in French) bon Chretien , before the coming of Christ, and Christianity. ‘ There are,* answered he, ‘ two systems on that point;* and then he quotes us two modem naturalists, sets forth their opinions, and unfolds to us the authorities with which they backed them. I had the curiosity to ascertain one of those quotations, and found it accurate to a tittle.

“ A few days after, the bishop of Arras, having his drawing-room filled with company, Mr. President was announced ; the bystanders, thinking it to be the first president of the Council d’ Artois, opened him a gangway to come at the prelate ; they behold a priest enter, whom, by his bashful and modest looks, they take for some country curate, and by a simultaneous motion they close up the passage which they had made. The bishop, who had already descried his dear president of the English college, perceived also the motion, and resolved to put the authors of it to the blush. He observed in one comer of the room a group of military men ; he goes up to them, and finding they were conversing upon the question keenly debated at that time, whether in battle the thin order, observed in our days, be preferable to the deep order of the ancients ; he called to Mr. Butler and asked him what he thought of it? I then heard that amazing man, talking on the art of war, with the modest tone of a schoolboy, and the depth of the most consummate military man. I observed admiration in the countenance of all those officers ; and saw several of them, who, being too far off, stood up upon chairs to hear and see him. They altogether put to him questions upon questions, and each of his answers caused fresh applause.

“ His lordship left us to go and join another group, consisting of magis- trates, who were discussing a point of common law ; and in like manner called upon his oracle, who, by the sagacity of his reflections, bore awa y all suffrages, and united their several opinions.

“ The prelate, next, taking him by the hand, presented him to the ladies, seated round the fire-place, and asked him, whether the women in ancient times wore their head-dresses as high as ours then did. 'Fashions,* answered he, * like the spokes of a wheel turning on its axis, are always replaced by those very ones which they have set aside* He then described to us the dresses both of the men and women, in the various ages of our monarchy ; ‘ and to go still further back,* added he, *the statue of a female Druid has been found, whose Head -

XtiVlii ACCotJNT OF THE LIFE ASH WRITINGS

dress measured half a yard in height: I have been myself to see it, and have measured it *

“ What astonished me most was, that studies so foreign ' to the super- natural objects of piety, shed over his soul neither aridity nor lukewarmness. He referred all things to God, and his discourse always concluded by some Christian reflections, which he skilfully drew from the topic of the conver- sation. His virtue was neither minute nor pusillanimous; religion had in his discourse, as well as in his conduct, that solemn gravity, which can alone make it worthy of the Supreme Being. Ever composed, he feared neither contradictions nor adversities ; he dreaded nothing but praises. He never allowed himself a word that could injure any one’s reputation ; his noble generosity was such, that, as often as I happened to prize in his presence any one of his books, or of the things belonging to hjm, I the same day found them in my possession. In short, I will confess it, to my confusion, that for a longtime I sought to discover a failing in him ; and I protest, by all that is most sacred, that I never knew one in him. These are the facts, Sir, you were desirous of knowing ; in the relation of which I have used no exaggeration, nor have had any thing to’ dissemble. I have often related these facts to my wondering friends, as a relief to my heart ; and indeed, notwith- standing the distance of time, they recur as fresh to my remembrance as if just transacted before my eyes.

t( I was at a distance from St. Omers when death robbed me of my respectable friend. Time has not alleviated the sorrow which the loss of him fixed deeply in my breast. I have preciously preserved some of his presents, and careftdly concealed them at my leaving France. Way I one day find again those dear pledges of friendship, the recollection of which is, in our calamities, the sweetest of my consolations.

» “ I have the honour to be, with the highest regard*

“ Sir, your most obedient, &c., &c.

“L’Abbe db la Sbpouze.

«At the Hague, Pec. SO, 1794.’*

During our author’s stay at St. Omers, a thesis was printed and publicly defended, in a neighbouring university, which excited his attention. Mi*. Joseph Berington presided at the defensions of it. It certainly contained many propositions which were offensive to pious ears ; but respectable persons are said to have declared, that it contairted nothing materially contrary to the faith of the Roman Ca- tholic Church; and the editor feels it a duty incumbent on him to add, that one of the bishops, to whom our author was grand ticar, mentioned to the editor, that he thought his vicar had shown too mtich tivacity on that occasion.

XIV.

tloth from our author’s letters, and from what is recollected of his conversations,!! appears, that he often explicitly declared, that if power- ful measures were not adopted to prevent it, a revolution in France would take place, both in church, and state. He thought irreligion, and a general corruption of manners, gained ground every where. On the decay of piety in France, he once mentioned in confidence to

or THE SET. ALBAN BtJTLEB. XXX ix

the fedltor, a circumstance so shocking, that even, after whit has pub- licly happened, the editor does not think himself justifiable in men* tioning it in this place. He seems to have augured well on the change of ministry which took place on the expulsion of the Choiseuls. He was particularly acquainted with the Cardinal de Bernis, and thd Mareschal de Muy. Of the latter he writes thus in one of his letters : “ Mr. de Muy, who has sometimes called upon me, and often WiiteA to me as the most affectionate of friends, is unanimously called the most virtuous and upright nobleman in the kingdom. The late Dauphin’s projects in favour of religion, he will endeavour to execute* He is minister of war. The most heroic piety will be promoted bf him by every method : if I gave you an account of his life; you would be charmed by so bright a virtue”

XV.

Our author had projected many works besides those which we have mentioned. Among them his treatise on the Moveable Feast * may be reckoned. He very much lamented that he had not time to com- plete it : What he had prepared of it, he thought too prolix, and if he had lived to revise it, he would have made great alterations in it. Some time after his decease it was published under the inspection of Mr. Challoner. He proposed writing the lives of Bishop Fisher And Sir Thoihas More, and had made great collections, with a view to such a work. Some of them are in the hands of the editor, and Are at the command of any person to whom they can be of use. He had begun a treatise to explain and establish the truths of natural and Re- vealed religion ; he was dissatisfied with what Bergier had published on those subjects. He composed many sermons, and an immense number of pious discourses. From what remained of the three last articles, the three volumes of his discourses, which have appeared sitice his decease, were collected. The editor is happy in this oppor* tunity of mentioning his obligations to the Rev. Mr. Jones, for re- vising and superintending the publication of them. They are ac- knowledged to possess great merit : the morality of them is entitled to great praise ; the discourse on conversation shows a considerable knowledge of life and manners. Having mentioned his sermons, it is prope^o add, that as a preacher he almost wholly failed. His sermons were sometimes interesting and pathetic, but they were always desultory, and almost always immeasurably long. The editoR has lately published his Short Life of Sir Toby Matthews .

He was very communicative of his manuscripts, and consequently matly of them were lost ; so that, on an attentive examination of

ACCOUNT OP THE LIFE AND WHITINGS

them, after his decease, none bat those we have mentioned were thought fit for the press.

XVI.

The number of letters written by our author exceeds belief ; if they could be collected, they would be found to contain an immense mass of interesting matter, on many important topics of religion and literature. He corresponded with many persons of distinction both among the communicants with the see of Rome, and the separatists from her. Among the former may be reckoned the learned and elegant Lambertini, who afterwards, under the name of Benedict XIV., was honoured with the papal crown : among the latter may be reckoned Dr. Louth, the bishop, first of Oxford, afterwards of London, the celebrated translator of Isaiah. In a Latin note on Michaelis, our author speaks of that prelate as his intimate ac- quaintance, “ necessitate conjunctissimus .”

He had the happiness to enjoy the friendship and esteem of many persons distinguished by rank, talents, or virtue. The holy bishop of Amiens spoke of him in the highest terms of admiration and regard. In the life written in French of that excellent prelate, he is mentioned “as the most learned man in Europe.” He is styled by Father Brotier, in his preface to his edition of Tacitus, “ sacra eruditione perceleber.” The late Mr. Philips, in the preface to his life of Cardinal Pole, mentioning the edition of his letters by Car- dinal Quirini, expresses himself thus : “ They were procured for the author by Mr. Alban Butler, to whom the public is .indebted for the most useful and valuable work which has appeared in the English language on the Lives of the Saints, and which has been so much esteemed in France, that it is now translating into the language of a country celebrated for biography, with large additions by the author. This gentleman’s readiness on all occasions to assist the author in his undertaking, was answerable to his extensive know- ledge and general acquaintance with whatever has any relation to erudition.” Our author was not satisfied with the French trans- lation of his work : the writers professed to translate it freely ; but he thought that they abused the privilege of free translation, that they misrepresented his meaning, that their style was affected, and that the devotional cast which he had laboured to give tM0 original, was wholly lost in their translation. The editor has heard that a translation of it was begun in the Spanish and Italian languages, but he has seen no such translation. Dr. Kennicot spoke loudly of our author’s readiness and disinterested zeal to oblige. Even the stern Mr. Hollis mentions him, in his memoirs, with some degree of kind-

07 THE BEV* ALBAH BUTLER.

xli

ness. No person was more warmly attached to his friends* With his affectionate and generous disposition, no one was more sensible of unkindness than he was ; but none forgave it more readily* It was his rule to cultivate those who were inimical to him by every mark of attention and act of kindness ; and rather to seek, than avoid an intercourse with them. His incessant attention to his studies fre- quently made him absent in society : this sometimes produced whim- sical incidents*

Whatever delight he found in his literary pursuits, he never sacrificed his religious duties to them, or permitted them to tres- pass on his exercises of devotion . Huet, whom, from his resem- blance to our author in unremitted application to study, the editor has often had occasion to mention, laments his own contrary conduct, in very feeling terms : — “ I was entirely carried,” says he, (de rebus ad sum pertinentibus , 174,) “by the pleasure found in learning : the endless variety which it affords had taken up my thoughts, and seized all the avenues of my mind, that I was alto- gether incapable of any sweet and intimate communication with God* When I withdrew into religious retirement, in order to recollect my scattered thoughts, and fix them on heavenly things, I experienced a dryness and insensibility of soul by which the Holy Spirit seemed to punish this excessive bent to learning.” This misfortune our author never experienced. A considerable portion of his time was devoted to prayer. When it was in his power, he said mass every day; when he travelled, he rose at a very early hour, that he might hear it; he never neglected the prayer of the Angelas , and, when he was not in the company of strangers, he said it on his knees. He recommended a frequent approach to tfie sacrament of the altar : some, under his spiritual direction, communicated almost every day* The morale severe of the Jansenists he strongly reprobated in dis- course, and no person receded further from it in practice : but he was an admirer of the style of the gentlemen of Port Royal, and spoke with praise of their general practice of avoiding the insertion of the pronoun I, in their writings* He thought the Bible should not be read by very young persons, or by those who were wholly uninformed : even the translation of the whole divine office of the church, he thought should not be given to the faithful promiscuously. In the printed correspondence of Fenelon, a long letter by him on frequent communion, and one on reading the Bible, (they deserve to be translated and generally read,) express exactly our author’s senti- ments on those subjects. All singularity in devotion was offensive to him. He exhorted every one to a perfect discharge of the ordi-

ilii ACCOUNT OF T&B tl tti AND WAITINGS

nary duties of Ills situation, to a conformity with the divine iHU, botft in great and little occasions, to good temper and mildness in his intercourse with his neighbour, to an habitual recollection of the divine presence, to a scrupulous attachment to truth, to retirement, to extreme sobriety. These, he used to say, were the virtues of the primitive Christians, and among them, he said, we should always look for perfect models of Christian virtue. Fleury*s account of them, in his Manners of the Christians, he thought excellent, and frequently recommended the perusal of it. Me exhorted all to devotion to the Mother of God : many under his care, said her office every day. Tlie advantage of mental prayer he warmly inculcated. In the conduct of souls he was all mildness and patience : motives of love were oftener in his mouth than motives of fear ; “ for to him that loves, nothing,” he used to say, with the author of the Imitation of Christ; “ is difficult.” He often sacrificed his studies and private devotions to the wants of his neighbour. When it was in his power he attended the ceremony of the salut at the parish church ; and on festivals particularly solemnized by any community of the towns in which he resided, he usually assisted at the divine service in their churches. He was very abstemious in his diet ; and considered sys- tematic sensuality as the ultimate degradation of human nature* He never was heard to expre^so much disgust, as at conversations where, for a great length of fflne, the pleasures of the table, or the comparative excellence of dishes, had been the sole topic of conver- sation ; yet he was very far from being an enemy to rational mirth, and he always exerted himself to entertain and promote the plea- sures of his friends. In all his proceedings he was most open and unreserved: from selfishness, none could be more free. Dr. Kenni- cot often said, that of the many he had employed in his great bibli- cal undertaking, none had shown more activity, or more disinterest- edness, ihan our author. He was zealous in the cause of religion, but his seal was without bitterness or animosity : polemic acrimony was unknown to him. He never forgot, that in every heretic he saw a brother Christian ; in every infidel he saw a brother man. He greatly admired Drouen de Sacramentis, and Borango’s Theology, 'fournely he preferred much to his antagonist Billouart* He thought Houbigant too bold a critic, and objected some novelties to the Hebraizing friars of the Hue St. Honore. He believed the letters of Ganganelli, with the exception of two or three at most, to be spurious. Their spuriousness has been since placed beyond con- troversy by the Diatribe Clementine , published in 1777. Caraccioli* the editor of them, in his Remer dement a V auteur de FanneeLiile -

OF THE MV, ALBA* BtJTLER. adlif

raire de la part de V Pdxteur des Lettres du Pape Ganganelli, acknowledges that he filled sixty pages at least of them, with thoughts and insertions of his own compositions* In the handwriting of & gentleman remarkable for his great accuracy, the editor has before him the following account of our author’s sentiments on usury i “ Mr. Alban Butler’s opinion of receiving interest for money, in a letter dated 20th June, 1735, but copied anno 1738* 111 England and in some other countries, the laws allow of five per cent., and even an action at law for the payment of it. This is often allowable in 6 trading country ; and, as it is the common practice in England, t shall not blame any one for taking or even exacting interest money $ therefore will say nothing against it in general: but in my oWh regard, I am persuaded it is not warrantable in conscience, but iri three cases ; viz., either for a gain ceasing, as merchants lend money which they would otherwise employ in trade, lucrum cessans : or secondly, some detriment the lender suffers by it, damnum emergens: or thirdly, some hazard in the principal money, by its being exposed to some more than ordinary danger, in being recovered safely* Some time afterwards the said Alban Butler was convinced there was no occasion of scruple in receiving interest for money, so that it was at a moderate or low rate of interest; and that there wag reason to believe the borrower made full the advantage of the money that he paid for it by the interest.”

Our author’s love of learning continued with him to the last. Literary topics were frequently the subject of his familiar conver- sation. He was a great admirer of what is called the simple style of writing; and once mentioned that if he could acquire a style by wishing for it, he should wish for that of Herodotus. He thought the orator appeared too much in Cicero’s philosophical works, ex- cept his offices : that work he considered to be one of the most perfect models of writing which have come down to us from antiquity. He professed to discover the man of high breeding and elegant so- ciety in the commentaries of Caesar ; and to find expressions in the writings of Cicero which showed a person accustomed to address a mob, the fcex Romani populi . He believed the works of Plato hid been much interpolated; and once mentioned, without blame. Father Hardouin’s opinion, that they were wholly a fabrication of the middle age. Of the modern Latin poets, he most admired Watlius, and in an illness desired his poems to be read to him. He himself sometimes composed Latin poetry. He preferred the Paradisus Animce to its rival prayer-book, the Coeleste*Palmeium. Of the last he spoke with great contempt. The little fhyming

xliv

ACCOUNT OP THE LIPE AND WRITINGS

offices, which fill a great part of it, are not very interesting ; but, the explanation in it of the psalms in our Lady’s office, of the psalms in the office for the dead, of the gradual and seven penitential psalms, and of the psalms sung at vespers and complin, is excellent. A person would deserve well of the English Catholics who should translate it into English. The Cceleste Palmetum was the favourite prayer-book of the low countries. By Foppens’s Bibliotheca Bel- gica , it appears that the first edition of it was printed at Cologne in 1660; and that, during the first eight years after its publication, more than 14,000 copies of it were sold. Most readers will be sur- prised, when they are informed that our author preferred the ser- mons of Bossuet to those of Bourdaloue : but in this he has not been absolutely singular ; the celebrated Cardinal de Maury has avowed the same opinion ; and, what is still more extraordinary, it has also been avowed by Father Neuville. Bossuet’s Discourse upon Universal History may be ranked among the noblest efforts of human genius that ever issued from the press. In the chronological part of it, the scenes pass rapidly but distinctly ; almost every word is a sentence, and every sentence presents an idea, or excites a senti- ment of the sublimest kind. The third part of it, containing his reflections on the events which produced the rise and fall of the ancient empires of the earth, is not inferior to the celebrated work of Montesquieu on the Greatness and Fall of the Roman Empire ; but, in the second part, the genius of Bossuet appears in its full strength. He does not lead his reader through a maze of argumen- tation, he never appears in a stretch of exertion ; but, with a conti- nued splendor of imagery, magnificence of language, and vehemence of argument, which nothing can withstand, he announces the sublime truths of the Christian religion, and the sublime evidence that sup- ports them, with a grandeur and force that overpower and disarm resistance. Something of this is to be found in many passages of his sermons ; but, in general, both the language and the arguments of them are forced and unnatural. His letters to the nuns are very interesting. Let those who affect to talk slightingly of the devotions of the religious recollect, that the sublime Bossuet bestowed a con- siderable portion of his time upon them. The same pen that wrote the discourse on Universal History, the funeral oration of the Prince of Conde, and the History of the Variations, was at the command of every religious who requested from Bossuet a letter of advice, or consolation. “ Was he at Versailles, was he engaged on any literary work of importance, was he employed on a pastoral visit of his diocese? still,” say the Benedictine editors of his works, “ he always

ON THE MV# ALBAN BUtLEB.

xlv

found time to write to his correspondents on spiritual concerns.” In this he had a faithful imitator in our author. No religious com- munity addressed themselves to him who did not find in him a zealous director, an affectionate and steady friend. For several among the religious, he had the highest personal esteem. Those who remember him during his residence at St. Omers, will recollect his singular respect for Mrs. More, the superior of the English con- vent of Austins at Bruges. He was, in general, an enemy to the private pensions of nuns, (see Boudon’s letter, Sur le relachement qui Jest introduit dam Fobservatton du vatu de pauvreta — Lettres de Boudon, voL L p. 500,) but in this, as in every other instance, he wished the reform, when determined upon, to proceed gently and gradually.

All who have had an opportunity of observing the English com- munities since their arrival in this country, have been edified by their amiable and heroic virtues. Their resignation to the persecution which they have so undeservedly suffered, their patience, their cheerfulness, their regular discharge of their religious observances, and, above all, their noble confidence in Divine Providence, have gained them the esteem of all who kimw them. At a village near London, a small community of Carmelites lived for several months, almost without the elements of fire, water, or air. The two first, (for water unfortunately was there a vendible commodity,) they could little afford to buy ; and from the last (their dress confining them to their shed,) they were excluded. In the midst of this severe distress, which no spectator could behold unmoved, they were happy. Submission to the will of God, fortitude and cheer- fulness, never deserted them. A few human tears would fall from them, when they thought of their convent ; and with gratitude, the finest of human feelings, they abounded ; in other respects they seemed of another world. " Whatever,” says Dr. Johnson, M with- draws us from the power of our senses ; whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future, predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of human beings .” It would be difficult to point out persons to whom this can be better applied than these venerable

ladies whose lives are more influenced by the past, the distant, or

the future, or so little influenced by the present.

Our author was not so warm, on any subject, as the calumnies against the religious of the middle age : he considered the civili- zation of Europe to be owing to them. When they were charged with idleness, he used to remark the immense tracts of land, which, from the rudest state of nature, they converted to '* high state of

jlvi account of the life and whitings

husbandry in the Hercynian wood, the forests of Champagne and Burgundy, the morasses of Holland, and the fens of Lincolnshire and Cambridgeshire. When ignorance was imputed to them, he psed to ask, what author of antiquity had reached us, for whose Works we were not indebted to the monks. He could less endure, that they should be considered as instruments of absolute power to epslave the people : when this was intimated, he observed, that, during the period which immediately followed the extinction of the parlovingian dynasty, when the feudal law absolutely triumphed over monarchy, the people were wholly left to themselves, and must have sunk into an absolute state of barbarism, if it had not been for the religious establishments. Those, he said, softened the manners of the conquerors, afforded refuge to the vanquished, preserved an intercourse between nations ; and, when the feudal chiefs rose to the raqk of monarchs, stood as a rampart between them and the people. He thought St. Thomas of Canterbury a much injured character. He often pointed out that rich tract of country, which extends from St* Pmers to fnege, as a standing refutation of those who asserted, that convents and monasteries were inimical to the populousness of a country ; he observed, that the whole income of the smaller houses, and two-thirds of the revenufb of the greater houses, ivere constantly spent within twenty miles round their precincts; that their lands prera universally let at low rents ; that every abbey had a school for the instruction of its tenants ; and that no human institution was so we(l calculated to promote the arts of painting, architecture, and sculpture, works in iron and bronze, and every other species of workmanship, as abbeys or monasteries, and their appendages. “ Thus,” he used to say, u though the country in view was originally a marsh, and has for more than a century wholly survived its com- merce, it is the most populous country in Europe ; and presents on the face of it as great a display of public and private strength, wealth, and affluence, as can be found in any other part of the world.” Fortunately for him he did not live to be witness to the domiciliary visit which in our times it has received from France. What would he have thought, if any person had told him, that, before the expiration of the century in which he lived, the French themselves would, in perfect hatred of Christ, destroy the finest churches of France ? At their profanation of his favourite church of §t. Berlin in the town of St. Omers, that is said to have happened which Victor Vitensis relates lo have happened in the persecution of the Vandals. (Hist. Pers. Van. 31.) “ Introeuntes maximo cum furore, corpus Christ! et sanguinem pavimento sporserunt, et Qlud pollutis pedibus calcayerunt/*

09 THE BEV. ALBAN BUTLER.

xlvii

• XVII.

Our author enjoyed through life a good state of health, but some- what impaired it by intense application to study. Some years before his decease he had a slight stroke of the palsy, which affected his speech. He died on the 15th of May, 1773, in the 63rd year of his age. A decent monument of marble was raised to his memory in the chapel of the English college at St. Omers, with the following inscription upon it, composed by Mr. Bannister

Hie jacet

R. D. Albums Bader (Bonteillier) Praenobilis Anglos.

Sacerdos et Alumna* Collegii Angloram Duaci.

Ibidem S. T. Professor, Postmodom Missionarius in Patria.

Pneses II. Collegii Regii Angloram Aadomari.

Vicarios Generali*

IUustrissimoram Philomelien. Deboren. Atrebaten. Audomaren.

Ex vetustA Ortas prosapiH In utrisque Angliae et Gallia Regain Amptt et Florente.

Suavissimis Moribas,

Sammis acceptissimas, lufimis benign os,

Omnium necessitatibu* inserviens,

* Pro Deo.

Propter Doctrinam et Ingeniom, Doctissimi*,

Propter Pietatem, Bonis omnibus,

Percharus.

Nobilissima Inventutis Institutionem,

Sacramm Virgin am coram,

ReverendLsmmornm Antintitom negotia,

Suscepit, promovit, expedivit,

Opere, Scriptis, Hortatubus.

Sanctorum rebus gestia a Pueritifi inhaerens,

Acta omnia pemoacens,

Men tern et Sapientiam alt£ imbiben*,

Malta scripsit de Sanctorum vitia,

Plena Sanctorum Spiritu, librata judicio, polita stylo,

Summae ubertati* et omnigenae ernditdoni*.

Apostolicae sedis et omui* officii semper observantissimus.

Pie obiit 16 Mensis Maii 1773.

Natus annis 63. Sacerdos 39. Prseses 7.

Hoc mcerena posuit Carolus Butler Monumeutum Pietati* suae in Patruum Amantissimum.

20 JY 63

THE MOVEABLE

FEASTS, FASTS, AND ANNUAL OBSERVANCES

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH,

Cfje jpim

ON THE LORD’S DAY.

CHAP. I.

On the Jewish Sabbath.

Bt a general precept of Religion, — the first and greatest of all moral virtues, — and by a law ingrafted in the heart of man by the Author of Nature, all are bound to keep a weekly festival, by devoting it to tfie Divine service, and employing it in the exercises of piety and religion. The sacred indispensable precept of this festival has been confirmed by the positive law of God, repeated in the most solemn manner, in the Patriarchal or unwritten law before Moses, — in the Mosaic dispensation, and in that of the Gospel. By his special ap- pointment the particular day was determined from the beginning of the world, though He was pleased to change it in the different dis- pensations of his positive law.

The ancient Sabbath was originally set apart by God for the weekly festival, in memory of his resting thereon from the creation of the world. Having in six days formed out of nothing the heavens and the earth, with all things contained in them, 4 He rested on the ‘ seventh day from all his work which he had done. And he blessed * the seventh day, and sanctified it : because in it he had rested from 4 all his work which God created and made.’ (Gen. ii. 2, 3 ; (Heb. iv. 4).) He could have equally finished the universe at once; but was pleased to produce it by a progressive creation, that each part might make a distinct appearance, and the world gradually receive its per- fection. He also showed by this circumstance, that he acted not by necessity, or by any blind impetuous movement of his will; but as he pleased, with perfect liberty and with sovereign wisdom, under-

THE LORD’S DAT.

[Tb. L

standing, and goodness ; master of his action and of his work, having in it no other rule than his own will, essentially the sovereign sanc- tity, goodness, and wisdom. Some interpreters so understand this creation, as to think that each day a particular part was produced out of nothing. Others suppose the whole chaos of matter to have been created at once on the first, and nothing but the development to have been successive, each part subsiding by itself, and separately opening and disengaging itself. The work of each day was single and instantaneous, being effected by the bare commaud, by a single act of God’s omnipotent will. For in God to will with an effective will, is to do, or produce what he wills or commands.51

a Certain modern critics, chiefly among the Calvinists, have attempted to prove that the original or Patriarchal Sabbath was not the seventh, but the first day of the week ; consequently the same day with the Christian weekly festival, winch we call Sunday. Dr. N. Holmes, in 1673, published an essay for this pur- pose, endeavouring to show that Sunday, or the first day of the week, wns the weekly festival kept both by God’s people and by the Gentiles, before the Israel- ites came ont of Egypt, and afteT that time by many Gentile nations. Bp. Patrick, in his commentary, refers to a discourse of Mr. Mede, in which the same is as- serted. The same is attempted with some pains by the author of a book, printed by Richard Chiswpll in 1683, under this title : “ The Doctrine of the Church of England concerning the Lord’s Day vindicated from vulgar Errors, and settled upon the Patriarchal Practice.” Also by the author of “ A Tract of the Sabbath,” printed for Parkhurst, in 1692, p. 42. See also Wright, the learned Presbyterian Divine, on the Religious Observation of tlie Lord’s Day, ch. 2. p. 29. These authors grounded their conjecture on the different institution of the Patriarchal and Jewish Sabbath. The first which was appointed at the creation, (Gen. ii. 3,) celebrated by the Patriarchs down to the written law of Moses, and reinforced by the mouth of that legislator in the first publication of the decalogue, (Exod. xvi. 23-26,) was established by God in memory of, and in thanksgiving lor the creation of the World. The Jewish Sabbath was appointed by God in remembrance of the deliverance of that people out of the land of Egypt, and from the persecution of Pharaoh, (Dent, v.) 1 his reason, however, appear? not to be conclusive, for Rie lattef may be easily understood to have been only a secondary motive for sanctifying the same day, and enforcing the law of rest thereon with greater se- verity, and pertain additional obligations. Greater weight is added to this opi- nion by the arguments which the Rev. John Kennedy has drawn from the sacred chronology in his “ Complete System of Astronomical Chronology for un- folding t^6 Scriptures,” in 4to., London, 1762.

The Israelites, says this author, p. 636, came out of Egypt anno mnndi 2512, Moses being 80 years old ; for be died 40 years after, at the age of 120 years. God in that year changed the beginning of the ecclesiastical year, from the autumnal to the vernal equinox, appointing its commencement from the month Abib (called after the Babylonish captivity Nisan), (Exod. xii. 2). God spoke to Moses to give his commands for the Paschal Lamb, and the Iurodus or Passage out of Egypt, on the first day of this month, (which was the seventh month of the year.) Tfie first day of Nisan that year commenced, says Mr. Kennedy, at the evening of the first day of the Patriarchal week, which we call Monday ; for from that epoch we are to date the commencement of the first Jewish ecclesiasti- cal year, as this author attempts to show by several astronomical calculations, (p. 647.) The Poschffi Lamb was to be taken upon the tenth of the month, whiofi was a Tuesday, and to be slain'on the fourteenth, viz., on Saturday even- ing, at which time began the feast of unleavened bread, which was continued seven days. On the 1 5th the 1 sraelites marched out of Egypt. By this march on the Sunday, the Patriarchal Sabbath of the Sunday was desecrated \ says Mr. Kennedy ; and this fifteenth day which commenced the foregoing evening at sun-set, was the first day of the feast of unleavened bread : the preceding day, the fourteenth of the month (on which the lamb was eat in the evening which closed it), was

THE LORD’S DAY.

Ch. I.]

God, having finished his work, entered into his rest on the seventh day. This we are not to understand as if the supreme workman could be wearied or spent ; which it would be blasphemy to imagine :

called the Passover, or the day itself of the Paschal solemnity ; the seventh day of the unleavened bread was, according to Kennedy, the first Israelitic Sabbath. For the Israelites having passed the Red Sea on the evening which began, (accord- ing to the ecclesiastical style of measuring and counting the day from the pre- ceding to the following evening,) or according to the Patriarchal (and perhaps also the Jewish civil) computation of the day from son-rise to sun-set, preceded the twenty-first day of Nisan, the vernal equinoctial month was kept the first Israelitic Sabbath, with praise and thanksgiving. For this purpose Moses seems to have composed the hymn, (Exod. xv.) which was sung in chorus, apd alter- nately by more perhaps than two millions of people. (See (Lev. xxiii. 5). 6 ; (Exod. xii. 14), 16, 18, 41, and xiii. 10; (Deut. v. 16), and xvi. 1, 3.) It appears that God appointed the new Sabbath soon after the Jews had passed the Red Sea, nerhaps at Marah, where they made a halt (Exod. xv. 22.) Then was the Sab- bath instituted for a perpetual memorial of the deliverance of the people from the army of Pharaoh. (Deut. v. 15.) God enforced obedience to the law of the new Sabbath immediately after this by a double miracle in the manna, (Exod. xvi. 5, 22, 2/,) which happened in the desert of Sin, before the people, in the third month after their passage, arrived at Mount Sinai; nay, before the end of the first month. Yet, says Kennedy, God was pleased to appoint again, certain remem- brancers of the original Sabbath of the creation, for which he instituted a religi- ons convocation and solemnity on the first day of the feast of unleavened bread, which in the first year, or the year of Exodus, fell on the original Sabbath ; hut every year on a different day of the week, according to the changeable course of the moon. (Exod. xii. 16. ; Dent. xvi. 8.) God even republished the original Sabbath from Mount Sinai in the decalogue, (Exod. xx. 11,) though he com- manded also the Israelitic Sabbath in memory of the temporal redemption of the Jews, to be observed with much greater severity than the old Sabbath. (Dent, v. 15.)

Mr. Kennedy in this work, in order to establish his new system of astronomical scriptural chronology, pretended, by blotting many sheets of paper with knotty calculations, to show onr astronomical tables to be grossly erroneous, especially those of the anomalies of the moon : by which attempt he declared war against the whole body of philosophers and astronomers. The ingenious Mr. Ferguson, well known to the learned world by his astronomical lectures, <fec., vindicated these tables, the common cause of his profession, convicted Mr. Kennedy Of many notorious mistakes and false hypotheses, and overthrew the structure which he had raised upon such a foundation. It is,* however, to he wished the controversy had been carried on with less acrimony on both sides. See Fer- guson’s w Remarks on Kennedy’s Astronomical Chronology,” in the Critical Re- view for June, 1763; and his severe letter to Mr. Kennedy in defence of the astronomical tables of the anomalies of the moon, ibid . for November the same year, <fcc. This author, notwithstanding the severity with which he censures the rest of Mr. Kennedy’s book, highly approves his new remarks concerning the Patriarchal Sabbath, adding, that he has demonstrated this to have been the first, not the last day of the week, and consequently the same with onr Sunday, not the Sabbath of the Jews. However, the common opinion still has its advocates, that the Patriarchal Sabbath coincided with the Jewish ; for in Genesis the Patri- archal Sabbath seems fixed on the last day of the week, immediately after the sixth day's work. Again, the Jewish Sabbath is certainly mentioned before the decalogue was given on Mount Sinai ; and after it we find the Sabbath of the creation still in force, as appears from the exposition of Mr. Kennedy’s system ; nor is the least account given of the change of the day of the weekly festival. Neither is it easily to be conceived, that Moses should use the word Sabbath in the same book for different days, without the least open intimation of any such change, which in future ages would soon be forgotten. The change of the com- mencement of the ecclesiastical year from the month Tisri, or the autumnal equinox, to the vernal in the month Nisan, (for some think that the Jews con-

B 2

THE LOBD’S DAY.

[Tb. I.

neither that he then ceased from all action ; but only from that of the creation of the world. He still continually creates souls, performs wonderful mysteries in the order of grace, and acts in and with all creatures or second causes ; for “ in him we live and move, and have our being.” (Acts xvii. 28.)

He maintains and preserves all things by a continuation of the same action by which he created them, (Wisdom xi. 26,) which if he ceased to do, they would all that moment fall into their original nothing. He also is eternally employed in the immanent, t. e. in- dwelling, or interior operations of nis Divine intellect and will, by knowledge, love, and the enjoyment of himself and his own infinite perfection. We must, therefore, necessarily restrain this expression of the Holy Scripture, to a cessation from the production of any new species of creatures. By this work he, as it were, went but of him-

tinued always to date their civil year from autumn,) is recorded by Moses. Much more ought such a change of the Sabbath, a festival twice commended in the de- calogue, and, according to Mr. Kennedy, in a different sense, in the two publi- cations of that law in Exodus and Deuteronomy. The proofs drawn by this author from astronomy, or chronological calculations, cannot amount to demon- stration, unless it could be first clearly settled in what manner the Jews, at that time, regulated their years with respect to embolimean or intercalary days to bring them to an equation. Also, how they settled their lunar months, whether by some cycle or artificial method, or by the observation of the first appearance of every new moon, and in what manner, or with what degree of mcety and exactness. The proofs, therefore, that the Patriarchal, or original Sabbath, was the same day, not with the Jewish Sabbath, but with that of the Christian law, seem too precarious to weaken the tradition in favour of the general opinion of ancient and modern Jews and Christians. The ingenious and learned Mr. Chaise, in his comments on Exodus xvi. ver. 5, and 26, p. 6, 7, 152, 153, 161, shows clearly that Mede founded this argument upon a mistake. On the fif- teenth day of the second month after the passage of the Red Sea, one month after it the murmur was raised for food. The Thalmudists , say this fifteenth day was the Sabbath. (See Maimonides, More. Nev. part iii. c. 20.) If this were true, the Jews, who travelled on that day, did not yet know the law of the Sab- bath. But it is very uncertain that this was the seventh day of the week, count- ing from the creation. Mede mistakes the sense of the fifth verse, as if it means the sixth day from the first falling of manna, whereas it expresses the sixth day of the week, or the eve of the Sabbath. Manna began to fall on the 16th day of Isar, the second month after the passage ; but this may have been a Monday, a Tuesday, a Wednesday, a Thursday, or a Friday. If manna first fell on a Mon- day, the first Sabbath after it was the 21st; if on Friday, as Usher supposes, this Sabbath was on the 17th; therefore the 16th could not be a Sabbath. See M# Hallett’s “ Free and impartial Study of the Holy Scripture recommended,” T. 3, p. 99, <fec. Mr. Chaise observes on v. 22 and 25, i'6., and T. 1, on (Gen. ii. 3), that God instituted the Sabbath to be sanctified from the creation by exercise* of religion, by public exercises of religion ; but without a strict precept of ceasing entirely from all work or travelling, which does not appear to have been ob- served by Abraham in his joumies, nor by the Hebrews in their slavery in Egypt* This very severe rest w as first commanded, (Exod. xvi. 23), and a new motive added in thanksgiving for, and in memory of, their deliverance from Pharaoh. If the institution of the Sabbath had been entirely new, no one would have understood the words of Moses in commanding this rest, <ftc., (Exod. xvi. 23). And the justification is clearly expressed at the creation, (Gen. ii. 3), as is demonstrated by Chaise’s Com. T. I, p. 19, 20, who hence observed, that it was originally sanctified by all nations, as is proved by Josephus, 1. ii. contra Appion ; Eusebius, Prop. Evang. 1. iii. c. 12 ; whence Philo calls it “ The Festival of all Nations,” and in another place, u The Birth-day of the World.”

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Ch. I.]

self and of his eternal rest, to render himself visible in the creation of outward works. When he ceased from this, he re-entered, as it were, into himself and his eternal rest in the contemplation of his own perfections, in which he is invisible to us. In remembrance and in honour of this glorious rest, which he eternally enjoys in himself, in the adorable possession of his infinite happiness, he consecrated the seventh day of the week to his worship, and appointed that it should be to man a day of rest, to be spent in sacrifices and the Divine praise and worship. On it, free from exterior business and labour which dissipate the mind, we are commanded to employ our thoughts on God, to meditate on his law, and on the mysteries of his love and mercy, to thank him for his benefits, and to contemplate that eternal rest to which we are called, and to which all our thoughts and desires ought to be directed. fHeb. iv. 4, 10.) Thus the obli- gation of sanctifying the seventh aay was a precept of the primeval Patriarchal Law, given at the creation of the world, a afterwards

* From (Gen. ii. 3), the Sabbath seems to have been institnted in the beginning of the world. This is positively affirmed by the ancient Jews. ( Philo de opificio mundi , and 1. de vit. Moses ; Josephus 1. 2, contra Appion ; Tert 1. ado. Jud. and 1. adv. Marcion. S. Aug. ep. ad. Casulan , S. Theoph. Antioch, ad Auto- tycum ; LactanU 1. 7, c. 14 ; S. Chrys. Horn. 10, in Gen . i. Nyssen. Serin, de IUsur. dec.) Some Fathers, indeed, and certain modern critics think the precept of the Sabbath was only passed by God into a law by the Jews, when they came into the desert of Sin, in the second month after their coming out of Egypt, on the fifteenth of the month Abib or Nisan, in onr March, in the year of the world 2513. before the vulgar era, 1491. (Exod. xvi. 6Jfcand 25.) But at that time when manna was gathered, the command of the rest of the Sabbath is pre-sup- posed, not then first enjoined. And that it was observed from the creation by all the Patriarchs, is proved by Cornelius a Lapide, Tornellio, <fec. Alsosamongst the Protestant critics by Usher, in his Discourse “ On the Sabbath Gale in his Court of the Gentiles, p. 160 ; Amesiusl. de Origine Sabbati ’, fy de die Domi - nice* against Gomar; Archbishop Sharp, in his Sermons, T. iv. p. 211 ; Zanchius in Quartum Decatogi Praceptum ; our Antiquarian, the Rev. Mr. William Stnkely, in his Abury , a Temple of the Druids described , ch. 12, p. 68 ; John Christ. Heberstreit, Diss.de Sabbato ante legem Mosaicam existente , Lipsidt , 1748 ; John Aug. Ernesti, V indictee Arbitrii Divini in Religione constituenddy part ii. p. 44. The proofs of this assertion are set in their full light by Cherubin a S. Josepho, Appar. Biblici. T. ii. p. 226. That the planetary names of the seven days of the week are ancient among the Greeks and Egyptians, is manifest from an old oracle of Apollo of Delphos, quoted by Eusebius, (de Preepar. 1. 6,) from Clemens of Alexandria, (1. 7, Strom.) cfec. Amongst the Romans, the planetary names of the seven days of the week are certainly older than Christianity, though their original is uncertain. The Roman calendar, called Julius Caesar’s, cer- tainly is not his ; but the work of some Christian, as Petavius (Docf. Temp. 1. 6,) and Scaliger (De Emend . Temp. 1. 4,) show from se^Tal modern barbarous terms there used. The ancient Romans chiefly computed time by the calends, idea, and nones of the months. Cicero uses the word week in a letter to his freed- man, Tiro, (1. 16, ep. 9,) Ne in quartam Hebdomadam incideres ; but he them speaks of a critical term in a distemper. (See Melmoth’s Translation and Note, L 6, ep. 24, T. ii. p. 84.) Among the Greeks and Orientals, the distribution of time by seven days is more frequently mentioned. Porphyry, in his book con- cerning the Jews, quoted by Eusebius, ( Prapar . Evang . 1. 1, c. 9,) tells us that the Phoenicians consecrated one day in seven as holy, in honour of their prin- cipal deity Saturn. We learn from the ancient Scholiast on Pindar, ( Prole g. ad Pytheia) that at Delphos an hymn, called Poean, was sung to Apollo every seventh day. The Athenians did the like every seventh’ day of the moon, whence Hesiod says. The seventh sacred day. EtdSpi) Upbv vpa$. Homer and other

THE LORD’S DAY.

[Tr.1.

confirmed in a particular manner to the Jews in the Mosaic dispensa- tion. (Exod. xvi. 23, 30, and xxiii. 12; (Deut. v. 15).) The Hebrew word Sabbath signifieth rest , and must not be confounded with the word Sabaoth, or rather Zabaoth, hosts or armies ; from which God is called, The Lord of Sabaoth, the God of Armies, i.e. of all the legions of heavenly spirits, and of all nations of men. This festival of the Sabbath is, first, an emblem of the interior rest and infinite felicity which God enjoys within himself ; and secondly, of that glorious rest and everlasting bliss which we shall enter into after the conflicts and labours of this mortal life. Thirdly, it is a cessation from worldly employs and labour, in order to consecrate the powers

heathen writers, often mention a veneration for the third and seventh days. Mr. Stokely finds proofs that the ancient Druids in Britain looked upon the seventh day as holy, doubtless, as he thinks, from the Patriarchal custom and law ; ( loc , oil.) yet some will have no great stress laid on what we find in Homer, Hesiod, and other poets on this head, and think the Sabbath received, indeed, the Divine blessing at the end of the creation of the world, and was then destined to be declared Holy in the Jewish law : but that the particular precept of sanc- tifying it was only given in the Mosaic law, (Exod. xxiii. 12,) because it is called a sign by which the Jews were distinguished from other nations, (Ezech. xx. 20.) But this may be understood of the manner and ceremonies of the Jewish obser- vance, and of the degenerate time of idolatry, in which, among several barbarous Pagan nations, this, with other precepts, may have been almost forgotten. The very words of the law given to the J ews, seem to insinuate that it was the confir- mation of an ancient precept: “ Remember’1 thou keep Holy, (Exod. xx. 8) ; see also (Deut. v. 12). These remarks seem sufficiently to answer the arguments produced by those critics wtttdeny the precept of observing the particular day of the Sabbath holy, to have been prior to the Jewish law, who, nevertheless, allow the Patriarchs to have been bound by the law of Nature to keep holy one indeterminate day in the week. See Gomar, Investigate origin is Sabbati 4* De- fensio Invesiigationis suce contra Rivetum ; Selden, dc Jure Natures ei Gentium , 1. 3, c. 10; Spencer de Legibus Ritual liebraor. 1. 1, c. 4 ; Pererius in Gencsim , 1. 1, p. 179 ; Calmet, Comment, on Gen. ii. and Diet. Bibl. T. ii. Sabbath ; Isaac Casaubon in Suetonii Tiber . c. xxxii. ; John Wallis 7k dc Sabbato, T. iii. op. p. 342, 381, 423, and some modern Jews and critics quoted in Poli Synops. Critic, in (Gen. ii. 3); see also Heylin’s M History of the Sabbath,” part 1, cn. 1, and Archbishop Bramhall’s Works, p. 911. Later Jews improved so much upon the false delicacy of their forefathers in Christ’s time, who scrupled not to take an ox ont of a pit into which he was fallen on a Sabbath, Matt, xii., that they would only allow food to be given the beast in the water till the festival waa over, when they took him out. Nay, a Jew who was fallen into a ditch on the Sabbath, is said by Sixtns Senensis: (who had been himself a Jew before his con- version) and others, to have refused to suffer a Christian, who offered his help, to lift him ont of the mire, saying, Sabbaia nostra colo ; de stercore surgere nolo. When he implored the same Christian's assistance on the Sunday, the latter, to turn his superstitious scruptlHIsity against himself, answered, he should keep the Christian Sabbath in the same place. Sabbata nostra quidem , Solomon , celebrabis ibidem. Some Rabbins have warmly contended that a tailor would be guilty of breaking the Sabbath, who should carry a needle stuck on his sleeve on that day, with many other such trifles. See Lamy, apparatus Biblicus ; Ceremonies de toutes les Retig, Amsterdam, 1723, T. i. ; Buxtorf. Synagoga Judaica, c. 15 ; Codex Thalmudicus de Sabbato , Latine Versus, a Seb. Scbmidio, T* ii. ; Moses Maimonides, Tr. Schabbat. in Jad. Chasaca , 1. 3, c. 1 ; Drusins, de Iribus Sectis Judaorum , p. 94, and 109; Will. Wotton, Observ. in Tract, Talmttd. de Sabbato , Hebr. and Angl. London, 1718 ; Danzius , Diss. de Curatkme Christi Sabbatica , and Vitus Henn.* Hafenmnller; Diss. de Operibus Sabbatum depeUentibus ex mente Hebraorum, J ence, 1708 ; Kirchmeier, Disput, de Sabbatis Judceor. Wittem. 1731 ; Adam Christ. Matthew, De Sabbatis Juaaicis , Norimberg®, 1701; Leo of Modena, Historia Rituum Hebrceorum presents imports , fa

±H* IiOHt)*8 DAT.

Ch. i.j

of oar souls to the holy exercises of that happy state, heavenly con- templation, love, and praise. It was so strictly observed by the Jews that they were forbidden oil it to dress theat, (Exod. xvi. 23, 29,) to travel farther than about a mile, (Calmet on Act. 1, 12,) to buy or sell anything, (2 Esdr. xiii. 15,) &c., but not to repulse an enemy in self- defence, (1 Macc. xi. 41 ?) or to perform in the temple the necessary actions for offering sacrifices, (Matt. xii. 5,) or in necessity to take an ox out of the water. (Matt. xii. 11.) Later Jews have m many places carried their scrupulosity in observing the Sabbath to a more ridiculous superstition than even that of their Pharisaical ancestors when Christ preached among them ; their rashness in censuring his disciples for plucking a few ears of corn on a Sabbath to satisfy their hunger, and in condemning him and ascribing to the devil the divine miracles he wrought, because he restored the sick to health on that festival, he meekly reproved, showing their delicacy to have been tinctured with superstition, and refined pride, and their conduct in- consistent. In the Jewish dispensation the rest commanded on the Sabbath was much more severe and of greater extent than in the Christian law, and still more severe than the law of nature neces* sarily requires, such a discipline being suitable to a dispensation which consisted more in outward rites than the new, and to the gross- ness of a people exceedingly addicted to exterior observances, which hypocrites and carnal Jews carried so far as to neglect the interior, to improve which a just and reasonable practice of such rites was insti- tuted by God; but which those who dwelt in these forms multiplied to superstition. Some of these also falsely placed a pretehded sanctity in their attachment to several superfluous external forms, neither ap- pointed by God nor his church : others adhered in such manner to those that were so appointed as to neglect the reformation of their hearts, »nd the purity and direction of their interior, without which they covild never please God. The zealous censures of our Divine Redeemer show that the excess to which the hypocrisy of the Pha- risees carried this rigour was a vicious scrupulosity and superstition, contrary to right reason, and both to the letter and spirit of the law 5 nor was it in them anything better than an enormous pride, and an affected spiritual blindness. Fpr this severity in certain points which flattered their pride and self-love, they only affected in order to in- dulge a secret self-complacency and fond presumption in themselves, with a contempt of others ; whilst, in the meantime, they freely entertained other capital viees in their hearts. Odious and execrable as this Pharisaical disposition is, it is the case of many among Chris- tians, who are severe to the sins of other men only that their own may pass unsuspected, or whilst they are scrupulous in trifles, appear unconcerned for many things of the greatest moment ; and in their favourite passions can neither see any guilt, nor suffer the least con- trol. Such a one, as our English satirist ingeniously says,

44 Compounds for sins lie is inclined to,

44 By damning those he has no mind to/1

THE LORD’S DAY.

[Tr. I

CHAP. II.

On the Institution of the Lords Day ; or, the Christian Sabbath .

All the Ten Commandments of the Old Law, engraved by the finger of God on the Tables, and given by him to Moses, and the whole nation of the Jews, his chosen people, are but a republication of so many capital precepts of the Law of Nature ; consequently are of all times, and equally bind under all dispensations; and it is agreed among theologiansa that by the Law of Nature itself, a set day which frequently occurs — that is, one day in seven or there- abouts— is necessarily to be consecrated to the Divine Worship, with an interruption of worldly employments and corporal labour.1* Thus the Law of the Sabbath, inasmuch as by it one day a week was commanded to be kept holy, was a precept of the Law of Na- ture ;c yet as prescribed in the Mosaic Law, it was ceremonial both

• St Thomas 2. Secundae, Qu. 22, Art 4, <ftc., ibid.

b St Thomas Aquinas 2. Secundae, Qu. 122. Art 4. And among the Pro- testants, Amesius, Dias, de S&bbato in Prsef. Dr. Clark, in his Sermons, vol. x., p. 69, and in his Exposition of the Catechism, pp. 173, 174. Jephson on the Sabbath, p. 12.

c The Mahometans make Friday their weekly festival, partly from the ancient custom of the Pagan Saracens before the birth of Mahomet, as Selden proves De Diis Syrts , L 2. c. 4, p. 289.) And partly in honour of the flight of their false prophet. (See Thomas Smith de Moribus Turcarum , p. 28.) Reland, Fit. Mahomet is. Pocock, Specimen Histories Arabum , p. 3 1 7. Pearson, on the Apostles’ Creed, p. 472. Hottinger, Primatiee Hedelbergenscs, p. 331 , <fcc.) Pteoran cum ref ut. a Marucc. Patav. 1698.) Constantine the Great commanded Friday to be kept a vacant final day in all courts of judicature, in honour of the death of Christ. (See Euseb. de Vita Constant ini , 1. 4, c. 18. Sozomen, p. 412. Tillemont, Hist, des Emp. p. 693, T. iv.) Friday seems to have been observed in some manner holy from the Apostolic times. See James Godofred, in Cot/. Theodos. T. i. p. 138. Assemani , Bib/. Orient. Vatican, T. i. p. 217. 237.

Martenne Thesanr. Anecdot. T. v. p. 66. Friday is also kept noly by the Czeremises, an idolatrous people subject to the Muscovites, upon toe banks of the Volga, on the borders of Siberia, as we are informed by de Strahlenberg, in his Account of Northern Europe and Asia, or Siberia, (p. 419.) The primitive Christians kept a station on Wednesday, with fasting and public assemblies in prayer. See John Martin Coladen, Dis. de Stationibus veterum , Christian . Limits, 1744. § 18. Bingham, Chr. Antiquit. 1. 21, c. 3, p. 266. Bona, de Ltturg. Ac.

The idolaters about Ormaz and Goa solemnize Monday ; those of Guinea, Tuesday ; many tribes in the territories of the Mogul, Thursday. The Japanese keep no day holy, but the 16th and 28th of every month. See Franc, de la Mothe le Vayer, T. 12. ep. xii, 11, p. 32. The principal Protestant theologians teach with Catholics, that by the law of nature all men are bound to consecrate to the divine service one day out of seven or thereabouts : See Junius, P reelect, in Gen. Curcellaeus, Bel. Christ. Ins (tit. 1. 7), c. 31, § 14, Bp. Babington, “ On the Fourth Command.” Hooker, Eccles. Polities b. v. p. 69, 70, <fcc. They also agree that the determination of the particular day is a ceremonial precept. Some have carried this so far as to leave the determination of the day to parti- cular churches, and even to private persons. Tindal treated this day with such indifference, as to say, in his answer to Sir Thomas More, that we are lords of the Sabbath, and may change it to Monday, or any other day ; or appoint every tenth day, or two days a week. And Barclay says of Calvin, that m honour of Christ’s ascension, he once designed to translate it to Thursday, as an instance of Christian liberty..

THE LORD’S DAY.

Ch.II.]

as to the particular day of the week to which it was affixed among the Jews, and as to some circumstances relating to the particular manner of observing it. After Christ’s resurrection, and the de- scent of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, the festival of the Sabbath was changed from Saturday to Sunday, that is, from the last to the first day of the week. This we only learn from the constant prac- tice and tradition of the church. We find, indeed, in some part of the canonical writings of the Apostles, mention made of the Lord’s Day. St. John was in the isle of Patinos on the Lord’s Day, when the Divine Revelations which he has recorded concerning the state of the churches of Asia in particular, and of the universal church in times to come, were discovered to him. (Rev. i. 10.) And St. Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, (Acts xx. 7,) speaks of the first day of the week, on which the disciples met together to break bread, or celebrate the Holy Eucharist, and on which St. Paul preached till midnight. Also St. Paul ordered charitable collections to be made among the Faithful in their religious assemblies on the first day of the week. (Cor. xvi. 2.) But these passages which mention only in- directly the Lord’s Day, and the first day of the week, as con- secrated to the divine service in the time of the Apostles, no way show that the obligation of the Jewish Sabbath was transferred to that day, nor in what manner we are obliged to observe it, nor even that it is a weekly holiday. All these points we learn from Apostolical tradition, in which even Protestants of all denominations acquiesce. A learned Archbishop of the church of England writes on this point as follows : — “ That the Apostles were not only as judges and ma- “ gist rates in a civil state, entrusted with the execution of the laws “ and institutions of our blessed Saviour ; but had also hereby such “ constant, certain, and even infallible assistance from the Holy “ Ghost, ( who guided them into all truth , (John xvi. 13), taught “ them all things , and brought all things to their remembrance , " whatsoever Christ had said unto them , ch. xiv. 26,) as put them “ beyond all possibility of error, to which even the best magistrates, “ and most learned judges in worldly communities arc subject.”11 Bishop White saith : u It is not necessary to demonstrate out of “ Scripture that the Apostles ordained the Sunday as a weekly “ holiday. For it could not possibly have come to pass, that all “ and every Apostolical church throughout the universal world “ should so early, and in the beginning of their plantation, have con- “ sented together to make the Sunday a weekly festival, unless they “ had been directed thus by their founders, the holy Apostles them- M selves.”5 Archbishop Bramhall makes the same observation, and “ adds : “ He that professeth Christianity, and will ijot be satisfied “ with the perpetual and undoubted tradition of the universal church “ of Christ — «. e. of the whole world of believers, including the “ Apostles themselves — is utterly incapable of any real satisfaction, “ and buildeth his religion more upon his own wilful humour and

• Archbishop Synge’s “ Divine Authority of Church Government/’ p. 26,

5 Bp. White, “On the Sabbath,” p. 192.

THE LORD'S DAY.

• [Tiul.

“ private phantasy than upon true judgment.”* The learned Bishop Taylor, who resolves the authority of the Lord’s Day into mere ecclesiastical institution, affirms : “ that the keeping of this day, be- “ sides all the other reasons derived from the nature of the thing, “ yet even for this alone ; because it is derived from the Apostles, is u to remain so for ever, the reason being at first competent, and the “ same reason remaining for ever, and another cannot come in place “ of it, and a greater there cannot be.”b He farther remarks, that the Apostles were not only directed by the Holy Spirit in matters relating to divine worship and religion ; but also had his immediate authority in their determinations upon such points, as i3 very evident from (Acts xv. 28), where the Apostles, speaking of their decision in the affair of the circumcision, express themselves thus : It seemeth good to the Holy Ghost and to us.

The most ancient of the Fathers, and the immediate successors of the Apostles, mention the Lord’s Day as substituted in the whole Christian church for the Jewish Sabbath. St. Ignatius, the disciple of St. Peter, clearly alludes to it when exhorting the Christians of Magnesia not to be seduced into error as to the observance of the Jewish legal ceremonies, he bids them not to keep the Sabbath of the Jews ; but to lead a life agreeable to the Lord’s Day, on which our life was raised from the dead by him, and through his death.0 Clemens of Alexandria throws a light upon this passage, when ex- plaining what it is to lead a life conformable to the Lord’s Day ; he says, he that observes the precept of the gospel makes his life the Lord’s Day, whilst he casts away every evil thought, and takes to himself the true Gnostic — that is, spiritual and Christian thoughts of wisdom and sanctity, thereby glorifying the resurrection of the Lord.d Hence we learn that the Christians gave the weekly festival the name of the Lord’s Day,® and that to lead a life conformable to the Lord’s Day/ in memory of our Saviour’s resurrection, was suit- ably to t4at mystery by which we are freed from the slavery of sin and the lusts of the flesh, or the old man, to walk in the new life ac- cording to the spirit of Christ, as St. Paul so often exhorts us.g Though they gave this Christian weekly festival the name of the Lord’s Day ; yet they scrupled not, especially when they spoke to the heathens, to call it Sunday : for though that appellation took its rise from an idolatrous superstition, and the worship of the planets, yet it was become the usual name by which this day was known, so that it might be employed as a bare denominative term without respect to any superstition. St. Justin, Martyr, in his Greater Apology, which he delivered to the heathens, calls it Sunday.*1 Tertullian speaks of

a Bramhall’s Works, p. 916. He died Archbishop of Armagh in 1663. b Ductor Ihibitnntium , B. xi. ch. 2, Rule 6, § 61, and B. iii. c. 4, Rule 13, § 1. Bishop Pearson u On the Creed,” p. 469. Lewis Capell, Tr. de Sabbato. Menard, in ep. S. Barnabse, p. 202. c S. Ignat, ep. ad Magnes. p. 9. See Coteliers Note, ib. d Clem. Alex. Strom. 1. 7, p. 877, ed. Oxon. e KvptaKtj . 1 KvpiaKT)v or cvpuun}? jffktpav wouiv,

% Col. iii. I. (Rom. vi. 4). (1 Cor. xv. 22), 49, die,

£ Apol. 2 (nunc, I, ed, Ben.), p, 99,

TtiE LORD’S DAY.

Ch. II.]

it to the idolaters under the same appellation / but when he writes to Christians only, he prefers that of tne Lord’s Day.b Tho Emperors Constantine the Great,0 Valentinian the firstd and second,® and Theodosius the elder and the younger, in the laws which^ they enacted, called it Sunday, though they sometimes add the name of the Lord’s Day. The latter appellation is employed by St. Diony- sius of Corinth/ St. Irenaeus/ St. Melito of Sardis/ Origen/ St. Cyprian, and others.k

Various motives are assigned for changing the Jewish Sabbath into Sunday : The first and principal was in honour of the great mysteries of the resurrection of Christ, and the descent of the Holy Ghost, which happened on a Sunday. By the latter, the new law of grace was pro- mulged ; and by Christ’s resurrection, his victory over sin and hell was completed, and the great work of man’s redemption finished. To praise God for the creation of the world was the primary motive for the deter- mination of the weekly festival on Saturday : which law was more particularly confirmed by God to the Jews, on account of the pro- mulgation which he made to them of the Mosaic law and dispensa- tion, and their deliverance out of Egypt. Now the redemption of mankind, and the reparation of the world by the incarnation, death, and resurrection of the Son of God, was a far greater mystery, and a mercy infinitely brighter. It claims our homages upon a far stricter title than the creation ; nor can the deliverance from the Egyptian bondage bear the least proportion to this immense benefit, the high- est effort, and utmost exertion of divine omnipotence and goodness in favour of a most sinful race of creatures. St. Ignatius, Martyr/ Clemens of Alexandria,™ and other primitive Fathers are vouchers that Sunday is an universal weekly festival among Christians in honour of the glorious mystery of Christ’s resurrection.

“ The first day of the week was consecrated by the greatest gifts “ of divine grace, which on it were conferred upon us,” says St. Leo: “for the principal mysteries which God, in the dispensations u of his mercy, has wrought in our favour, give a lustre to the dig- “ nity of this day. On it the world received a beginning ; on it u death was vanquished, and life began to reign through the resurrec- tion of Christ: on it the Holy Ghost descended upon the Apostles, delivering to us an heavenly rule.”0 A second motive for this change of the Jewish Sabbath was to show, that under the light

* Apologetici, c. xv. <fe 1. 1, ad Nation, c. xiii.

b De Corona, c.iii.De Jejun. c.xv. c Cod. Tbeodos.1.2, c. viii. De Feriis Leg. 1.

d ib. Leg. 2. * Cod. Theodos. 1. 8, de Executoribu* , Leg. 1 and 3, alibi sa?pe.

r Apnd Eus. His. 1. 4, c. 23. * ib. 1. c. 24. b ib. 1. 4, c. 20.

1 Horn. 7, in, Exod. 15, T. 1. p. 82. *

k See Thomafisin, Tr. des Fetes. 1. 2, c. 1, 12, 164.

1 S. Ign. Ep. ad Magnes., d. 9. m CL Alex. Strom. 1. 7, p. 877, Ed.

Oxon. S. Ambros. Serin. 61. See Cotelier, in Ep. S. Barnabae, T. 1. Patr. Apost. p. 47. Mendoza, in Concil. Illiber. T. 1. p. 116, 4. ed. Labbei. Vnlesius ad Euseb. p. 279 ; Conringii Programata Sacra, p. 113; Joan. Gul. Janus, p. 16, ad Eusebii Alexandria! Sermonem insignem de Die Dominico celebrando, quern e Codice Bodleiano et Vaticano, ed. Lipsis, anno 1720.

* S, Leo, Ep. II, aL 81, ad Dioscorum, Alexdr, Episc,

THE LORD’S DAY.

[Te. I.

of the gospel, the figures and shadows of the Old Law are passed away by giving way to the new ; and that 'its typical ceremonial pre- cepts ceased to oblige upon the promulgation of the gospel.*

* The Jewish Law was to be buried with honour, as St. Austin observes. When its typical rites and figures, which represented Christ to come, were completed in his death and resurrection, and in the establishment of his church, they ceased only by being fulfilled, and by the perfecting of all that was in them defective and imperfect. (Matt v. 17.) From this time the Jewish sacrifices lost their efficacy, and the ceremonial rites were no longer of force: they even became immediately superstitious and sinful in those who. having received the gospel, maintained them to be still obligatory by virtue of the old law. Never- theless, without this superstitious error of their necessity and obligation, some of those rites were still occasionally observed by the Apostles and their disciples, not to offend the Jewish converts, and not to give occasion to imagine that they condemned the Mosaic dispensation as evil in itself, as certain heretics did who blasphemously pretended, that it was derived from an evil principle, and was, in its origin, evil. St. Paul himself, though the Apostle of the Gentiles, stre- nuously stood up for the liberty of the gospel against those who endeavoured to infringe upon it, by maintaining the heresy, that there was an obligation of some subjection to the Jewish rites. (Gal. xi. 5.) Yet he often complied with the Jews in many legal observances. (1 Cor. ix. 20 (Acts xvi. 3), xxi. 26.) Hence the Oriental Christians, among whom the Jews were the first converts, still kept the Saturday or Sabbath a kind of weekly festival, on which all the people assembled at public prayer, <fec. (See Corn tit. Apostol. 1. 2, c. 59 ; 1. 5, c. 15 and 20 ; 1. 7, c. 23 ; 1. 8, c. 33 ; Socrates 1. 6i hist. c. 22, 1. 6, c. 8 ; Caspian Instil . 1. 3, c.2 ; 1. 5, c. 26 ; S. Basil Ep. 289 ; Cone. Laodic. c. 16 and 52, <fcc.) Yet the preference was always given in many respects to the Sunday, as the chief weekly festival. (See Bingham, Origines Eccles. vol. ix., 1. 20, ch. 3, sect. 3, p. 60 ; Thomassin Tr. des Fetes. 1. 2, c.2. p. 17.) To op- pose the Ehionites and some other Judaizing heretics who pretended that, the obligation of the ceremonial precepts of the old law had not ceased, the chief pas- tors of the church abated more and more of the Jewish festival of the Sabbath. * The Apostolical Constitutions command rest from manual labour on both Satur- days and Sundays; but the faithful prayed standing only on Sundays, besides several other marks of distinction and of a preference to the latter. And against the Ehionites and Nazareans about the year 363, the Council of Laodicea ex- pressly defines : That Christiana must notjudaize , and refrain from manual labour on Saturday, but v'ork on that day; and that prefeiving the Lord "s Day , they then must rest , if this can be done as becomes Christians (Can. 29). A remnant of this discipline still subsists among the Greeks in their never fasting on a Saturday, even in Lent, except on Easter-eve, the day on which Christ lay in the grave. And on all other Saturdays the faithful assemble at mass. (See Goar in Euchologmm , and Ileineck, Descript. Eccl. Graces Part 3, p. 152, <fcc.) It is not clear whether also the Western church did not at first keep the Sabbath in some degree a festi- val. Albaspinacus makes no doubt but it was so. (Observ. in S. Optat . 1. 1. c. 13.) Tertullian, at least, is our voucher, that in his time neither Catholics nor Montanists in the West ever fasted on Saturdays, except on Easter-eve. (Tert. deJejun. c. 14 and 15.) Some churches in the West, as that of Milan, always excepted Saturdays from the fast, as S. Austin. (Ep. 86, ad Casulanum , and Ep. 118 ad Jannan ,) and others mention. The fast of stations on Wednesdays and Fridays was established in honour of Christ’s passion, which he began on the former, and ended on the latter of these days. At Rome, Saturday was added because Christ on that day lay in the grave ; and very soon the fast of Wednes- day was removed to the Saturday, though in certain churches, for some time, all three days were kept as weekly fasts of the stations, as appears from Bede, as to England. The church of Alexandria and all Egypt conformed to* the Roman custom in not keeping the Saturday a festival, as Socrates attests, ( Hist . 1. 5, c. 21). And S. Epiphanius says, that the repose of the Sabbath is no longer kept since the death of Christ, who is our rest and Sabbath, ( Hot. 66), This father

Ch. lit]

THE LORD^ DAT* *

CHAP. III.

. Motives for keeping the Lord's Day.

It is the first and most indispensable duty of every creature that is endowed with reason and free-will, and consequently capable of know- ing and loving God, and conscious that he owes to him all that he is or possesses, to pay to him a rational homage as to the God of infinite Majesty, his Creator, sovereign Lord, most gracious Benefactor, and last End. Though this homage is a daily, yea a continual debt, man is bound to set apart certain days, as one in seven, in which he lays aside all distracting temporal employments, and disengages himself as much as this mortal state will permit, from all hindrances, in order to give his whole attention to this first and most indispensable duty. God’s supreme excellence and infinite perfections claim this acknowledgment of his sovereignty by our most profound homages. The particular relations in which we stand to Him infinitely enhance this duty, and bind it upon us by innumerable titles and the strongest ties. If we owe duty to a parent, gratitude to a benefactor, homage to a king, how much more are we bound to worship God, the supreme Parent, Creator, and Lord of all things, of whom every moment we hold our life, to whom we stand indebted for all we possess in the order of nature, and for the incomprehensible advantages of grace, and from whom we expect all those which are to come? To allow that we are made by him, and depend continually upon him, and at the same time to pretend that we are not bound to testify this depen- dence, and acknowledge his sovereignty by a suitable homage, would be a plain contradiction ;a as all who confess a God, even they who most inconsistently deny any revealed religion, are obliged to con- fess.5 For so great and solemn a duty set times must be allotted. Secondly, this is again necessary, that we may give due attention to the concerns of our souls, may procure all necessary helps, and make provision of all proper remedies for our spiritual necessities. Our

observes, (Epitom. T. 1, p. 1107,) that where it was kept a festival (in the Oriental churches), this was done not out of J udaism ; but to worship the Lord of the Sab- bath, and in honour of the creation, as Sunday is sanctified particularly in honour of Christ’s resurrection. The same remark had been made more at large by S. Athanasius. Mardon established an obligation of fasting on the Sabbath, upon on impious heretical principle of opposition to the God of the Jews, whom he pretended to be an evil principle, as S. Epiphanius mentions. (Har. xlii. n. 3.) In abhorrence of this blasphemy, the church then forbade any one to fast on a Saturday (except on Easter-eve) or on a Sunday. (Can. Apost. 64, alias 66.) It is not, however, forbidden to fast on a Sunday, provided it be not done out of singularity or some superstitious motive ; nor even if a person who should fast every day upon prudent motives of virtue, should include also the Sunday, though the contrary is in general advisable in honour of ,the feast. (See Lugo, Bonacina, <fcc. dc Je junto ). ' .

* 44 Dependency in a creature, without some mark or manifestation of such a state, is utterly unintelligible, or to speak more properly, a contradiction ; because it is to that creature to all intents and purposes a state of independency.” Reve* lotion examined with Candour, vol. i. p. 89.

b Matthew Tindal, Christianity as old as the Creation, p. 116. ^ Hobb’s Levia- than, ch. xxxi. p. 192. And Lord Shaftesbury on the Characteristics, <kc.

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[Tr. I.

sanctification and salvation is our main, nay, our only affair, and re- quires our constant and most diligent care, from its infinite im- portance, from the great dangers to which it is continually ex- posed, from the precept of Christ, and the end of our creation, re- demption, and all the mysteries of the divine mercy in our favour. If a proper time is to be given to every function and business which con- cerns us, as to all our temporal affairs, our corporal refreshment, &c., this is due in the first place to our souls. Therefore, by the law of na- ture, and the duty which we owe both to God and ourselves, we are obliged, as St. Thomas Aquinas demonstrates,* to consecrate set days to the service of God, and to the exercises of religion. We indeed every day give some time with serious attention to religious ex- ercises, and to the making a tender of the spiritual homage of our affections to God. But to satisfy these great duties, it is moreover necessary to dedicate to them certain festivals, on which, freed from the distractions of worldly affairs, we may devote ourselves wholly to them. If God has reserved to himself part of our estates, can we refuse him this without sacrilege ? He has a just claim to all our time, and to all that we are or have. But he allows us to give six days in the week to our temporal concerns, so as even yet in them to have him, his honour, and his will, solely in view : only he reserves the seventh day entirely to himself. Alas ! so weak has faith now be- come in the hearts of the generality of the faithful, that they seem to live almost in a total oblivion of their God, and all his wonderful mysteries and mercies. Far from making these the only object of their thoughts and desires at all times, even in the midst of their labour aud employments, as they ought to do with the saints, they give them their attention only by halves, even on those days whicn are particularly consecrated to the exercises of religion, and the wrork of their sanctification. Their minds are so full of their temporal concerns, of their pleasures and diversions, and of the means of gra- tifying their passions, that by the dissipations in which they live, even on the festivals of our holy religion, they make these sacred solemnities themselves, on which the greatest treasures of heaven are open to them, and which are the favourable times for obtaining the divine mercy, and the times appointed by God for us to pay him our most fervent and best homages, days of irreligion, profaneness, and sin. Those who abuse the very times of mercy and grace, who de- stroy the very means of sanctification which religion affords them, and trample under foot its most holy precepts, stand condemned by that religion which was given to save them. The necessity and ad- vantages of this holy law and institution of the Sabbath arise not only from the private, but also from the public duties of religion. Hence a third motive for the institution and keeping of the Lord’s Day is drawn from the obligation of public prayer. Man lies under various obligations, both in his private capacity, as he is a particular person or individual, and in a public capacity, as he is a member of the commonwealth of mankind. It is not enough to praise God in

• S. Tho. 2. 2da 2d« qu. xxii. art. 4.

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THE LORD’S DAT.

private ; we are bound frequently to offer him a public homage This we owe to him both inasmuch as it is more honourable to his divine Majesty, most advantageous to our neighbour, who is edified, strengthened, or excited by it to fervour and devotion, and most pro- fitable to ourselves, to whom it most powerfully procures the abundant succours of grace. Even deists acknowledge the duty of public prayer.* It is, therefore, necessary that some time and place be de- termined for this purpose, that all men might meet together, as with one heart and otie mind, so in one time and place to glorify God. It is therefore an eternal and unalterable law, that at least one day out of seven be appointed for the regular and perpetual performance of this duty. Hence the divine wisdom has separated one day in every week for his worship and service, through all the ages of the world. That frequent stated times are required for this obligation is an evi- dent obligation of the law of nature *,b and the particular measure of time necessarily to be appropriated to this end, is gathered from the divine determination of one day in every week. The same divine precept and determination of this day, sets before our eyes other particular pressing reasons. For, fourthly, we are bound to keep this day with great devotion upon the parti- cular motives upon which the determination of the seventh, and afterwards of the first day of the week for this regular festival, is founded. The first of these is, to thank and praise God for the great work of the creation of the world, and for all the merciful dispensations of his providence in its continual conservation. In the beginning, before all time, and from all eternity, God alone existed unchange- able by himself, and out of him was nothing. Infinite^ happy within himself, and in the contemplation and enjoyment of himself and his own boundless perfections, he stood no way in need of crea- tures ; neither could he receive from them the least accession to his bliss. But being almighty and infinitely good, to manifest his own power and liberality, and to impart to creatures measures of happiness and perfection, He out of nothing produced all things that are, by the single act of bis omnipotent will. He created matter in a chaos or confused fluidity : then, by his spirit moving over it, He brought it into order and beauty, producing on the first daylight, which during so many thousand years has never failed in its season : on the second day, the firmament or the region of the air, and the space which divides the celestial and terrestrial world : on the third, the vast ocean, which, though its billows rage, and beat the shores with such

* w Reason directeth not only to worship God in secret, but also, and espe- 44 cially, in public, and in the sight of men ; for without that (which in honour 44 is most acceptable) the procuring others to honour him is lost.” Hobb’s Le- viathan, ch. xxxi. p. 192.

“ As to matters relating to the worship of God, it is the voice of nature, that 44 God should be publicly worshipped, and that men should do this in the most “ convenient way, by appointing among themselves tim^, place, persons, and 44 all other things which require special determination .” TindaTs 44 Christianity as old as the Creation,” p. 116. See also Machiavel's Discourses on Livy, 1. 1, c. 11.

b See PuflfendorPs 44 Law of Nature and Nations,” b. ii. ch. 4 ; Berbeyrac, ib. ; Woolaston's M Religion of Nature Delineated,” p. 124.

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[Tb. I.

violence, has ever since known its appointed bounds, and observed (rod’s omnipotent mandate : at the same time, He gave birth to the earth, with grass and trees yielding fruit and seed till time shall be no more : on the fourth day, the amazingly glorious orbs of the sun and moon, with the beauteous canopy of the stars, spread in the firmament : on the fifth day, fowl that fly, and fishes that swim in the waters: on the sixth day, beasts and reptiles on the earth: and lastly, man to his own image and after nis own likeness. Thus he created heaven and earth, all things spiritual and corporeal, visible and invisible. God spoke and they were made; He com- manded9 and they were created (Ps. cxlviii. 5); and each object stood forth, and was ranged in its proper place ; the myriads of bright angels, light, and all other beings that exist, with man, lord of this inferior world and the numberless tribes of its inhabi- tants. All the creation out of nothing, were it of the least atom, is an exertion of infinite power, transcending infinitely the faculties of all exalted beings, which can never exert their action, but on some pre-existent subject.

It is only in the power or will of omnipotence, that nothing itself is fruitful. And in how wonderful a manner are the Creator’s infinite wisdom, goodness, and power, with all his other attributes, displayed in the vast orbs placed ill the heavens, in the regularity of tneir motions, in the beauty, symmetry, and administration of the whole universe, and every the least part ? After each portion of his work, and again after the whole was completed, he took a survey, and saw it was good, or suitable in all respects to the great ends he proposed to himself, and by his divine complacency in his work he approved it as such. “ The rising stars,” that is, all the legions of bright heavenly spirits, by their adoration and praises, instantly celebrated his glory, both in his own adorable greatness, and shining forth in his works, (Job xxxviii. 7,) a tribute which they never interrupt to eternity. Man was called upon to make the like tender of his homage, and our first parents paid it in rapturous strains of thanksgiving, love, and adoration/ God was pleased, in memory of this display of his infinite mercy and magnificent glory in the creation, to sanctify and consecrate to rest from corporal labour and to his service the seventh day, on which he ceased from this work, and re-entered, as it were, into the contemplation of himself. Therefore, on this weekly festival it is our duty5 in our devotions to offer him a tribute of

* Some Jewish Rabbins imagined the 92nd (Hebr. 93rd) psalm, to have been composed by Adam to praise God upon the creation. This is affirmed in an an- cient Chaldaic paraphrase, under the name of Jonathan, on the first chapter of the Book of Canticles. And this title was anciently prefixed to this 92nd psalm : 44 A song which Adam recited on the seventh day,” or, as Lightfoot saith, 44 Which Adam made for the Sabbath.” It is a song of praise.on that account ; but was more probably compiled by David, or, as Bede thinks, by the Jews re- turning from the captivity of Babylon.

b All zealous servants of God have made it a particular part of their devotion often to adore and praise his infinite power, goodness, and wisdom, manifested in all the works of his Holy Providence. 44 The heavens show forth the glory of 44 God, and the firmament declareth the work of his hands.’' Ps. xviii. (Hebr. xix.) v. 1, <fec. See Ps. cxliv. (Hebr. cxlv.) 15, 16 ; cxlvi. (Hebr. cxlvii.) 8, 9.

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adoration, praise, oblation, thanksgiving, and love, in acknowledgment of his sovereign majesty and goodness, and of his munificence and bounty towards us and all his creatures in the production of all things ; and in all the effects of his holy providence through every age, and in every moment of our existence. This acknowledgment we daily make him, at least in the morning and evening sacrifice of our prayers ; but the weekly festival is set apart for the more perfect performance of the duty, on which all men jointly with the heavenly spirits and the whole creation, may, in one chorus, celebrate together the divine praises. How great and cogent soever this motive be, another far more exalted, and still of a much higher order, is drawn from the re- surrection of Christ, which put a glorious end to his labours and suf- ferings, and was, as it were, the seal of the master-piece of the most astonishing of all God’s works — the redemption of man by the mystery of the incarnation of the Son of God. The most constant, and the utmost homage we are capable of paying the divine Majesty, bears no proportion to what is due on account of any one of his attributes and perfections ; or in return for the least among the numberless benefits he has conferred upon us. But the incarnation of his Son for our redemption, so far transcends all his other works and mysteries, and all his former benefits to us, that the apostles changed the weekly festival of the Sabbath into the Sunday, to put us in mind that this mystery must be the principal object of our thanksgiving and praise. Christ in his resurrection raised the lost world by the reparation of men, whom he translated from spiritual death into immortal life, and presented to his father as a glorious conquest to honour him and fill the vacant seats of heaven. We are, therefore, bound to give glory to God as the author of our spiritual and immortal life, and of a new, better, and more glorious world which he has again created, not in- deed out of nothing, but out of a sinful reprobate mass ; and this wonderful work he has wrought by the almighty power of his arm, in the effort of his boundless mercies. The angels praise him in view of this mystery with new eternal hymns of adoration and thanksgiv- ing (Hebr. i. 6, &c.) How then are we, who are the objects of this prodigy of infinite mercy, bound by our best acknowledgments and homages to glorify in it the great and gracious Author? This is a continual duty ; but especially on the Lord’s Day. God com- manded the Jews to sanctify the Sabbath, not only in honour of his divine rest after creating the world, (Exod. xx. 11,) but also upon

Ps. cxlvii. Ps. viiL 3, Ac. It is impossible for any religions souls to consider the least single part of God’s wonderful works, without being stirred up to adore him in raptures of amazement, love, and gratitude. A devout person sitting one day noon a hill above a gentle stream, was so ravished and transported in contem- plating the beauty, glory, sweetness, and love displayed by God before his eyes, in the heavens, flowery fields, beasts, birds, and purling streams of water which he beheld, that he often declared, he had never been so much moved by any sermon or pious meditation in his whole life. We may read, on the wonderful works of God in the creation, the sermons of S. Basil, and S. Ambrose on the Hexaemrron^ or work of six days : Dn Guet’s Outrage de six Jours . Ray’s “ Wisdom of God in the Creation;” Derham’s u Physico-Theology and Astro-Theology u The Religions Philosopher,” by Nieuwentit, Ac,

*a* taw* »Af.

Ih6 netv title of the Special mercy by which he had delivered them from the Egyptian slavery and its toilsome labour, (Deut. v. 15 (Exod. xxxi. 13),) a faint type of the slavery of sin. He enjoihed this law that a lively remeihbrance might be impressed on the minds of men, that he is their lord, their deliverer, their sanctifier, and legislator. In the new law we celebrate on the Lord's Day, above these other titles, our deliverance from the dreadful sentence of eternal reprobation, and from the tyranny of the devil and hell ; and gratefully commemorate the promulgation of the law of grace, made on the nfst day of the week, on Whitsunday ; a law to which we stand indebted for all the infinite spiritual advantages of which, through the diviiie mercy, we are possessed, or which we hope for ; a law of which the Mosaic dispensation, with all its privileges, was only a shadow. A fourth motive for the celebration of this festival is strongly inculcated both in the Old and Ne\V TestAtnent; that as it is A memorial of the rest into which God entered, after finishing the creation of the world, and of that of Christ after his passion, sd it is also a figure or emblem of that of all the blessed iti the heavenly Jerusa- lem to which we hasten. By that rest, God, raised, as it were, above creatures and separated from them, (which be yet conserved and governed,) dwells in himself from eternity to eternity, in con- templation, love, and holy complacency ; ahd Christ in his humanity no more subject to pain, toil, and the weakness of his mortal state, enjoys a life perfectly heavenly. We imitate this holy rest of God and Christ on festivals, which We devote to conversing iti heaven, as St. Austin observes.*1 This, in like manner, is in some degree an imitation and foretaste of the rest or Sabbath of the blessed in the kingdom of eternal glory. Of this St. Paul says, God “ ill A certain place u spoke of the seventh day thus : And God on the seventh day rested “ from all his works \ and in this place again, If they shall enter into “ my rest. (Hebr. iv. 4, 5.) There remaineth therefore a Sabbath or “ rest for the people of God.” (Hebr. iv. 9.) The life Of the Saints in heaVett Is Unchangeable and immortal, as is that of God, and theit* rest is wonderful ; not a rest of sloth and inaction, but of perfect en- joyment, incessant sublime action and fervour. This being to be our immortal state, and this life a preparation to it, festivals are set apart for a kind of noviciate and anticipation of its functions, and for fer- vently aspiring \o that bliss. The motives hitherto mentioned belong in part to a seat for the divine honour, which ought to be more preva- lent with us than any others, if our hearts are so warmed wdth any degree of true love of God, which teaches us to prefer him before all things. Yet our duty to God, and the charity which we owe to our- selves, oblige us also to be sensible to the essential interest of our own souls. The spiritual advantages which accrue from a devout celebration of the Sunday, furnish a fifth motive. 1st, This pious and religious observance is a most powerful and necessary means for keeping up a sense of God and religion in our souls. If we look into the World we shall easily perceive that the extreme insensibility

* S. Aug. ep. 55, ad Januar.

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of the generality of mankind in their spiritual concerns, arises from a love of the world, by which they seem wholly buried in, and Intent upon the cares and business, or the diversions and pleasures of this life. Now the remedy for this evil is a constant attendance on the spiritual exercises of religion, and assiduous meditation on the life to come. This the sanctification of the festivals contributes to, even in those who find themselves most engaged in the world* It is not a bare belief of the great truths of the gospel, which makes meh truly religious, of reforms the vicious. Only devout reflection on them can revive a sense of God, and of future rewards and punishments. On this account, even infidels have proved the absolute necessity of appointing public festivals for the safety of the commonwealth.* 2ndly, Public instruction is most conducive to the public peace, by teaching every man his duty to God, his neighbour, and himself, and by keeping up a spirit of religion in the world.b Hence an emi- nent statesman and writer on civil polity observes:0 that, “if “ keeping holy the seventh day were only an human institution, ii “ would nave been the best method that could have been thought of “ for polishing and civilizing of mankind.” 3rdly, Every exercise of an interior life and of virtue, every means of securing our salvation, is provided for by festivals, which afford time to give them full attention, and a glorious opportunity of holy retirement after the public office of the day, to look into our own heart, and rectify what- ever is there amiss ; and to contemplate the infinite goodness of God, the love of our divine Redeemer, and other heavenly mysteries, an exercise most powerful to reform the affections of our hearts, and so sweet that the greatest pleasures of sense can never be compared vrith it. Moreover, how acceptable and how honourable to God, how powerful in obtaining his mercy and all favours, must be the joint sacrifices and homages of thanksgiving, praise, and love, the fervent supplications, the alms, and all other good works of all hi? servants on earth, of the whole church militant, united with the triumphant in her holy fervour, by which the earth on this day is in some measure changed into heaven, and united with it ? But what need of displaying all these motives, since God has commanded us to observe this festival in terms which express the singular importance of this precept, which he has enforced under the severest threats and punishments ? “ Remember thou keep holy the Sabbath day,” says

he. (Exod. xx. 8.) Not content with laying a simple injunction as in the other commandments, “ Thou shalt not adore false gods ;” “ thou shalt not kill,” &c., he awakes our constant attention by charg- ing us always to remember this holy ordinance as we tender his divine honour. If we are tempted to neglect this duty by the dangerous seduction of false friends, by the example of the world, by our own sloth, avarice, or the love of pleasure, let us call to mind, and oppose to all obstacles this eniphatical word : “ Remember. Six days,” says our divine legislator, “ shalt thou labour and do* all thy

* Hobbes’s. Eeviathsa, eh. 12.

b Sep prideajnx’p Connexion, veL ij. p. 561, ad. an. ante Chr. 444. c Addison, Spectator, No. 112.

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[Tb. I.

work.” Indeed, as all times and moments are holy and belong to God, so are they to be consecrated to him. “ He made the day and “ the night, light and darkness, all times and seasons.” (Ps. lxxiii. 16.) For this he commanded a morning and evening sacrifice to be offered to him every day. (Ps. lxxiii. 16.) And all our moments, and all our actions, even in our ordinary employs, ought to be sanctified and made perfect sacrifices by the most pure and fervent intention of doing in them God’s holy will, and accompanying them with the ex- ercise of humility, meekness, patience, devotion, divine and fraternal love, and all other virtues as opportunities call them forth. All days are good, and blessed by God, as were all his works : but by a special blessing he gave a particular consecration to the seventh day, by which he made it more honourable and more holy than the other days, which he confirmed by his own rest, and by commanding his people to rest upon it in devotional exercises of their hearts in honour of nis holy rest, in the enjoyment of his own adorable perfections. To neglect the sanctification of this day is to trample upon the most solemn precept of God, inviolable through all ages; to refuse to employ the most necessary means of sanctifying our own souls, and the most essential honour we owe to God. Our whole life ought to be an uninterrupted homage of praise to God, and an imitation, or a novitiate, or beginning of the life of the blessed in heaven. How inexcusable then, are we if we refuse to give to God this seventh part of our time, which he so severely reserves to himself, and of which he is infinitely jealous, even as he tenders his own honour in a most delicate point ? Of this we have the most terrible instances in the threats of his vengeance, and in the severe judgment he passed upon the sabbath- breaker.

Soon after the law had been promulgated by Moses, whilst the Jews were in the desert in their passage out of Egypt into the pro- mised land, a poor man was found gathering a few sticks on the Sabbath. He was brought before Moses, and that great legislator of 'God’s people would not presume to pronounce himself on the crime ; but in his character of prophet, together with his brother Aaron the high priest, consulted God upon the case. Almighty God com- manded that the criminal should be stoned to death by all the peo- ple ; and in pursuance of this sentence he was led out of the camp to the place where he had been taken in the fact, and the whole multitude made it a duty to show their zeal for the honour of God and the sanctity of his festival by becoming his executioners.(Exod.xxxi. 14.) A great heap of stones under which he. was soon buried, remained a standing monument of God’s just anger against his sin, and a warn- ing to others never to profane his holy festival. Of this law God has pronounced : “ Whosoever shall have broke it, let him die.” (Exod. xxxi. 14.) And again, “ Let that man die. Let all the mul- “ titude stone him out of the camp. He was rebellious against the “ Lord : he hath made void His precepts.” (Numb. xv. 31, 35.) How ought this example and threat make us tremble, and strike us with an awful respect for the sanctity of this day ! If the poor man who transgressed this precept in so small a matter, in which many

THE LORD’S DAT.

Chap. III.J

circumstances seem to have extenuated his fault, was punished with such severity ; what treatment must we expect if his example, and much greater lights and experience, do not deter us from a like, or perhaps a more impious profanation of the Lord’s Day ? When we consider the rigorous sentence passed by God upon the first sabbath- breaker, we cannot be surprised that N ehemias showed so much zeal in reforming abuses against this precept, and that he caused the gates of Jerusalem to be shut, on the Sabbath, to hinder the Jews and especially pagan Tyrians from bringing in wine, figs, or other burthens, and from selling fish or any wares on the Sabbath ; (2 Esd. xiii. 15, 22,) saying to the people : u What is this evil thing which you are doing, pro- “ failing the Sabbath-day ? Did not our fathers do these things, and u our God brought all this evil upon us, and upon this city ? And “ you bring more wrath upon Israel by violating the Sabbath.” Amongst Christians many have been overtaken by visible judgments for this crime, of which many examples are related by several coun- cils and authentic historians/ The fathers of the Sixth Council of Paris, in the year 829, after expounding that all country business, bargains, and the like, are forbidden on Sundays, by doing which the light of Christianity is darkened, and an occasion of scandal given to those who blaspheme the name of Christ, say: “ Many of us have “ ourselves seen, others have heard of persons killed with thunder M whilst they followed their husbandry on these days; some have “ been punished with a sudden contraction of their nerves, and some “ have been struck dead by visible fire, arid their bodies and very “ bones consumed in a moment, and reduced to ashes : and many “ other terrible chastisements have been, and still are inflicted for “ this crime.”6 But the most ordinary judgments with which God punishes it are invisible, and of all others the most terrible, by which he abandons such sinners to. a spiritual blindness and hardness of heart, and delivers them over to a reprobate sense.

Some churches formerly dated the beginning of the precept of keep- ing Sundays and holidays from the foregoing evening, and some from the first vespers ; and some ended on Sunday evening, others not till Monday morning. The Council of Compieghe held under Gregory IV. in 833, declares,* “ That we decree that all Sundays be cele- “ brated with the most religious veneration from the foregoing even- “ ing to the evening of the day, and that all servile work be laid “ aside.”® Pope Alexander III/ orders the customs of places to be kept in this respect. Hence, as Gonzales observes,® over all Europe the obligation of all Sundays and holidays, long since, both begins and ends at midnight. And the same rule is followed also on fasting days/

* S. Gregory of Tours, 1. x. Hist. Franc, c. 30, and 1, i. de Glor. Mart c. 16* 1. ii. ib. c. 11. A Council of Scotland, and Roger Hoveden on the year 1201.

b Ibid. c See Thomassin De Festis , 1. Hi. c. 6. d Alex. III. Can. 2. De Festis , 1. iii. c. 6. * Gonzales in Cap. Omnes. Littera {De Feriis).

fThe Romans before Christianity, as appears by their civil law, began and ended their Feriet, or festivals, at midnight, (rf. De Feriis, 1. ii. tit. 12, c. 8. More,) which was followed by the Greek empire. See the Basilican, 1. vii. tit 17. De dielms FerkUis leg . 8. The Franks extended the Lord’s .Day, from evening to

fHl le’f P4f-

[T*I.

Out tatoastors, tha English S*xoofe carried the obligation of the Sunday* from Saturday evening at sun-set to bed time qq Sunday night, as is declared in the constitution of King Withted and the Council of Bergh&mated in Spelman.* King Edgar, about tbe year 967* extended it from three qf the clock on Saturday afternoon, to break of day on Monday.5 This is repeated in the laws of Canutus,c and again in those pf King Edward the Confessor, confirmed by the Conqueror $ during which interval of time no Christian could be molested going to church or returning thence, or travelling to the dedication of a church or any public chapter. Soon after the com- ing in of the Normans, was introduced the Homan custom of count- ing tbe day from midnight to midnight.

CHAP. IV.

On the manner in which we are commanded to keep the Sunday , by resting from servile work .

The precept for keeping Sunday is in part affirmative, by command- ing certain works to be done ; and in part negative, by forbidding others.

It forbids all servile work, or that in which servants or handicrafts- men are usually employed. Such the Councils always reckon in the first place of all work of husbandry and of handicrafts.11 Nor does it matter whether it be done for hire or for recreation * for the inten- tion, or end no way changes the nature of the work. Liberal em- ployments, which belong to the liberal arts, or are usually reserved to the gentry, or persons of a liberal education, fall not under this pro- hibition ; as reading, writing, studying, consulting lawyers, giving advice, playing on the organs, See. In the same class are common employments, whieh equally belong to gentry and persons of a servile condition, as fishing without nets, taking a moderate walk, or travel- ling a little way without loaded baggage, &c. S. Antonius, Natalis, Alexander, and Collet do not think it allowable . for persons to make long journies on Sundays, unless upon motives of piety or some degree of necessity. And divines unanimously condemn, as a breach of the feist, all travelling with loaded horses, coaches, or waggons, unless necessity excuse it, as when such carriages cannot stop on the road without considerable inbonvenience or loss ; or if when something of necessity for the pooT cannot be done for charity at any other time, and it appears allowed by the custom of the place, or openly authorized by the bishops. Hunting on festivals is also

evening, as was declared under Charlemagne in 794. Capitular . 19. ed. Baluz. T. i.pp. 267, 707, and 955. Capitular . 15. 1. 1, and Capitular. 18. 1. 6. The Jews counted their day of atonement, ( Levit . xxii. 32) their Sabbaths, and other festi- vals from evening to evening. And the first appearance of the stars they called evening. (See Selden de Jure Natures et Gentium , 1. iii. c.. ll,p. 343.)

* Cone. Anglise, T. i. p. 195. b Leges Edgari, c. 6.

« Cone. Angl. Spelman sive Wilkins, T. i. 1. 14.

d S. Tho. Aqainas in 3 Diet. 37. q. 1.' Natal, Alexander, Theek Dogm . p. 600. Sanrex. de Relig. L ii. c. 19, p. 208, dec.

Ch. IV.] LOBJ)^ DJLXf S3

forbidden by the Councils of Meaux, in 84 5f and Tours, in 1673* Cer- tainly it can neve? be allowed unless it be for a short time towards evening, after all the office of the day is over, near home, and with-* out noisy dogs, nets, attendance, company, or danger of scandal. Drawing designs on Sundays is deemed lawfiil ; but not painting, be- cause it is employed to produce a natural external image or resent* blance of an object, though it be a liberal art# Much less Is the Com- position of letters, or any other part of the work of printing allowed. All weaving, or working with a needle, is servile, and so it is defined by the Councils of Meaux, in 845, Aixda-Chapelle, &c.

Four kinds of the common, or mixed liberal employments, are par- ticularly forbidden on festivals by the civil and canon law* 1st, Markets and bargains ; consequently all buying and selling, except for neces- sity or in trifling matter?.* And m$ny Councils command all taverns, ale-houses, and eating-houses to be shut up on Sundays, during the hours pf divine office/* Secondly, all actions of law courts are forbidden and invalid on Sundays,0 except in cases where mercy, charity, o? the necessities of the public good are concerned, as apprehending robbers, emancipation of slaves, &c. The bishops and lay judges were commanded by a law of Honoriusd to visit the prisoners every Lord’s Day, or have them brought before them to examine whether the keepers treated them with humanity : so far were offices of eha* rity from entrenching upon the rest of the festivals. Thirdly, aH proceedings of law in capital causes are forbidden in a particular manner. Fourthly, all public oaths ; or oaths to confirm any contract, even out of a court of judicatory.* The Second Council of Macon, in the first canon, enforces these laws under the severest penalties! 44 Let no 44 one on this day prosecute a law suit, no lawyer plead any causes, no 44 one put himself under a necessity of yoking his oxen : but be ye all 44 intent and ready, both in body and mind, to sing hymns and praises 44 to God. If any one contemn this admonition, he shall be punished 44 according to the quality of the offence. If he be a lawyer, he shall 44 lose his privilege of pleading ; if he be a countryman or slave, be 44 shall be severely beaten with rods.” Constantine the Great first ordained that no courts of judicature should be opened on Sundays, nor any suits or trials at law ; though for works of mercy and necessity he made allowance. This prince had no sooner embraced the Christian religion, but be commanded the Lord’s Day to be observed by all persons whatever as a festival and day of rest. And because there were many heathens in his army, he commanded them upon the Lord’s Day to go out into the fields, and pray to the true God ; for which purpose he drew up a short form of prayer, which he or- dered them to use, in which no mention is made of Christ. It is re-

* Cap. 1 de FeriU, the Third Council of Tours, in the reign of Chariemagno»

Ae. * See Natal. Alexander, Reg. i. p. 561.

t Cap. nit. de Ferity and Lulm die and de FeriU . And the laws of Constaa. fine and his successors on this subject in Bingham, b. xx. | ii. p. 18.

4 Cod. Theod. lib. ix. Tit. 3, de Cuetodia Reerum, Leg. vii.

• See Oonaalea in Tit. de FeriUy T. ii. p. 168,

THE LORD’S DAT.

[Tb.1.

corded by Eusebius in his fourth book of the Life of Constantine.* A lesson to all masters of servants, even if any have not been baptized ; they are still bound by exercises of devotion, to adore the Creator of

a Disney, in his 44 View of Ancient Laws against Immorality," in folio, ann. 1739, gives ns a collection of those which, regard the profanation of the Lord’s Day ; Tit A., p. 233 to 252. The same are given still more at length in several other authors. Worldly business or labour on the Sabbath was in the Jewish law punished with death, by God’s express oommand. (Exod. xxxi. 14), 15. In this prohibition harvest-work was expressly included, notwithstanding its fre- quent necessity. (Exod. xxxiv. 21). The manner of execution was determined to be by stoning the offender. Numb. xv. 35. And this always continued the practice of the Jewish court (See Mima, Tit. Sanhedrim , c. vii. ; and Selden, de Synedriis, L ii. c. xiii. n. 5, p. 332.) By the laws of the heathen Romans, the Rex Sacrorum and Flamines or priests were obliged to see no work should be done on rel^ous festivals, which# order they published by a crier. An offender was punished by a fine laid upon him : if he nad profaned the day igno- rantly, not wilfully, he was to offer a hog in sacrifice. (Macrobius Satumal ., 1. L, c. 16, p. 62 ; Servius. in Virgil . Georgic ., 1. i., p. 82.) This author shows that Virgil only allows water to be let out, or a dam to be made by necessity in sudden floods which would otherwise destroy the harvest For except the case of such a necessity, this and all handicrafts and other work were forbidden, and shops shut, that men might not be drawn from attending the religious sacrifices and worship of the day. The priests sent officers before them to see this observed, for which he quotes Varro, and the constant practice. This rule was derived from a Patriarchal general tradition in observing festivals of true religion. Mutius Scsevola, the learned lawyer, casuist, and orator, and distinguished high priest and consul, being consulted what might be done upon such days, made answer — 44 That which could not without damage be left alone." Quod prestermimum noceret { Macrob ., c. 16.) For an instance Macrobius mentions the case of relieving an ox fallen into a pit ; the same which is mentioned by our Saviour, Luke xvi., 5. Thus the heathen Romans allowed on festivals only works of necessity and charity; but were large enough in their concessions of these, as appears from Columella, {De Re Rustica , 1. ii., c. 22.) and Virgil. Georg., 1. L, v. 268, 269, 270, 271, 2/2.) Constantine the Great commanded every heathen to shut up his shop, and interrupt all business, arts, trades, and judicial acts on Sundays ; but did not prohibit husbandry, alleging lest the fruits of the earth should perish by the loss of the season. {Cod., 1. iii., Tit. 12, de Feriit , omnet Judices.) This law, with the exemption of works of husbandry, was followed in the Basilicon (or code of laws in use in the lower Greek empire), compiled by the Emperor Basil, the Macedonian, and published in 866 by his son and successor, Leo the Philosopher, ( Basilic ., 1. vn., Tit 17, de Dielm* Feriatis, 1. xix.) But this Leo added a new law to forbid all husbandry ; for the divine law does not allow it on festivals, as he says, {Leo, Imp. Const it. 54, ad Calcem in Juris Civ. Justin.) And this remained ever after in force, as ap- pears from Harmenopulas, (1. i.. Tit 4, n. 7.) Agriculture was never looked upon as allowed except in cases of necessity ; but this induced Constantine not to bring such work under the penalties inflicted by. the civil law, which, however, was done by his successors.

In the ancient laws of the Burgundians (from the constitution of King G on- tram, anno 585), in those of the Bavarians, Alemans, or Germans, Christian Goths, Hungarians, <fec., husbandry and all other work, except that which is necessary for the dressing of victuals, is forbidden under severe penalties. Among the French, King Childebert II., in 595, ordered every one who was convicted of having done any work on Sunday to be amerced fifteen shillings (or solidi) ; if a slave, three, or to be scourged. {Baluz., T. i., col. 20, Linden- brog., 18, 347 J Goldastus , T. iii., p. 116.) King Pepin in a synod, A.D. 755, forbad work on Sundays ; but, to shun the Jewish superstition, says, travelling in carriages is allowed, (Synod of Vemeuil-sur-Oise, c. 14, cone., T. 6, p. 1664 ; Cointe, Annul., T. v., Capitular., 1. vii., c. 276 ; Baluz., T. L, col. 173 and 1086.) Pepin’s son Charlemagne, enlarged this law, allowing only three occa*

Ch. IV.] THE LOAD'S DAT.

all things, whom they know by the light of nature, particularly on some weekly festival. Servile work is excused on festivals in the

sions for carriages on festivals, viz., for the use of the army, for victuals, and for conveying dead bodies to the grave. (Capitular., 1. i., c. 75, fialuz., T. i., p. 239, 240, and 716.)

Amongst the English Saxons, Withred, King pf Kent, ordained in the Council of Berghamstede, that if a servant does any work from sun-set on Saturday to Sunday, the master be fined 80 shillings, as Sir Henry Spelman exhibits it. According to Wilkins’s reading and construction of this law, if a servant worked without orders, he was to pay six shillings, or be scourged ; if a free- man, he was to lose his freedom, or pay 60 shillings. (Wilkins, p. 15.) By the laws of Alfred and Guthrun the Dane, a freeman working upon holidays was to be made a slave, or pay his wita (or arbitrary amerciament) and Ins lashite (or Danish settled fine). Laws of the like nature had been before made by King Ina, in a synod held at Berghamstede, under Bertuald, Archbishop of Canterbury. By St. Stephen’s laws in Hungary, a man that worked on a Sun- day was to forfeit his best ox or horse, or all his instruments and tools, or redeem them by being scourged. {Deer, Stephani , R. C. ii., c. 7, ad Calcem Bonfinti and fVerbeuzi.,

As to Law Proceedings. — With the Jews it was a standing maxim, that on Sabbaths and other solemn days of religion, no judicial acts could be allowed ; to show their abhorrepce of which, they would not on those days, so much as wash or sit in conversation in the courts where their magistrates were used to determine causes. See Misna tit. Bitza sec. Tom, (Tob. c. 5), and Mahnonides Sabbath, o. 23. Seldep, de Sinedriis , 1. ii. c. 10. n. 2. Under the Christian emperors, on the Lord’s Day all proceedings at law were silenced by Constantine the Great, (Cod. 1. iii. tit. 12. de Feriis , 1. 3. Omnes Judices , and again by Theodosius, tit, 1. ii. ut in die). This prohibition was extended to all arbi- trations by Valentinian II. (Cod. Theod. de Executoribus , 1. iii. 8? de Exaction - ibus9 1. xiii.) To all exactions of debt and arrests, by Valentinian I. (ib. 1. i. and x.) and Valentinian II. (ib. 1. iii., and 1. xiii.) and bv a constitution of Leo and Anthemius, retained in Justinian’s. Cod. de Feriis , 1. xi. Dies Festos, The punishment of the transgressor was the forfeiture of the person’s place, . and of his whole estate. Valentinian II. commanded this offence to be punished as sacrilege ; because, says Gothofred, the day was wholly devoted to the worship and service of God. But this was left out in Justinian's Code. The seasons of Christmas, Easter, Epiphany, and some other great holidays, enjoyed the same immunity, (Cod. de Feriis 1. vii. Omnes Dies.) All these laws are repeated in the BasiUcon of the lower Greek empire. Like immunities were granted by the laws of the Christian Visigoths, Ostrogoths, Lombards, Franks, and English Saxons.

Edward the Confessor, in the laws, which were confirmed by William the Norman, establishes an immunity from arrests, from three of the clock on Saturday afternoon, to Monday morning, {Leges Edw, Con . c. 3. apud Wilkins, p. 197.)

Markets, and all buying and selling, are not expressly mentioned in the law of Moses, concerning the Sabbath or festivals. But to expose things to sale on those days certainly was comprised under worldly business. And to buy or sell even victuals on the Sabbath without necessity, was a profanation of the festival, both from the beginning and after the captivity, and was severely enforced by Nehemias, 2 Esdr. x. 29, 31 ; xiii. verse 15 to 23.

The Roman laws are silent on this article. Several Councils forbid all sell- ing of goods on Sundays, except of necessary provisions, nor these during the hours of divine service. This exception is also made in the civil laws. Char- lemagne forbad markets bn Sundays in his laws given to the Lombards {Leges Longob. 1. ii. tit. Ag. c. 1. and 2. Lindenbr. p. 645. Baluz. t. i. p. 738. in capi- tolar* L ii. c. 7.) And to the French (cap. 18. ib. and 1. i. c. 130.J Yet he allows those which had been anciently and legally admitted, c. 8. 1. i. Baluz. tip. 421* This prohibition was renewed by Charles the Bald, without any

SB* LBW’a-D**,

fig

£Tk. 1,

following circumstances. First, if jt t>« «« if a person

walking in a garden pluck up a weed ; or if one make a stitch or two

pxention of the exception, which nevertheless custom has often authorized, (See Car. Calvi. tit. 36, c. 19. Baluz. t. ii. p. 182.) . In England, by the laws of king Athelstan, (c. 24,) and by those of Alfred and Guthrnn the pane, all buy- ing and selling on the Lord’s Day, is fafbidde# on pain of forfeiting the goods or price, and a fine of 30 shillings, Markets- are forbidden on that day by king Ethel- red, under a severe penalty; And again by king Canutus; and all secular as- semblies, unless in cases of the utmost necessity. See their laws published by Wilkins. These laws of rbe state are only intended for enforcing those of the church; Ijy which buying and selling are forbidden on such days. (See tit. de ferns, c. l. and ii.) which yet are not understood of cases of necessity, or tri- fling things bought privately, and withpqt any circumstances of solemnity. Custom may sometimes have derogated a little from this condition on leaser festivals in certain places, in which, however, abuses must be watchfully and strenuously guarded against. Necessity is a sufficient excuse, when peasants cannot easily assemble or purchase necessaries on another day. Fairs have, been allowed by cus(opi on certain lesser holidays : on which account the Council of Mentz, in 1549, orders such feasts, when they fall on the Lord's Pay, to he trans- ferred, adding; “ we decree that on the Lord’s DajranduJl festivals, no markets, “ dances ormorrices, which the Council of Toledo, <fcc. condemn, be tolerated.” On the Sabbath travelling was unlawful amongst the Jews, as is clour from 2 Mac. viii. 26, 27. (Matt. xxiv. 2)U, <fcc. It was only, allowed them to go a very little way, called the journey of the Sabbath, which the Rabbins determined by the distance of the camp from the tabernacle in the inarch of the Israelites, (Exod. xxxiii. 7). This the Thalmudists define 1000 paces (of live feet each) or a mile

S^halm, Tr. Erubin, T. ii. p. 161, 166. Arator, Saidas, <fep.) S. Lake says ount Olivet was a Sabbath day's jourpev from Jerusalem, (Acts i. 12). Jose- phus counts it, Are Stadia or 625 paces, perhaps to the foot of the mountain, (Ant.h xx. c. 6.) S. Epiphanins says, 66,) that it is not allowed the

4ewaio walk on the Sabbath day above six Stadia or 75 0 paces. Origen, quoted by .ifirameniu* (in Act i.) says, their journey of a Sabbath day is one mile or 2000 cuhjts, for the Jews made a mile ,2000 cubits, as Reland shows, (Palestine b ii. c. I, p. 397.) And the Rabbins quoted by him, agree with Maimonides (in HUcoth Sutftath, c. 27, n. 4.) where he says. a person may walk 2000 cubits on a Sabbath. The journey of the Sabbath seems to have been determined at least near Jerusalem, by public authority ; but we And it in some distant places a little more, in others less. The Jewish cubit was two Roman feet and a half, a mile being 1000 paces or 5000 Roman feet. (See Reland, ib. p. 397. Lewis’s Hebrew Antiquities, 1. iv. c. 16, p. 581 .) However the travelling prohibited, was only such as was in order to some temporal business, or amusement, not of devotion as to the Synagogue. (See SelOen, de Jure Nat. and Gent. 1. iii. c. 9, p. 322.) If any Jew went on the Sabbath beyond 2000 cubits, but not so far as 12 miles, be was scourged, as for transgressing the rules of the Scribes or doctors ; but if one single cubit beyond 12 miles, he was beaten with cudgels as offending expressly against thalaw of God itself. Sold. ib. p. 316.

In CbHstian states, the ancient laws of the Bavarians, published by Herold (in bis Opus Megetn Antiquurum Germanise , 1557.) And again, by Linden brog, (in Cod. Legum Antiquarian, 1613,) are most severe on this head. In these it is forbidden for any one who is travelling by land or water, to proceed on the Lord’s Day, (on which he ought to rest,) on penalty of forfeiting 12 shillings.) L-eg% Bavar . tit vi. c. 2 and 4,5, apvd Herold , p. 99 ; Lindenb. p. 414 ; Baluz . T. i. p. 113, and in notis. T. ii. p. 1016.) This was not only understood of loaded carriages, as in other countries^ but of all travelling on foot, on horseback, or by water. Whence John Boem, in his valuable book de Moribus and Ritibus om- nium Gentium , 1. iii. c. 17, p. 285, in his account of Bavaria, applies the forfeiture of 12 shillings to a common travelling stranger. In a Council held by Cuthbert, archbishop of Canterbury, in 747, it is strictly forbidden all priests and monks to travel on Sundays, unless on some urgent necessity, and when it cannot be

Ch, *V.] ^ x>A& £7

of a needle to mqnd a small hole in his coat or stocking.51 Secondly, If it be required in the “ divine service,” as in carrying a cross or relics. “ The priests break the Sabbath in the temple, and are “ without fault.” (Matth. xii. 5.)b And the Jews carried the ark on the Sabbath because this was not their work, but God's, as Tertullian observes. But any more considerable work in dressing the church ought to be anticipated when it can be done. Thirdly, If required in some duty of piety, as the burial of the dead. Fourthly, If n?wxary. (Matt, xii l. (Mark iii. 4), and xvi. 1. Luke vi. ?.) The Sabbath is for man, and any grievous necessity for the sake of his life, health, or re- putation, or to ward off any considerable loss in his fortunes, is a suf- ficient reason for dispensing iu the obligation of the rest commanded on the festival. Hence no Christian ever doubted but it is lawful for physicians and surgeons to afford on all days the necessary succours of their art. 2ndly, for servants to dress necessary food for that day, and to kill smaller, hut not large living creatures ; yet so as to reserve sufficient leisure For spiritual duties, and to prevent the day before what belongs to the remote preparation for such actions. Wherefore millers must grind the corn, and bakers bake bread the foregoing day, barring some particular necessity.®

5tldy, If harvest or other things be in danger of perishing, if the

delayed. And in some other canons of the English-Saxon Church, it is com- manded, that no one set sail or take a journey on a Sunday, unless leave be granted o&jame necessity. By the civil laws in England, in the 29th. year of Charles II., a statute was passed, enforcing the laws by which goods exposed for sale on the Lord’s Day are declared forfeited j butchers, higglers, «fcc. are forbidden to travel or come to an inn on it, on pain of forfeiting twenty shillings ; or any one to travel with a boat, barge, Ac. on this day, under a penalty of five shillings.

That it is enacted, that if any one travelling on it be robbed, no hundred

nor inhabitants can bo made answerable for a robbery so committed, as is tfie law in England on other dtgrs between son and sun.

* See Gonzales in tit. de Feriis , T. ii. p. 158. S. Antonin, part ii. Tit. 9, c. 7. § 6.

fc Tert. 1. iL adv. Marcioo.

c The custom for barbers to shave for a considerable part of the morning is an intolerable abase, which bishops and magistrates ought to remedy. Per- sons who come out of the country, and could not be shaved the foregoing day, may allege the plea of necessity; but no one barberonght, if possible, to be too long employed on stieh an account. Hence at Rome, and in some other places, an hour is fixed, in which alone it is allowed for barbers to shave on account of cases of necessity. This permission for an hour, is approved by Natalis Alex- ander, reg. 2. p. 504, T. ii., though Pope John XXll. in the year 1317, and several Councils expressly forbid barbers to shave on Sundays, their profession being in itself senile. But formerly long beards were so fashionable that shaving was not necessary for decency in company ; even in tbs 11th and 12th cen- turies, men did not shave their beards above once in 14 days. Then frequent or close shaving was not a necessary part of decent dress. The letter of Pope John XXII. in which he condemns those in France who shaved on Sundays, is extant in Odericus Rainaldus’s Annals (ad. aim 1317.) The council of Angers in 1282 orders every one to be excommunicated who shaves or causes himself to be shaved on a Sunday or holiday. But the difference of manners has somewhat mitigated this discipline. But though a servant may shave his master or dress his hair, only some degree of necessity can excuse this in a barber. Some he may admit where the laws of the place do not hinder him, or business makes it indispensable : but this he ought to confine to a limited time ; in which the advice of hi a confessor or dispensation of his pastor ought to be his rule.

THE LORD*S DAT.

[Tr. I.

necessity be general, the Bishop or Pope grants a general leave for working ; if the necessity be of some particular person or persons, the curate gives a particular leave ; but this being a law of a superior authority, viz., of the universal church, the dispensation given by the curate is in itself null, unless the necessity appear real ; as in this case alone does the church allow him to dispense in her law. (Mark iii. 4.) In the body of the canon law is inserted the general dispensa- tion granted by Pope Alexander III.* to catch herrings and other fish of passage, in a pressing necessity , except on greater festivals : but on condition that a suitable portion be given out of what is taken to the poor, or to some neighbouring church. In like manner, some compensation in alms, prayers, or other good works, is piously an- nexed to such a dispensation, especially if the necessity appear not evidently pressing. Thus will such persons not only by their desire, but also by their concurrence in good works, to the best of their power, deserve, in proportion to their fervour, a share in the general and united devotion of the whole church.

As to recreation on festivals, we are to take notice that the great and primary end of the rest commanded On these days, is that men may give their entire attention to, and due attendance upon, reli- gious duties. Yet a secondary end is a reprieve from hard labour, and a close attendance on worldly affairs, to which most men are confined on other days ; in which, according to the observation of an ancient philosopher and statesman,5 if no interruption be made, their strength and faculties are exhausted, and their minds become dull and languid ; whence all legislators, even for civil purposes, as the same writer remarks, instituted festivals on which men’s minds may be cheerfully relaxed, that these days may be an ease, comfort, refresh- ment, and delight, amidst the fatigues of life. For, as Plato savs, festivals arc necessary to relieve both the mind and the body.c tFe must , therefore , so expound the* obligation of this precept, both as to the labour which is forbidden, and the rest that is enjoined, as to shun on one side the licentiousness of profaners, and oh the other a Jew- ish and Pharisaical superstition and, enthusiasm. Nor is recreation to be condemned on festivals, provided it be innocent, inoffensive, grave, decent, and moderate, be only allowed after the public offices of religion have been fulfilled, and be no impediment to the private duties of devotion. Such may be a walk in the evening, a grave conversation, or visit of a good friend.

Put all diversions are forbidden on festivals, which are inconsistent with the dignity, piety, and gravity of days consecrated to religion, or which give offence or scandal to good men. Nothing can be ad- mitted on the Lord’s Day which is an enemy, or even which is not a

m See Barbosa de officio Parochi, cap. 16. p. 119, cap. 3, de Feriis.

b Seneca L. de Tranquilitate Animi, c. 16. Plato, 1. n. de leg.

c Not a century ago, martial exercises being still in fashion, and encouraged by the great in order to inure men to fatigues, stripes, and wounds ; men carried their cudgels to Church by flagrant abuse on Sundays in the afternoon, left them behind some door during service, and when it was over challenged one another, Rod measured their strength at bruising in the public squares and streets.

Chap. IV.] the lobd’s day. 29

friend to religion, because natural reason abhors all irreligious ac- tions, especially upon a day of religion ; and, 2dly, because all pious men, all pastors and lawgivers of the church, severely inveigh against, forbid, and condemn the unchristian. and scandalous abuse and profa- nation of riotous eating, immoderate drinking, wanton dancings and songs, on a day appointed for the divine service, for an imitation of God himself in his holy rest and divine contemplation of himself, and for the celebration of the great mystery of our redemption. Many Councils particularly forbid on Sundays all dancings, those at least which are public and promiscuous.® St. Charles Borromseo con- demns all shows, combats, dances, and morrices, on Sundays, &c. ; see his first and third Councils of Milan. Sotting in taverns and ale- houses on festivals is a most pernicious and criminal profanation.b The Council of Cologne, in 1536, ordered taverns and victualling houses to be shut up ; and all plays, rioting, drinking, dancing, and all unbecoming recreations, can never be tolerated on festivals. The Council of Paris, in 1557, decrees that all plays, dances, drinking, and idle discourse be avoided on holidays. It is said with truth, tnat a Sabbath spent in idleness is the Sabbath of beasts of burthen '; but those who employ it in sensual diversions, sports, or conversation, or in surfeiting, sotting, or wanton sonnets, make it a Sabbath of Satan, the deviPs holy-day. Sins committed on a Sunday or other festival, as all theologians agree, contract from this circumstance of the time some degree of sacrilege. This amounts to a distinct mortal sin in scandalous, external, sinful actions, such as debauchery, drunkenness, <&c.c Hence the penitential canons, and the best theologians, with S. Bonaventure in his method of penance, or confession, order pe- nitents to be asked whether they committed a sin in an holy place, or on an holy time or festival ; because such a season, as well as an holy place, is a circumstance which aggravates the malice of a sin. Hence sins of action, at least if the perpetration take up a conside- rable space of time, or if they are scandalous and public, contract on festivals, &c. a circumstance of a grievous sacrilege. All sin receives some aggravation from this circumstance, and is contrary to the end of this precept, our sanctification ; therefore to be guarded against on festivals, with more than ordinary watchfulness. And. though the end does not fall under the precept, yet sin defrauds the Christian of all the advantages and blessings of the festival, and is a profanation of a time consecrated to bur sanctification, and God's worship. Waving, therefore, the dispute, whether all sin be expressly forbidden by this precept among servile works, as some theologians of the first class nave attempted to prove, it is certainly most contrary to the end of this law, and the most grievous evil that can befall a Christian on

• See Natalis Alexander Theol. Dog. Reg. 3, p. 503 : Cone. Paris ; An. 1547 ; Carolus M. tn Capitular, etc.

k S. Charles Borrcm. Cone. Medio. 3, apnd Acta. Eccl. Mediol. T. i. p. 85, 86, and Synod. Med. 11. p. 490.

e S. Tho. seennda second®, <j. 122, a. 4. ad 2 S. Antonin. 2 part tit ix. c. 7, § 2, S. Bonav. Confessionale , c. ii. partic. 20 and 3, dist 37, <fec. See Merbesin*, p. 1, 9, 75, p. 208. Collet Tr. de Pecc. c. iii. p. 467.

JK) rife d i¥. £T$L i:

iBbse .days of sanctity. Whence S. Augustine says: u Keep the u Sahbatp, but not carnally arid in delights* like the Jews, who abused u this rest to sin. They would have done better to dig the whole day, than to dance the whole day/* And again, “ They had u better card wopl and spin on the Sabbath, than immodestly dance 4i oh that day in their porticos or balconies.”6 The Fathers often Reproach the carnal Jews, that though they would not work on theifr $abbath, yet , they made no scruple to spend it in idleness and unlaw- ful pleasures, as dancing and revelling for which the prophets them- selves had frequently threatened them with divine vengeance/ (Isa. v. 12 (Amos vi. 3).)' Theodosius the Elder, in 386, forbade even Fagans to be gratified on the Lord’s Day with any gymnastic exercise of gla- diators in the theatre, any public sports, any stage play* any horsd race in the circus, or hunting or fighting of wild beasts.® His grandsoh Theodo$ius the Younger extends the prohibition of these diversions to the other great festivals of the year* as Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, arid Easter, enjoining both Jews and Gentiles over all tne Wotld so far, to show respect to these days/1 nor would he allow any exception to be made in honour of the Emperor’s birth-day, or the anniversary of his accessions to the throne, if it should fall on a Sunday or other festival, adding that no greater honour can be paid to the Imperial Majesty on earth, than by showing a* just veneration to the Majesty of Almighty God in neaven.e Leo ind Anthemius published

, * S. Aug. Ejmair. 2 in Ps. 32, 4, 6, p. lStl, T. vi. ;

b C. de To Chord. .p. in. quoted by S. Tljo. 2, secundae q. 122, Art. 4, ad 3? .

® S. Atlg. En. in Ps. 91. Priidentiu&j Apotheosis vers. ccccxxi. Rhfffii ra Osc. Xi. 11, S. CHryWfcL hdm. 1 de Lazaro. Theodoret. qu. 92 in Lent, hfid lb Phil, iii, 19* dhjMn Amo#, vi. 3. CjTil. Alex. in Amos, vi. 3, ■

* Cpd, jhegd.,1. xYj tit. 5, de Spcctaculu Leg. 2. r The same was again forbid by a Joint law of Valeqtipian It . Theodosius and Arcadius in 389, cod. 1. iii. tit 12, de Fertis, 1. vii. omries Dies.

'• * Dominic et Natal, dfqite Eptphan. Christie Puschee etiafn, &f Qtiinfucrgeef* mm Diebut onmi Theatrorum alque crroendum vofaptate per univervas Urhee ear - 1 iwdempopulU deuegata tola Chrvttianorum mentes Dei cultibus occupenlur.

Theodosius Junior (Cod. Theodos. ib. de Spectaculis , leg. 5, p. 353.) He adds of the Jews and Pagans : “ Let them know that times of devotion are not t*rbe “ confounded with or converted into seasons of pleasure. Nor let any man think *« himself obliged in honour of our Imperial Majesty, to neglect the sacred busi- 44 ness and religion of the day, and apply himself to those public diversions ; for u let him not doubt, that we look upon ourselves as then best served and ho- “ poured, when the excellence of the Omnipotent God, and his mercies to all, are M devoutly celebrated/’ ib. In the latter Greek empire the substance of these laws, is copied in the Basilicon, (l. vii. tit. 17* de Diebve ferialis , L xxiii. and These laws have been always rigorously observed wherever the imperial law yas in force. The toleration of such diversion in some other places is an in- fefefeTahle abuse and scandal, the toleration of which nothing but absolute neces- sity from dangers of greater evil, can excuse in legislators and magistrates, and po pretence can justify those who exhibit or frequent them on these days. .What the first Christian Emperors, by the advice of the most holy and learned, amongst the ancient Fathers, thought they could not tolerate in Jews and Heathens, Christians cannot presume to allow amongst themselves.

The ancient Franks had no relish for the entertainments of the stage : indeed they understood not the Greek or Latin compositions of this kind,, nor had any thing of that kind in the Teutomck. The theatres were destroyed ,by the Franks im their first conquest in Gaul at Mentz, Triers, Cologne, Lyons, <fcc., add never

ttafy.iV.2 i<mti ©At. Si

& like* pfohifcifion of ill stage entcHaihments ini shows on these day^ eoirttrianding lhat if thfe Emperor's birth day "happened to felt on any bf-* them, it slibuld be deferred. And they ordered that whoever

tefcmit by them, as we learn from the learned Sal viail of Marseilles, in 443* (</e uuberti Dei . p. 144,) who ascribes the destruction of these cities to a just Provi- dence it* punishing their incorrigible voluptuousness and crimes, of which the stage was proof. _ The diversions of the stage were abolished in like manner bjr the Visigoths in Spain. The first or old Roman province in Gaul, or Southern Gaul, fell under the power of the Franks by degrees, and rather by submission than by the ravages of war. Hence the diversions of the theatres were continued some time at Marseilles and Arles, and were sererely inveighed against by S* Capsarius in his sermons, as S. Cyprian of Toulon informs us In his life. Actors Were excommunicated, by the first Council of Arles in 314, .and again by the second in 452. Theodoric discountenanced these diversions by law in Italy, a# appears by Ennodius’s Apologetic, (p.^G,) yet tolerated them in some degree by necessity, and against his will, as appears from the fiiie maxims he lays down on this head, in his letters, j [apud Cassiaor , 1. iii. ep. 51, 1. i. ep. 31.) In the Eastern empire the stage subsisted till its destruction, especially at Antiocli.antJ Constan- tinople ; but alw ays the object of the severest censures of all zealous pastors. Nor was it ever tolerated there on Sundays or holidays. Nicenhorus, patriarch of Constantinople, in the beginning of the ninth century, and Pope Nicholas I, in his Answers to the Consultations of the Bulgarians, m 866, (c. 12 and 44,) order that no such diversion be tolerated, particularly on Sundays or in Lent, Photins, in his Noraocanon, in the ninth ; Balsamon, patriarch of Antioch, Zo- naras and Aristenes, able canonists in the twelfth century, repeat this inviolable maxim and law both of the church and state. In France, England, and $pain* bo wonder we find no laws framed on this head, since all plays were banished. However, during .this interval, Childebert I. in France, forbad, even on the pre-? ceding evening of days de voted to religion, namely Sundays, the feasts, of Christmas, Caster, Ac., all drinking, singing, revelhngs, and mobbish danc- ings in the streets, which, with great indignation, he calls offences of God, and sacrilegious impiety ; commanding any person that should bo guilty of *such a profanation, if of servile condition, to be putiished with 100 lashes; if a free- man, or a person of quality, severely, at the discretion of the judge. ( Huluz . T. i. p. 7, and 8, LfibLe (Vm. T. v. p. 810, 811.) He again forbad morrice^ dancers to go about on Sundays. Charlemagne, with labour and worldly business, prohibits on these days hunting, and all troorts of that nature. (Capi-i tul. 1. i. c. 19, Ac. ; Baluz. T. i. p. 240, and 716.) His son, I^ewis Debonnaire*. forbad all vain, and idle conversation, singing and dancing on Sundays. (Capiiuf. 1. vb c. 205 : Batuz , T- p. 958.) In England, Canute forbad by law all nunt- ing on the Lord’s Day, (c. xv.) which anciently no one could have thought of reconciling ^ith the festival. The Council of Oenham, in 1009, composed of the bishops and chief nobility, with King Ethelred at their head, had before enacted this «Uaw of the sthte, according to the canons of the church, and its constant doctrine and practice. Poetry being revived in France under Charley fbngue, singers and musicians introduced by degrees various arts of amusing tiie mob with little shows and farces, accompanying grotesque songs and music, in the streets and^ private houses, with various postures, antic tricks, jocular and ridiculous gesticulations. These we find often mentioned in writes .of that period ; and from these arose buffoons, which in the tenth century were intro- duced into courts, and generally entertained there. See John of Salisbury (de Nugh CwriaVtum , 1. c. 8), Ac. Of these we are to understand Mezeray, when he commends Philip Augustus for expelling comedians apd jugglers ms court ; and wnen he mentions the same oi St. Louis, who would only have ftt court one singer, who entertained him sometimes wi^h nothing but sing- ing pious songs and psalms. Poets were very numerbus in Province and at Avignon, whither they came from Italy in the 13th century. Some of these took it ihto their heads to represent upon stages or scaffolds pious scripture his- tories ; which, thfy first introduced at pans in the beginning of the 14th cen- tury. (See Maire, Paris Ancienne el Kouv. T, ii. p. 503.) Boileau calls these

32 the lord’s day. [Tb. I.

transgressed this law, either by exhibiting these games or shows, or by being present at them as a spectator, should forfeit his office, if he enjoyed any, and be punished with confiscation of his whole estate.

a rustic company of pilgrims, who first set up the stage at Paris. They had been at Paris a very few years, when, in. 1541, under Francis the first, the parliament forbad such pious representations, by which, under the mask of devotion, holy things were often profaned and religion disgraced. See such Representations of the History of the Fall of Adam, the Incarnation and Suf- fering of Christ, ckc., used among the friars of Coventry, <kc. in Stephen’s Mo- nas ti con, Hearne, <fec. Instruction and edification were the motives alleged. But it is not easy not to border upon buffoonery, which on such adorable myste- ries is akin to blasphemy. From the time of Francis I. profane representations, <fcc. began to be revived in France ; but it was only in the voluptuous court of Henry III. that regular comedian were set up in order to flatter the passions of debauched persons. See Le Brun. (7r. des Jeux de Theatre, p. 214, Ac. and Mezeray, anno 1557.) We therefore cannot wonder that laws and canons were not at that time framed in France against an evil then unknown in that kingdom. The diversions of buffoons and jugglers were often forbidden to be tole- rated in church-yards, or on the eves of festivals before churches ; and several Councils forbad clergymen to be spectators at their dances, <fec., as the Council of Worcester, in 1240, that of Buda, in 1279, those of Cologne, in 1280, of Nismes, in 1284, of Bayonne, in 1300, of Paris, in 1515, <kc. Such amuse- ments were particularly forbidden on festivals. See the Councils of Cologne, in 1536, of Chartres, in 1538, of Cambray. in 1550. Whenever plays were set on foot, the church always severely forbad them, especially on Sundays and festivals; in France we see this in the Statutes of the General Assembly of the Clergy at Malin, in 1579, in the Councils of Bourges, in 1584, of Avignon, in 1594, of Rheims, in 1583, of Tours, in 1586, See also Cardinal Ca- mus’s Ordonnances Synodal?*, where he shows them to be condemned by the church, particularly on festivals, and in Advent and Lent. The Councils of Spain, quoted for this purpose by Cardinal d’Aguire, and the learned Canonist Gonzales. S. Charles Borromaeo desired that the magistrates should abolish entirely all stage-entertainments; and he exerted his zeal with extmordinary vigour, that at least so crying a profanation of holy days, and of the sacred seasons of Advent and Lent might be utterly extirpated. See his life, and his first Provincial Council, p. i. tit. 12, <fcc. Amongst Protestants, it is well known how some seemed to reduce the whole religion to a Pharisaical observ- ance of the Sabbath, consisting in outward forms and a Jewish superstitious rest; which many abnsed by the most scandalous hypocrisy, affectation, and pride, to the destruction of all sincere humility, devotion, and -religion, as is proved by remarkable instances in Dr. Barnard’s Life of Dr. Peter Heylin, «fcc. This affected scrupulosity in keeping a more than Jewish Sabbath, made up a main point of that Puritanic fanaticism which raised so great broils and kindled the grand rebellion in England. Charles L in the first year of his reign, in 1625, passed “ An Act for punishing Abuses committed on the Lord's Day,” in which it is forbidden to hold or be present at bear-baiting or any such pastimes upon the Lord’s Day : or any meetings out of the person’s own parish, for any sports or pastimes whatever, on pain of forfeiting three shillings and four- pence, or of being set in the stocks for three hours ; and another Act, in his third and 17th year, in which it is forbidden for any carrier, waggoner, butcher, or drover, to travel on the lord’s Day, upon the forfeiture of twenty shillings \ laws wtill in force. Yet, in 1633, he by a declaration renewed the law of his father, James I., enacted in 1618, allowing lawful recreations on the Lord’s Day, without impediment of the divine service, and when people had first done their duty to God. In the same year, 1633, Archbishop Laud declared wakes and church-ales might be tolerated on the Feasts of the Dedication of Churches on Sundays. The declaration of James I. had been well received, and was judged seasonable and popular ; but this of Charles I. was looked upon as irreligious and profane. The Archbishop and King were both censured by the Puritans. Many others thought a legal declaration of that nature might be made an occa-

THE LOB D’fi DAT.

Ch. IV.]

These laws were made at the solicitation of the pastors of the church, who w6re no less careful on their side to guard the service of this day from the encroachment of vain pastimes, and especially of diversions, which are in themselves dangerous and criminal, and which the church detested and forbad at all times.* The Council of Carthage, in 42 5, presented a petition to Theodosius the Younger, that the law made by Gratian against public shows might be enforced. Accordingly that prince renewed the edict, and commanded the cir- cuses and theatres to be shut up on the Lord’s Day, and great fes- tivals. The Fourth Council of Carthage, about the year 398, ordered those to be excommunicated, who, neglecting the solemn worship of God on this or other sacred times, should spend the day in plays, or such like diversions.

non and encouragement of abuses. To enumerate the different opinions of Pro- testant writers on the Sabbath or Lord’s Day, would be a task both tedious and of no utility or importance. It is sufficient to observe, that they all disagree in their sentiments in many essential points, and many fall into opposite extremes ; great numbers, both in Germany and England, have confidently advanced, that the precept itself of keeping the Sabbath, or the Lord’s Day, is barely cere- monial or ecclesiastical, not a moral law.

Gaining, and other such public scandalous crimes, are particularly forbidden on Sunday by many express canons, and from the profanation of the holy time, con- tract an aggravating malice of sacrilege. ( Synodus Ling on, 2yc. apud Nat. Alex* p. 506, cap. and consider ct. de Penit c. 6, Lyran. in Exod. 20. Alex . Alent , Ac.) The modern amusement of cards was no sooner introduced than branded in some Councils as not agreeable to the sanctification of festivals, especially when fol- lowed in public assemblies, or for any long time, or before the whole divine office is finished. Thus the Council of Cracow, in 1573, and that of Petrioow, in 1578, ordain, that 44 there should be no meetings at the tavern, no drinking matches, 44 dice, cards, concerts of music, dancing, or any such pastime, especially at the time when all ought to be at church.” Cards, in all games of hazard, ore highly criminal : in other games unprofitable and dangerous, and easily creating a passion and attachment, especially if continued any considerable time. Not only games of hazard, but all deep plays at cards, which always proceed from, and nourishes a criminal avarice, are in themselves at all times sinful and scandalous, and on Sundays a profanation of the festival. Moreover, all playing at cards, at least for any considerable time, is a bewitching dissipation of the mind, has a tendency to stupify the sensds, indisposes the soul for spiritual exercises, alien- ates the mind from a serious* application to God and his worship, and renders it unfit for devotional duties. Therefore, to pass a considerable part of the dav at cards, is contrary to the end and spirit of this precept, which is the sanctifica- tion of our souls by an application to exercises of piety and devotion. It is a trangression. of the precept itself, if it be so practised as to fall under public sports or diversions, conaexnned by many canons. That forbidden sports may be allowed on Sundays, after the public duties of religion have been complied with, is a false plea ; for the whole day being devoted by God to his service, no one can pretend that the precept of sanctifying ceases to oblige, when in the evening the church-office even of the afternoon is all over, and has been attended, though suitable diversions may be then more freely indulged for some short in- terval, as it does not tend to withdraw any from the public service. Continence in tiie married state bring anciently prescribed pn festivals and fasting-days, we cannot wonder that some churches forbad marriages to be solemnized on any Sunday ; though this prohibition is now abolished. Egbert, Archbishop of York, made canon: 44 Let nothing else be done on the Lord’s Day, but to attend on 44 God in hymns, and psalms, and spiritual canticles. Whoever marries on the 44 Sunday, let him do penance for seven days.”

• See this famous law retained in the Justinian Code. (Cod. 1, L 3, tit. 12, de Feriis, L vii. dies Festos.)

a rate xx>Wh Bih. ($*-. t.

CHAP. V.

On ike obligation of sanctifying the. Sunday, %y exercises of t)i- votioh, and all works of Piety .

To.itohgind that the bare rest commanded by the lew sanctified the Sfcbbath, ahd satisfied the obligation of this precept, was a pernicious error of mahy carnal Jews: The very terms in which it i$ expressed

dearly Confute this extravagance 5 for to keep the Sabbath holy is to employ it in the Worship of God, pious meditation, and good works* fcjr which God fe honoured, and our souls sanctified, as all fathers ana theologians, and the Very critics and grammarians, expound these words.* It is said, both in the 2nd chapter of Genesis, and ih the 20th of Exodus, that God “ blessed and sanctified the seventh day” from Ihe beginning of the world. The import of these words must be, that God, by entering into his holy rest in the contempla- tion of his own adorable essence and perfections, and of his work, in Which he has displayed his goodness, imparted a bless- ing, and ah outward sanctification to this day, derived on it from bis sanctity, and his mogt holy rest : also from the external deputa- tion* by which he appointed that it should be dedicated by his creatures td his service alone. All the glorious inhabitants of the heavens joined in their Jubilee at the completion of this great work, and at the holy rest of God. Hence we are told in the 38th chap: ter of Job, that when “ the foundations of the earth were laid, all u the Sons of God made a joyful melody;” men join their homages With them, particularly on thi$ festival, instituted for this purpose. When .God repeats to. men this law in Exodus, “ Remember that “thou keep holy the Sabbath Day.” And in Deuteronomy: “ Ob- i% Serve the day of the Sabbath, to sanctify it he commands us to separate this day from the common employments of life, to set it apart* and to devote, and consecrate it wholly to his holy service. For all this is naturally implied in the word sanctify , as Theodoret and Other Fathers and interpreters unanimously explain it, and as Suice- rus, and Other critics and grammarians, prove from all the passages where this word js used in Holy Scripture or in other authors. It is therefore clear that the word Sabbath does not hero signify rest of inaction-, (Which is the import of the Hebrew word Noaeh ) but only h ceasing from What a person was doing before.b Corporal labour h in Our present state both the punishment and the remedy of sin ; by oWr fatigues we accomplish our penance, repair the losses we have Sustained by sin, add arm ourselves against future danger 5 by the same We recover Paradise, and Christ having by his pains and sweat opened it again to us, suffering and labour are become the fruitful source of all blessings for Our satisfaction and eternal glory, but this labour has its season, and cannot be a defeasance of our most essential obligation, Upon a million Of indefeisibie titles of paying to God the

* Lyran in Exod. xx_ 8 ; Bonfreriuif, ib, ; Critici ftpnd PolWnin Synopsa Cntic. ibid; SftltrtW, V. Ayidtw, Theodarettw, <fcc. Patfes.

b See Leigh, Critica sacra, in Voce TISUJ Shabath , Whence Sabbath is derived.

di. V.] tb± Loib*i i> it. 34

hbknk^e^ bf our hearts. Therefore, bn this festival we lay aside aH the affairs of the worid, remove ourselves from its importunities, noise and tumults, and shut out eyes to its vanities, not to indulge sloth, which is always criminal ; but that we may in silence fix our whole atten- tion on trod, and give Up oUr hearts entirely to him. Hence is Sunday called the Lord’s Day ; because it* is entirely ’devoted to his immediate Service. The rest therefore commanded on this day is ah imitation of the rest Of God in the eternal sweet contemplation of his oWn perfections, and of that which the blessed enjoy in God : both full of ardour ; both an uninterrupted action. “ God’s rest is “ all action,” Says St. Austin.* The rest of a Christian on festivals is in like manner to consist in a serious application to the sanctifies tion of his soul, especially by interior exercises of religion, as $. Chrysostom excellently explains.6 The principal duties of religion, by which festivals are to be sanctified, are public and private prayer, holy meditation, or pious reading ; instruction in the mysteries of faith and moral duties, self-examination, religious education of chil- dren, works of mercy spiritual and corporal, and * above all, the fre- quent use of the sacraments, as principal means of our sanctifica- tion, and an assiduous attendance on the great sacrifice of the new law. The public worship* of God ought to be first mentioned* Without this no religion can be established or subsist in any society of men.c Nor did any set of men ever form themselves into any religion, true or false, without it ; so strongly is the necessity of this duty engrafted by the Author of nature in the hearts of men. The public worship of God supports the belief of his being, a deep sense of his majesty, and humble devotion in the world. By it is a sense of religion preserved and propagated amongst men : by it we more powerfully invite and engage others to serve God than we can by words, and thus, by glorifying him publicly, exercise the functions of Apostles in propagating his honour amongst many to his glory on earth, and to the salvation of the souls of men to the end of time ; there being nothing by which we more effectually contribute to the edification of our neighbour. So consonant is this to nature, that the idolatrous nations, which were fallen into such shameful irregularities and blindness, as to neglect all religious instruction in moral duties, as the Fathers of the church observe, d always scrupulously retained their public false worship, even when they were abandoned to so ex- travagant a corruption of heart, as to reauce their whole religion to these external rites. So evidently essential is public worship -to all religion, that the wisest law-givers and founders of states have ever made it an essential part of their civil constitution. God, who by his holy Providence always provided for the honour of his divine

S. Aug. 1. i. Coni c. 4. and 1. iv. de Gen. ad litt. c. IS. and Tr. 39. in Joan. k * S. Chrysosi. Horn. L de Lazaro.

r c S. Aug. de Civ. Dei. 1. ii. c. 4, 5, <fec. See on this the excellent Reflections and Reasoning of S. Thomas Aquinas, Opusc. 4. de Decakgo, T. xriL op.

5. Bonaventare, Berm. iv. de Decal. T. ii. dec. Sm a! m Wooludon’s Mmgion of Nature detiueated, p, 24. Jdiuute Philosopher, vol. i. p. 23, Cud Worth ’s /*- telledual System, p. 691. Bishop Long’s Serin, v. at Boyle's Lectures. d Lactant. In* tat. L iv. c, 3. S. Aug. de Civ. Dei. 1. ii. c. 6, <fe c.

J> 2

name, a true church of faithful believers and adorers, that he might be glorified on earth through all ages, prescribed to them public sacrifices from the beginning of the world, and directed them by express revelations and commands, always to honour him by a public worship. By his divine appointment the ordinary sacrifices com- manded to be offered every day in the temple, were doubled on the Sabbath, (Num. xxviii. 8,) and the Jews met in their synagogues on this weekly festival to attend public prayer, and listen to the reading and explication of the sacred oracles of the Prophets, as we learn from the gospels, (Luke iv. 16 (Acts xiii. 14),) the testimonies of the Jewish writers, and the Chaldaic paraphrases made use of by them after their return from the captivity. Christians from the establish- ment of the church sanctified the Sunday, by meeting to attend to- gether the celebration of the holy eucharist, and public instructions, as appears from the Acts of the Apostles, (Acts xiii. 14 ; xx. 7,) and the most early amongst the primitive Fathers.* S. Justin Martyr, in the second age, in his Greater Apology, b says ; “ Upon the Sunday, u all that live either in the city or country, meet together at the tc same place, where the writings of the Apostles and Prophets are “ read, as much as time will allow ; when this is done the Bishop u makes a sermon, wherein he instructs the people, and animates “ them to the practice of the good precepts. At the conclusion of “ this discourse, we all rise up together and pray ; and prayers being “ over, bread and wine and water is offered, and the Bishop puts up “ prayers and thanksgivings, with all the fervency he is able, and the a people conclude all by the acclamation, Amen . Then the conse* “ crated elements are distributed to and partaken of, by all that are “ present, and sent to the absent bjr the hands of the deacons."6 Tertullian describes the essential public duties of religion as follows: “ We meet altogether in One- assembly, that as it were formed in an " army praying we beseech God by our joint supplications to him. " This violence which we s$em to offer, is agreeable to him. We “ pray for the emperors, their ministers, the magistrates, the welfare of

• w It seems a* contradiction to appoint public and solemn times for private 44 worship. If men are bound to worship God only in private, there is no need of 44 public days of rest dedicated to God’s service. For every man may take his 44 own time for it, as he finds most convenient and useful. But fixed and stated 44 times of worship evidently prove that solemn and public days of worship are not 44 sanctified by private .acts of devotion only.” Sherlock on Religious Assem- blies, part i. p. 123.

b S. Justin. Apol. n. 87, p. 146, ed. Cantabr.

c Mr. Reeves, in his notes on this passage, T. i. p. 117 and 110, and Dr. Pot- ter, in his Discourse of Church Government, p. 240, severely condemn those amongst the laity who ignorantly repeat with the priest the words of the conse- cration, and those of the absolution, which are peculiarly appropriated to the priestly office. Potter takes notice, that the Scripture itself points out this dis- tinction, where we read that Christ alone blessed and distributed the holy ele- ments. Whereas, (Acts iv. 24), in the other prayers all lifted up their voices with one accord. (Acts iv. 24). He refers us for the same to Constit. Apostol. 1. viii. c. 6, all the ancient liturgies, and to S. Justin, who tells us, that the people repeated the other prayers Koivy iravris all together. The words of consecration he omits out of respect; but comprised them under the prayers which he men- tions to be said by the priest.

THE LORD'S DAT.

Ch. V.J

“ the world, peace, and retarding the final doom. We meet to hear " the Holy Scriptures expounded, as present circumstances require, “ that we be admonished and instructed. By this our faith is “ nourished, our hope is strengthened, and our confidence fixed and " firmly settled upon God. We also press the duties of the gospel “ with all the power and argument we are able : exhortations are “ there made, reproofs are given, the divine censure of penance is “ passed, and the judgments are here pronounced with the greatest “ authority and circumspection, as before God, and as the highest anti- “ cipation of the judgment to come. If any one has grievously offend- “ ed, he is banished from communication in prayer in the assembly, “ and in holy communion. The presidents (Priests or Bishops,) are u men of the most venerable age and piety. Every one puts a little u into the public stock. All here is a free-will offering. All these “ collections are deposited in a common bank for feeding the poor,bury- “ ing the dead, providing for orphans ; those who had suffered by ship- “ wreck, or are condemned to the mines, or islands, or prisons, for the “ faith of Christ.** That this power of absolving or pronouncing spiritual censures was lodged only in the priests, we are assured by constant tradition, confirmed by the express testimony of Tertullian himself, b S. Cyprian,6 and others ; but it was denounced in the as- sembly of the faithful. The singular efficacy, absolute necessity, and indispensable obligation of public prayer, were the voice of rea- son, and nature silent, appear evident from this, that God made it an object of hb principal religious laws in every dispensation of his re- vealed religion, and with the most peculiar attention, appointed for it regular times, places, and ministers, and instituted sacraments to be administered, and sacrifice to be offered publicly, with many ordi- nances relating to the same. These places he is pleased to call his tabernacles in which he dwells amongst men on earth ; and to pro- mise that his eyes shall always be open, and his ears attentive to the prayers of his people which are made there, (Deut. xii. 13 ; 2 Paral. vii. 13, 14, 15, 16;) with such complacency does he delight to dis- play to us in them the magnificence of his glory, and the richness of his gracious mercy, love, and munificence. (2 Paral. v. 14.) God's ministers or priests are the angels of the earth, and the constant as- sistants before his throne here, as the seven chief angels always stand before his throne in heaven. (Apoc. i. 4 (Tob xii. 15).) In this function they pay him for all mankind an incessant homage of adora- tion, thanksgiving, praise, and love. How happy, how sublime, and how glorious is this employ! “Blessed are they that dwell in thy “ house, O Lord : they shall praise thee for ever and ever.” (Ps. lxxxiii. 5.) The priests are, moreover, mediators between God and his people, and their advocates with him, being appointed by God himself to offer him a tender of their homages, to lay before him their necessities, to avert his anger, and to draw down nis mercy and blessings upon them. All the faithful, closely cemented together,

* Tert. A pel. c. 39. b 1. de Pudicit. c. 14.

« S. Cypr. L de Unitate Eccl. and Ep. ad Felicem, Ac.

[T*bb

and with their pastors &t their head, and infinitely ahave them their invisible head, Christ Jesus, the great mediator of the New Testa- ment, form one body. When they present themselves together be- fore God, their homage is most honourable and most acceptable to him, as a king receives much greater honour from homage done him hy a city, or the states of a whole kingdom in a body, than by that which private persons offer single. In private worship we honpur God by the high esteem which we conceive and testify of his excel- lencies, But we properly do him honour when in his publie worship WC declare before others, aud in the sight of heaven and earth, our unutterable esteem, acknowledgment, and deep sense of his sovereign perfections* It is then particularly that we “ give him the honour due to his name.” Hence the angel said to the two Tobies: “ Bless ye the God of heaven ; give glory to him in the sight of all that live,” (Tob. xii, 6.) Ana the Psalmist, “ bring to the Lord “ glory and honour ; bring to the Lord glory to his name.” (Ps. xxviii. 2.) Every branch of prayer, every end and motive of this duty, furnish new proofs of the obligation of paying to God public homages and acknowledgments, 1st, The duty of adoration, praise, and thanksgiving, is the first debt and law of our nature ; it was even the Original design of God in making us, that we might praise and honour him* When he had finished the world, and put together its several parts ip exact number, weight, and measure, there was still wanting a Creature in these lower regions that could apprehend the heauty and order of his works, read in them the traces of his infinite wisdom, power, and goodness, raise itself up to the giver, honour him, and pay him & tribute of praise in all his attributes. Irrational and even in- animate beings, by bearing the impress and marks of the Deity, pay him a mute homage of praise. “ The heavens show forth the glory “ of God, and the firmament declareth his handy- work. Day to day « uttereth speech.” (Ps. xviii. 1, 2.) But a rational and spiritual ho- mage was due to God. Man therefore was formed, and endued with powers capable of knowing and acknowledging the unlimited perfec- tions of the author of all things, and placed in the world, as in the temple of God, to offer up the incense of praise and thanks for him- self and for the whole creation, particularly to supply the want or de- fect of that part, which being insensible and mute, is incapable of this duty in a spiritual manner. By our understanding we know and acknowledge God : and our will, the fountain of gratitude, prompts, and even constrains us to make him a rational return, to the best of our power, by love, praise, and thanks. To praise God is to own a due admiration of all his infinite perfections. This is the most essen- tial act of prayer, and the first act of divine love ; the most indispen- sable tribute we owe to God 5 our most excellent work ; a work com- mon to the church, triumphant and militant, which we begin op earth, but shall continue for ever in heaven ; a work which even now raises to heaven, and unites us in communion, fellowship, and employ- ment with the angels. It fills our hearts with . devotion and spiritual joy. “ Praise ye the Lord ; for it is good to sing a psalm 5 it is “ joyful, and praise is comely,” (Ps, cxlyi* 1.) Then i§ the soul

rm iv&fa mx*

©uvg

t* Slfed with mmm and fetne**,” when “ the mantfe shall jmm Gted « with joyful lips.” (Ps. teiii. 6.) prom this exercise w* derive tfig highest advantages upon ourselves; by employing our faculties eg Ged and his holy perfections, the most noble of all object!, it twn§ guv soul* from tew and grovelling things, opens and unfolds those powers which lie hid and locked up in us, improves our faculties to all degrees of perfection, and impresses, and continually perfects mere and more the divine image in qur souls* With a feeling knowledge pf God, an exquisite sense of, and seal fer his honour, andabhorrenoa and dread of all sin, which grow in us by these exercises, we advance also in true humility, discover and feel our own weakness, emptiness, imperfections, and sinfulness, by which all pride* presumption, self* sufficiency, vanity, and inordinate self-love are vanquished and ba- nished, and the wounds these vices have npade in our hearts, cured. And God never receives the tribute of our praise and tevp, Without showering down upon us hU richest graces. God, who infinitely transcends his creatures in goodness and in all excellencies, can never suffer himself to be overcome by any in love and liberality. 9 Who- M ever shall glorify me, him will 1 glorify ; but they that despise me, shall be despised.” (1 Reg* xi* 30.) We never repeat to God from our hearts and with fervent love, I am thine, or any other holy da* sire of sacrifice, praise, and love, hut he answers immediately wit^ m<- finite love : and I with all my treasures of heaven, with all my graces and blessings, I who am infinite, am all yours. And He communi- cates himself to us with a love of liberality and profusion of his gifts, which is boundless. In like manner when we adore him hy'the most profound awe and veneration, or when we glorify him, in return He communicates to us the riches of his grace and glory. In all these exercises, love finds its inexpressible sweet pleasure and joy, and moreover receives most abundant return of heavenly graces, and true never fading glory. This homage of praise, adoration, and love, we indispensably owe to God both in private, and particularly in common and in public. For this latter duty chiefly is man en- dued with speech ; for God equally hears the cry of his heart. For the same principally is he framed to live in society. The instinct and mutual necessities which link men together, are not confined to the low purposes of animal life : their end is to adore and acknow- ledge in a body, him, who is the Author of all the high advantages which we ehjoy in common together.. This public praise is. most honourable, and most essentially due to God ; it is necessary to main- tain in the world a sense of God, and of our due obligations to him, without which all society must be at an end. It is most edifying to our neighbour, kindling in him a desire to love and serve that great God of all creatures, and to invite angels and men to adore him to whom they owe all they are or have. Even they who are most backward and dull, cannot but be stirred up to fervour at the sight of so many devout persons assembled, adoring God together with hands and eyes lifted up to heaven. Who is there that is not here moved to prostrate himself in like manner to worship the Lord of all things, and to make him the same acknowledgments ? The fervent them-

THE LOBD’s DAT..

[Tb. L

selves must feel their devotion inflamed, and be filled with spiritual joy, to see others’ bless God, the common Lord and Father, witn their whole heart and in perfect union. This joy must enlarge our hearts if we have any feeling of divine zeal or charity. It ought to trans- port us beyond ourselves. “ Behold how good and how pleasant it is “ for brethren to dwell together in unity ! It is like the precious “ ointment on the head, that ran down upon the beard of Aaron to “ the skirt of his garment. As the dew on mount Hermon, or that “ which descendeth upon mount Sion. For there the Lord had “ commanded blessing and life for evermore.” (Ps. cxxxii. ; Hebr. cxxxiii.) God poureth down his blessings of all sorts, upon* a people thus united in his praises. “ Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem : praise u thy God, O Sion.” (Ps. cxlvii. 1.) “ Let his praise be in the

“ church of the saints.” (Ps. lix. 1.) The Psalmist calls Upon not only men, but all creatures both in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, to praise the Lord, (Ps. cxviii.) in one chorus with him.

The like motives engage us to return to God, in common, public homages of thanksgiving, together with those of praise. His blessings we enjoy in common together. The same sun gives us light and warmth : the fatness of the earth . is for all ; and we are all partakers of God’s grace, and wonderful redemption, and of the comforts of his holy providence. For all these benefits he has heaped upon us, we must join together to confess his goodness, declare the wonders he hath done in our favour, and offer him a common sacrifice of thanks. “ I will declare thy name to my brethren: in the midst of the “ church will I praise thee.” (Ps. xxii. ; Hebr. xxiii. 23 ; Hebr. ii. 12.) “ With thee shall be my praise in the great congregation : I

“ will pay my vows before them that fear him.” (Hebr. v. 25.) David celebrating his own deliverance, invites all the faithful to join him in a tribute of praise and thanks. “ I will bless the Lord at all “ times ; his praise shall be always in my mouth. — O magnify the “ Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.” (Ps. xxxi. 4.) “ Let the people, O God, confess to thee : let all the people give u praise to thee.” (Ps. lxvi. 4, 6.) “ O praise the Lord, all ye na- €t tions : praise Him, all ye people.” (Ps. cxvi. 1.) He desires, “ that €i God be praised in the congregation of the saints and cries out : il Let Israel rejoice in him that made him : and let the children of €i Sion be joyful in their king. Let them praise his name in choir.” (Ps. cxllx. 1.) To perform this duty the church has always had set hours of public prayer, at which, formerly, even the laity as much as circumstances permitted them, every day attended both in the night and day office, as is clear from St. Chrysostom, and other early Fa- thers ; and from St. Peter Damian, and other later pastors and* wri- ters. Origen tells us, that many Christians doubted not but that the angelical host observed these hours with the church on earth, to join their prayers and praises.a The strongest motives of zeal for the di- vine honour and glory, ought to engage all Christians to assist devoutly at every part of the solemn office, at least on Sundays and other fes-

fOrig. deOratp. 33, 35.

THE LORD’S DAT.

Ch. V.J

rivals. If our public homage is more glorious and acceptable to God, in like manner petitions which are put up by the whole church, are for more powerful than private prayer in obtaining the divine bless- ings. Maimonides mentions it as a maxim in the ancient Jewish synagogue, “ That the prayers of the congregation are always heard : “ but not so assuredly the prayers of particular persons in private.” In the old law God commanded the people, even from the remotest parts, to meet in the temple on the great festivals. On every Sab- bath and other festival, they failed not to assemble for public prayer in their neighbouring synagogues, or oratories. The very establish- ment of the church by Christ, his doctrine and practice, and that of the Apostles, show us the indispensable obligation and great importance of this duty. St. Paul prescribes, “ That in the church, first of all, “ supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for “ all men : for kings, and for all that are in high station, that we may “ lead a quiet and peaceable life, in all piety and chastity. For this “ is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour?’ (1 Tim. xi. 1, 2, 3.) Our Lord, by bidding us in prayer to say, “ Our Father,” puts us in mind, that we join in company in putting up our petitions to God, and that when we pray even in our closets, we remember that we are members of the church of Christ, pray as part of that body, hope to be heard, because we are in union with it, and communicate with our fellow members in prayer : also, that we ought to join them often in public prayer. God often grants to one man’s prayers that which he asks ; but to many who unanimously join in the same peti- tion, he gives more willingly, more largely, and more speedily, says S. Thomas Aquinas, with the ancient Latin interpreter, author of the ordinary Gloss on the Gospels, “ If when two of us on earth “ agree together to ask any thing,* it is granted by the Father of “ the Just, (for God delights in the agreement of his creatures, “ and is displeased with their discord ) what might we not expect, if “ not only a small number, but the whole Roman empire, agreed to- “ gether to sue for the divine favour ? They might pray to him, “ who said heretofore to the Hebrews, when the Egyptians pursued “ them. The Lord shall fight for you : and ye shall hold your “ peace (Exod. xiv. 14); and praying most unanimously, obtain “ greater victories than Moses did by his prayers to God for help.”* The requests of great cities or nations, are a kind of suppliant compul- sion : they are not ordinarily to be rejected ; and the efficacy of the prayers of the whole church is all powerful with God. All prayer of- fered by the ministers of the church, as her public representatives, draws a particular virtue from their public function and character, and from the faith and devotion of the whole church in whose name it is offered. This is exceedingly strengthened by the actual presence and union of all the congregation with their pastor. In it the de- fects and weakness of the dispositions of some are supplied by the fervour of others, and whilst all pray with the same spirit, they form but one voice and one prayer, which Christ, our mediator ana head,

! Origt him.} contra Cdsra, p. 424; St, Thomas, LecU ii, in 2 Tim*

48 tbs Lomste hat. [Ta. L

Cits, and so strongly recommends, by the price qf his adorable that it offers to God an holy and agreeable violence.

Christ, the Apostles, Councils, and Fathers, press upon us this great duty of public prayer, as a most powerful and uecessary means of obtaining all graces. Qur blessed Redeemer declares : Where

“ two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the 44 midst of them.” (Matth. xviii. 20.) He is in the midst of us in such assemblies, animating our prayers himself, in quality of our high priest, presenting them to his Father, and pleading for us, by show- ing the marks of the wounds he received for us, and by which he purchased us a title to mercy and all graces. (1 John ii. 1 ; Hebr. iv. 14 ; v. 25 ; vi. 20 ; vii. 11.) To these privileges of public prayer, St. Paul has an* eye, when he tenderly exhorts us never to fail join- ing in it, u not forsaking our assembly.” (Hebr. x. $5.) Would we learn how powerful public prayer is with God ? By it. St. Peter was miraculously delivered from his dungeon, and his chains broken. (Acts xii.‘8.) The Prince of the Apostles, who by his word, and by his very shadow as he passed, cured the most inveterate distempers, Stood indebted for his own preservation to the joint prayers of the congregation of the faithful. St. Paul, who had been admitted into the third heaven, and so often commanded nature, placed his confi- dence of the divine succour against dangers in the supplications of his flock to God for him, as St. Chrysostom observes.® 44 I beseech 44 you,” says the Apostle, 44 through our Lord Jesus Christ, and by “ the charity of the Holy Ghost, that you help me in your prayers “ for me to God, that I may be delivered from the unbelievers,” &c. (Rom. xv. 30, 31.) Also, for the divine blessing upon his preach- ing : “ That speech may be given me, that I may Open my mouth 44 with confidence, to make known tho mystery of the gospel.” (Ephes. vi. '190 1° this powerful assistance he trusted under all

difficulties: You helping withal in prayer for us” (2 Cor. i. 11.)

Upon this solicitude of so great an Apostle in procuring the prayers of the churches, St. Thomas Aquinas makes the following remark :b “ The prayers of many were more easily heard.” Whence the Gloss, t. e. an ancient Commentary, says :c 44 The Apostle very justly 0 begs the little ones to pray for him : for many little ones, when 44 they are assembled unanimously, become great, and it is impossible “ that the prayers of many should not be heard.” St. Chrysostom mentions the same example, writing as follows :d 44 If we are weak 44 when we pray alone, we become potent when assembled together “ in a body* By our union we overcome God. This, I say, that “ you may learn to be assiduous in constantly attending in the as- “ semblies. Allege not that wretched excuse, — Cannot we pray at 44 home ? You can ; but that prayer will not have such power and 44 virtue, as when the church in a body presents supplications with 44 one voice and heart, and the priests being present, offer the words 44 of the whole assembly. Peter and Paul are the towers and pillars

* St. Chrys. Horn, ii.j de Prophet. Obscurit, T. vi., p. 187, efl. B^n. b 2. 2d Qu. 83, a. 7? ad. 3. * Glossa in Horn,, xv*, 80, d Loco supra cifeto.

0**0

i? of church s yat 4 WW this jqipt prayer of the church that t< broke asunder the chains of the former, and opened the mouth of P the Utter."

If we weigh well these principles of our holy faith, we cannot but applaud the 2eal which ah holy pastors have shown, from the very tynea of the Apostles, in ^aborting all Christians to the utmost assi- duity aqd fervour in attending* public prayer* St. Ignatius, that fmqstolic ipan, that glorious martyr, and most illustrious disciple of the Prince pf the Appstles, St. Peter and Paul, repeats this precept at every turn in his epistles: “ Strive to hold assemblies together, to “ pay to God the homage of thanksgiving and praise. For when you “ often meet in the same place, the power of Satan is broken, he is ?! weakened, and the destruction he endeavours to bring upon us, is ?? kept off by the concord of your faith .”a And again : “ If the “ prayer of ope or two be of such force, how much more powerful ?‘ shall that of the Bishop, and the whole church be ? He that does “ not meet to join in it, in the same place, is proud, and has already “ passed sentence of condemnation against himself.”b And to the Smymeans: “ Follow your Bishop, as Jesus Christ followed the “ Father ; and the priests as the apostles i and reverence the dea- «? cops as the command of God. Let po man do anything of what “ belongs to the church without the Bishop. Let that Eucharist be “ looked upon as good and rightful, which is offered by the Bishop, !f or by him to whom the Bishop has given his consent. Wherever ?‘ the Bishop shall appear, there let the people also be : as where ?‘ Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic church.”0 The like precepts he repeats to the Philadelphians, d and others.6 In the Apostolical constitutions/ the Bishop is commanded to exhort the people “ to “ frequent the church twice every day, morning and evening, that t no one by absenting himself leave it defective, by withdrawing a “ member from the body of Christ. Divide not the body of Christ, ?* nor dissipate his members. Meet in prayer in the temple of the w Lord, especially on Saturday and Sunday ; go more diligently to “ church, to celebrate the praises of God,” &c* Tertullian,g speak- ing of Christians assembled in public prayer, as quoted above, says : “ We come in a formidable body, and close battalion, as it were to “ besiege, and do violence to God, and to storm heaven by the force “ of prayer ; such a force is the most grateful violence to God.” He says: “ We pray there for the emperors, and for their ministers; “ for powers, and for the state of the world $ for the quiet of things, “ and for the delay of the end of the world, or for averting temporal “calamities.” In the next chapter he repeats: “We pray to the “ eternal God for the health and safety of the emperors, that they “ may have a long life, a secure empire, a safe family, a valiant “ almy, a faithful senate,” &c.

S. Athanasius reasons thus on this point : “ Which do you think

* St Ignat ep. ad Ephes.* n. 13. b St Ignat, ep. ad Ephes., n. 6,

c St. Ignat ep. ad Smym., n. 7. d Ep. ad Fhiladelplu, n. 4.

e Ep. ad Magnesian o«. n. 7, ad Tralliaa. n. 7.

I Const Apoet, I ii., c. 59. f TertuJL Apot, c. 30t

THE LORD’S DAT.

[Tb. L

“ is best, that the people should meet in little separate companies, or “ be united together in a great church, to sing tne divine praises with “one voice, without any thing to disturb the sacred harmony? “ Nothing,* certainly, better represents the concord of a people, “ animated with the same spirit, than such assemblies. Nothing more “ powerfully inclines God to hear our prayers. For if, according to “ what Christ assures us, two persons united together in prayer, “ obtain of God whatever they ask, what must we think, when a “numerous people, joined together in the same place, formeth but “one voice, which answers Amen, tb all the prayers of the priest?* S. Chrysostom so often and so strongly inculcates this duty, that we beg leave again to hear him speak on it. Preaching to tne people of Antioch, he says,b “ You can pray at home indeed; but not as “you can in the church. You will not be so favourably beard when “ you pray single, as when you pray with your brethren. For there “ is more here ; consent of mind, and consent of voice ; and the bond “ of charity, and the prayers of the priests together. The priests, “ for this very reason, preside in the church, that the people's pray- “ ers which are weaker by themselves, laying hold on those that are “stronger, may together with them mount up to heaven. God “ himself declares, that he is appeased by the unanimous prayer of “the people. (Jonas iv. 11.) Learn from men, how great is the “ prevalence of the joint petition of a nation. Ten years ago, when “ certain persons were condemned to death for treason, a magistrate “ who had been convicted of the crime, being led forth to the place “ of execution, with a halter about his neck, the whole city ran to “the great square to beg his reprieve, and by their entreaties ob- tained the pardon of the criminal. You thus run with your wives “ and children, to appease the anger of an Emperor of the earth ; “ and have you not zeal to join the church, wnich is employed in “ rendering the King of heaven propitious to you ? When called “ upon to attend it, wherever you are, at home, in the throng of the “ market, or engaged in the most pressing affairs, ought you not “ more eagerly, more resolutely, and more courageously than a lion, “ break aU chains and hinderances, and repair to the common sup- “ plication ? Not only men, but even the angels adore and pray in “that awful place, at that tremendous hour; for the angels then “ showing the Lord's body, pray to God for men, as if they said : “We entreat your mercy for those whom you have prevented by “ loving them first, for those for whom you sacrificed this body, &c." The evidence and importance of this duty, extorted from an eminent Protestant writer, the following complaint :c “ He that without a 14 necessary cause absents himself from public prayers, cuts himself “ off from the church, which hath always been thought so unhappy a “thing, that it is the greatest punishment the governors of the “ church can lay upon the worst of offenders; and therefore it is a “ strange madness for men to inflict it upon themselves."

* St. A than., Apol. 1. ad Constant

b St Chrysost, hom. 3, contra Anonueos, p, 4 70, ed. Ben.

* Whole Duty of Man, Sund. vM § 11.

THE LORD^ DAT.

Ch.V.]

In this spirit of zeal for the divine worship, and penetrated with these holy maxims, the primitive Christians could not be deterred from assisting at the celebration of the divine mysteries by any hardships, loss of goods, imprisonment, or the most cruel torments and death. Amongst others, JEmilian, Governor of Egypt, in the reign of Valerian, a barbarous persecutor, made use of every means in his power to prevent the Christians from meeting at religious assemblies. Many he put to most cruel deaths, others he tortured with all the arts of exquisite cruelty, or kept in loathsome dungeons loaded with heavy chains. Yet no artifice, or violence, could deter the Christians from keeping their assemblies, and performing their duty to> God, to whatever dangers or torments this exposed them.* “ Hold no religious assemblies,” said he, to the holy Patriarch St. Dionysius, and the first martyrs, whom he put to death.b Again, many gave illustrious proofs of a like constancy under Maxinulian G&lerius in 304. Amongst others, Saints Satuminus, Dativus,6 and many others, at Abyssinia in Africa, being apprehended at their re- ligious assembly on Sunday, under the sharpest torments answered the Judge : “ The obligation of the Sunday is indispensable. It is “not lawful for us to omit the duty of that day. We never passed a 44 Sunday without meeting to prayer, &c.” In the acts of St. Dionysia, Virgin, and Martyr, at Thessalonica, read on the twentieth of December, we see the same intrepid zeal in assisting at the divine mysteries, in the heat of the most cruel persecutions. The very Pagan writers, who mention the Christians of the primitive ages, take particular notice of their fervour and assiduity in assembling on Sunday to prayer before sun-rise, at the imminent hazard of tneir lives, estates, and families.*1 If the domestic examples of our own immediate ancestors seem more moving, we ought to have before our eyes that in our country, during the greatest part of the reigns of Queen Elizabeth, King James I., Charles I., the Protector Crom- well, and Charles II., great numbers of Catholics, with the hazard of their lives and fortunes, travelled very far the whole night, and assembled in the most private corners before break of day, whilst others were asleep, to have the happiness of hearing mass, and per- forming their devotions on a Sunday. For this, many who were detected, were impeached ; the priests for high treason, those who had harboured them for felony, and suffered the confiscation of their estates, imprisonment, and death ; being either drawn, hanged, and quartered as traitors to their country, or hanged as felons.6 The continual dangers and hardships which the priests underwent, both in the lurking holes in which they lay concealed, where they were harboured, and in their journies, especially by night, and which the

* Eus. Hist-, 1. vii., c. 10. b This menace he afterwards changed,

sajing, especially to the clergy, u Renounce the Christian rites.”

c See their Acts, Febr. xL, and in Ruinart.

4 Plin. Junior, 1. x., ep. 97 ; Lucian, vel alius Dial. ; Philopatrii Amian. Marcell., L xxriii., in fine.

9 See Concertatio Catholicorum in Anglia, and Bishop Chaloner’s Lives of Missionary Priests, and many MS. accounts preserved in many private families at home, and colleges and religious houses abroad.

4b4 tb6fe*B biir.

laity qften altered in, and not easily to be imagined, since we have ho idea tif the manners of those times ; of these we have in authentic manuscripts, numberless striking instances, too long to be here men- tioned: instances not to be related, or called to mind without melt- ing into tears.

Amongst the apophthegms of the famous Marquis bf Worcester, in the reign of King Charles I., it is related, that in the great civil war, the Marquis marching once in Cardiganshire in Wales, near the ruins of a monastery, at Strata Florida^ a woman, who was a hun- dred years old, was presented to him, who had remembered the Monks in Catholic times, and had lived above threescore years, in great regret for the loss of the public service of the altar, and in con- stant private devotion, without seeing a priest, not thinking that any could be found in England. The Marquis asked her, “ When the K religion altered, you altered with the religion ?” She answered, “ No, master, I stayed to see whether or no the people of the new a religion Would be better than the people of the old, and could Seb i% them in nothing ; but grow worse and worse, and charity to wax colder

and colder, and so I Kept me to my old religion, I thank God, an4 “ mean, by God's grace, to live and die in it.” The gentleman of the house, who was a Protestant, testified : <c That she had always re- “ mained a Catholic, and could never be brought from her religion ; “ and that she would often steal into the church alone to say her “ beads, and other prayers, by herself.” When the Marquis told her, “ He would take her to Ragland Castle (his seat in Monmouth- * shire), Where she would find a priest, and might hear mass every “ day,"* she was so transported with joy, that she died in a very edi- fying manner before the next morning.5 The Marquis wept, when hb heard it the next morning, and said, “ If this poor soul died, “ where she might serve God, how joyfully will she serve him, in a “ place where shb will never die." The principal part of the public office of the church consists in the holy sacrifice of the Mass. First, By it we pay to God the supreme homage and worship due to his adorable sovereignty, in a manner, and by a victim proportioned to his infinite majesty; 2ndly, We, by this great sacrifice of thanks- giving, make him the most acceptable return of gratitude for all his benefits; 3dly, We offer him that holy victim* which is the most powerful means to obtain his graces and blessings ; and, 4thly, The most effectual means of propitiation and satisfaction for our sins. Therefore, zeal for God's honour; and the motive of our greatest spiritual interest, and our sanctification, strongly call upon us to ac-

* .When the Marquis asked her, “ When she had been at mass, or receive A 44 the sacrament ?” she answered, 44 that for sixty years she had never seen a 4* priest, but had never missed saying her office every day ; and being puzzled 44 now to make her Easter communion, had in the Paschal time received the 44 sacrament at the hands of the minister ; haring first prayed that God would f‘ change him into a priest to her on that day, which she believed his goodneif 4< did, to relieve her in her extreme distress* where her simplicity of heart ex- 44 cosed her action.”

b Dr. Tho. Baity, in the Apophthegms of the Marquis of Worcester. Apoph- thegm, 17* p. 26,

tta tf666> Ht.

0»fV;]

qWt btirsfclvWs the jjteaieSt devotion of this highest doty ahd su- preme homage of religion. Also the love of our Divine Redeemer presses US earnestly to correspond to that excess of lbve, in which he iibtitUted this wonderful mystery, and laid his injunction upon trs, saying: a Db this for a commemoration of me.” (1 Cor. xi*. 124; Lake xxii. 1 9.) The primitive Christians stood in need of no other prompter than the ardour of their own devotion, and the great sense of piety and religion with Which they were penetrated, to be carried with An holy zeal tb attend constantly the celebration of this great mystery. But the fervour of many beginning to wax colder, the church, by an inviolable law, commanded all her children to hear mAss atten- tively and devoutly bri all Sundays and holidays. Ancient councils decreed, that a Christian living in a city, who had failed to at- tfchd the public Office of tbe church, for three Sundays, should be cut Off from the communion of the church.* Though this sentence of excommunication is hot now carried into execution, not to join the faithful in assisting at the holy mysteries, is fur a man voluntarily to deprive himself of a principal benefit of the communion of the church, and a violation of her precept. The same is to be said of one who should be voluntarily distracted during a considerable part of thb holy sacrifice, especially its most essential and most sacred parts, the consecration, elevation, and communion. The mass prin- cipally mparit in these canons of the church, is the parish high-mass, Which was always attended with a prorle, or instruction, and other re- ligious rites and devotions. In the beginning of tbe church, all the faithful in a city met in the same congregation, in which the bishop, dr a priest deputed by him, presided, preached, and performed , the divine office and other rites delating to catechumens, penitents, &c. When the congregations grew too numerous, they were divided Into several parishes, each of which was governed by its own priest.6 All then heard their own parish mass. Though other churches, espe- cially of religious orders, have been since multiplied, and many ex- cellent practices of devotion, and methods of instruction established hi them, to tbe great advantage of piety, yet, that all may be United in the same common act of divine worship and prayer, with their pastor at their head, and may receive from him regular instruction, according to the established order of the church, all aTe botina frequently to assist at the parish public office, whatever other churches are visited at other hours, for the sake of particular devo- tibhs. The Council of Trent orders all Bishops to take care that the people be duly put in mind of the obligation every one is under of &oing to his parish church, at least on Sundays and great festi- vals, tp assist at the sacrifice of the mass, and hear the word of God, When It can be conveniently done.c This obligation is frequently mcblcated by tbe canons, and the most learned doctors of the canon law.d The ecclesiastical precept of hearing mass on Sundays, abso-

J Done, fifliber., Can. 21 ; Cone., T. ii. p. $72 ; Osins in Cone. Sardic. ib., p. 637 5 Bee Van. Espem* Part. 2, tit. 17.

Cbncrl Trid., Sess. 24, de Reform.*, c. 4 Sess. 22, de ohs. & evit.

* See Gonzales ih Decretal., L in., tit 29, tfr Parochi fir, cap. 2, in Domrtncis, T; iii., p* 326.'

THE LORD’S DAY.

[Tr.1.

lutely may be satisfied by hearing mass in any church, as canonists and theologians prove.* But it is agreed, b that for all to assist at their parishes on Sundays, and the chief solemnities of the year, is, and has ever been, the spirit of. the church, and is a duty strongly recommended by the most venerable authority, and special spiritual advantages : motives to which no sincere Christian can oe in- sensible. '

All who can, without great inconvenience, ought also to assist on Sundays at Vespers, or some other part of the public office for the afternoon, as the benediction of the blessed sacrament. In places where the opportunity is easy, by the custom of pious and timorous Christians, this is so far part of the law, that, when no kind of impe- diment pleads an excuse, it is not omitted without a venial sin.

The church, by commanding all to hear mass on Sundays, no way determines this to suffice for the whole sanctification of the day, as some have pretended : for by this it never could intend the least derogation from the Divine precept of sanctifying the whole day, a precept invariable of all ages and times. The contrary opinion the Council of Cambray, in 1604, condemns as an abuse injurious both to the divine and ecclesiastical precept.® . A person who, besides morning and evening prayers, has devoutly attended high mass with a prone or sermon, and vespers or equivalent devotions, if hindered, seems not to be charged with any degree of sin on this score. It is an excellent devotion to assist at all the canonical hours of the di- vine office in the church, at least on Sundays, according to the custom of the primitive Christians, when freed from persecution, d observed by kings and the laity in general in the middle ages.* Be- sides attendance upon the public office of the church, we ought on fes- tivals diligently to practice every other means of our sanctification, such as the frequent and devout use of the sacraments ; 2ndly, Ser- mons, reading pious books, and some degree of holy meditation, ne- cessary that the seed of the divine word be not choaked, and ren- dered unfruitful in us, and our affections be set upon and totally swallowed up by the world and its cares and pleasures ; 3rdly, The instruction of children, to give them a tincture of that Saving know- ledge of religion, and of those principles by which they are after- ward to govern the whole frame of their lives, and receive lasting impressions of virtue, which no worldly dangers, jio temptations will ever be able to efface ; 4thly, Self-examination and compunction, by which we enter seriously into ourselves, correct all disorders in our souls, and improve our hearts in all virtuous sentiments ; 5thly, The various exercises of charity, as by visiting the sick, or prisoners, com- forting the afflicted, giving larger alms than usual to the poor, &c. In the apostolical and primitive ages, contributions were made by the faithful on the Sunday for the relief of those that were in distress,

a Pontas V. Messe. Cas., 63 ; Billuart, p. 429 ; Sylvius, <fec.

b Suarez, Henno, and other regulars, <fec. e Cone. Camerac., tat 4, cap. 1.

4 Fleury, “ Mceurs des Chretiens Thomasin, des Fetes, iii., c. 6, p. 649 ; and especially, “ Dissertation sur l’andenne maniere de garder les Dimanches <fe Fetes,” in Mons. de Salengre de l’Oratoire, in his “ Memoires de Literature <fe d'H^taire,” T. L, p. 1. * St Pet Damian, Opusc. 10, dec.

Chap. V.] the load’s day. 49

of which mention is made by St. Paul, (1 Cor. xvi. 1, 2,) by St. Justin in his Greater Apology, Tertullian, and other fathers : Whence St. Cyprian says : “ Thinkest thou that thou keepest the Lord’s Day, “ without bringing thy mite to throw into the treasury of the poor.”* Lastly, on festivals we ought to enlarge our private devotions in our closets, or with our families, especially in hymns of divine praise and love, and in thanksgiving for the works of Creation and Redemption, and the mercies of God towards us, general and particular.6 Sun- days thus observed would have a wonderful influence on each ensuing week, and on the whole lives of Christians.

All these Christian duties have indeed a share in our attention every day : but whatever the distraction and hurry of worldly con- cerns, or human frailty and sloth, left then imperfect, must be sup- plied with the utmost fervour of which we are capable on festivals, on which, disengaged from all hinderances, we are called upon to give our whole attention to the divine praises, and to the sanctification of our souls. “ We are bound,” says St. Gregory the Great,0 “ to “refrain from all work on the Lord’s Day, and to give ourselves up “ entirely to the exercises of holy prayer, that if we have sinned by “ negligence in any part of the six days, this may be expiated on the “ day of our Lord’s resurrection.” The same is repeated by Pope Nicholas I., in his instructions to the new converted Bulgarians.*1 Where he adds : “ that a Christian ought on this day to attend to tl psalms and spiritual hymns and prayers ; make his offerings ; ho- " nour the memory of the saints, excite himself to an imitation of “ their virtues, hear sermons, distribute alms, all which if any one ‘ shall neglect, and spend his time in vain conversation, or abuse his “ rest from lawful labour by employing it in worldly vanities, it would “ have been better for him to work with his hands on that day, that “ he might have had a supply to afford some charitable relief to those “ that are in want.” And in the body of the canon law is inserted the following decree or canon : “ On the Lord’s Day no business is “ to be attended to, but that of the divine service. No work must “ be done on that day, but it is to be entirely consecrated to prayer, “ psalms, and spiritual canticles.”*5 St. Antoninus also explains the duties of the day in the following terms :f “ The holiday is to be “spent in the spiritual works of prayer, holy meditation, hearing “ holy things, pious reading, alms-deeds, and the like. As also in

4 St Cypr., 1, de Oper. <fe Eleem.

b The lathers and councils often inculcate that married persons ought to live continent on Sundays, all festivals, and fast-days. This was long a precept of the church, and is still recommended as an holy counsel by St Charles ana the Roman catechism. See Thomassin, Tr. des Fetes. 1. ix.,p. 146 ; Ville-Thierry, “ Vie de Gens Mariez Loriot snr l’Epitre du Second Dimanche du Careme, T. i., p. 431 ; Baillet, Hist da Careme, c. lv., <fec. c St. Greg., M., 1. xiii., ep. 1, T. ii. p. 215, ed. Ben. d Nic. 1, resp. ad Consults Bulgararum, c. 10, 11 ; Cone. T. viii., p. 522. c Cap. Jejunia, dist. 3, de Consecratione .

f St. Antonin. 2 p., tit 9, cap. 7, § 4. St Thomas also explains at largo the exercises and duties by which a Christian is bound to sanctify the Sabbath, Opuac, 7, de DecalogoT

THE X.OBD’8 HAY.

[Tb. L

“compunction and confession of sins, in which men jure to call to an “account wfi£t fhey did on 6 {her days,, in which (nef were taken “up in worldly employs. It is the Sabbath of rest, in which you ^ shall afflict your souls by a perpetual religion, (Levit. xvi. 31,) “ viz., by contrition, as Origen expounds it ; likewise in hearing “mass, the divine office and sermons; andf in instructing and cor- “ rectinff 6ur brethren, especially of pur own family. Of this holy “ Job' affords us an example, (Joh i. 5j) when the clays were gone “round, Job sent and sanctified them, t. e. on the first ,day of the ** week, he exhorted and corrected his children, as St. Thomas 6x- “ plains it ; and he offered prayers and sacrifices for them. Alms also “are to be given more liberally on this day. According to Leviticus, “ two lambs were to be offered on the Sabbath ; on other days only one “ In an holocaust. Tobit having prepared a dinner on the festival, “sent his son to call the poor to eat if wifh them, fiut aids ! men “ nbw are taken up on festivals in the care of their bodies. The “ women spend much time in dress to lay snares for the destruction “ of souls. Servants are busy in dressing meat more daintily than “ on other days. Men of an inferior condition run about to amuse “ themselves with hearing news or seeing vain shows. All seem “ abandoned to do evil ; and what they have gained by their labour “ <>r industry in the week, they throw away on holidays in (he ale- “ house, in diversions, or at play, rather than in alms. 6 fhf»per- “ verse, abuse of things among men, and the irreparable loss of noly “ time! 0 employment most pleasing to the devil! Of such' profa- “ nations Jeremy said, (Lament, i. 7,) Her enemies (t. e. the devils, “ the most cruel enemies of the soul and of the church,) have seen “ her, and mocked at her Sabbaths, t. e. her festivals, which she “consecrated, not to God; but to herself, to her belly, and to (he “ devil. Alas f now often do Christians, by sloth, debauchery, or “intemperance, make these days festivals of the devil?*' God said to the Jews, “ your new moons, and Sabbaths, and your festivals my “soul hateth” (Isa. i. 1 4.) Upon which words Origen gives this excellent comment : “ The Lord calls these days my festivals , so “ long a§ they were kept pure and holy ; but when they were pro- « faned and defiled by sin, he no longer says mine , but t/dur fes - “ tivals ”*

The sharp complaint which God made of the Jews for the pro- fanation of their festivals, falls so much more heavily on our Chris- tians, as our solemnities are more holy, in proportion as the mysteries which we commemorate are more sacred ; and ad our excesses out- do theirs in our age of more refined and more extravagant vice. This sacrilegious Abuse of the very means of grace, is the sin which God declares he can no longer bear : “ My soul hateth youf neW “ moons and your solemnities, they are become troublesome to me : “I am weary of bearing them.” (Isa. i. 14.) S. Thomas Aquinas lays down the rules to be observed in the sanctification of the Lord’s Day and other festivals, in the following words :b “ The corruptible

* Orig. in Number, b S, Thomas, OpusCul. 7. de Decalogo*

<c lMdy fo * lotd Upon the sool, and the ^pthly habitation presseth “ down the mind that museth upon many things.” (Wisdom h. 16.) Therefore is man in this corruptible state always weighed dawn te what is beneath him, unless he strive to raise himself above perish- able things, for this certain times must be allotted. Same make this their employ at aU times. “ I will bless the Lard at aU times t “ his praise shall be always in my mouth. (Ps. xxxiii., Hebr. xxxiv. 2.) “ Pfay without qeasing. (1 Tbes. v. 17.). These keep an uninter- “ rupted Sabbath on earui. Others do this at eertain intervals inr M the day : seven times a day I have given praise to thee. ( Psalm “ cxviii. 164.) And have also a set day appointed, that the love of “ God may not grow cold in their breast. If thou call the Sabbath “ thy delight, and make it thy glory to glorify him by seeking his “ holy ways, then shah thou Be delighted in the Lora, and I will “lift thee up above the high places of the earth, and will feed thee “with the inheritance of Jacob thy father. (Isa. lviii. 12, 14.) “ Then shalt thou abound in delights in the Almighty, and shall lift “ up thy faee to God ; thou shall pray to him and be will hear thee $ “atid thou shalt pay thy vows. (Job. xxii. 26, 27.) For this day “ is appointed and sanctified by God, not to be spent in play and di- “ versions ) hut in praising God and prayer. It is chiefly to be eni- “ ployed in three things : 1st, In offering sacrifices ; the daily “sacrifices in the old law were commanded to be offered double. “(Numb, xxviii. 9; see 1 Paral. xxix. 17.) We must also make “ to God offerings of all that we are or possess : our souls by com* “punction for sin, (Ps. 1. 19,) and praying for the divine graces and “ benefits. A festival is always a day of spiritual joy, which prayer “ creates in soul ; wherefore prayers must he continued long and “ with fervour. The offering of the body must he made by all good “ works, by a preparation of fasting or penance of the eve. An offer- “ ing of our substance or goods is made by alms, which ought to be “doubled on festivals, because these are days of universal joy. “ (2 Esdr. viii. 11, 12.) Do not forget to do good and to eemmu- “ ideate; for with sueh sacrifices God k well pleased* (Hebr* “xiii. 16.) Send portions to them that have not prepared for them- “ selves, because it is the holiday of the Lord. (2 Esdr. viii. 10.) “ 2ndly, The festival is to be spent in hearing the word of God, “ and making it the subject of our study and meditation : not “knowing the Voices of the prophets, which are read every Sab- “bath. (Acts xiii. 27.) He that is of God heareth the words “of God. (John viii. 47.) Thirdly, Festivals are to be filled up “ with spiritual exercises : on them it is especially said by God, “Be still, and see that I am God. (Ps. xlv. 11.) As the body “ when wearied seeks refreshment by rest, so does the soul, whose “ centre and rest is in God. There remaineth therefore a rest, or a “ keeping of Sabbath, to the people of God. (Hebr. iv. 9.) When “ I go into my house, I will repose myself with her (the divine “ wisdom). (Wisd. viii. 16.) Before this soul must rest from sin. “ The heart of the wicked man is like the raging sea which cannot “ rest, and the waves thereof cast up dirt and mire : There is no

E 2

THE LORD’S DAT.

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u peace to the wicked, saith the Lord God. (Isa. lvii. 20, 21.) She “ must rest, 2dly, from the tumult of her passions, for these wage a *• furious intestine war. (GaL v.) And from the tumult and distrac- “ tion of worldly affairs. Martha, Martha, thou art too solicitous “ about many things, but one thing is necessary. (Luke x. 41.) “ How many saints left all things to attend to this alone ; for this is “ that precious jewel, to purchase which a man sells all that he has. “ (Matt, xiii.) This rest is eternal life, and eternal enjoyment. This “ is my rest for ever and ever : here will I dwell, for I have chosen “ it.” (Ps. cxxxi. 14.) This heavenly contemplation, the eternal employment of the blessed in heaven, we anticipate in, or prepare our- selves for, by the holy rest of the Sabbath. It is also the most es- sential homage of our lives to God, apd the means of obtaining his blessings and graces upon our souls. But alas ! Christians, instead of securing to themselves provision of the divine graces and blessings for the rest of the week, by a religious observance of the Sunday ; instead of correcting their disorders, instructing themselves in every duty, and penetrating their hearts with the holy sentiments of faith, with the maxims of the gospel, and with a true Christian spirit ; in- stead of animating their hope, kindling in their breasts the fire of divine love, withdrawing their affections from creatures, by contem- plating the riches of eternity ; in a word, instead of improving them- selves in religion, and in every virtue on this holy festival, by refus- ing to God on it that tribute of honour which is, on so many titles, due to him, and of which he is so jealous; and by converting the greatest sources of divine grace, and the most powerful means of their sanctification, into the most fatal maledictions, they make these festivals the main causes of their criminal lives, and ^al of their eternal reprobation. Hence infidelity, irreligion, impiety, profane- ness, ignorance of Christian duties, and a worldly spirit of pride, vanity, ambition, covetousness, and pleasure, spread sUch a desolation over the face of Christian nations, that few are to be found in whose lives any traces of the true spirit of Christ can be discerned : And he who neglects to sanctify the Lord's Day by exercises of devotion and religion, is in danger of forgetting, before the end of the week, that he is a Christian. A religious observance of festivals is the great means to put a stop to the growth of irreligion, and to the dreadful decay of all sense of piety and true virtue, with which se- veral countries are threatened, and of which we already discover amongst ourselves the most alarming symptoms. If any zeal for God's honour, or our own sanctification and eternal welfare, still ani- mates our languishing faith, let it rouse us to fervour in this essen- tial religious duty, which we may call the head of all the rest, and the means by which they are to be quickened, entertained, and con- stantly supported.

God instituted this festival to be the constant mark of the grace and honour w^Bive of being his by his holy faith and vocation, and the test of our xrevotion and zeal in serving him, as he gave the law of the Sabbath to the Jews, that it might be a public continual testi- mony of his alliance, and of the spiritual privileges and favours which

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Ch. V.] THE LOBD’S DAT. 53

they enjoy by his distinguishing and singular predilection. (Exod. xxxi. 3.) As the Jew, therefore, was known by his Sabbath, so is the true Christian by his manner of keeping the Sunday. This is the proof of his piety and religion. And as the Christian law is far more holy and more perfect than the Jewish, so ought his zeal and devotion m sanctifying the great festival of the law of grace to be far more ardent, and more remarkably edifying to others. Those strive to solemnize the king's birth-day, or triumph, with the greatest affec- tion and pomp, who have received of him the highest favours, or are more nearly attached to his person. Sunday, being the Lord's Day, and a festival instituted by himself in his own honour, with what ardour and devotion ought not every one to celebrate it, the Christian especially, who is a man of God, nis servant, his son, the heir of his eternal kingdom, and so many ways infinitely indebted to him, and de- voted to his honour, and enrolled in his service ? “ As if a person could u be a Christian, without giving proofs of his zeal in keeping the Lord's “ Day,” says a learned prelate of the fourth century.* This zeal a Christian must show on it by his earnestness in instructing himself, his children and family, in the great mysteries of our faith, m its holy maxims, and in all practical duties. So careful were the Jews in this particular, that though the ordinances of the law were so numerous and so burthensome ; yet the people, and even their children, were so well skilled in them, that if any one amongst them was asked con- cerning these laws, he would more easily tell them all than his own name, as Josephus assures us.b Our zeal in sanctifying the Sunday must appear, 2ndly, in our devotion in approaching often to the holy sacraments, and in our diligent endeavours, by self-examination, com- punction, and good resolution, to cleanse our consciences, extirpate vicious habits, reform our affections, and amend whatever is amiss in our actions ; 3rdly, by pious reading and holy meditation, in order to kindle in our breasts all chaste desires and heavenly affections ; 4thly, By our fervour in devout prayer. How pathetically did Holy David complain, when in banishment he could not approach the sanctuary ! How earnestly did he sigh to join the assembly of the saints in prais- ing God together in his tabernacle, and to partake of the divine or- dinances, by which the grace of God and his holy spirit were con- veyed unto men ? (Ps. lxxxiii. ; Hebr. lxxxiv.) “ O how amiable are “ thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ? My soul longeth, yea even “ fainteth for the courts of the Lord : My heart and flesh rejoice th " for the living God.* And again : “ One day in thy courts is u better than a thousand* (Ps. lxxxiii. 10.) How earnestly does he at other times invite men to bear him company fn paying to God the public homage due to his adorable sovereignty, and the common tribute of thanksgiving, praise, and love ? In holy transports of fer- vour he cries out : “ Bring to the Lord glory and honour : Bring to “ the Lord glory unto his name. Bring up sacrifices^nd come into “ his courts : Adore ye the Lord in his holy co(Pts. (Ps. xcv. ; “ Hebr. xcvi. 8, 9*) Come let us adore and fall down and weep be-

• Euseb. Csesar, b Jos. adv. Appion, ]. ii. n« 9, p. 390>,

♦4

TfiE LOfcf/S DAY*

“ fort the Lort ear Maker : for be is the Lord ojir Ood. (IPs. u xciv. 5 Hebr. xev. 6.) Enter into bis gates with praise, and Cote u his courts with hymns : give glory to him, and bless his name* u {Ps. xcix. ; Hebr. c* 4.) Let them exalt the Lord in the eougre-

* Ration of the people, and praise him in the assembly of the an-

* eifettts. (Ps. cvi. ; Hebr. cvii. 32.)

The angels and other heavenly spirits, in one choir, sound with- out interruption the praises of God in the most profound adoration, in transports of sweet and holy joy and love ; exerting their whole strength and all their powers, they repeat : Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God of hosts. On festivals aH the servants of God on earth join their voices with the heavenly host, to form one universal con- cert of the heavens and the earth. Sequestered from the noise and tumult of all woridly business, and disengaged from all tnnderances and distraction, we must hasten, with the greatest ardour of which we are capable, to unite our voices in the whole attention of our Souls on God, and drown in him all our powers, and feeing already as k Were by a kind of anticipation of our future state of eternal con- templation of God in bliss, raised in spirit into heaven, take part and fill our place in this holy and glorious choir : prostrating ourselves in spirit, in the most profound annihilation of ourselves before God, the sovereign Lord and maker of all things, we must adore and praise him ; return him our best thanks for all his benefits, raise our hearts to love him, deplore our past ingratitude and infidelities, and conse- crate ourselves, with all our strength, to his service. Our God is eternal, without any beginning or end ; in his duration he always was, is, and will be, and without succession in himself, or in his attributes, fcq-exists to aH differences of time, ever the same ; contemplating the perpetual vicissitudes and changes of creatures to which he subjects them, he remains for ever unchangeable ; filling the heavens and the earth, present to every part ; moving and operating in and with every creature, he, by the immensity of his being, infinitely transcends the bounds of all place. Essentially independently of aH creatures, he possesses sovereign happiness in himself and from himself alone-: boundless in all perfections, he is every way infinite. Gf his power, magnificence, glory, wisdom, goodness, mercy, justice, and love, there is no end. He is incomprehensible both in his essence and in each attribute, to the highest and most perfect creatures. Unsearchable in aH his ways, and raised infinitely above the reach of aH finite undertandings. Sovereignly holy in his will, and all his counsels, which are sanctity itself, and the unerring rule and standard of all justice. To his supreme dominion all things are subject, nor can re- bellious sinners or devils in the least withdraw or shelter themselves from his absolute power and authority over them. Perfectly free, he produces vdrnt he pleases, and disposes all things as he pleases ; but 'always by the rules of infinite wisdom, sanctity, and justice. Such is «the God of glory and mercy. Is it not just that all creatures should adore frim, and make the most humble acknowledgment of his infinite greatness and excellency ? In the most profound humility we pros- trate ouredves before his sovereign majesty. Wemuat particularly

TS* lord's daat.

Ch.V.]

eonfees and praise his goodness, and make him the most thukfd re- turn we are kble for the wonderful works of the creation of the world, and of our redemption#*

Aif things that are he created. At his word they started out of nothing, and stood forth in their order, arrayed with beauty, and finished in the highest perfection, by which, on every 9ide, they dis- play the infinite power and wisdom of him who framed them. When the heavens and the earth were finished, the dwelling-place, or house, being made ready, the master, for whose uses and convenience the world was raised out of nothing, and so magnificently adorned, was to be introduced. Man was therefore created, and stamped with

• U has beep a custom, established in the church from the beginning, to pray op Sundays standing. This rule is mentioned by St. I renseus, T ertuRian, Cle- ment of Alexandria,St. Cyprian, St. Peter of Alexandria, ep. Can. xv.T. LConc.

р. 967, the .General Conned of Nice, St. ,Hilary, St. Basil, St. ppjjhaajog, ftt. Jgxomp, St Aysfip, C(isaian, the ,Counci) of ^Trullo, tha,t pf Tpu.rs^n tie time pf Charles the threat, quoted by Bingliam, B. xiii. ch. 8 ; yhomassin, fips testes, L3l c. 16, p.' 362, Ac. The reason is assigned by the author of the questions and answers, among the works of &t Justin (itesp ad. Quest 116), .that by this jre ren^ppt, .that through Christ in his jesprreCtiqn we are restored p> grace, mi peUv^red from our sins and t^e powers of death- Penitents were excepted from fbls privilege, and prayed kneqmig, even on Sundays. Cone. Cartha£. iv.

Christians often lifted up their hands and eyes to heaven at prayer, held their h&pd* unfolded in token of simplicity, as JertulKan mentions, ( ApqL c. ;**£«) ppd frequently laid them expanded transverse in the form of .a cross, ffyfi attvlunws tantiuti , ted ctiam expaiufimup, et Dominica Pat stone modulamur ; says the same author. (Tert. de Orat. c. xi. ; See Henr. Vales. Not in Hist. Eccl. Eusebn, I. fv.

с. 14.)

Jt wus.also ithe custom jpever to fast on Sundays, not even in Lent ; because is ^festival of spiritual joy r We keep the Lord’s Bay a festival of joy, because ** of him who rose upon it,” says St. Peter, bishop of Alexandria (ep. Can. xv. Cone. T. l. p. 96.) The Marcionites, Maniqhees, and Priscillianists, fasted on the Lord’s l)ay, because they denied the resurrection of Christ. This practice, founded on this or the like superstitious' motives, was for hidden .under pain pf.ex- comjnuni cation, in a collection of canons printed with the wo^ks of ,§t. Leo, cap.

^1/. See Canon Apost. cap. 64 ; Con. Gpngren. can. 18.; Cone. Bracar. 1, can. 4; Const Apo*t. I. v. c. 20 ; S. Epiph. jSxpos. Fidei, 1. iii. adv. Horses, h. 22 j>. 1106 : S. Aug. ep. 36, ad Casulan, c. 11, n. 26 and 26, T. ii. p. 78; St. JH 4ary, Pxol. in Psalm xi. xii. p. 8, Ac. Even the monks faated not on Sunday

Ssgian. ^-stit J. ii. c. 18, 19, A Collat. xxi. cap. 19.) yet where there yvps no ger of sup^tition, heresy, or scandal, it has been sometimes done.* yp- fe observes (ep. 28, ad Lpcimnm), that St. Paul, and others with him, fastqd ad a Sunday. Celerinus, the confessor, fasted on Sundays, and in Easter "time, A>r the apostacy of his sisters. (Celerinus. ep. 21, ad Lucian, inter Cypriahicus, p. /16.) Theologians yet cpndexrm the affectatiqnof tangling opt a Sunday for faptpig : but agree with St. Austin, ep. 36. ad Casulan. c. 11, iw8, period cannot De reprehensible who should continue on Sundays a fast; begun for several days, or on extraordinary occasions. The discipline oi the church' has Aom the beginning excepted not only Sundays from the law of fasting ; .but like- pise all the^tfihal feme? A® an emblem pf opr spiritual jpy pp Wttfi (&e St fjpipbqmr ,&C., loco cit.) St. Epiphapips adds Chn^tpip-day, wMdii^pri- Vfleged with an exemption even from abstinence, though it (alls on a fnaay, ppd the whole Christmas- time from fasting. Certain other great holidays, hi ’our Lord's ascension, Ac., have been exempted from Casting id some" austere feli- jms grdw.apd particular canqps ; but nqtpll 'holidays? -the joy ufjpfttiv^s hmng TOiritDal, and not ftp of

lisle, Hutotre Dogmahquc §• Morale du Jeune, 1. m, ch. 3, p. 233,

THE LOBD’S DAT.

[Tr. I.

the divine image. How noble is the being ? How wonderful is the frame even of the body, which God hath bestowed upon us ? How exquisite is the workmanship, and how admirable the contrivance of the organs of each sense, and of every other part ? How excellently adapted to all our wants, to all the purposes of our being, and to the dominion over other creatures, which he has conferred upon us? How noble is the erect posture of our bodies, by which we cast our eyes all around us, and not only take a view of all the ravishing beauties of the earth, but also behold the heavens, our glorious country, the region of happy spirits, and our future dwelling-place, in a state of immortal glory and overflowing bliss. How amazing is the faculty of speech, which man enjoys above all other creatures 1 By which we mutually communicate every improvement, and make known to each other every thought of our mind, every desire of our heart, and every want which we feel ! But all this falls so far short of the excellence of our soul, or mind, that by this we are raised to a superior order of being, and bear the image of the Deity, the like- ness of God himself, being spirits, as God is the most pure spirit. With what admirable powers or faculties is our soul endowed ! With understanding, or a thinking faculty, which reaches the heavens, pe- netrates the lowest abysses, ranges through all beings, apprehends the most abstracted and spiritual objects, distinguishes falsehoods, and is capable of discerning both divine and human truths. With a memory which retains such a multitude and variety of things, with- out being crowded or confused, and presents them to us distinct and clear, when we have occasion to recall them ; with free-will, by which we are masters of ourselves and our actions, and are capable of moral good. These powers, wonderful as they are, come not up to many other excellencies of which they are the subject, and which the soul possesses, or is capable of ; such are immortality, virtue, grace, sanctity, the knowledge and love of God, the enjoyment or posses- sion of him and his infinite perfections in eternal glory. To God we owe a continual homage of praise and thanksgiving, for his wonderful mercy in thus creating us, and this vast universe for our use, as i^ expressed in the Psalms, xcii. (Hebr. xciii.) and xciv. (Hebr. xcv.) &c. Likewise for all the other benefits of his providence, general and par- ticular. God’s glorious image being miserably defaced in us by sin, He mercifully redeemed us. By the death of our Saviour, and by his triumph over sin and hell, completed in his glorious resurrection, he has reinstated us much more wonderfully than he first created us out of nothing. With hearts overflowing with holy joy, and in rap- tures of adoration, love, and gratitude, for this infinite benefit, crowned with so many other incomprehensible graces and mercies, we praise his holy name, particularly on this festival, for which we may recite the Song of Zachary, the last Psalms of Lauds, &c. This must always be a main object of our devotions at the sacrifice of the Mass. And we are bound in return to make to God the most per- fect sacrifice of ourselves, in sentiments of compunction and love, and to endeavour to sanctify our souls on festivals by most fervent prayer, and frequent devout use of the sacraments.

THE LORD’S DAT.

Ch. V.]

Supplications for ourselves, families, and the whole church, make up another essential part of our devotions on Sundays and festivals. In our closets, or in the church, we ought to take on these days some little time for self-examination, and for renewing our good re- solutions in regard to every particular duty ; also for holy medita- tion, pious reading, or sermons, and for tne instruction of others under our care. These, and the like duties, mentioned above, if duly complied with, will make our festivals truly Sabbaths of the Lord, and have a powerful influence over our whole lives ; for he who thus sanctifies the Sunday, will always live in great watchfulness over his own heart, in the spirit and practice of religion, and in the careful discharge of all the duties of his respective calling. His de- votion on Sundays will always renew and much increase his fervour, in continually advancing in divine love, and in the perpetual sacrifice of his heart, and all his actions to God. The caution which is given us by the word Remember , placed before this commandment above all the rest, intimates, that if this be duly attended to, it will greatly enable us to keep all the rest ; but if this is negleeted, other Christian duties will be soon forgot. It shows this holy law to be of the high- est importance in the duties of religion — the first of all others in a Christian life.

Creative*

ON THE HOLY TIME OF ADVENT.

CHAP. I.

On the Institution of Advent.

Advent* is a time of penance and devotion before Christmas, ap- pointed by the church, to serve as a pre|>aration to that great so- lemnity of the birth of Christ. Festivals were commanded by God himself in the old law, to commemorate his principal benefits and

• This Latin word signifies the coming, because it ushers in nnd prepares ns to celebrate worthily the festival of the coming of God, our Redeemer, in the flesh.

On the institution of Advent, see du Cange in Glossario Latino, v. Adventus, et in Glossario Graeco, v. IT apovaia Menard, not. in Sacromentarium, S. Greg. M. P. 215. vel. inter Opera S. Greg. M. T. iii. p. 445. Edm. Martenne de ant. Ecclesiae Discipline in Divinis Officiis, p. 65. Theoph. Raynaud Oj>. T. ii. p. 479. Thomasrin Tr. des Fetes, c. iv. p. 203. <fcc. et Tr. du Jeune, 1. i. c. 23. p. 174. et p. 2. c. 20. p. 485. et Hist, ne V A vent Joan. Freder. Meyer. Ecloga de Dominicis Adventus, at Gripswald in Pomerania, An. 1701. Also, Eclogie Evangelic® Meycro-Neumeisterianae, Hamburgi, T.i. sub initium. Abbot de Lisle Hist. Dogm. de Jeune Moral, de Jejnnio Card. Lambertini post. Bened. XI V. in JnstitutioDibua, T. i. In. XI. de Adventu. Gavant. Comment, et Bre- viar. de Adventu. Merat. ibid. Goar. Leo AUatius.

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mercies, that men might 4>e more perfectly* instructed in them, hear them always in mind,' be always thankful for them, and stirred up to dispose themselves to receive the fruits of these wonderful mysteries. The festivals of the new law of grace, ought to be celebrated w\th so much the greater preparation and devotion, as the mysteries which we commemorate transcend those of the old law, which, how wonderful soever, were no more than weak types and figures, and empty shadows of them. We must present ourselves before God in the spotless robes of purity and sanctity, and in the spirit and dis- positions of the most ardent devotion, especially on thebe days which are emblems of the eternal Sabbath of the heavenly Jerusalem, which we ?haU celebrate with tA\ the elect in uninterrupted hymns of adoration and praise. On these solemnities the whole people of God on earth, unite their tears, prayers, and sacrifices of adoration and thanksgiving to glorify God, for his unspeakable mercies. With what fervour ought we, their fellow members, who have the happi- ness tp sha^e so plentifully in these blessings, to join them in this solemn duty and tribute ? The immense treasure of divine graces, purchased for us, and offered to us by these sacred mysteries, will he imparted to us in so much larger measures, as we shall present ourselves on them more fervently purified and prepared ; ahd shad more earnestly implore the divine mercy, and offer purer homages of thanksgiving, adoration, and praise, in acknowledgment of these in- comprehensible heaveply favours. For this end, vigils or eves are appointed as a preparation for great festivals. Lent, as a more solemn and longer vigil, or preparation before Easter ; and Advent before Christmas, or the coding of Christ ip the flesh, the source of all the other great mysteries and graces of our redemption.

Advent consists of four weeks, or at least, four Sundays, which commence from the Sunday nearest St. Andrew’s-day, whether be- fore or after it, from the 27th of November to the 3rd of December inclusive. Its institution seems as old as that of Christmas-day, though the discipline of the church, in the manner of celebrating it, has not been the sa;me in all places and times. It was fox several ages of Jforty days, or six weeks, in the same manner as Lent, anfl dfor some time kept with a rigorous universal fast, in some places of jjrecgpt, in others of devotion. The church of Milan, tenacious of its ancient rites of discipline, observes to this day, six weeks of Ad- yent, which was the ancient cpstom of the great church of Toledo, •and of all Spain (which followed the Mozarahic rite an the liturgy, also of the churches in France before Charlemagne, as Martenne and Mabillon show from authentic monuments.* 'Hence in the Ambro- sian rite at Milan, six Sundays of Advent stand }n the liturgy, and there the first Sunday of Advent is always the Sunday after the feast of •St. Martin, as RudolphusTungrensis observes,1*. which we also.find in the

* Marfggne pe ant. Monachprum ritfbus. 1. in. p. 1. Item ancienne Discipline j|e FlSglise sur les Qflfices,,ch. 103.

b Radulph. fungrens. Proporitioae &vi. Ambro^ajm. apnd,

Pamelimn, * 1 '•**’ *'N ‘ ' • '

ch.f.g

llesarabic frturgy. Though in flhe Gdarion liturgy, used at Home before St. Gregory dhe Great, only fire Sundays occur in Advent, which AmaUrius confirms. The Council of M*oon in France in 581a affirms Advent to be kept from St. Martin's -day to Christmas, whiob, without counting the Sundays, comprises the time of forty daya, the same as oi Lent. From the capitulars of the emperor Charlemagne, framed in several councils, or from their decrees, Advent is said to consist of forty days, according to the custom of the faithful, and the practice of our ancestors :b long after this St. Peter Damian in Italy,0 mentions Advent to have been a fast of forty days. Yet before, and about chat time, some churches began Advent, not in the middle but about 4b e end of November, and kept it, as we now do, only of gbout four weeks, a* appears from Ratberius, bishop of Verona, in 031 ^ and from Pope Nicholas I.,® who, in bis answers to the Bul- garians, reckons Advent an abstinence and fast of four weeks. This fast also is confirmed by Amalarius ;f and in England and Ireland, Advent anciently consisted of forty days, on which the Monks eat only once a day, in the evening, as in the fast of Lent.® It was re- duced to four weeks in this kingdom about the tenth century, when the latter Roman rite was introduced here : thus we find it in the old misqal used in England before the Norma? conquest, taken from the Roman one of that age, which it much resembles.h Almost the whole Larin church, in conformity to the Roman, has long since reduced Advent to ‘the uniform rule of four weeks, or at least four Sundays, beginning about the end of November, from the Sunday nearest the feast of St. Andrew.

It was formerly observed, even by the laity, with abstinence from flesh, and with a rigorous fast, in some places by precept, in others of devotion, and without any positive obligation, though universal. The First Council of Macon, in 581 , orders in Advent, from St. Martin’s 4o Christmas-day, three Casting days a week, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays ; but the whole term of forty days was observed with a strict abstinence from flesh meat. St. Peter Damian mentions in 1970, Advent to have been a fast of forty days. Aistulphus, King of the Lombards, in 753, when he settled the waters of Nonantula on that monastery, reserves to himself out of them forty pikes, to be aqnt for the use of his •table 4v St. Martin’s Lent, u a. Advent, the we as tfn Lent,1 whence it -is clear that in Lombardy, in the eighth

* Can. 9. sub Rege Quntrajnno.

b Capital, c. 184. ed. BaTuz. T. i. p. 964. * §. IJetr. Dantfan, 1. iii. ep. 1,0.

* JUthario* in Synodioo, aped D’Aeherium in SprcHes. -T. ii. p. 266.

* Apod B’Acher. Spicil. T. ii. p. 264. et apud 1’ Abbe <fcc. Concil. resp. iv. et

Mabillon in Liturg. Gallic. ,1. iii. p. 1. f A malar, de Offic. Eccles. 1. iv.

c. 37. et 1. i. c. 36. et 1. ii. c. 40. Rabonu* Maurus, c. 2.

v See Bede’s Hist. c. 3. c. 27. Johnson’s Canons, etc.

* This is observed in an excellent copy of this Missal, of the tenth century, still kept in the library of the famous monastery of Jnmieges in Njjripanay. It belonged to the Archbishop and church of Canterbury, and was given to this monastery by Robert, Abbot of this house, who was made Archbishop 0* Can- terbury in 1060, in the reign of the Confessor.

l ApudMatfease de Anftpm Bccto. Discipl, c. 10. m 6.

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century, Advent was a fast of forty days ; though at Rome, in the ninth century, it was only of four weeks. Ratherius, Bishop of Verona, in the early part of the tenth century, reckons Advent in Lombardy at that time only of four weeks, as then at Rome ; but mentions it as a fast/ or at least as a time of abstinence from flesh meat. “In the Advent of our Lord, (says 'he, ) unless a festival in- “ tervenes, you must know, that all abstain from flesh meat, and “from cohabitation in marriage/ The author of the Epistle to Bibianus, which has been inserted among the Letters of St. Austin, speaking of St. Martin’s-day, says : “ Among us, from the festival of “ this saint, abstinence from flesh, and from cohabitation in the mar- “ ried state, is enjoined all the children of the church, by an indis- “ pensable preempt, that they may more securely approach the holy “communion at Christmas/ Rope Nicholas I., in 867, in his Answers to the Bulgarians,1* reckons the four weeks of Advent among the fasts, which the Roman church had received, and at that time observed.6 Pope Innocent IIL, in an Answer to the

Archbishop of Braga says: Advent with us is a fast; which decretal is inserted in the body of the canon law. These words rather seem to express a fast of devotion and general custom, than of strict universal precept, and insinuate that the discipline was not every where uniform/ Beleth, the Paris theologian, in 1080/ mentions it as a fast of obligation, by the reason which he alleges for the vigil of St. Thomas the Apostle, not being set down in the calendar ; because it falls in Advent, in which we are to keep, as it were, a perpetual fast. That Advent was formerly kept, even by the laity, a fast, in some places of precept, in others of de- votion, is shown by Benedict XIV.f by Dom Martenne,* l’Abbe de lTsle,b Thomassin,* Baillet ;k and this last author thinks the fast of Advent to have been first commanded in certain parts by an express canon in the diocese of Tours, by S. Perpeuuts, arch- bishop of that city. But the learned Martenne attributes the precept of this fast to St. Gregory the great ; who, as Amalarius, and Abbot Beno1 assure us, first passed this into an express law, which yet was never intended to be general. In the sacramentary of St. Gregory, four Sundays of Advent are set down with particular offices. The fast of Advent being in many places only of devotion, though for some time general, fell into disuse among the laity ; but in most religious orders, it is rigorously kept up to tnis day. Some monas- teries begin it from the feast of S. Martin ; others from that of S. Catherine ; others from that of All Saints ; others from the first Sunday of Advent, as Cardinal Cozza has accurately explained in

• In Synodico in Spicilegio, T. ii. j>. 256. b Cone. T. viii.

c Cap. Concilium ae Observ. Jejanii.

d Jejunum apud nos etiam in Adventu Domini agitur,l. iii. decretal, p. 139.

• Beleth. de Div. Offic. c. 11.

f Bened. XIV. Inutitut xi. de Adventu, T. i. t Martenne de Ant. Ecclesis Dinciplina, c. 1, n. 5. h Hint. Dogmat. du Jeune. 1 Tr. 1 du Jeune. k Baillet Hist del’ Avent. 1 De ouibusdam ad Missam spectaat. e. 4.

ADVENT.

Ch. IL]

his Dogmatical and Moral Treatise on Fasting,* commended by Pope Benedict XIV. ; yet in monastic orders, the fast of Advent has alwayft been looked upon as less rigorous, and less solemn than that of Lent. Peter Venerable, Abbot of Cluny, calls it the middle or lesser fast.b The fast of forty days before Christmas, was strictly enjoined all religious persons, in the Second Council of Tours in 567, in the Council of Saltzburg in 1281, and in many other councils and statutes of monastic orders* The Greeks keep their Advent, or Hapicvia of forty days, as Goar frequently repeats.* The monk Gregory, first Proto- Syncellus, afterward Patriarch of Con- stantinople, in his Apology for the Council of Florence, against Mark of Ephesus, says, indeed that in the city of Constantinople itself, some began the fast of Advent on the 15th of November, others on the 8tn, and others on the 20th of December. But he speaks only of the fast of that penitential time, in which the practice of some Oriental churches varied. This diversity of discipline many private persons were allowed to follow at Constantinople. But in the office of the church, their office was then as it now is, of six weeks, like Lent, as Leo Allatius shows/1 St. Anastasius, the Sinaite, in the East, mentions a fast of forty days before Christmas, no less than that before Easter ;• and the Oriental churches, with very few ex- ceptions, at this day keep the fast, or abstinence of Advent, from the feast of S. Philip, which they celebrate on the 14th of November, to Christmas, which they call S. Philip’s Lent.

In sign of compunction and penance the church uses purple or mourning ornaments in her sacred offices, the deacons wear no dal- matics in their ministry, the angelical hymn, or Gloria in Excelsis is omitted in mass. On the Sundays mass A Ueluiah is repeated to express the spiritual joy of Christ’s coming, or its expectation ; but omitted in the ferial masses, to inspire us with a spirit of compunction, and put us in mind that all the week days were once an universal fast, as Rabanus Maorus calls them/ Hence the ferial office in Advent is equalled to that of Lent, by the additional prayers of compunction and penitential solemnity.®

CHAP. II.

The Motives for Sanctifying Advent .

We are called upon to sanctify the time of Advent by the most pressing motives, first of our spiritual and most important interest; 2ndly, of duty and gratitude to our most gracious God and Re- deemer; 3rdly, of obedience to the precept and summons of the church. To neglect the time of salvation argues a supine insensibi-

» Card. Cozza, pert. 2.

b Bibliotheca Cluniacen*. p. 1359, in Statu tis Cluniacentubuf, c. 15. c Goar, in Enchol. Graeco?, p. 207, &c. d Leo Alla tins de Hebdomadis Grsecorum.

c S. Anast. Sin. Tr. de Quadragess. T. iii. Mon. Eccles. Greec. p. 430. r Rab. Maur. de Institutione Clerid, c. ii. <fcc. s Gavant and Meriati de Aventu.

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lity of our most , important spiritual advantage. The mystery of the; irfcaroat^on and birtn of the Sou of God, is the source and cause of all t^ie heavenly blessings and graces we can receive or hope iot. By it we are to be raised from sin, to receive strength to subdue our passions, and triumph over all our enemies ; by it we are enriched with aH divine graces, and exalted to the dignity of sons of God. To be freed f):om the slavery of the devil, and the inexpressible mi- series and guilt of sin, under which we lay grovelling in the mass of corruption and eternal perdition, to be cleansed from ah filth, adorned with all graces, and by God’s most merciful adoption made his chil- dren ana heirs of his kingdom, are infinite advantages, in which we cannot consider or represent to ourselves the least circumstance without being out of ourselves, in raptures of astonishment, adora- tion, and praise. Much less can we weigh the immense price of our redemption, or contemplate the wonderful manner in which it was wrought, without being penetrated and quite overwhelmed with these most incomprehensible mysteries of the divine mercy- Though we are not able to make a just estimation of the boundless treasure of these sublime graces^ obtained and offered us through this mystery, we cannot be so void of feeling as not to burn with the most ardent desire of attaining those numberless and unspeakable advantage^ purchased for us, of many of which we may be now possessed, and others still greater, we are entitled to, and already enjoy in rever- sion. “ God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith “ he loved us, when we were dead in our sins, hath quickened us to- “ ge ther with Christ* and hath raised us up together, and made us sit “ together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” (Eph. ii. 5.)

The fountains of these graces are open to us at all times ; but great festivals, on which we commemorate the principal mysteries of our redemption, are, in a particular manner, happy days of salvation to us, on which these divine treasures are more abundantly poured forth. On these days the whole church, with one heart and otiO soul, presents to God the most fervent, homages and sacrifices of ado- ration and praise, and joint suffrages, sighs, and tears, to piove him to renew in his servants the wonders of his mercies. On these festivals he is rendered more propitious and favourable in receiving our peti- tions, and producing in our souls the most abundant fruits of his greatest mysteries ; Christ came in his birth to bestow himself upon us with all the treasures of his divinity. But we can never hope that he will impart them to us unless we present ourselves to him with hearts disposed and prepared to receive them. He is born for us, and he offers to us all the boundless graces which he came to enrich us with ; we ought then to represent him to ourselves as born visibly for us in Bethlehem, and as now coming in an invisible manner, or in spirit, to communicate to us all the glorious effects and fruits of his incarnation and birth : the dispositions which he finds in our souls will be the measure of the grace which in his mercy he will commu- cate to us through the merits of this mystery. The treasure is in- finite, and our Lord burns with infinite love, and a desire which is infinite as he himself is, of imparting to us with a boundless liberality

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th^ abundant riches of his. graces. We cannot fear any danger of e^ausnng nk' Bounty^ or draining the /ountain, Both being infinite ; tKe ifiore we receive the better we shall Be disposed to receive again ' greafer Supplies ; and tfje more pleasing shall we* become to' our most merciiul and gracious Redeemer. How strong an incentive k this to fervour in preparing and disposing ourselves for such Incompre- hensible jfdyaptages ? How much soever We open our hearts to re- ceive, we snau be filled to the utmost extent . and ardour of our de- sires. These graces are nothing less than alt the incomprehensible gifts 6f the dmne mercy, redemption, grace and glory. That grace ifbich heals all the deep woupcfs, and is the sovereign cure of all the disorders of our souls, which wipes away the stains of all our sins, reverses the senUnce of eternal damnation, under which We lay, ana rescues us from the slavery of the devil and the torments of hell ; that grace which gives ns victory oyer all our passions and enemies, forms in our souls tfie holy and glorious image of Christ, and re- plenishes os with his divine spirit ; that grace by which we are called and really made the sons of God, fellows of the blessed angels, heirs of the eternal glory, coheirs with Christ. Can we raise our desires to any thing beyond these inestimable privileges ? Can we frame an idea of the least part or circumstance of them ? What ought then to he the transports of our joy at the sight or thought ; what the fer- vour of our devotion in asking them, and the ardour of out desires to obtain tliem ? But alas ! as when Christ was bom among the Jews, His owh people, “ He came unto his own and his own received Him not. , (John t. i.l So we lament the same monstrous incon- ceivable blindness and insensibility among Christians in these our

% Bernard, observes, a that we are to distinguish three comings of Christ : the first, by wbicb he manifested himself in the flesh : the second, by which he invisibly enters our souls, to dwell in us by his grace and lioly spirit, and is thus spiritually born in us. The third is when he shall come in power and majesty to judge the world. The incomparable advantages which we hope for, and reap from his first coming, and our security and happiness in his last coming to judge us, depend upon our receiving him in his second coming, by which* he takes possession of, and dwells in spirit in our hearts. It is then of the most essential importance and necessity that we invite Jesus into our souls, that he may subject all our affections and powers to the empire of his holy love. 0 1 happy is he, cries out S. Bernard, b in whom thou establishes! thv dwelling. O Lord Jesils, happy is he in whom the divine wisdom nas prepared himself a tabernacle. In such souls he destroys the empire of sin, makes himself master of their af- fections, and reigns sovereignly in them ; to that every desire, and power, atid sense is moved by his holy spirit, and obedient to his most adorable and perfect will. If we take a view of our own hearts, we shall see ourselves at an immense distance from this hjmpy state, and shall have reason to fear that Christ is not yet spiritually born or

a 8. Bon. Serin. 3 and 5. £ S. Bern. Serin. I

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formed in us, or at least that his spiritual birth in us is very weak and imperfect. Ah ! Christ comes to visit us, says St. Bernard ; but if we do not receive him into our souls, he comes against us, and to our condemnation. If he be not spiritually born in us, it is in vain that he was born for us ; we make the designs of his love and mercy in his first birth abortive, and he will come at the last day, not to crown but to condemn us ; let us then tremble at the sight of our past sloth and ingratitude. How many Advents have we already lost ? So many calls of the divine mercy demand vengeance against us. Let our fervour in this Advent make amends for past neglects, and retrieve our sloth after so much time lost, after so many calls re- jected and graces abused, after so many repeated in^elities, we must redouble our pace that we may still be of that srmLll thrice happy number, of whom it is written : “ To as many as have received nun “ he hath given power to be made the sons of God.” (John, c. i.) We must be entirely callous and insensible if we do not aspire most earnestly after this exalted and most necessary grace— our essential happiness, and dread sovereignly every danger of forfeiting it. The fervour of this disposition in us will appear in our earnestness in every mean of preparing ourselves for it in this holy time of Advent.

Tnough our spiritual, only, and infinitely important interest and eternal happiness were not so highly concerned in, and did not so es- sentially depend upon our' fervour in making this Advent a time of our sanctification; duty, love, and gratitude to God, ought most powerfully to excite us to it, motives which weigh above all others with generous minds. The eternal omnipotent God, whose pre- sence the whole creation would not be able to bear, should he ap- pear in the immense and incomprehensible glory of his Majesty, before iyhom, according to the expressions of the prophets, the mountains would tremble, the sun withdraw its light, the earth vanish out of sight, and nature shrink into nothing ; this immortal God leaves the throne of his glory, clothes himself with our weak- ness, and stooping down infinitely below his majesty, humbles, nay annihilates himself so as to appear the very outcast of his own vilest sinful creatures, only to enlighten our darkness, deliver us out of the jaws of everlasting death, raise us from the abyss of miseries, exalt us upon the throne of his glory, and enrich us with the treasures of his divinity. And can we remain so deeply immersed in the filth of this earth, so insensible and so ungrateful as to give no attention to so bright a mercy and to the presence of so adorable a majesty ? Do not our hearts burst with love, gratitude, and astonishment at so wonderful a mystery, at this infinite condescension and goodness of our God ? Are not our souls all on fire with glowing desires to go forth and meet him, to make him a tender of our best homages, offer ourselves in return to him, and prepare him the best reception we are able in our hearts, which alone he comes to seek? If an earthly king would honour us with a visit, how would every hand and every contrivance of art be employed in removing all filth out of the road and out of the house, correcting every deformity and defi- ciency, and setting off the dwelling with every ornament that could

ADVENT.

Ch. II.]

embellish it ; how careful should we be that nothing should be found in our apartments that could give him the least offence or disgust, and nothing be wanting that could give him delight and pleasure, and testify our sense of the favour and honour done us ? How un- pardonable would be the offence, if we neglected such a preparation ? We should justly forfeit all the favours we could promise ourselves from his presence, and should incur by our contempt his severest in- dignation. Sin, worldly attachments of the heart, and the slavery of our criminal passions, are an abomination to our God, and incompa- tible with his divine presence : the ornaments of all virtues are the charms and attractives which invite him into our souls, and make them an abode for him : if we neglect to remove the impediments, and make him this preparation for his reception, we shut our hearts against him ; such an insensibility and indifference must quite freeze his divine heart glowing with love for us, swelling with tender com- passion for our miseries, and burning with a boundless desire of giv- ing himself whole and entire to us, and to crown us with his infinite mercies and glory. For this he sent John the Baptist before to an- nounce to us the necessity and obligation which we lie under of such a preparation.

The great summons delivered by the Baptist to the Jews, is equally addressed to men of every age, and belongs no less to us than it did to the Jews then living. Christ was born for all men: it is then an indispensable duty in us to dispose ourselves to receive him, and by his grace improve in ourselves the fruits of his coming. Lest we should deceive ourselves in this point, and neglect so essential a duty, our holy mother the church, ever tenderly solicitous for the spiritual welfare of her children, and the faithful depository and in- terpreter of the divine oracles, proclaims the summons of the Baptist to us during all the time of Advent, in the most pressing and solemn manner. The same pathetic invitation, the same sacred voice, which formerly echoed on the banks of the Jordan, and in the de- serts of Jericho, is now sounded in our ears from the altars, and by the same divine authority and commission. The ministers of God now cry out to us in the words of the Prophets : “ Sound your u trumpets, announce to all nations ; behold God the Saviour will “ come: the Lord is near: the day is just at hand, prepare the way .” The church at this time ceases not daily to proclaim aloud and repeat to us the exhortations of the Baptist, the great herald of heaven sent for this purpose ; of whom it is written : “ Behold I send my angel “ before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before thee.” (Matt, xi. 10.) “ Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make strait his paths,® “ and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” (Luke iii. 4,6.) This divine precursor also points out to us in what this preparation of our soul chiefly consists, and what are the conditions which it requires, compunction, penance, and most earnest and assiduous sighs and

prayers.

pr*. it

cha?,w.

On the Exercises of holy Penance ar\d prayer by which we f ire bound principally to ?ancfr/^ our Sfouls in th\s holy time of jfdvent.

The first $ud mP$t fad^ens^blp duty and obligation for the a&nctifr cation of Advent* upon which every other pert and condition depend^ is a sincere and perfect repentance. Mortal sin entirely separates a soul from God, and banishes his holy spirit front her* The least yenial sin, especially if habitual o,r of attachment, obstructs the ahum 4ant effusion of his graces. Moreover, to remove the obstacles to his sweet and glorious being in us, not only all sin must be put away by a sincere and perfect repentance ; but also whatever expiation remains due tot hi* 4i vine justice, ought to be discharged, satisfaction for in- juries done to our neighbour and restitution for injustice must he made, every inordinate passion muat be subdued, and every <ha<>rder> ever irregular attachment of the affections corrected, that every im- pediment to the visit of the Holy Ghost, and perfect reign pf his grace may be taken away. The least stain, the least irregularity in the will or affections, raises, obstacles to the perfect effusion of his bounty and loye i the most spotless purity and perfect sanctify bet coming the sanctuary or dwelling of him who, is sanctity itself. We intreat him in his visit, and by bis divine presence perfectly to cleanse pur soids, heal all our wounds, correct ail disorders, and enrich us with all his gifts, Put this we cannot sincerely ask pf him unless. we truly desire these graces, endeavour earnestly to prepare our heafts to, receive them, apd remove every thing that can obstruct, them* We absolutely exclude him if we lie under the guilt of mortal sin,, and we set up obstacles to his graces, if we entertain any irregular attachment, qr live in an habitual infidelity or sloth in any duty, ox if we da nojt to the utmost of our power endeavour to make etoner- rnenf for the least offences, and correct the least disorders in out souk. This is the work of holy compunction and penance..

To dispose the world to receive its Gpd and Redeemer in the wonderful mystery of his incarnation, all the Prophets from the her ginning ceased not to exhort all men to repentance. This is, a$ it were, the summary of all their preaching, and of all their most pa- thetic and earnest discourses. This they ceased not continually tQ inculate and Repeat with the greatest earnestness, enforcing it with the divine threats and promises, and with every motive that holy 4zeal* and the most tender charity could employ ; supported with all powerful graces, which the Holy Ghost, whose organs they were, failed not to afford, or at least offer, to all who did not reject them-. The immediate precursor of our divine Saviour, whom he came to usher in, and point out to the world, was the great doctor and preacher of penance : to announce this to the world, in order to pre- pare men by sincere repentance to receive the grace of their redemp- tion, was his only errand ; the only special mandate of the high com- mission on which he was sent by God in a solemn manner, and in-

et hl]

vested wifi the most sublime character, as he himself declares, and the Evangelists repeat, in order to preach penance by example, no less than by his moving discourses and by hhr baptism, though he had been privileged with the most singular grace and innocence above other saints (except the mother of God) : he lived from his infancy in the wilderness, an innocent martyr of the most austere penance ; when he went forth to enter upon the function of his mission, he preached on the confines of his desert that he might not mix with the world, or entirely leave his penitential solitude : locusts dried, an insipid hard food, used by some among the poor in that country, and wild honey, were the only nourishment he allowed himself, and his garments were no other than rough camels* hair. Thus clothed with the weeds of penance, and bearing its marks in his body, holding forth its standard in every circumstance of his life, he appeared on the banks of the Jordan to administer a baptism of penance to those who de- sired it, as an emblem of their interior cleansing from sin by their compunction. " He came into the country of Jordan, preachhig the u baptism of penance unto remission of sins, as it is written in the u book of Jsaias the Prophet ; a voice of one crying in the desert, u prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight his paths : every valley u snail be filled up, and every mountain and hill shall be levelled, and the u crooked things shall become straight, and rough ways plain.” (Luke iii. 3, 4, 5.y That is, all pride must be lowered and banished by hu- mility ; all inordinate attachments corrected, and every disorder of our souls cured. For this purpose it was the constant theme of his zealous sermons, “ Do penance, for the kingdom of God is at hand ; a bring forth fruits worthy of penance, for the axe is laid to the a root of the tree.* (Matt. iii. 10 (Luke iii. 8).) Our holy Mother the Church now repeats these sacred proclamations and solemn summons, to invite us to the practice of penance ; and moreover puts on herself its badges in the weeds of her ministers, the ornaments of her altars, the ceremonies of hfer solemn office, and the prayers and lessons of which it is composed in this holy time. The solemnizing of marriage is not less forbidden in Advent than in Lent ; and anciently, married persons passed Advent, Lent, all other fasting days and all festivals, in continence, and was for several ages a precept of the church, and is still recommended by it, as we are put in mind by the Catechism of the Council of Trent, the repeated instructions of S. Charles Borromaeo, and many ancient and modern synods, statutes, and rituals. St. Lewis is mentioned to have most religiously observed this holy law.a It has been already remarked, that formerly* Advent was a time of a general fast, scarce less solemn than Lent : in some places of precept, every day, except Sundays and holidays ; in others, on three days in the week, with a perpetual abstinence from flesh ; in some parts of the Latin church, it was only a fast of devotion, which insensibly prevailed, and by the tepedity of the faithful at fength terminated in a disuse among the laity, and was confined to monasteries : if this fast is little thought of out of cloisters, all Chris*

* Bonifoc. VML in Bulla Canoniz, S. Ludorici, and Rinaldos, ad Ann, 1397, n, 64, 161, Capital, 1, vi, c, 187,

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[Tr. II.

tians ought so far to enter into the spirit of the church, as to sanctify this holy time at least by the practice of some mortification and re- trenchments, particularly on Fridays and some other days in the week, and by a constant extraordinary sobriety and temperance. This is an indispensable part of penance, and a necessary means to fit our souls for the exercises of heavenly prayer, a relish of spiritual things, the consolations of the Holy Ghost and all virtue : “ The “ kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but justice, and peace, and “joy in the Holy Ghost.” (Rom. xiv. 17.) Its pure delignts are in- finitely sweeter tnan all the base gratification of sense, according to the expression of St. John Climacus; and are more incompatible with them than fire with water ; the filth and dung of what is earthly and sensual, is absolutely inconsistent with a heavenly spirit, an habitual abstemiousness, and indifference in the choice of wholesome food, is an indispensable duty, and is attended with the greatest spiritual and corporal advantages. This holy penitential time ought to be sancti- fied by a severer curb on our appetite, as it is the beginning of a spi- ritual and truly Christian life, in which the first step is a perfect victory over sensuality and gluttony, as St, Basil,* and St. John Climacusb observe ; without this condition our penance is fruitless, or essentially defective, says St. Basil, and an opposition is raised by a sensual and carnal disposition of our hearts to the spiritual birth of Christ in our souls and to the reign of his grace in us.

But the penance here required is most essentially that of the heart, by the exercises and tears of sincere compunction, and the interior sacrifice of our affections ; that is what the Precursor and Prophets most emphatically exhort us to, as the most essential part of the di- vine precept of penance, and the very soul of that indispensable vir- tue, and the condition of our justification and salvation. The crooked and misplaced affections of the will must be reformed and made straight, its disorders must be atoned for by suitable fruits of re- pentance, which will effectually root out and correct the evil incli- nations, redress all that has been done amiss, and be the beginning of a new life and seed of all perfect virtue. For a soul to be sincerely converted from the love of the world to the love of God, to divest herself of the carnal affections of the old man, to put on the new man, and to form in her heart Christ, and his spirit, is not so easy a task, nor in the ordinary course of the dispensation of the divine grace, to be made perfect in so short a time as many seem to imagine. Can any one be so foolish as to persuade himself that this total' change is effected by once striking the breast, superficially reading certain forms of acts of contrition, or crying out, Lord have mercy on me ? Except an extraordinary miracle of grace, such as we admire in the conversion of St. Paul, and some others; this is not the work of a day, but requires repeated prayer, many sighs and groans conti- nued a long time, accompanied with fasting and other mortifications of the senses, and with an abundant alms and works of mercy, chari- ty, meekness, humility, and all virtues. Deep sores are not soon

• St. Basil. Serin. 1 De Cap. Jejun. and in b St. Climachns, p. 14.

ADVENT.

Ch. III.]

healed unless cleansed to the bottom ; if by palliative cures they are only skinned over, the wounds, by breaking out again, become often desperate, and resist all future remedies. If we are sensible of our spiritual miseries and disorders, and feel our interior weakness, and complicated infirmities, we shall dedicate, with the greatest fer- vour and joy, this holy time of Advent to the exercises of compunc- tion and penance, crying out to God from the bottom of our hearts: Wash me, O Lord, more and more from all stain of iniquity ; O cleanse me from all sin, and sprinkle me, O Lord, with hysop, &c. Such sighs ought to be our familiar aspirations to God at this time, and we must daily set apart some time to recite devoutly some psalms or other prayers of compunction. Nothing but our sins raise a wall of division betwixt our souls and God. The more earnestly we desire to invite him into our hearts, and to share in the graces of his coming, the more solicitous ought we to be to purify our souls from all sin in the sacred laver of his blood, and to disengage and scour our affections from whatever is earthly and carnal. To excite us powerfully to this saving compunction, the Church, in the gospel which she ordains to be read on the first Sunday of Advent, sets be- fore us the terrors of the last coming of Christ, and the severity with which he will then judge us. To prevent the effects of his ven- geance against sin in that dreadful day of the divine justice, we ought always to have it before our eyes, and frequently to meditate on it, especially at this holy time, that we may be effectually stirred up to sincere compunction and penance, proportioned to the enormity of our offences, and the depth of our disorders, and be disposed to lay hold of the infinite mercy which is offered us in his first coming. Compunction is to be the first, but not the only spiritual entertain- ment of our souls at this holy time ; the main part of our devotions ought to be taken up in contemplating and honouring the incarnation of the Son of God, in order to excite ourselves to continual fervent exercises of thanksgiving, praise, and love, with most ardent desires of the perfect union of our souls with God through his mercy, held forth to us in thfc incomprehensible mystery. Hence the Church considers Advent as a time partly of compunction and penance, and partly of spiritual joy and thanksgiving for the approach of the re- demption of our souls, with the highest heavenly advantages ; and she intermingles her Alleluias with her sighs and cries of compunction.

These melting aspirations and canticles are to be more the work of the heart than of the voice. St. Bernard observes that God, who is the most holy and pure spirit, being to be honoured in spirit and truth, nothing can be more contrary to true devotion, nothing a more inexcusable hypocrisy than for a Christian to pass the holy time of Advent in religious exercises, performed merely by custom, without interior sentiments of compunction for sin, and of love and thanks- giving to God ; such an inconceivable indifference and insensibility, is a baseness unworthy an human heart, and a most criminal ingrati- tude against our most merciful God and Redeemer. In our pious meditations and fervent devotions, we must be transported with in- expressible spiritual joy, be ravished with admiration at every cir*

4 JDVwrr.

[T». II

cumstance of sp stupendous a mercy, and inflamed with burning love of a God, who, by bestowing on us his only and co-eternal Son, gives us the most wonderful proofs of his infinite love for us# To stir up our souls to these lively sentiments of devotion, and banish all cri- minal insensibility, we ought at this time to set apart every day some short time to meditate on some circumstance of tne great mystery of the incarnation, or the infinite wisdom, power, justice, goodness, mer- cy, and love, which shine forth in it ; or on some part of the gospel history of this most incomprehensible of ail the works of Goa# In these meditations we must dwell on the most feeling sentiments of adoration, love, praise, thanksgiving, compunction, humility, and the oblation and consecration of ourselves to the service and love of so gracious a God. To honour our divine Redeemer incarnate for us, and to comure him to visit, to be spiritually born, and to dwell in our miserable souls, to be our complete redemption and infinite trea- sure and source of all blessings, we may recite daily in the most pro- found spirit of adoration, love, praise, and compunction, the litany of the holy name of Jesus, or that in honour of the virtues of his hidden interior divine life, some moving paraphrase on the great anthems of Advent, or some other like prayer, were it but three times, Our Father, and Hail Mary, with devotion for this intention. During our ordi- nary employments and conversation in the day, we ought frequently to raise our hearts to God with more than ordinary devotion at this holy time, and entertain ourselves with him by warm affections or aspirations of compunction and humility, of love, praise, thanksgiving, supplication, and sacrifice, or the offering of our hearts to Him : habit will soon make this practice easy and familiar, if we avoid the danger- ous indiscretion of attempting it by a constrained application of the brain, which is the bane of true devotion, by straining the affections, and weakening the head and faculties of the mind. Love is only kindled by such reflections and aspirations as are its spiritual nourish- ment, those which the heart produces with ease, without study or in- tenseness of thought : by these the soul will feel how sweet it is to contemplate God in holy love, and that nothing brings such un- speakable joy to the heart as the remembrance of Jesu9 ; and that nothing can be so advantageous to us as to return him love for his eternal love of us. We must be void of all feeling, and harder than the flint and adamant, if the contemplation of this mystery does not continually fill our souls, and stir up in us the most ardent desire of paying our God and Redeemer the incessant homages of love, grati- tude, and praise : we can never offer him the least tender of our love, but he in return communicates himself to us with all the marks of infinite love. For every homage of praise, he with a liberality worthy a God, whose treasures of beneficence are without bounds, will glorify those who glorify him. As often as we offer him ourselves in sacri- fice for all that he has bestowed on us, or say to him from our hearts, and without reserve, I am thine, he answers us, and I am yours, infinite as I am, and with all my treasures. Whilst we never cease to bless him, he will never cease to enrich us with his divine blessings, which insure to us all his graces, love, and glory.

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Aspirations of thanksgiving fend praise Must be mingled with the most ardent continual desire*, that by visiting us he may ee spiritually born in odr souls. AH other conditions and dispositions pfepare us to this, and are Completed and perfected by it* All the graces We can hope to receive are its fruit. God bestows them according to the ardour of our desires * these both invite him into our hearts with the most tender effusion of his infinite love, fetid produce in bur souls the necessary temper and dispositions to receive him worthily*. He visits only those who by their most earnest sighs, call him into their souls, and for us not to sigh most ardently after this happiness, is the most ungrateful contempt of him, atid the most strange insensibility to our own highest advantages* Both the abyss of miseries, in which we are ingulphed, our immense interest, and the love which We owe to our infinite God and Redeemer for his boundless goodness, Mid in return for the excess of his eternal love for us, ought to kindle these burning affections in our souls ; as, according to the measure of our fervour and assiduity in inviting him, We Bhall be enriched with the abundance of his graces. The Holy fathers frequently observe that the principal reason why Christ did not come immediately after the promise of a Redeemer was given to our first parents after their sin, was, that man might for a long time feel and gfoati under the Weight of his spiritual miseries, be made Sensible of his want of a SavioUr, and his atonement for him and his grace, and by uninterrupted sighs, iuvite him down from heaven* God, Upon Adatn’s lapse, deferred not to reveal to him this unspeakable mystery of his mercy, to raise his faith and his hope In a Redeemer to come, and invite him, by con- tinual tears and prayers, to hasten his coming, and dispose himself to receive this mercy. He had no sooner sinned, but God, touched with compassion at his unhappy condition, (Gen* lii.) revealed to him this divine Mediator, and assured him that from the seed of the Woman who had been seduced by the devil, one should ccrtne who would crush the head of the infernal serpent j without this comfortable promise he must have sunk and perished in despair* If, after this divine promise, be wept and laboured in the sweat of his bfow during 900 rears, it was in a lively faith attd hope in Christ, who was to ren coneile him with his God. This Was his comfort, this supported him under the weight of his miseries ; this Redeemer was the continual object of his prayer, praise, and love $ this he instructed his posterity im Happy were they who were faithful in this tradition 1 Abraham raw in spirit the glorious day of this divine Saviour, 2000 years be- fore be Came, and he exulted with holy joy. (John till. d6*) To this Patriarch God said, that all nations should be blessed ill him who rose from his seed. (Gen. x*i. 18*) The same premise was repeated to Isaac, and again to Jacob, who, in blessing nkr children/ said to Jud* i (Gew. xbx. 10,) " The sceptfe shall not be taken w away from Juda till he come wbe is to be sent,” that 1$ this same Saviour. Moses knew this Redeemer, and judged that the ignominy of Jesus Christ was a greater treasure than all the riches Of Egypt* (tfebr* xi. 20, 26.) And Christ assures us that Moara hud written of Mot* Tfie Prophets wccee&d ttw Pttrttfcta, Arid upots# of hka iri

ADVENT.

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still clearer terms. “ A virgin shall conceive,” said Isaias, (Isa. vii. 14.) “ and shall bring forth a son, who shall be called God with “ us.” All the just who lived either before or under the law, lived in the faith in him : all the ancient saints from the beginning died in this lively firm hope, not “ having received the good things which “ God had promised them, but seeing them, and, as it were, saluting “ them at a distance. (Hebr. xi. 13.) No man could be justified or raised from sin, no man could ever come to God, but by faith in this Man-God, and by his ministry. (John xiv. 6.) It is only in his name that man, in every dispensation of the divine law, could be saved. (Actsiv. 12.) Jesus Christ, says the Apostle, was “ the end of “ the law for the salvation of all who were to believe in him.” (Rom. xix. 4.) The ancient law was entirely referred to him ; every type, every figure, every sacrifice, and every ceremony, pointed him out ; and it was only in the faith, hope, and expectation of this almighty deliverer, who was to be sent them, that the Jews put up their prayers, or could be heard by God. All true Jews under the law, all the holy patriarchs before the law, were Christians by anticipa- tion ; and how earnestly did all the ancient saints weep, sigh, and solicit heaven, that the coming of Christ might be hastened ; they prayed night and day that “ the heavens would drop down their “ dew, and the clouds rain the just, and that the earth would be “ opened, and bud forth a Saviour.” (Isa. xlv. 8.) They cried out, “ Send forth, O Lord, the Lamb, the ruler of the earth. (Isa. M xvi. 1.) O that thou wouldst break through the heavens and come “ down. (Isa. lxiv. 1.) Stir up thy might and come to save us. (Ps. “ lxxix. 3.) Who will give thee to me, that I may find thee without “ and kiss thee, and now no one may despise me.” (Cant. viii. 1.) We ought to die of shame and confusion when we consider that the ancient saints prayed with so much ardour that Christ would come speedily ; yet we who have the happiness of seeing him already born for us, and of enjoying the brightest beams of this glorious mercy, are so slothful and indifferent m inviting him to visit our souls, and enrich us with his divine presence and graces. The more fervently and more ardently we repeat our sighs and aspirations, the more vehemently shall we kindle these holy desires in our souls, and the more shall we prepare and fit ourselves to receive the most precious gifts which our Redeemer opens his divine bosom to pour forth upon us. Sometimes we may address ourselves to our Redeemer under the various titles and characters which he bears in relation to us, or to his divine Father, as his eternal, consubstantial only Son, his omnipotent sub- sisting Word, his living image, the splendour of his glory, &c., our only Saviour, Mediator, Light, Legislator, Advocate, High Priest, King, Spouse, &c. To this purpose we may adapt any of the peti- tions of our Lord’s Prayer, the great anthems of Advent, &c>, for which no one can be at a loss ; sometimes we ought to cast an eye upon our extreme spiritual weakness, blindness, baseness, and mise- ries, to stir up our souls, to push forth earnest cries to our omnipo- tent compassionate Deliverer, “ Unhappy man that I am ! who will w deliver me from this body of death ?” (Rom. vii. 24.) No other

ADVENT.

Ch. III.]

is able bat our Almighty Saviour by his all-saving grace. We must, in all our applications to our God and Saviour, humble ourselves in the abyss of our nothingness and baseness. It is only to the humble that he communicates his saving knowledge and divine graces : “ I “ confess to thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because “ thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to little ones.” (Luke x. 21.) From the depth of our miseries we must look up at the infinite treasures of mercy, and all the graces which our divine Saviour brings us by his incarnation. If we have learned to set a just value on these incomparable benefits, we shall set no bounds to our sighs and desires to obtain the largest measures of them ; especially if the divine love glow in our breasts, we shall burn with the most vehement desire that this great mystery be accomplished in us, and daily rendered more and more perfect.

To give more time to these devotions, and be better disposed for them, we must in Advent study to live in recollection and retirement as much as circumstances will permit us. This the Baptist proclaims to us by his example. He had passed near 30 years in the wilder- ness conversing only with God and the angels before he entered upon his mission ; he opened it by preaching in the confines of his beloved desert, so that the Evangelists say he preached in the wilderness, that is, on its borders ; and his preaching is called, by the Prophet, “ the “ voice of one crying in the desert.” During his ministry his beloved solitude was still his centre and his delight, in which he recruited his interior forces and his spirit : a moving lesson to us how dear solitude and recollection ought to be to us at all times ; but especially during our immediate preparation for celebrating the birth of Christ, and disposing our souls spiritually to receive him. Every Christian is indispensably bound to withdraw himself always from the world and the contagion of its vices, its spirit and maxims, and to live disen- gaged from its fatal snares and all irregular attachments. “ Remove “ out of the midst of Babylon, and go forth out of the land of the “ Chaldeans,” (Zach. ii. 7,) that world which is filled with the abo- minations and prostitutions of its spiritual fornications and idolatry, to use the figurative expressions of the Prophets. That company, those circles, those amusements, which breathe the spirit of pride and vanity, of avarice, love of pleasure, indolence, sloth and dissipation, declare open war and unreconcileable enmity against Christ and his gospel, are the bane and utter destruction of his spirit, and are di- rectly opposite to the most essential and fundamental obligations and engagements of all who desire to be called disciples of Christ. “ Thou art among unbelievers and destroyers, and thou dwellest with “ scorpions,” (Ezech. xi. 5,) whose sting is death. Certainly these false Christians dishonour the sanctity of their profession, and live dead to God in the state of sin, and enemies to Christ, that is to say, truly antichrists, who do not scrupulously shun such abominations and snares. If they feel not these their wounds and their miseries, they under- stand not the most essential obligations and sanctity of their state, or what is meant by them and the baptismal renunciations which they

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have made. In this holy season of compunction And penaOce, all Christians are bound to keep themselves at a more scrupulous dis- tance from whatever wears the appearance of these fatal snares of the devil, instruments of sin, and incentives of the passions* To love and frequent worldly assemblies, of which vanity, sensuality* and sloth are the entertainment, is to breathe in the contagious ah* of the world, which stifles and expels the spirit of Christianity. Fire and Water are not so essentially opposite to each other as worldly dissipa- tion is to holy compunction.

Christian solitude requires, moreover, in every state, some degree of interior and exterior recollection, with certain times of retirement in the day for pious reflection and prayer. This ought to be pro- longed in Advent with greater attention, to season our exterior em- ployment and conversation with devout sighs and aspirations i M He “ shall sit solitary, and hold his peace,” is the Christian’s motto et this holy time.

In the serene air of solitude, the sacrifice of our prayer will be more pure, more fervent, and more acceptable to God ; in the silence of our senses, and interior faculties, we shall listen to the voice of the Holy Ghost, who will speak to our hearts in a language hitherto un- known to us — will give us a new knowledge of spiritual things by his interior lights, and will moreover fully penetrate our hearts by his holy motions, stir up in us fervent and pure desires, holy resolutions, unutterable sighs and groanings, with sweet flowing tears of divine love, compunction, and prayer. Now’ we must say to importunate dissipating companies, idle amusements, and tumultuous clamors: u Go your way, for I am left alone ; I have put off the robe of peace “ (or carnal joy) and have put upon me the sackcloth of supplica- “ tions, and I will cry to the Most High in my days.” (Baruch iv. 19, 20.)

Above all other exercises, we must, in this devout recollection, earnestly desire upon all the powerful motives of holy love in this mystery, to be united to our God and Redeemer, filled with his graces, and animated with his spirit, that he be spiritually born in U9, and we be spiritually incorporated with him.

This love which inspires the soul with an earnest desire of the closest union with her beloved, her God and Redeemer, seeks this not only by conversing with him, and entertaining her affections, and all her powers and faculties with him, but also by the most intimate union with him in the holy 9acrament of his love, which he instituted only to communicate himself to us, and incorporate ns with himself, that we may be made one with him, live by him and his spirit, and be enriched with all his gifts and graces. S. Charles Borromfco, in se- veral provincial and diocesan Councils, and in pastoral charges to his clergy, severely commands all rectors of parishes, curates, and others, who have charge of souls, earnestly to warn and exhort the faithful te receive the holy communion in Advent and Lent, at least every Sunday, if not oftener. He repeats the same charge to the laity, itr several pastoral instructions which he addressed to them. The sa- cramental tuHon of the loving sotd with her Spouse and Strtimtf,

ADVENT.

Ch. Ill*]

though infinitely sublime end wonderful, being under veils, does not perfectly satiate her love. It is, indeed, her chief comfort* spiritual strength and support, her viaticum in her mortal pilgrimage ; but with the increase of her love it kindles in her more longing desires of the

Eerfect union and reign of her God, and his love in her, by beholding im face to face* and possessing him in his glory. From the vehe- ment desires of being perfectly delivered from all our spiritual evils and miseries* and being united to, and possessing him in his grace and love, and in the holy sacrament of his precious body and blood, our hearts are raised by strong desires after our eternal and perfect transformation into him in his bliss. S. Augustine showp,a from that petition of our Lord’s prayer : “ Thy kingdom come,” that this desire is the continual sigh and prayer of every faithful pilgrim soul on earth ; this earnest love and desire of Christ’s coming to us, and uniting himself to us in his glory, the Holy Ghost inspires into the heart of his spouse with continual sighs and groanings. “ The spirit “ and the bride (or faithful soul animated by the holy spirit,) say, “ come.” (Apoi*. xxii. 17.) S. John adds : " and let him who hears “ this, say, come.” What can be more natural, or more reasonable in religion, than for a loving spouse to desire earnestly to be with her beloved, or a creature made for God, to sigh continually to en- joy him, her centre and her last end, her sovereign, eternal, and only good, for one who is held captive with impatient longings, to wait tor liberty, for a soul enslaved and besieged by vanity aud dangers, to long for a glorious immortality, where sin and the devil will nave no power over her, and God will be to her all in all. This is so re- gular an effect of divine charily in us, that S. Paul calls these sighs after our perfect redemption and deliverance, the fruit of our adop- tion. (Rom. viii.) It would be an intolerable presumption for any one to think himself fit to die ; as no Christian can think of appear- ing before his judge, who is infinite sanctity, without being seized with just dread and trembling. But with compunction he has re- course to the divine mercy, fears by living to increase his debts, con- siders life as an infinite mercy, by affording means to do more per- fect penance, and after all accepts life as a mercy and blessing, yet with submission to the divine will, sighs to be with God. Most grievous will be the punishment of those who let slip these penitential times of mercy, by an abuse, perhaps more criminal than that of the Jews, who, by being deaf to the divine call in the days of mercy, de- served to be cast off by God, and found him not, even when he was in the midst of them.

The church, in her office, teaches us to employ our devotions in Advent on each of the four comings of Christ ; the first, when he was born in the flesh for us, that we praise and thank him for this in- comprehensible mystery ; the second by which he invisibly visits our soul^ and is spiritually born in us by his grace and dwelling within us ; the third, when he will visit us invisibly to take us to himself at the hour of our death ; the few rth when he will come visibly to judge

• S. Aug. m Pi. xoiik in Pa. cshi L it cp» 19b, Bm+ *o*

ADVENT,

[T*. II.

the world, and crown his elect at the end of time. These comings of our Lord are the object of our earnest desires, and we pray that they may be accomplished by the divine mercy in our favour ; especially the second, or his spiritual birth in us, by which the redemption and deliverance of our souls from the slavery of sin and the passions is completely consummated, and his reign of love perfectly established in us. Our share in this grace of his invisible spiritual birth will be the measure in which we shall be partakers in the happiness and joy of his coming, both at the hour of our death, and at the end of the world. This we especially ask and desire, with the most ardent sighs and prayers.

Pope Innocent III. explains this doctrine in the following terms :* We read of four comings of Christ, two visible and two invisible. The first visible coming was when he came to redeem the world : the second will be when he shall come to judge it. His first invisible coming is that by which he visits the soul of the just man by grace : of which he says: “ We will come unto him, and will take up our “ dwelling with him” (John xiv. 23.) The second invisible com- ing will be at the death of every just man, of which S. John writes : “ Come, Lord Jesus.” (Apoc. xxii. 20.) Whence the church prays, that at the Christian’s death, Christ may come forth to meet him. These four comings of Christ, the church represents in the four Sun- days of Advent, not only in the number, but also in part, in certain prayers and lessons of her office.

The four Sundays of Advent are to be sanctified with particular devotion, viz., by longer devout prayers, by frequenting the sacra- ments with more than ordinary fervour, by assisting at sermons and catechetical instructions, which are more frequent during the whole time of Advent. See the instructions of S. Charles Borromaeo, and his Councils in the Acts of the Church of Milan, which the aposto- lic see has justly styled the treasure of ecclesiastical discipline. The third Sunday of Advent, in its office, holds forth the near approach of the world’s Redeemer, by redoubling our fervour in our sighs, stirs us up afresh to compunction and spiritual joy. The Greeks keep before Christmas a feast of the ancient holy patriarchs and pro- phets,b in honour chiefly of their ardent sighs and expectation of the world’s Redeemer.

The last week of Advent is celebrated with a more solemn office, as a more immediate preparation to the great festival of Christ’s birth.®

The Ember Days of December .

Besides the general motives of this ancient homage of prayer, alms and fasting in each of the four quarters of the year, were parti- cularly instituted, as S. Leo the Greatd observes, in thanksgiving for

* lunoc. 111. de miserik Horn inis post. S. Bern. <fcc.

b Sude] auge in Glossar. Grsec. v. IlpoiraTiptQ*

c See Theopb. Raynaodus de Hebdomada Praeparationis ante Festum Nati- vitatis, T. vii. Oper. p. 464.

d S. Leo in Seim. 2, de Jejnnio decked Mensk, et Collects,

ADVENT*

Ch. III.]

the fruits of the earth, after all are gathered in, with a sacrifice of se- vere abstinence and temperance : for what can be more powerful or profitable, says this holy pope and doctor, than a wholesome fast, by which we draw near to God, by disarming the devil, subdue our passions, and vanquish the blandishments of vice. Fasting is always the nourishment of virtue ; from it come forth good thoughts and desires : by it the flesh dies to its carnal appetites, and the spirit is renewed and strengthened in all virtue. But as the spiritual health and vigour of our souls is not maintained by fasting alone, our absti- nence must be made agreeable to God, by concomitant liberal alms- deeds : “ Let all be given to virtue, which we take from sensuality ; 44 let- the abstinence of our fast be a feeding of the poor ; let it be 44 our care to protect and provide for widows and orphans ; to com- 44 fort all that mourn ; reconcile all who are at variance ; entertain 44 poor strangers ; assist the oppressed ; clothe the naked ; relieve and 44 cherish the sick ; that by offering to God from our labours, this 44 sacrifice of piety to him, who is the giver of all things, we may re- 44 ceive of him the reward of the heavenly kingdom ; let us therefore 44 fast the Wednesday and Friday, and likewise on Saturday watch 44 the night in prayer, at the tomb of the blessed apostle S. Peter, 44 that, assisted by the suffrages of his merits, we may obtain what we 44 ask through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

On Wednesday, the office of the Incarnation, in thanksgivings for the accomplishment of the sighs of the ancient saints, and of God*s merciful promises by this holy and incomprehensible mystery, was formerly celebrated with the utmost pomp and solemnity, and sung by the abbot in every monastery, and by him who presided in all ca- thedral and collegiate churches. It was called from the first words of the gospel on it missus est Angelus Gabriel . For several years S. Bernard preached the beautiful and pathetic sermons, entitled on the missus est . The learned Dom Martenne* says of this most so- lemn office, that if any other feast, though of the first and highest rank, fell on this day, it gave place to this office, and was deferred to the next day ; that on it, even the sick arose at midnight, and assisted at Matins, and the whole office, if they had strength. The homily of venerable Bede was first read, but after S. Bernard, another was instituted from his sermons on the gospel of this day. The great anthems or the O’s at vespers are sung double with solemnity, be- ginning on the 17th, during seven days before Christmas. Formerly an eighth anthem was sung on the 16th day of the month, as may be seen in the breviaries, or books of the divine office of that antiquity, and is mentioned by Amalarius.b

On the last week of Advent, the monks formerly kept their fast much more severe,0 as in holy week before Easter, on the eve of S. Thomas, unless it happened to be on a Sunday ; their beards were shorn for Christmas, and the bath was allowed to those who chose to

* De Antiqnia Monachor. Ritibas, L iii. c. 2, p. 271.

b Amalar. de online Antiphon, c. 13, Martenne, 1. iii. de ant. Monachor. riti-

bos, c. 2.

« Regnla Magistri apud

Holstem, Ac.

IT*

73 HOLT HAMS OF JESUS. [Tb. lit.

make use ef it,* neither of which was permitted in times of com- punction and penance, till near the end, that they might be neat and sweet on the festival, and announce their joy on their very exterior.

The eve of Christmas was of all others the most solemn. All were invited to spiritual joy, by reading the little chapter at Ves- pers, “ Rejoice.”* The versicles of the foregoing Vespers contain the most languishing sighs of the ancient saints. That “ Come to 44 redeem,”0 was sung by two children. 44 That 44 Drop down in 44 dew, &c.” by one child. The lauds of the eve were sung with the greatest solemnity, by the provost of the collegiate, or abbot of the monastery, accompanied with the music of all the instruments/*

ON THE FEAST OF THE HOLY NAME OF

JESUS.

Second Sunday after Epiphany*

The devout Christian soul, which has learned to know her divine Redeemer, the Author and Finisher of her salvation, and being cru- cified to the world, and all sensual appetites, and having purified her affections from all infection of their poison, is capable of tasting the sweetness, and comprehending the glory and happiness of his holy love, finds him in every mystery, and in every circumstance, infinitely amiable, and infinitely adorable. Every feast in his honour, she em- braces and celebrates, with unspeakable spiritual joy and devotion. That of his holy Name seems in some measure to comprise every mystery, every mercy, every title of honour, every benefit, every grace, every effort of divine love, which we adore in the whole pro- cess of his Incarnation, Life, Death, Resurrection, Ascension, and Coming, as sovereign Judge of the living and dead. This sacred Name of Jesus presents to our mind the majesty and glory of his Divinity, the most endearing charms of his humanity, under the character of the divine Saviour and eternal Spouse of our souls. The adorable Name of Jesus was given by the Father to his only co-eternal Son, to be the title of his supreme majesty, power, and dominion, and of his glorious victory over sin and hell, and to ex- press in him the unexhausted source of all grace, blessings, and com- fort which he is to us.

The holy Name Jesus was given to our blessed Redeemer at his Circumcision. It was a devout custom among the Jews to name the male children at that religious ceremony — a custom derived from

* Lanfrancus in Statutis, tfcc. *> Capitulum Gaudete.

c Veni ad liberandum : Rorate Coeli.

? Martezme de Ant. Monach, IUtibus, 1, ii, <fcc,

HOLY YAM* 09 JB8V0.

T*HL]

their holy Patriarch Abmham ; for when he was circumcised, God changed his name, Abram, i. #. High Father, into Abraham, which signifies Father of multitudes. (Gen. xvii.) It is, indeed, mo9t fitting, that at the time when a person is enrolled among the chil- dren of God, honoured with his alliance and most preeious graces, sad made heir of his eternal promises, he should then take a name, which (nay he a title, or badge of his honour, and always put him in mind of the sublime character which he bears, from which he dates a new heavenly life. Christ would take his august Name at his Cir- cumcision, to conform himself in all things, not only to the ordi- nances, but even to the pious customs of the people of God, and of the law ; to teach us to conceive the greatest love and esteem of, and the most scrupulous fidelity in, all the religious practices and rites of the churoh. This ceremony was also most suitable for taking this sacred name, which signifies Saviour, because he showed himself our Saviour, by offering the first fruits of his precious blood, the price of our redemption.

We must not imagine that an angel, or St. Joseph, or the Virgin Mary herself, gave this name to the divine Infant ; St. Luke assures us, that the archangel Gabriel brought it from heaven before Christ was conceived. (Luke i. 31.) It was then revealed to Mary ; h was again discovered by an angel in another vision to St. Joseph. (Matt. i. 21.) These visions and revelations serve to raise our ex- pectation and veneration of this mystery, lest we should look upon it with indifference. They were only preparatory ; the mystery was reserved to God himsett $ it was necessary that God himself should give the name to his own Son. None but the eternal Father had such a right amongst men ; even it is the father’s prerogative to name his children, and those names are most suitable which agree to, or express the nature and most essential excellence of the things which they signify. Adam, who knew the natural properties of all living creatures upon egrth, gave to each a name expressive of its nature. Among the ancient patriarchs, and our own remote ancestors, parents who knew not the characters, or future dispositions or actions of their children, often borrowed their names from trifling circumstances which attended their birth, or from imaginary qualities with which they hoped they would be endowed ; in which how often did the event disappoint their expectations ? We frequently see the most illustrious names borne by the most infamous of men. Christ ought to bear the name which best expressed his mo9t adorable character. The father alone knew perfectly the unmeasurable excellencies of his dignity, nature, and functions : He alone fully comprehended his consubsiantial an d co-eternal Word ; the boundless perfections of his divine nature and person ; the unsearchable mystery of hiS* incar- nation, or his quality of Redeemer of the world. No angel, no creature in heaven ox earth, is capable of comprehending these his perfections and mysteries, each of which is an abyss which no finite understanding can fathom. The Father alone, to whom the right belonged., and who knew him from eternity, could give him a name agrafe to his oharastejc wd dignity.. Som prophet* have

HOLT NAME OF JESUS*

[Tr. in.

received names from heaven, but not as Jesus, to whom God himself assigned a title, which he bears to eternity. For this mystery God chose the most suitable time ; beholding his Son, the object of his infinite complacency and love, clothed with the veil of a created nature, in the likeness of sinners, subjected to the humbling knife of circumcision, in order to honour him before all creatures, declared that he was no sinner, but that he was innocence and sanctity itself, who came to justify sinners. This he did by bestowing on him a name of glory ; a name above all other names, at the sound whereof all creatures are bound to bend their knees and adore him.

The word Jesus signifies Saviour :a The Jews could not be sur- prised to hear the divine infant called by this name, which had been taken of many others. We meet with Jesus, or Jehosuah, the son of Nun, of Jesus the son of Sirach, and Josephus mentions a certain Jew called Jesus, who foretold the impending ruin of their city and nation ; but in these the name was only an appellative, a shadow, not expressing any reality, or, at most, it denoted only a deliverer of a particular nation from slavery or other temporal calamities : It was not so in our divine Redeemer : “ This, my Jesus," says St. Ber- nard,6 “ does not bear an empty name which imports nothing ; it is “ not in him a shadow of a great name, but the truth.” He is truly and emphatically our great, our only Saviour, who has rescued us from sin, and that deluge of infinite evils and endless miseries into which it had plunged us, moreover purchased for us all good, all the advantages of grace, and an immense eternal bliss and glory. Lastly, has subdued and triumphed over death and hell, and delivered man from their jaws by his redemption. This wonderful salvation he has wrought at the infinite price of his incarnation, sufferings, and death, from which mystery the Godhead itself receives an infinite glory, su- perior beyond all comparison to that which accrues to him from the homages and fidelity of all mere creatures, a glory commensurate to his own immensity, and worthy of him. In recompence of this vic- tory is Christ’s humanity exalted above all pure creatures ; as man, he is declared by the Father in an order far above them all, and ap- pointed by him supreme judge of all men, the living and the dead.

The most illustrious Roman conquerors often took names or titles of honour from countries which they had subdued, or from some great victory or exploit ; as the African, the Asiatic, the Parthian, the Germanic, the Dacic, &c. This was foolish flattery and idle vanity ; but nothing in God himself challenges our homages of ado- ration and love in a stricter and more sacred manner than his good- ness and mercy, which is over all his works. Nor does this attribute shine forth in any of them with such a bright and overpowering blaze as in the incarnation. It was, therefore, most suitable that he should take his name from this glorious work of our salvation, and his victory over the devil and sin ; nor could any name be more glo-

* Jesus— in Hebrew Jesuah, or Jehosuah. ». e. Saviour. See St. Thomas, 3 p.

Qu. 4 7 • a. 2. Suarez 2. in 3. S. Thomas, Tom. ii. Disp. 15. Seel. 2.

b Non ad instar priorum mens iste Jesus Nomen vacuum <fe inane portal : non eat in eo magni pominis Umbra ged veritas. — St Bern. Sena, i, de Circumcis.

HQLY NAME OF JESUS.

-S m

a. III.

nous in him, or more amiable to us. He hath saved us, and that by huxpbling himself even to the death of the cross ; for which cause God bath exalteth him, and hath given him a name which is above all naipes ; that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those that are in heaven, on eartii, and under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father. (Phil. ii. 9» 10, 11.) This name presents to us the God-Man, who is the true God, proceeding from the true God, in- finitely holy, wise, powerful, and merciful, made man to become our Saviour, showing pledges and tokens of mercy and love, bearing the marks of his sufferings for us, prints of his wounds, and displaying all the charms of grace and virtue ; him in whose faith and name alone we can be saved (Acts iv. 12 (John iii. 16); xiv. 6); in whose redemption Adam believing was raised from his sin ; him at the sight of whose day to come, Abraham exulted with joy (John viii. 5o) ; him whom all the prophets foretold, and all the ancient just sighed after, and solicited heaven for with continual tears ; who was the de- sired of all nations ( Ag. ii. 8) ; and the desire of the eternal hills ( Gen. xlix. 26) ; the end of the law (Rom. x. 4) ; the omnipotent Word, who from eternity dwells in the bosom of his Father (John i.) $ in whom are locked up all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge

iCol. ii. 3) ; who is one with his Father (John x. 30) ; born of him rom eternity (Ps. cix.) ; truly the Son of God ; whom the Father loves, and in wnose hands he has put all things (Matt. xvii. 5 John iii. 35) ; and loves all who love him (John xiv. 23) ; the perfect substantial image of the Father, in whom all his infinite perfections are expressed (Heb.c. iii.) ; the figure of his substance, the splendour of the eternal light, the increated wisdom, his eternal self-existing Word (John i.&c.) ; who doeth all which the Father doth (John v. 26) ; by whom all things were made (John i. 3 Col. i. 16) ; in whom all things are and subsist (Col. i. ; Sap. ix. 26) ; the heir of all things (Heb. c. i. ; (Heb. xi. 1 — 8) ; Ps. viii.) ; to whom the Father hath given us (John xvi. 15), and all nations. (Ps. xi.) He is our only mediator (Tit. iii. 5 (GaL iii. 20) ; Col. c. ii.) ; brings us to the Father, and reconciles us with him (John xiv. 6 Eph. ii. 19); takes away our iniquities (Eph. i. 16), and effaces the Handwriting which was against us, and all the bonds of our debts (Col. ii. 14); is our most merciful Redeemer (Isa* xii. 14 ; (Col. i. 13) (Rom. viii. 2) (Gal. iv. 5) (Heb. x. 14), 15) ; delivering us from the slavery of sin and all evil with the price of his blood (1 Pet. i. 18 ; (1 Cor. vi. 20) Tit. ii. 14) ; our eternal high priest, placed at the right hand of the Father, offering himself for us (Heb. v. 5; Ps. c. ix.; Ps. xliv. ; (Heb. vii. 26) (Heb. x. 11), 12) ; in whom we are filled with all blessings (Eph. i. 4) ; our victim voluntarily offering himself (Eph. v. 2 ; 1 John iii. ; (1 Peter i. 24) ; John v.), and presenting supplica- tions for us (Heb. v. 7 John xvii. 17) ; our victim on the cross by the effusion of his blood (Heb. ix. 23), and continued in an unbloody sacrifice on our altars (Mai. i. 11 ; (1 Cor. xi. 23) (Heb. x. 14) ; xi. 28) ; our pattern and model in carrying his cross, and in all sanctity and virtue.

bolt kahs <nr JESTS.

Our Father of whom we are born, not only by creation, but more gloriously m spirit, and by predestination to his grace and glory (Isa. i x. 6 ; (Heb. xi. 1) 3) ; the King of kings and Lora of lords, whoso spiritual kingdom is of all nations, and of all ages (Eph. i. ; John xii. $ 1 John Hi.) ; in particular, king of our souls by his love, by which he reigns in us by the continual display and effusion of his graces, and by the homage and obedience of our hearts, and all our powers and faculties (Apoc. xix.6 ; Zach. ix. 19 ; Luke Hi. ; (Ps. cxliv. 13) ; Luke xHi. ; 1 Cor. xu. 24, 28) ; our head in whom we are fellow members and one with him (Ephes. Hi. 17 | John iv. 16), by the union of cha- rity, and the most sacred incorporation in him, with the abundant effusion of his merits and graces; our most loving and faithful spouse (Ephes. i»; (John xv. 5); Mai. ix. 5; Col. i. ; (Eph. v. 30) (Apoc. xix. 7) ; xxi. ; (2 Cor. xi. 2) Apoc. xxii. 17) ; the way which leads us to God ; the life of our souls, the eternal and unchangeable truth ; our doctor and legislator ; our bread and our strength ; our light, our comfort and joy ; our peace, our judge, our happiness, and our last end. All these, and the other titles and qualities which the holy scriptures attribute to Christ, this holy name comprises, with the abstract of all the other names which are given him by the Holy Ghost, as the strong God who disarms the power of hell, the admir- able, whose life and doctrine are full of incomprehensible mysteries ; the father of wise counsel (or fountain of wisdom) ; the father of the world to come, or of the church of saints ; the prince of peace who re- conciles all things in heaven and on earth ; the Christ, or anointed by his Father, with the plenitude of all grace ; the Messiah, or who was to be sent ; Emmanuel, or God with us ; the prophet emphatically so called, Ac. For all his other equalities flow from, or make up his cha- racter of Saviour. This glorious name calls to our mind his holy seal, love, and ardent desire of our salvation, his meekness, merciful* ness and goodness, with all his other divine virtues, the torments and ignominies which he suffered for us, the mysteries which he per- formed, and all he has done for us, and all the benefits he has con- ferred upon us. This glorious name expresses also in him the source of all graces.

The faith, hope, charity, humHity, purity, devotion, and other vir- tues of all the saints, all the gifts, spiritual beauty and glory, with which they are adorned, are the rich fruits of Christ’s salvation. There is no other name under heaven given to men whereby we must be saved. (Acts iv. 12.) Of his plenitude we have all re- ceived. (John i. 16.) From his salvation and victory we derive also all our strength, and all the victorious graces by which we overcome our spiritual enemies. This name must always excite our veneration and love, and give glory to God, and be most pleasing to him. This name of Jesus, pronounced or repeated by the heart in a spirit of love and prayer, is most powerful. By it the servants of God have often commanded all nature, restored the dead to life, cured all distempers, and filled the world with miracles. S. Peter healed the lame man, by saying : “ In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, arise and “ walk.” (Acts iii. 6.) By it the powers of darkness have been dis-

HOLT NAME 6* JEStJfl.

ti fti. j

armed in every part of their empire ; of it we may repeat, the name of the Lord is to be praised from the rising of the sun to the setting thereof. (Ps. cxii. 3.) Over all nations and provinces is the sound of the name of Jesus heard. St. Bernard cries out:* “ O name! “ worthy of all blessing and praise.” Its sweet perfume was shed from heaven upon Judea, ana thence spread over the whole earth. The church in all parts of the world sings : Thy name is oil poured out; its perfumes have not only filled the heaven and earth, but have also reached hell, though in a very different manner. All creatures are invited or compelled to pay their homages, and repeat in concert, thy name is an oil poured out.

It is a name of terror to the devils, who tremble at the sound when it is devoutly pronounced ; not that the material syllables con- tain any virtues or cnarm ; but they are drove away by the power of him who is pleased with the love, confidence, and devotion of those who in these sentiments honour and invoke his name. And the in- fernal spirits are dismayed and disarmed at the thunder of that holy name by which they were vanquished, and which they are compelled to adore. Hence it has often chased them out of those whom they corporally possessed, and when devoutly invoked, it weakens the power of the tempter in his assaults. That Christians thus, by an ordinary rule, expelled devils out of demoniacs in the primitive ages, is attested by the unanimous consent of the fathers, and other writers of those early times. Any devil adjured byjthe name of Christ, is vanquished and subdued, says S. Justin, b the most learned and an- cient primitive father and martyr. And in his second apology before the Roman senate, within fifty years after the days of the apostles, he says : He is called Christ because he is anointed ; which very name has m it a mystical signification. As also the appellation God, is not a name but a sign of something unutterable added to a human nature. But Jesus has both the name and signification of Saviour. For he was made man, according to the decree of him who is God and the father, for the salvation of men who believe in him, and to over- throw the devils; as you may understand from the things which you now see. For many over the whole world, and even in your own city ( Rome) itself possessed by devils, were cured and set free. The devils themselves have been vanquished and driven away by some of our Christians adjuring and exorcising them in the name of Jesus, after all other exorcists and enchanters had tried their skill in vain to help them.0 The devils are vanquished by the name of Jesus Christ.d 3. Gregory Nazianzen says Julian the apostate passed a law, commanding Christians to be called Gallilseans, not from Christ, because he looked upon this latter as a name of honour, un- less, perhaps, he did this, because, like the devil, he dreaded the name of Jesus.6 And writing to Nemesius, a heathen, he says, nor ought it to seem surprising that Christ had so great power, for I my-

* S. Bern. Serm. xv. in Canticles. b 8. Justin. Dial. cum. Tryphone, p. 161.

6 S. Justin Apol. iL ad Sen. n. 5. p. 172, ed. Cantabrig. Anno 1768.

4 lb. No. 8, p. 178, « S. Greg. Naz. Or. i. in Julian, p. 606.

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self, who believe in him, most frequently have scarcely pronounced his name, when the devil speedily betakes himself away with noise and indignation, proclaiming the power of the immortal 'God,' which has also frequently happened to me when I formed the figure of his cross, not only on a board, but even in the bare air : for the figure alone is his standard erected/ It is affirmed also by Teirtullian, the most ancient Latin Christian writer, who bids the pagans spill on the spot the blood of that Christian whose prayer, in the name of Jesus, should fail to cast the devil out of a demoniac presented to him.b With such confidence did the Christians of those days chal- lenge the heathens to the trial, that none of their oracles, and no fiends in persons possessed by them, could stand the sound of the holy name of Jesus, or the sight of the cross. This is more powerfully experienced against the spiritual assaults of the devil. S. Teresa and others show, from daily experience, the like powerful succour in time of temptations, from the humble and earnest invocation of Jesus, through his sacred cross and precious blood.

The name of Jesus is the strongest incentive of emulation and edi- fication in every virtue, with the ardent love and sentiments of which it inspires us from the perfect model which he sets before us, and by the grace of him who is honoured and invoked by it. When we reli- giously pronounce it, or call Jesus to mind, we represent to our- selves the most humble, the most tender, charitable and meek of heart, the most spotless, innocent and holy, the most chaste and mer- ciful of men ; a divine man endowed with all sanctity, all'grace, all virtues. We, at the same time, represent to ourselves that this man is also the omnipotent God, who, whilst he sets before us on one side, the example of his holy life to imitate, gives us, on the other, light, strength, and grace to copy after it, and to form our hearts and conversation upon this perfect model/ All manner of good things present themselves to my mind, when the name of Jesus sounds in my ears,*? says S. Bernard. We must never repeat the holy name without sentiments of adoration and love, and without feeling an ear- nest desire and resolution of imitating him who is the Holy of holies, and the perfect pattern of sanctity. This requires great fer- vour, and courage, for the world and the passions raise violent storms, fcud throw snares and difficulties in our way. But we must be re- solved to pursue steadily the path set before us, without regarding any disgrace, contradictions, and sacrifices, which it may cost us. We have not yet resisted to blood, nor borne a cross like our Re- deemer's. If we have him before our eyes, we shall cheerfully em- brace all tribulations and ignominies for his sake. Jesus will be our strength if we carry his name always in our hearts : if we ask the apostles, martyrs, and all other glorious saints, whence they drew their invincible courage, by which they conquered the world and hell, they will all point out Jesus, and proclaim the power of his name, in

* S. Greg. Naz. 1. ad Nemesium Ethnicum, p. 879.

b Tert. Apolog. c. xxiii.

c Sumo i tuque mihi Exemplar de Homine et A ux ilium a potente. S. Bern.

* Omnia hsec bona mihi sonant cum insonuerit Jesus. S. Bern. ib.

T*. III.] holy tfAJtfE 6f Jesus. 85

which alone they were saved. He who said of his disciples : .In my name they shall cast out devils, (Mark xvi. 17,) has promised to au who call upon his name, strength to repulse all their fiery darts, and triumph over all tribulations. The cross on which is written the name of our great captain, is the standard of our spiritual warfare, in which we place our glory and all our confidence : we shall rejoice in thy salvation, and in the name of our God we shall be exalted. (Ps. xix. 6.)

If the adorable name of Jesus, when invoked with devotion, be & shield of omnipotence to protect us in battle, it is a fountain of inex- pressible sweetness and joy to all true lovers of their God and Redeemer : its very sound filled their whole hearts with love and pleasure, awaking our attention and love to our infinitely gracious dnd amiable God and Saviour, made man for our sake. For us he lay in a manger, wept, was circumcised, loaded with calumnies and re- proaches, was buffeted, scourged, and crucified. For our justification he rose from the dead, ascended in glory, and sits at the right hand of the Father. The saints never could satiate their souls, burning with his love in repeating this sacred Name with adoration and tender devotion. Augustin, even before his baptism and conversion, tells us that he found much delight in Cicero’s book, now lost, called Hortensius, which contained a beautiful pathetic exhortation to love and pursue wisdom; but adds,* in this so great ardour one thing only displeased me, that I found not there the names of Christ. For this name, through thy mercy, O Lord, this name of my Saviour, thy Son, my tender heart had piously imbibed with my mother’s milk, and deeply retained ; and whatever wanted this name, how learned, how elegant, or instructive soever it might be, did not perfectly satisfy me. Many will say they feel nothing of this sweetness and delignt ; this may sometimes be an effect of an interior trial of spi- ritual dryness or desolation of the soul ; but to many we may answer : How should they be delighted or comforted with this name who have no feelings of his love, and all are coldness and indifference toward him, whose hearts are even enslaved to criminal passions, and full of irregular desires of worldly honour, riches, and pleasure. Ah ! bring one of those souls that love their crucified Jesus, and she will feet and understand what is here said.

Our devout countryman, S. Aelred, in his preface to his book on spiritual friendship, b tells us, that after he had once tasted the sweet- ness of this holy Name, the eloquence of Tully, with which he had been formerly much delighted, became dry and insipid to him, because he could relish nothing where he did not meet with that adorable name of Jesus, or something which called it to his mind; S. Jerome remarks,6 that St. Paul repeats often the name of his deter Redeemer, even where it is superfluous, and sometimes where it rather renders the sense embarrassed ; he would name him whom he

• S. Aug. Conf. 1. iii. c. 4. ,

b Bibl. Patr. ed Colon. T. xiii. p. 130, and in MSS. in the British Museum., c Hier. in Ephes. ii. 13. T. iv. p. 334. ed. Ben.

HOLY FAME OP JE?09. fT* Hf

loved, even needlessly, and out of place, which the attentive reader may observe in all his epistles, without our remarking it, says he. St. Bonaventure writes in his life of St. Francis,* that this seraphic lover recited the psalms with great devotion of spirit, and when the name of God occurred in them, he showed in his accent and features an inexpressible sweetness which his heart felt in that word, out of tender love and veneration* He once persuaded his brethren to pick up and lay in some decent place all written papers found on the ground, lest the name of God should occur in them and be trampled upon. When be pronounced and heard the holy name of Jesus, he was filled interiorly with jubilee of heart, so as to appear altered exteriorly in his body, as if ravished with some sweet sound or taste. St. Francis of Sales,* exhorting a superior of a nunnery never to leave Jesus alone in spirit, because he makes it his delight to be with us and have us present. To him, he adds, the breasts of the sweet Jesus are full of delicious milk, and are, as it were, painful unless Some spiritual babe present itself to receive the delicious juice of his love. This we do by amorously invoking his name, at least in spirit, find uniting ourselves with him in heart and affection. The same tender lover of Jesus writing to a devout widow, begins thus his letter :c I have no time to write only the great name of salvation, Jesus ; O could, O could we once pronounce this holy name of sal- vation from our hearts, what sweetness would it diffuse to our souls. How happy should we be, had we nothing in our understanding or mind but Jesus; nothing in our will but Jesus; nothing in our memory but Jesus ; nothing in our imagination but Jesus. In all things Jesus would be to us, and we should be in all things to him. But alas ! I cannot express what I mean by pronouncing this holy name. To speak of it, or to express it, we ought to have a tongue of fire. St. raulinus in elegant verse cries out : O God, O Christ, thou art all sweetness, all love, thou canst rather fill than satiate, thou communicatest thyself to us, yet art the more thirsted after thou art received by our souls, yet love is not satiated.d St. Bernard writes,*

I take to myself his example from his humanity, and succour from his omnipotence ; of these I make up a sovereign healing composition, the like to which no one among the physicians could never make any. This electuary, thou hast my soul laid up in the little vessel of his name, most powerful to heal every pestilence in thee. Let it be always in thy breast, always in thy hand, that all thy thoughts, desires, and actions may be directed to him. In the same place he compares the name of the spouse to oil, for as oil furnishes warmth, healing physic, and food, so this name enlightens and warms the soul, feeds and cherishes the affections of the heart, heals it sores, and assuages its pains. Art not thou comforted and strengthened, says he, so often as thou callest it to mind ? What so fills the soul with sweet- ness and spiritual joy ; what so recruits the wearied spirits and senses,

• C. x. b L. ii. Ep. 25\ ed. vel. c lb. 1. viii. ep. 10. p. 1085.

d S. Paulin. Carm. de celso Puero, p. 664.

• S. Bern. Serm, xv. in Cant. See m Serm. ii. de Circnmci*.

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repairs the inward strength, gives vigour to virtue, cherishes pure Suections ? All food of the soul is dry if this oil be not poured upon it. It is insipid unless seasoned with this salt. If thou writest, it does not relish to me unless I read there Jesus. If thou disputest or boldest a conversation, it does not relish to me unless the sound of the name of Jesus be heard there. Jesus is honey in the mouth, music in the ear, jubilation in the heart. This name is also the sovereign healer : is any one amongst us overwhelmed with sorrow ? Let Jesus come into his heart, and thence into his mouth ; and be- hold at the light of this name, all clouds are scattered, peace and joy appear, &c. Devotion to the holy name of Jesus is a mark of the love which a soul bears him, and thus may it be called a badge of the predestinated. The saints in heaven bear it written on their foreheads, by the marks which they wear in their glory, that whatso- ever they are or possess is derived from him. The whiteness of their fobes, the lustre of their crowns, the dazzling rays of the glory which lurrounds them, their joy, their immortality, are his gifts ; and of this they wear in their glory the shining ensigns, which proclaim loudly to all creatures his glory, grace, and victory, in all their virtues. This is that new name which no one knoweth but himself. (Apoc. xix. 12.) The saints on earth, and the whole church militant, are also marked with this seal, and by it acknowledge that they belong to the Lamb, and receive from him all their spiritual beauty and advantages. The name of Jesus expresses the excess of love which he bears us; also bis infinite mercy in which he has healed all our wounds, procured preservatives and remedies against all vices, delivered us from the power of the devil, reconciled us to his Father, satisfied his justice, cancelled all our debts, and removed all the obstacles of our sal- tation. This name, whenever we repeat it, must awaken in our breasts a most tender love, in return for his infinite love ; it must excite in us the strongest sentiments of gratitude and devotion, and an ardent desire to dedicate our souls with our whole strength to bis love and service, and to draw others to the same. Thus St. Paul repeated this holy name so often, because his language was the gfnision of his heart, which tasted in it the sweetness and felt the ardour of his love. In these sentiments he laboured so much to make thi9 adorable namo known to all men, had it so frequently in his mouth, and continually in his heart ; such must be the devotion of our heart whenever we pronounce it.. Thus it will be at once an act of faith, hope, charity, compunction, supplication, and entire oblation and sacrifice of ourselves to God. In these sentiments we cannot repeat it too often, especially in temptations, dangers, and tribulations/ Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! be to me a Jesus, show mercy

m When we call upon Jesus, we do not separate him from the Father or the Holy Ghost, who have the same nature and will with him in his divinity, so that their exterior gifts proceed from the whole blessed Trinity; and the divine essence or nature being one, whatever honour is paid to one person, is paid to all three ; thus the blessed Trinity is glorified by it. He that loveth him that bint, loveth also him that is begotten, says St John, (1 John v. 1,) and Christ todarei, ho that hateth me, hateth my Father also, (John xv. 3)$. But though

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[Tk. III.

and save me : no one speaks it thus but he who loves, says St Augustin/ It is likewise a homage of adoration and praise to our Redeemer.

Jesus is a name of triumph and glory, given him to be the title of honour which he bears to eternity, and which expresses his glorious victory over sin and hell. A victory in its object, manner, advan- tages, and all its circumstances, the most astonishing mystery, the most incomprehensible in itself, the most adorable to all creatures, and the most honourable to the Deity, to which it procures an hom- age equal to his immensity. This name of the glory of our Re- deemer ought to be most venerable to all who love him, or have the least spark of zeal for his honour. We are obliged to honour this name, not only out of duty and gratitude ; but also by obedience to his Father, who, to honour his son with him, has commanded that every knee in heaven and on earth, in religious awe and devotion, and in hell, by constraint and fear, should bend to adore him at the sound of his religious name. (Phil. ii. 10.)b It is an ancient law and custom of the church, that all the faithful testify their veneration for the holy name of Jesus, by bowing their head whenever they pro- nounce or hear it. This ecclesiastical precept is confirmed by the General Council of Lyons/ recorded in the body of the canon law. Many Protestants of the Church of England observe this pious cus- tom, both in public worship and elsewhere ; and many of their learned prelates and theologians have proved against the rigid Cal- vinist, that it is a wholesome act of religion, conformable to the divine precept of honouring this name.

The Councils of Avignon for that province, and of Bezieres, for that diocese, granted in the 14th century an indulgence of ten days to those, who in dispositions of sincere contrition for their sins, devoutly bow their head in pronouncing the holy name of Jesus. Pope Sixtus V. gave an indulgence of twenty days for the whole church on the same condition. Every grateful lover and faithful adorer of our cru-

we owe our redemption to tlie infinite mercy of God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost, we are particularly engaged to the second person, who personally became man for us, and is the author and finisher of our faith : on this account we frequently address our devotions in honour of the mysteries of our redemption, particularly to the Son, but in and through him to all the Trinity. A second reason is, because Christ beiug not only God, but also man, and mediator betwixt God and man ; we pray and we worship God, by and through Christ's humanity, and by that we please God and deserve his love. ( (1 John iv. 9). (John v. 21). 23. (John xii. 26).) Hence, by the name of Jesus, we honour and invoke Christ as Man-God, and with his divine person the divine nature, and by circum-insession or in-dwelling, to use the Scholastic term, with the second person, the Father and Holy Ghost, as by this in-dwelling all the three persons are always with each other in one individual nature.

* S. Aug. Tr. 4. in Joan.

b See Suarez 3. port, de Adoratione, near the End. Vasquez. 1. ii. de Adorat. Dis. viii. c. 10.

c C. Decret. de. Immunit. Eccl. 1. v. See Navar. 1. de Oratione. c. 4. n. 5. See also the pious Cardinal Paloeoto, Archbishop of Bologna, the Prelate who holds the second place after St. Charles Borromeeus among those whose eminent zeal and learning were most conspicuous in restoring the primitive spirit and dis- cipline among the faithful, in suo Archiepiscopali Boloniensi, pp. 78 and 81,

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cified Redeemer Jesus, is struck with horror to hear his holy name, at the sound of which, angels adore with awe and love, and devils tremble, impiously profaned, filling up impious exclamations and idle unmeaning discourses, and the most horrible oaths, execrations, and blasphemies: such horrible impiety kindles in our breasts an ardent zeal to repair his honour, by making all amends in our power by compunction and the most fervent homages of adoration, praise, and love.

Against the impious custom of swearing, a pious confraternity was erected by Pius IV., and confirmed by St. Pius V. and Urban VIII., with a grant of a plenary indulgence, on the feast of the Cir- cumcision of our Lord, and of one hundred days each time, for hin- dering a rash oath, or blasphemy in another. Every member is obliged to correct or pray for a person who swears rashly in their hearing. It is their first salutation, when they meet any one on the road to address them in the doxology : praised be God, or praised be Jesus ! which practice is recommended by an indulgence given to persons in the confraternity every time they devoutly use this salu- tation, or answer it by crying, Amen! This is extended by other con- cession to all the faithful: for Sixtus V., in J587, granted to all Chris- tians an indulgence of 50 days, every time a person salutes another with these words, either in Latin or in any vulgar language : praised be Jesus Christ ! and as many to him who shall answer, Amen, or for ever, or through all ages !a An indulgence of 25 days to those who shall pronounce with reverence and devotion the name of Jesus, or that of Mary, with a plenary indulgence at the article of death ; if having made this salutation their habitual practice, they shall then piously invoke Jesus in their hearts, if they are not able to do it with their lips, and an indulgence of 300 days each time, for piously reci- ting the litany of Jesus, and 200 for that of the B. V. Mary. These indulgences were confirmed by Benedict XIII,, in I728.b

If we are bound never to mingle the adorable name of Jesus in profane discourse, but to honor it with exterior respect in our words and behaviour, we ought to be solicitous to accompany this with great sentiments of interior veneration, awe, and devotion, and never to pronounce it* but with hearts penetrated with holy dread and respect, and animated with love and confidence by the Holy Ghost. No one can say Lord Jesus, but in the Holy Ghost. (1 Cor. xii. 3.) Thus we shall always find it a name of sweetness, love, and hea- venly comfort; a name of sanctity, and all virtues — truly a name of salvation. Jesus is to us all our good, our saviour, our king, the spouse of our souls, our physician, our protector, our advocate, our light, our strength, our comfort, our joy, our only God, our only sovereign and eternal happiness. To unite ourselves to him in heart and spirit under all these characters, and to consecrate ourselves to

"Laudetur Jeans Christas, reap. Amen, seu in Seculaseu semper. Italice, Sia lod&to Giesu Christo. Those who call this an indulgence of 100 days, join together the persons who make the salutation and him who answers it

" See Amocl. Hist Indul. fol. in Supplem. ult. p. 74. item Histoire des Indul- gences, 12mo. a Paris, 1702.

JIOL? *4*OB Of WW.

[T*. IIL

his love, and implore his continual succour, we ought often to repeat to him in our hearts, with the most feeling sentiments of devotion :

Jesus, Jesus, my Jesus and my all !,,a Through him we must offer all our devotions to the adorable Trinity. In his name we must perform all our actions : whatever you do in word or in work, do all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. ( (Col. iii. 17) (Eph. v. 20).) Our greatest happiness must be ever to engage him to bless the beginning, the process, and the end of all our undertakings, and all our actions ; to be animated more and more perfectly in all we do with the holy spirit, and always to bear him in our hearts by his divine love. But in sentiment of profound adoration, love, praise, compunction, humi- lity, confidence, and earnest supplication, we ought to bear this sacred name in our heart, and at prayer to have it often in our mouth, especially in all distresses and the agonies of death ; and least we should not then be able to pronounce it, let us do this with all possi- ble devotion in our daily evening prayers for our last hour. He says to every one of us: Put me as a signet upon thy heart, as a sig- net upon thy arm: (Cant. viii. 6.) we must prepare and open our hearts to him, that be may engrave on them his name in indelible characters of love, in order to inflame all our affections ; likewise iu pur minds, that we may make him the most noble and the darling object of our thoughts. We mu3t also engrave it on our arm, making him the beginning and end of every thing we do, that he may heal our irregular desires, strengthen our weakness, banish sloth, inconstancy, and pusillanimity, and enable us to execute the good resolution with which he inspired us ; that thus all our senses and actions may be invariably directed to him and his love.b The same love and zeal ought to engage us to do all that lies in us to contri- bute to the propagation of the glory of Jesus, of the kingdom of his love, and of the veneration of his name. O that all men would be induced to pay him their homages, that all tongues were employed in singing his praise, and in proclaiming aloud the sweetness of his love, the excellence of his perfections, and the power of his name. O that amongst men, whom he so mercifully redeemed, every knee on earth would bend at its sacred sound, as without exception all do, not only in heaven but also in hell. O divine Jesus ! cries out a devout ser- vant of God, on thee depends my happiness, my life, and my death : whatever I do shall be done under thy patronage, and in thy name : if I watch, Jesus shall be before my eyes; if I sleep, I wil^ close my eyes breathing his pure love ; if I walk, it shall be in the sweet com- pany of Jesus; if I sit, Jesus shall be at my side ; if I study, Jesus shall be my master ; if I write, Jesus shall conduct my hand and pen. It shall be my highest pleasure to write his holy name. If I pray, Jesus shall form and animate my prayers ; if I am fatigued, Jesus shall be my rest; if I am sick, Jesus shall be my physician and my comforter ; if I die, it is in the bosom of Jesus, who is my life, that I hope to die. J esus shall be my tomb, and his name end cross my

» Jesus metis et omnia. St. Amb. 1. de Viror.

* Semper tibi in firm sit, semper in mann, quo tui onrnei tennis in Jetton did* gantur et Aetue. S. Bern. Berm, 15. in Cant.

x*nw

HOLT NAME OF JESUS.

epitaph. To live united in spirit with Jesus, will be the best means of Hying every dajf more and more perfectly by his spirit, and of being sanctified by him in all our actions, thoughts, and words. By adoring and invoking Jesus so frequently in the day, that we may do it in desire and virtually in every action, we make our whole lives a perpetual sacrifice of praise and love to him, in the perpetual adora- tion of his divine majesty in acknowledgment of his infinite power and sovereignty, and of all his mercies and benefits, especially of his sacred incarnation and death. The Emperor Justinian gives the rea- son of this practice among all Christians ; because says he, we never can return due thanks and praise for the infinite benefit of his incar- nation. By the same practice we consecrate to God, and sanctify all our actions and thoughts through our Redeemer. The same Empe- ror says in his Code to the Roman Law, we always proceed to all deliberations and all actions in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.* And he begins his Institutes by this solemn prayer : In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. He begins also particular laws by the same or by this which is equivalent, and which our English municipal law retains in the ordinary form or style of wills; In the name of God, Amen. The primitive Christians expressed it by the sign of the cross before every action ;b and we may make this sign with our thumb on our breast, or at least repeat this invocation by a single fervent humble thought, without the danger of any one perceiving or taking notice of it. This agrees even with the style and practice of the Heathen Greeks and Romans, borrowed from the people of God. In that city, which in beginning and undertaking any manner of affairs, has recourse to the gods,* says the great historian of Rome. The Greeks opened all their Councils by a sacrifice.11 Hence the custom of their poets to begin every composition by the invocation of Some divinity, which even Lucretius observed. What the first principles of reason or the law of nature ingrafted in all hearts, taught the heathens in the midst of the darkest ignorance and spiritual blindness, and degeneracy of manners : what the divine pre- cept promulgated by the Apostle, inculcates sentiments of religion, love, and gratitude ; and duty to our God and Redeemer, ought to make us find our principal comfort, and happiness in, as well as our constant obligation and great eternal interest.

This perpetual union of our souls with God, in Jesus Christ, will be the sacrifice of our whole lives to him, and the most easy and perfect m$ans of our sanctification in all our actions and moments. We want no other prompter and incentive to it than a sincere and ardent love. This will render it not only easy, but even the great- est and uninterrupted joy of our lives. We shall soon find by expe-

» In nomine Domini nostri Jetra Christi ad omnia Contdlia omnea que Aetna semper progedimnr. Justin, cod. 1. i. tit. 27. leg. 2.

* Tert. de Cor. S. Cyr. Hier. Cat 8. Ephrem. dsc.

v Livy, p. 38, c. 48. See Cicero Orat pro Mursena initio. Plin. Panegyr. initio, dc.

4 See Aristophanes Acharn. v. 44, <fcc. See Dr. Taylor in his Elements of the (fril Law. Let. on Justice.

92 HOLY NAME Of JESUS. [t*B. III.

rience, and feel in the innermost powers of our souls, how sweet God is to those who love him, and who seek him with their whole hearts, (Ps. xxxiii. 9 ; xcix. 5 ; cxliv. 9>) and that his conversation has no bitterness, nor his company any tediousness, but joy and gladness. (Wisd. viii. 6.)

Besides such assiduous aspirations, we ought to have regular hours and devotions, to honour Jesus at leisure, and with greater recollec- tion in our closets, or at the foot of the altar, in presence of the adorable sacrament. We may recite with singular devotion, at cer- tain times every day before mass, or so often every week, the litany of the name of Jesus, recommended by an indulgence of 300 days, each time a person in the state of grace devoutly recites it. We may have, at least, set days for the short office of the incarnation, compiled by the devout Henry Suso, or that by Cardinal Berulle ; the litany of the name of Jesus, or other devotions in honour of the mystery in Blosius, &c. Nothing will more contribute to stir up and entertain in our souls the most fervent love of Jesus, and the most ardent devotion to his holy name, than frequent devout meditation on his holy life and adorable mysteries ; at least a quarter of an hour a day may be set apart for such an exercise ; or we may read with interruptions, so as to dwell on pious aspirations and resolutions, some part of the gospel, or in the meditations on the life of Christ by Lewis de Puente ; or those by F. Lewis of Granada ; or, at least, a Short Lecture in the Life of our Lord Jesus Christ, by F. Nepveu ; or in F. S. Jure’s Amour de Connoisance de J. C. Every Friday ought to be consecrated by some extraordinary mortification and de- votion, in honour of the sufferings of Christ, and every day, at least, by some short prayer ; and if at any time we hear the holy name of God, or of Jesus, profaned by a blasphemy, or rash oath, our heart should be ready to burst asunder with bitter grief. If we are not able to prevent, or correct such horrible sacrileges, in persons who are not under our jurisdiction, we ought in spirit to cover our heads with ashes, and make what amends we are able, by an interior act of humiliation, adoration, and praise, saying, with the blessed in heaven : “ Hallowed be thy name;” or with Habbaccuc, (Habbac. iii. 18,) “ I will rejoice in the Lord, and exult in God my Jesus or Saviour.” By aspirations and devotions, and love, praise and thanksgiving, we ought to return incessant thanks to God for this incomprehensible mystery of the incarnation and death of the Son of God. In this spirit we cannot too often repeat the Canticles of Praise, which the Holy Ghost has dictated in the divine Scriptures, as the Canticle of Zachary, or the Benedictus, that of the Blessed Virgin, called “ The Magnificat,” &c. In this spirit, St. Dominic instituted the Rosary, to teach the most ignorant an easy method of devoutly entertaining themselves on the principal points of the incomprehensible mystery of the incarnation, by which all our devotions are rendered acceptable to God, and for which our whole lives ought to be one perpetual sa- crifice of gratitude and praise. In a transport of lively faith and thanksgiving, the devout Jewess, in the gospel, pronounced “ the “ womb blessed which had borne him, and the breasts which had

HOLT NAME OF JESUS*

T*. III.]

44 given him suck.* The 44 Hail Mary" is repeated ten times in the Rosary, that the mind, by dwelling longer on the same great mys- tery, may be enlightened the better to understand it, and the heart more inflamed with love in praising God fqr it. If the blessed Virgin is pronounced Blessed, it is through her divine Son, and he is praised as infinitely blessed, and worthy atl homages, as the heavenly choirs sing in the Revelations of St. John. In honour of this mys- tery was the triple angelical Salutation, called the Angelus f instituted to be said morning, noon, and evening, by Pope John XXII. in 1316, introduced into France under Lewis XI. in 1472.b A plenary indulgence is granted to all, who having been at confession and com- munion on any day in the month, at their choice, shall say on their knees the Angelus at morning, noon, and evening, when the bell rings, and 1 00 days indulgence every time a person recites it on his knees on other days, as Benedict XIII. declares in his Indult, dated 14th September, 1724. The same Pope by a brief, dated the 6th December, 1727, extended these indulgences to those religious per- sons who, being hindered at that hour, shall recite it afterwards when it liberty. Benedict XIV. confirmed these indulgences on the 20th *f April, 1742, adding, that during the whole Paschal time, the an- them, with its verses and prayer, Regina cceli , is to be said standing, fo place of the Angelus . . Yet the indulgences are equally gained by those who, not knowing the Regina cceli , shall say the Angelus , but this is to be said standing all the Paschal time, and on all Sundays.6 The Church expressed her devotion to the holy name of Jesus, on the feast of the Circumcision, which is most remarkable in the old English Liturgy, both that in use before the Conqueror, and that of Sarum. St. Bernardin of Sienna, preaching penance in the chief cities of Italy, to exhort the Faithful to the love and service of our divine Redeemer, used, at the end of his sermons, to show the holy name of Jesus, surrounded with*rays of glory, painted on a board. Some fo und fault with this practice as a novelty ; and, by the Pope's ordering*, the cause was discussed in a solemn conference, or dispu- tation, in the Vatican church in 1427. St. John Capistran zealously defended the practice of his colleague, as proper to excite the devo- tion of the Faithful, with precautions, to prevent all danger of super- stition, so that it was approved by the holy see.d A particular office

m Those who take offence at the 44 Hail Mery,” or its frequent repetition, cer- tainly do not reflect that it is a doxology in honour of the incarnation, — the most adorable and incomprehensible of all the divine mysteries and benefits,— for which we can never return sufficient homages of thanksgiving and praise, though we devote to it all our powers and faculties, and all our moments. These forms of words ought to be most unexceptionable, being dictated by the Holy Ghost, and recorded in Scripture by his special inspiration, for the comfort, edification, and instruction of the Faithful, through all ages, to the end of the world, and to serve to nourish their piety and devotion.

* Mezeray’s Hist de France — Amort, <fec.

c See Bullarium Benedict XIV. et Amort Hist Indulgent.

d See S. Antoninus, 3 part. tit. xxii. c. 7 ; Bzovius in Annal. T. xv. ad An, 1436; Raynaldus ad An. 1432, n. xxiv. ; Spondan ad An. 1438, n. xxvii. ; Wad- ingin Anal, minor, ad An. 1427 ; Bolland in St Bernardino, ad xx. Mif, p. 308 ; Damianus Corneius, T. 1. iv. c. 10 — 12 ; Ayala Pictor Christianas, Liu. App. c. ii. Molunus de Picturia et imaginibus, nov. edit drc.

$4 HOtt NAME Cfr jifestff. fit ft £

ii honour of Christ, in memory of his sacred name, was composed by P. Bernardin de Bustis, a friar minor, and some time after allowed By Clement VIII. to the Franciscan order in 1530, to be stud on the 14th of January.* It was extended to the Carthusians in 1643» on the second Sunday after Epiphany, as appears from their breviary, printed that year at Lyons ; afterward to the Spanish dominions ; and, lastly, by Innocent XI II., in 1721, to the whole church on the second Sunday after the Epiphany. Sigonius, in his History of the Archbishops of Bologna, in his Life of Nicholas Albergati,b relates, that when St. Bernardin, by a zealous sermon against cards and dice, had persuaded the citizens to abolish those tables among them, and bring all their dice and cards to the preacher, who threw them into the nre, a man came to him in great distress, complaining, that he had supported his family in opulence by his trade of printing, and by this, his sermon, had been reduced to beggary. The Saint bade him print images of the name of Jesus, and that he would soon recover nis fortune. He gave him the model, by forming a circle round a sun, and in the middle the name of Jesus, expressed by three new forms of letters : the poor man did so, and in a short time raised a fortune. From this fact, we see the representation of this figure, to*

5 ether with that of the Saint, still under the gallery of the good esus.® On the institution of the office of the festivals of the noly name of Jesus; see Benedict XIV. de Canoniz. Sanctorum, 1. iv, pr. 2, c. 30, p. 301 — 303 ; also 1. de Festis, D. N. Jesu Christi, part i. p. 36—39*

* See Wading, 1. de Scrip toribus Ord. minor, V. Bernardinos de Bustis; also in Annal. min. ad. an. 1530, n. x.

kSigoniuis de Archiep. ; Bon on. 1. iv. n. ; Nicholas Albergati, 1. 18, Ac. 19.

, « Christ, as man, in tonality of onr High Priest, intercedes, presents the prints of his sacred wounds, his sufferings, and .death, and the adorable sacrifice of his body and blood for ns, as we are taught by the Prophets, Gospels, St. Paul, the Revelations of St. John, and the constant Tradition of the Catholic Church. Pope Benedict XIV. observes, that the dignity of the divine person requires, that, with the church, we should never address him in a style to intreat him to pray for us ; but to have mercy on us ; for he himself bestows the graces, which can only be obtained through his merits and prayer. The blessed Angels and Saints cannot give any grace ; but they only pray to God to give us his grace. The angels, indeed, are our guardians and protectors, by succouring ns many other ways within the reach of their faculties and power, and according to the dispensation and will of Divine Providence. They sometimes drive away the devil, preserve ns from certain dangers, and by the manner in which sprits com- municate conceptions, raise good thoughts, which, nevertheless, must be pro- duced by an immediate concurrence of the Holy Ghost, whenever they are made properly conducive to supernatural virtue and to eternal life. But it is by pro* senting our prayers, and oy praying for us, that they assist in moving God to bestow grace upon us. Nor does sacred authority any where insinuate that the souls of blessed Saints assist us ordinarily any other way than by praying for us, Ac. I say ordinarily, for we cannot deny extraordinary warnings to have been sometimes received by that special order of Providence, in visions of just departed souls ; nor does it seem impossible, but some holy souls may, by a like extraordi- nary appointment of God, communicate thoughts to living minds on earth, but such effects fall not under the ordinary course of Providence, and depend not on the mere will of any souls.

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6n f he Sundays between epiphanV

AND LENT.

CHAP. I.

Tfl* incomprehensible mystery of the Incarnation of the Son of God, the source of all our hope and spiritual joy, is the centre of all our devotions, and the object of our perpetual adoration, thanksgiving, ml praise : through it alone can our sacrilices be acceptable to Goa, and oof supplications propitiatory. In Christ, and through him only, #e offer all our homages to the divine majesty in all seasons. From Christmas to the festival of the purification of the Blessed Virgin, mother of God, the Church continues in some degree the feast or Commemoration of his nativity.* On this account, the white orna* meats of her altars and ministers express her holy jubilation, and Canticles of praise make up the chiefest part of her public prayer. She commemorates his sacred birth in the anthem of the Blessed Virgin, at the conclusion of every part of her canonical hours, in the first suffrage at Laudes and Vespers, and in the second collect, on all days for wnich the office is not double. The third is for the church 6t its chief pastor with his spiritual kingdom or church, and its pro- gram in grace and sanctity, being the principal fruit of Christ's incar- ttttioiy.

CHAP. II.

Os the Sunday* of Septuagesima, Sexagesimal , and Quinfmgmnuu

In the last holy festivals We were entertained with the good things of greet joy proclaimed to us by an angel, attended with the carols of

* The number of Sundays reckoned after the Epiphany depends on Easter fall- ing High or low, that is late or early ; these never can be more than six. If there be only one, which can very seldom happen, the mass of the second Sunday, which would otherwise be omitted, is read on the Saturday before Septuagesima. To have six Sundays after Epiphany is also a case so rare, that formerly no pro- per mam was assigned for a sixth ; bat when it happened, that of the fifth was repeated on it, as may be seen in the missals before S. Pius V., who ordered a proper mass to be inserted for the sixth Sunday. The Introit, Gradual, and Communion are, on the 4th, 6th, and 6th Snndays, the same as on the third, as we find them in the Antiphonary of St Gregory the Great; for when they do not find place in this season, they are necessary to complete the Snndays which are then added after Pentecost, when the Introit, Gradual, and Commu- nion are repeated from the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost The Epistle, Gradual, and Collect are proper on each Sunday. The Collects of the third and fourth Sundays after Epiphany are found in the Sacramentary of St Gregory the Great, who took them from that of St Ambrose, and others more ancient See Pame- lius and Menard, Not in Sacrum. S. Gregorii.

SUNDAYS BYT WEEN

£Tb .rr

the heavenly spirits ; we joined and accompanied them with repeated Hosannas and Alleluias, by which we adored the divine mercy ac- complished in our favour, and welcomed our King and our God, our all-powerful and infinitely gracious Redeemer, born in the midst of us to be our Saviour, Sanctifier, and eternal Spouse. Can we be ever drawn from this most sweet devotion ; from these most glorious, most amiable mysteries, on which we desire to entertain ourselves in sweet compunction, thanksgiving, praise, and love, without interrup- tion, to an endless eternity ? But in the next festivals we are called by the church from Bethlehem to Mount Calvary, to contemplate the same adorable Captain of our salvation, under the agonies of a cruel death, to complete the great work of our redemption, expiate by his precious blood and sufferings the debt of our iniquities, and invite and encourage us to take up our cross by penance, humility, patience, and resignation to his will under all pains and sufferings, and joyfully follow him in this path, that we may arrive at the happi- ness of partaking in the glory of his resurrection. Penance is tne employment of the whole life of a Christian : even whilst we cele- brate the divine mercies with praise and thanksgiving, our spiritual joy is mingled with sighs of holy compunction at the sight of our distance from heaven, our spiritual miseries and dangers, and those of others ; and above all, at the consideration of the inscrutable judg- ments of God, our numberless sins, and our continual infidelities and sloth in the divine service.

In Lent we abandon ourselves entirely to the tears of compunc- tion, in a severe course of penance, and in devout meditations on the sufferings of our dying Redeemer. This penitential course we enter upon by an humble confession of our sins, to which we dispose and prepare ourselves for three weeks by daily penitential pious reading and meditation on the last things and other motives of compunction, for a quarter or half an hour, and some additional prayer, whether some of the penitential Psalms, some moving aspirations of contrition or other supplications, to beg of God a perfect conversion of heart, by which we may begin to live altogether to him.

The three Sundays or weeks before the penitential fast of Lent, and the commemoration of Christ’s sufferings, are consecrated to the preparatory devotion of compunction and penance, that we may enter upon Lent in dispositions proper to sanctify its holy exercises. United in spirit with all true servants of God, we shall then be en- tertained with the sighs of penitent sinners, and the agonizing groans and loud cries of a dying Saviour, which rent the very rocks. These ought to pierce and break asunder the most hardened hearts. Com- punction must previously remove all obstacles from our souls. To this the church pressingly exhorts us by her prayers, lessons, and re- ligious rites and emblems during these preceding weeks. She clothes her altars and ministers with mourning attire, using only purple orna- ments ; the deacons assisting at the holy mysteries without a dalma- tic, and the sub-deacons without a tunic. On the altars the candles are of yellow, not of blanched or white wax, as in the holy offices of spiritual joy. For the same reason she lays aside her most solemn

EPIPHANY AND LENT.

Ch. II.]

doxologies or hymns of joyful praise ; the Te Deum at Matins, the Gloria in Excelsis at Mass, and the Alleluias, so often repeated at other times in her office. In the beginning of the Canonical hours, instead of Alleluia, a more humbling Latin doxology is substituted : “ Praise be to thee, O Lord, King of eternal glory.” In all other places Alleluia is omitted ; only when the office is sung, the words “ in Eternum” are allowed in its stead, for the sake of the music, as Beleth observed 300 years ago. In the room of the Versicles with Alleluias before the gospel at mass, is said in these penitential times, a tract, so called, because it is sung by the cantors alone, without any others answering, or without changing or interrupting the tone.* This tract consists of a certain number of verses continued, and suits mourning, or times of compunction and affliction. In Lent it is only added on all days on which all the people assembled at the mass, viz., Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. At this time the in- vitatory at Matins is a summons to penance instead of a doxology. And at Lauds, the psalms “ Dominus regnavit, and Jubilate,” be- cause expressions of abundant sentiments of joy are exchanged for the “ Misere, and Confitemini,” psalms made up of the most humble sentiments of feeling, compunction, and hope of the divine mercy. For a greater emphasis of the future omission of the doxologies of joy, in the Vespers of Saturday before Septuagesima, “ Alleluia,” is repeated twice after “ Benedicamus Domino ;” and twice after its responsary, “ Deo Gratias.” On Septuagesima, the Church, in order to call us to the consideration of our sius and miseries, and the know- ledge of ourselves, chooses for the lessons out of holy Scriptures to be read at Matins, the History of Man’s Creation and Fall. This spiritual wound entailed from Adam upon all his posterity, has been much increased by the immense load of our personal guilt, under the weight of which we are now particularly called upon to implore with sighs and tears the mercy of our omnipotent deliverer. To encourage us to cut off all sin, all inordinate self-love and dangerous attach- ments, and to embrace with fervour the exercises of penance. The Church, in the Epistle for Septuagesima, reads to us the most press- ing exhortations of the Apostle, (1 Cor. ix. 24, x. 5,) wherein he strongly lays before us the obligation we lie under of abstinence, watchfulness, and penance. He gives us his own example, and his fear of becoming himself a reprobate, should he be ever remiss in the continual practice of mortification, by which he constantly kept his body and passions in subjection. This is enforced by the terrors of the divine judgments, which only the small number who serve God with trembling and continual watchfulness, can hope to escape. In the gospel of the same Sunday, (Matt. xx. i. 7,) we learn the obliga- tion which all lie under, who are called to the faith, of labouring

* Ita didtnr quia tractim canitur, i. e. trahendo in longnro sine intermisaione. See Amalarius, 1. iii. c. 12. Doran ti, 1. ii. c. 2. Card. Bones 1. ii. c. 7. Vener. Card. Thomaaras in Prefat. antiqnornm Libromm Missarum. Merat. T. i. p. 61. See also Micrologus, or St. Isidore of Seville, c. xlvii. St. Leo IX. Cap. Duo. de Conaecr. distinct. 1. Sarnelli, 1. vi. ep. 8. PopeBened. XIV. Instit. xiv, u.* p.139,

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[Tm IV.

without intermission to their last breath in the great work of their salvation, by the works of penance and all sanctity, in which the re- compence will be measured, not so much by the duration, as by the fervour of the labourer.

In the epistle for Sexagesima, (2 Cor. xi. 19 5 xii. 10,) a model of humility and patience is set before us, in the account which the Apostle gives us of his sufferings for the faith : these virtues being most essential ingredients of penance, and of a Christian life. (Luke viii. 4, 16.) The gospel teaches us the necessary dispositions for hearing and meditating on the word of God, the seed of our conver- sion to God, and of all perfect virtue. But all depends upon our so hearing the divine word as to bring forth its abundant fruit. In the Epistle for Quinquagesima, (1 Cor. xiii. 1, 13,) the most excellent gift of divine and fraternal charity, the end and perfection of our pe- nance is recommended ; without which, neither mortifications nor any other virtues will avail us to salvation. In the gospel, (Luke xviii. 31, 43,) by the cure of the blind man, we are put in mind to seek the removal of our spiritual blindness, the greatest obstacle to our con- version, and to all spiritual knowledge and love; we must practise as- siduous holy meditation, and beg the divine grace and light to see God and his truth, the nothingness of earthly things, the boundless riches of the divine mercy, and the immensity of eternal glory. This gospel also sets before our eyes the sufferings of Christ, the great object of our devotion, during the whole Lent.*

* The earliest term of Septnageoma Sunday is the 18th of January, when Easter day falls on the 22nd of March ; the latest is the 22nd of February, when Easter happens on the 25th of April. The names by which these three Sundays are distinguished, are certainly derived from their destination to a preparatory pe- nitential term before Lent. In the Roman missal they are called the Sundays in “ Septuagesima, in Sexagesima, in Quinquagesima,” and this is the proper man- ner of expressing them ; but in common discourse, they are called Septuagesima Sunday, <fec. for brevity’s sake. The meaning of these names is, that as the Sun- days in Lent are called in Quadragesima, or within the forty days fast, so these are within the penitential terms of the fifty, of the sixty, and of the seventy days : for these terms were the limits of the whole penitential course, comprising also the preparatory days. It being also the custom of the church not to last on Sun- days even in Lent, which several churches extended to the great feast of the An- nunciation, that of a patron or titular saint ; and in the Greek church, also to the Saturdays, and sometimes to the Thursdays in Lent. Hence many, to com- plete the number of forty days in their fast, began it on the fiftieth, sixtieth, or seventieth day before Easter, which custom became general in certain churches, whence these terms grew more famous in the church. Some also were excused from fasting so many days in the week in Lent, on account of some corporal in- firmity, or other impediment, who out of their private devotion desired to com- plete the fast of forty days. And therefore to make up deficiencies, they began it on the fiftieth, sixtieth, or seventieth day before Easter. This account of the reason and etymology of these names of the three Sundays before Lent, is given by the Emperor Charlemagne, in a letter which he wrote on this subject to his master Alcuin. It was the result of his inquiries in a learned assembly of Bishops and others who were well skilled in ecclesiastical rites, whom that great prince, and devout zealous admirer of the discipline and observances of the church, had called together in his palace to consult them on this difficulty. We may add that many religious persons and others began the Lent fast at Septuagesima, though they increased its severity in Lent ; and this practice was imitated by some de- vout persons in the world# Several churches, for a long time, in order to eom-

Ch. III.]

EPIPHANY AND LENT,

CHAP. III.

On Shrovetide .

The three days of Quinquagesima, or Shrove-tide, are the immediate preparation for Lent. Whence in them religious persons redouble

plete the number of forty days fast, began the fast of Lent on Quinqu agesima, or shrove Sunday, which is hence called, in the Mozarabic missal, Dominica ante tollendas Carnes ; and by Matthew, of Paris, the English historian, in several places, Carnis Privium, or the Day of Abstinence from flesh. John Beleth, the learned Paris divine, who wrote on the sacred rites about the year 1200, says, the second Sunday of Septuagesima (i. e. Sexagesimal was called Carnis Privium, c. 65. Long before his time the clergy began the fast of Lent from Septuagesima, or at least from Shrove Sunday, with the Monks, which on this account was called Carnis Privium Sacerdotum , «. e. the beginning of the Priests’ Lent. See Gulielm Neubrig. 1. v. c. 10, p. 523, ed. Heame, Matt. Paris, 1. v. c. 10. Sta- tuta Synodalia Nicholai Epi. Andegavensis. Necrologium monasticum St. Vic- toris Paris ap. du Cange in Glossar. V. Carnis vel Camiprivium.

The Greeks called our Septuagesima the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, from that parable which they read in the gospel for that day. Otherwise rj Tpo&unf,

e. the Proclamation from the solemn promulgation of Lent, which they make on that Sunday. Sexagesima Sunday they call KvptaKrjTrjQ airoKptu> and the whole week diroicpuog, or Carnis privium, because this Sunday is the last day on which they eat flesh meat before Easter. In this week they are allowed cheese, milk, and other white meats, or Lacticinia ; these they take leave of on Quin- quagemma, or Shrove Sunday, which they distinguish by the name of Cheese Sunday, Kvpuuerj rvpivrj or rvpoJ>ayos< it being the last day on which it is lawful to eat cheese or white meats. From Shrove Monday they begin the severe fast of Lent, to which the foregoing week was only a preparation. Balsamon, in his Comments on the Council in Trullo, in Can. 32, mentions the week of white meats before Lent as then in use. Among the Greeks the Sunday denominates the preceding week ; among the Latins that which follows. See Smith de ho- dierno Statu Eccl. Grace, p. 2. Goar in Euchologium, p. 207. Morinus de poenit. app. p. 122. Leo Allanus, Cardinal Quirini, in offic. Grac.

The Greeks abstained rigorously from flesh and white meats all Lent ; but did not fast or confine themselves to one m^al in the evening on Sundays nor Satur- days, which they kept also as a lesser kind of weekly festival, in honour of, and in thanksgiving for the creation. They sometimes added Thursdays, as a kind of third festival. Hence their prolongation or anticipation of Lent seemed only to complete their fast of forty days ; and when they reproached the Latins with keeping too short a Lent, Ratramnus, the Monk or Corbi, in the reign of Charles the Bald, in 875, answers them : that by subtracting so many fast days in every week, they only completed the fast of forty days, which term the Latins also fasted, though they commenced it only on the Wednesday ifter Quinqua- gesima. (See Ratramnus, 1. contra Gracorum Romanum Eccl ?siam impefen- tium Errores (Maxime Photii Epistolam ad Nicol.) apud D’Achi *ium Spicilegii, T. ii. ed. vet. T. i. ed. novae, p. (53, et Thomassin Tr. des Jennet . 2 part. ch. 1. p. 234, <fec.) For the sake of uniformity, the First Council of On uge in 511, for- bids (Can. 24,) the laity to be obliged, by any law in the Latin c lurch, to begin the fast of Lent from Quinquagesima. The Second Council of Grange, in 641, (Can. 2.) renews the same prohibition, both as to Quinquagesin a and Sexage- rima. These canons were chiefly levelled against some who, in the West, were for imitating the Greeks in not fasting the Saturdays in Lent; and on the first article they only regarded the laity. For the clergy and monk? formerly com- menced the fast of Lent, the former from Shrove Monday, he latter from the Monday after Septuagesima Sunday. See the Ancient Lif*of St. Ulrick, Bishop of Angsbourg, <fcc. Peter of Blois, Archdeacon of Bath, writes, (Serm. xiiL ae Quadragesima,) “ All religious persons begin the fast of Lent from m Sept o agesima ; the Greeks from Sexagesima; ecclesiasticn persons from u Qmpqnageairaa ; the whole army of the Christian warfare from the term of

100

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[Tr. IV.

their fervour in their compunction and penitential exercises. How much this spirit is recommended by the church to all her children at this time, appears in the whole tenor of her holy office. In this week of Quinquagesima, anciently all the faithful made a confession of their sins, and sanctified it by preparatory practices of holy pen- ance. All who by their sins, or the transgression of certain eccle- siastical observances, fell under the laws of canonical penance, received it at the hands of the Bishop on the head, as it was called, that is, on the first day of the Lenten fast. Previous to this solemn public im- position of canonical penance, all who had any doubt or scruple, whether the state of their soul did not require that severe but salu- tary remedy, were obliged, by a sacramental confession, to lay open their spiritual wounds to the Bishop, or his penitentiary, during the short time that function was reserved, or at other periods of time to any other approved, experienced, or learned priest, who ordered such as stood in need of it to address themselves to the Bishop, who pre- scribed or confirmed the degree and measure of their penance, and enjoined the same. For though the imposition of canonical public penance was usually reserved to the Bishop or his penitentiary, yet

44 forty days.” The Council of Clermont under Urban II. in 1096, confirmed this as to the clergy, by the following canon “ Let no ecclesiastical person eat 44 flesh meat from Quinquagesima.” The Council of Angers, in 1270, commands all priests, under pain of suspension, to begin the fast of Lent from the Monday after Quinquagesima Sunday. The Council of Saltzburg, in 1281, makes this an inviolable law for all religious orders. Several of these, especially among the congregations of regular clerks, keep Shrove Monday and Tuesday rigorous fast- ing days. See Authony Caraccioli in Synopsi veterum religiosorum rituum, 2 part. c. iii. n. 6. Many of the laity, who were not able by sickness to fast the whole Lent, out of devotion, made up afterwards the number of days they had lost. The secular clergy now conform to the laity : religious orders follow the law or custom of their respective rules.

The institution of Septuagesima is posterior to that of Lent, before which, from the Epiphany the Mozarabic and other more ancient liturgies, count eight or nine Sundays. The Mozarabic, indeed, in Spain, from the time of Isidore of Seville, distinguishes the ninth or last of these Sundays, or Quinquagesima, by the title of Dominica ante Carnes tollendas, or Sunday before the fast ; and the whole breathes a perfect spirit of penance, as an introduction to the penitential office of Lent. See Missale mixtum dictum Mozarabicum prefat. Alphons. Ortur. Toleti, 1600. Item cum Nolis a P. Alex. Lesleo S. J. Itoma*, 1 735. The nineteenth sermon, which bears the name of S. Ambrose, according to the title, was preached on Quinquagesima Sunday ; but is ranked among his doubtful works, and seems rather a discourse of one of his successors. The Teamed Doctor of Paris, John Grancolas, who died in 1732, in the most celebrated and curious of his works, (Commentaire Historique sur le Breviare Romain, 2 vols. 12 mo. at Paris in 1727. and in Latin at Venice, 4to. 1734, c. 36,) thinks the names and particular offices of Septuagesima and Quinquagesima cannot be found earlier than about a hundred years after St. Ambrose ; at least from the sixth century, these Sundays are distinguished in the liturgies, councils, and ecclesiastical writers. On the Sunday of Septnagesimo, consult Charlemagne, Alenin, loc. cit Durandus in rationali Div. offic. 1. vi. c. 24, et 16. Belethexplic. offic. divin. c. 77. Amalarins, l.i. de Eccles. Offic. c. 3. Rupert, 1. iv. c. 9. Azor. 1. x. c. 16. Grancolas in Brev. c. 35. Martenne de Antiquis Monachorum ritibns, 1. iii. c. 8,p. 324. Thomas- sin Tr. des Jeunes, p. ii. ch. 1. p. 227. Ed. Tr. des Fetes, 1. ii. c. 13, p. 307. D. 1’Isl* Hist, de Jeune. Baillet snrles Fete9 Mobiles. Gavant in Rubricas Miss, etin Breviar. Item. Merat. ibid. Card. Lambertini post. Bened. XIV. Instit. 14, T.l.p. 137.

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several priests were appointed to receive private confessions. Whence Origen, one of the earliest and most learned masters of the most illustrious of the Christian schools, established at Alexandria in the second and third ages, writes as follows : “ Look about very diligently “ to whom you ought to confess your sins. Try first the physician “ to whom you are to lay open the source of your disorder ; who u ought to know how to sympathize and condole ; that if he who M has shown himself a skilful and tender physician shall give you any « advice, you carefully follow it.”* The same maxim is inculcated by the most zealous pastors of the church through all succeeding ages. Shrovetide was the most solemn and general time in which all the faithful anciently approached the sacred tribunal of confession with the greatest compunction and fervour. This its very name in our language implies : for our English Saxon ancestors, from this uni- versal custom, called it Shrovetide ; that is, the time of confession. The preparation for Lent by a careful sacramental confession of sins, is most salutary and expedient ; nay often indispensably necessary, especially to persons engaged in a state of mortal sin : above all, if this be habitual ; if the bands of this dismal slavery be not broken, the fasts and devotions of Lent lose the greater part of their advan- tages ; for no good works can be satisfactory or meritorious, through the infinite price of our redemption, and the most gracious divine promise, unless performed in the state of grace, or in holy charity, by which they are grafted in Christ, as branches in the trunk of the vine. They are sanctified, and find acceptance of God, by this con- dition of holy charity in Christ, and by the dispositions of sincere repentance and compunction, and the fruit of the sacrament of pen- ance worthily received, before entering upon this holy penitential course. Formerly this confession was also a trial, in which penitents were instructed whether their disorders did not oblige them to demand of the Bishop the remedy of canonical penance, a course of which was prescribed at least for most mortal sins, and sometimes for slight transgressions of rule. Our penance is not only to be a satis- factory chastisement of ourselves, in atonement, through the merits of Christ, for past offences ; but also to be a remedy for the effectual cure of all our spiritual disorders. This is a principal and effectual office of holy penance. In order to this it ought to be particularly adapted to our necessities, and pointed chiefly against our disorders, by a special intention, proper self-examination, peculiar holy medi- tations and prayers, and other exercises which must accompany our fasts. If we discover pride to be our ruling passion, our humiliations must be more profound and more frequent ; if avarice, our alms must be more plentiful ; if our senses are rebellious, we must curb them, and subdue our body with greater application ; and watch over the motions of our heart and senses, in our thoughts and actions, with a particular view to our most dangerous enemy. Sinners who have the misfortune to be engaged in any criminal habit, as of profane swear- ing, impurity, or any other vice, without the precaution of beginning

* Origen, Horn, 2, in Psalm 37*

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Lent by a sincere confession, and the exercises, which will both per- fect, and be the proof of a true conversion, cannot be admitted to the holy table at Easter. This rule is to be applied in a due pro- portion to all who labour under grievous temptations, or disorders which call for stronger remedies ; and to all Christians, as all are bound to make the exercises of Lent a preparation of their souls for the most solemn and sacred Paschal communion. St. Chrysostom puts the faithful in mind of this obligation in the following words :* “ The Fathers being aware of the dangers and mischiefs of Tastily “ approaching the holy table, appointed these forty days to be spent “ in fasting, prayer, hearing the word of God, and meeting together €i in public prayer 5 that in these days, by devotion, alms-deeds, “ fasting, watching, tears, confession, and ail other means, every one “ may carefully cleanse and adorn his soul, in order to partake of it u with a pure conscience.” And on another occasion, preaching in the beginning of Lent,b he cried out with a loud voice : “ Now from “ this time 1 proclaim aloud, and conjure you for the sake of your €t souls 5 I forewarn you beforehand, lest when the time of the M heavenly banquet shall come, any should not have made the neces- “ sary preparation.” A Council held at Paris in 1420, commanded that no one should be admitted to communion at Easter, who had not been at confession about the beginning of Lent. Alcuinc says : All Christians are to confess their sins on the head of the fast, that is to-day, speaking of the first day of Lent. Theodulph, the most pious and learned Bishop of Orleans, in his Capitulars, d will have the confession made before the first day of Lent, as a preparation to it, and all affronts and injuries forgiven, differences reconciled, <&c. Burchard, Bishop of Worms, in his Collection of Canons of the Church, e repeats the same law. Upon the compunction and care with which this confession is made, depends mainly the fruit of the whole Lent. By it the penitent sanctifies the holy time of Shrove- tide, according to the institution of the church, and employs the most perfect preservative from all its disorders. If any have the mis- fortune to be in the state of mortal sin, their works, though they are a means for obtaining a perfect conversion 5 yet without the graoe of penitential reconciliation and pardon, obtained by the sacrament of penance, can neither be satisfactory, nor meritorious of eternal life. This confession also disposes the penitent to pass the Lent in a Christian manner, and to adapt the remedies of his penance to the particular wounds of his soul, and to the perfect extirpation of its vices and inordinate appetites, by directing his self-examination, prayer, mortifications, numiliations, pious reading, &c., to these purposes.

A second part of the preparation for Lent, (which reason, the tender exhortations of the church, and other motives of religion re- ft S. Chrys. Or. in eos qui Pascha jejnnant contra Judeos, n. iv. T. 1. p. 811. ed Bened.

b S. Chrys. Horn. 5. in (Isa. vi. 1). T. vi. p. 142. ed Ben.

c Alenin, 1. de div. Offic. c. 13. d Theodulph. cap. xxxri.

• Burchard. Decret, 1. xv.

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commend at this season,) consists in redoubling our practices of self- denial, and voluntary exercises of compunction and mortification, that we may be disposed, both in mind and body, to enter upon those of Lent. The church now clothes her altars and ministers with mourn- ing weeds, lays aside her Alleluias, and mingles her songs of the divine praise with tears and penitential supplications. If we enter not into sentiments of compunction at this time, the prayers of the church are in our mouths mere mockery and lying hypocrisy 5 nor can we be sincerely penetrated with compunction, without the marks which naturally accompany or flow from it, and amongst these some degree of exterior mortification and penance. The church, by her exhortations and instructions, now invites and presses her spiritual children to this preparation, so necessary to excite those interior dis- positions, which alone can sanctify our fast, and for our fervour in which all its advantages will flow. How monstrous is the absurdity and inconsistency of those who, by the excesses of Shrovetide, make sin a preparation for a state of penance, and plunge themselves into disorders the most opposite to it, at the very time they are entering upon it ? Can dissipation ever dispose the soul to recollection, or sensuality and intemperance be a preparation to fasting ? “ As

M wrestlers,1 ” says St. Basil,® “ exercise themselves before the combat, “ so must Christians practise abstemiousness, in order to prepare and “ fit themselves for fasting/’ St. Chrysostom illustrates this maxim by another beautiful simile :b “ As physicians,” says he, “ before “ they give physic, prescribe abstinence, in order to prepare the “ body for carrying off the morbid humours, so fasting, that it may u be made wholesome to the soul, must be preceded by the practice M of temperance.” For, as the same Father repeats in another sermon : “ Who can be so extravagantly mad, as to pretend to prepare “ himself to live chastely, by wallowing in the filth of impurities.”0 This was the prudent and necessary precaution which the Monks and Hermits always took, in preparing themselves gradually to be able to bear their long an<J most austere fasts, often to a degree of severity, which seems to have bordered upon the miraculous order. If we admire the austerity of the fasts of the primitive Christians, and much more of the Monks in Lent, we shall find that the whole year was with them, at least in some degree, a continual fast, and their Lents were ushered in by a preparatory course of greater abstemiousness. By this constant temperance, they enjoyed uninterrupted health and vigour of mind and body to the most advanced old age, which a vi- cissitude, and a sudden transit from intemperance to a long austere habit of fasting, would have entirely impaired. The rule of nature, in all its operations, is simplicity and uniformity, and the best mis- tress of health is temperance and regularity, m the quality, times, and manner of taking nourishment and rest. Nothing is more con- trary to it than what deviates from this principle, especially by sud- den great changes. Hence, if we have regard merely to corporal

* St Basil, hom. L de Jejoa* n. x. p. 9.

* It Chrys. hom. iv. in Gea.T. 4, al. Ben.

• Id. hom. 6, do Poenit n. v. T. 2, p. 316,

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health, a total change of diet, and of a course of life, cannot be made suddenly, from one extreme to another, without great prejudice to the organs and frame of the body. The human stomacn, in its na- tural situation, is a small vessel ; but by cramming is exceedingly dis- tended and enlarged, and the action of its muscles impeded, by the pressure upon them. How much this vessel must suffer from any violent sudden change in the quantity of food which it receives, is easy to be understood, and manifest from experience. The body, therefore, ought to be fitted and prepared, by lesser retrenchments, to bear long and . austere fasts. The behaviour of the Mahometans is, in this respect, more rational than that of Christians. Ghislin, Lord of Boesbec, or Busebech, near Menin, in Flanders, native of Commines upon the Lis, in that neighbourhood, who was a nobleman of great learning and abilities, preceptor to the Emperors Bodulph II., and his brother and successor, Matthias, and was some years am- bassador from Ferdinand I. at Constantinople, at the court of Soli- man II., informs us, that the Mahometans, before their Ramaden, or Lent— a rigorous fast of a month — for some time refrain from all feastings, and allow themselves no indulgence in eating or drinking ; but, on the contrary, live chiefly on herbs seasoned with salt and vinegar, and drink nothing but water.® Barbarians, who make the gratification of brutish passions the principal end of life, here behave in a manner more conformable to the rules of reason and morality, than Christians, who profess a life of perfect sanctity aud reason ; a life squared by the maxims of the gospel, and worthy its holy Founder ; and yet allow themselves at Shrovetide extravagances and excesses, which both reason and religion condemn at all times ; and are not ashamed to make gluttony a preparation to the holy season of Lent, and a means to dispose their bodies for fasting.

All motives of reason and corporal health, and the spirit and ex- hortations of the church, are so far lost sight of, and her pious and zealous endeavours are so far frustrated at this time, that this season of devotion and penance is converted into a time of dissoluteness and intemperance. These disorders and profane diversions are the re- mains of the most shameful and riotous of the impious heathenish fes- tivals and debaucheries. Excesses which set at defiance both the laws of nature and the gospel, degrade a rational being, and are an insult to his reason and its adorable Author ; are inconsistent with the gravity, sanctity, and penitential state of a Christian, and stand loudly

* Auger. Ghislin. Busebech. Legat. Turcire, ep. iii. p. 153, <fc c. He was after* wards twice sent ambassador to Paris from Maximilian II., in 1570, and from Rodolph II., in 1592.

This elegant noble writer tells ns, in the same, ep. iii. p. 153, that the Turks assured him, that one of their ambassadors, at his return from Christendom to Constantinople, related, that at a certain time the Christians ran mad, till they recovered their senses by a very extraordinary remedy, which consisted in put- ting a certain kind of ashes upon every one's head, by which they were so changed as not to appear the same persons ; at which the Turks were much amazed ; because, though they knew many things which intoxicated and de- prived men of their senses, they knew no remedy which restored them ; for which reason they were very desirous to learn in what this wonderful medicine, which appeared so easy, consisted.

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condemned by the respected canons of the church, and the voice of all her zealous pastors. Deplorable was the blindness of men, — enslaved to their passions under the empire of idolatry, — who perverted the most sacred rites of religion to the purposes of superstition ; prosti- tuted them also to the most infamous gratification of their most shameful vices and inordinate appetites.* It is much more astonish-

* The principal heathenish festivals among the Greeks and Romans, which were devoted to rioting, intemperance, and debauchery, were the Bacchanalia, Streiue, and Saturnalia. The Bacchanalia, in honour of Bacchus, were brought from Egypt into Greece, and afterwards to Rome, where they were celebrated twice a-year, viz., toward the end of winter, on the last day of February, when they were called Brumalia ; and on the 16th of August, near the end of Sum- mer. On these festivals of Bacchus, men and women ran in troops about the highways and deserts, dressed in skins of fawns, mules, and tigers, adorned with ivy or vine leaves, with mitres or garlands of ivy or vine leaves on their heads, shouting, singing, and dancing. In their hands they carried Thyrsi ', which were little lances covered with ivy or vine leaves, and had with them drums, flutes, and rattles. The Greeks called these feasts Dionysia, from Dionysius, their name for Bacchus. Also Orgio, from opyjy fury ; for in them many were mad with liquor, and several personated men distracted in their senses. Above all other cities of Greece, they were most famous at Athens, where the great Dio- nysia, with games, were celebrated within the city in Spring. The lesser in the country in Autumn or Winter. Palmer, ed. cit. Schol. in Aristoph. ad An. 201, 3 77. Scaliger de Emend. Temp. 1. i. p. 29.

.On the Bachanalia, see John Nicholai ; Professor Tubingen, (not the Domi- nican Friar, as the learned James Echard, Bibl. Script Ord. Pracdic. T. ii. p. 660, mistakes,) 1. de Bacclianaliis Autiquis et Ilodiemis (printed in 1679), et T. vii. Antiquit Grsec. Gracvii ; also Christopher Neander, Hist. Bacchanalio- rum, reprinted in Claussingius’s Jus publicum Rom. T. iv. p. 192; James Hernschmed, of Antinge, in Bavaria, Diss. de Bacchanaliis Noremberg®, 1626 ; Dietz. Diss. de Bacchanalibus Lips. 1691 ; Knanewitter 2 Dissertationes de Bae- chanalibus Gentilium Wittemb. 1710; Hoffman Diet. Univers. Potter Grecian Antiquities, B. ii. p. 382 ; Lamb. Bos. Antiquit. Grace, c. xv. p. 101 ; Hesychius, v. Aioyvata ; Sapnheim, in Aristoph. Ran. v. 360, et 1242 ; Euripides Bacch. v. 81, et 106; Scholia in Euripidis Phseniss. v. 789; Bach. v. Ill — 696 — 833; Lucian Bacchus et de non temore cred. Cal. p. 417; Ovid Metamorph. 1. vi. v. 678, et 533, lit. v. 391 ; Catull. Cairn, lxi. v. 261 ; Virgil. JE neid, 1. ix. v. 737 ; Brouhhus in Tibull. 1. iii. p. 6; Barthol. in Stat Theb. 27; Matth. gyp tins Explica tio Senatus Consult! do Bacchanalibus ; Sive A2neae vetustae tabulae mu- sei Csesarei Vindobiemus Neapoli, 17*29, fol. ; Fichoroni Maschare Seniche degli Antichi Romani, 4 to. Roma:, 1/48, sive Latiue de Larvis Scenicis vetemm Romonorum, 4to. Romae, 1754 ; and principally the learned Antiquary, Paul Maria Pociaud, Regular Clerk, in his Commentariis de Uiadio 0 onrjyart : Sive de Umbellse Gestatione Roma:, 1/52, 4to., where he accurately relates the Rites and Superstitions, and settles the history of the original of this impious festival. The disorders of the Bacchanalia were so enormous, that they were at length suppressed by several decrees of the senate, before the fall of the republic, <fcc. ; vet these riotous festivals subsisted in some parts till the Greek and Roman ido- latry was banished by the light of the gospel.

The Saturnalia were kept at Rome on the 15th of December, and afterwards on the three, four, five, and at last the seven following days ; and by the women on the first of March. During this solemnity, slaves in families were treated as masters, were sometimes waited on by them at table, and were allowed the liberty of insulting and reproaching them in words, and telling them their faults. This was done in remembrance of the golden age of Saturn or Noagh, before the division of lands and distinction of ranks, when all families were upon a level, some memorial of which, is to be commended: but this festival dege- nerated into the utmost licentiousness, and on it nothing was seen or heard at Rome bat din? riot, and disorder of people, abandoned to dissolute mirth and

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ing and afflicting to see the purity of the Christian morality sullied by such a mixture of heathenish licentiousness, revived in the very bosom of the church by its own degenerate children 5 for the Bac.

pleasure. Horace calls this festival the liberty of December, 1. ii. Satyr 7. Daring the Saturnalia at Rome all business was suspended ; the evenings were spent in revellings, and sumptuous banquets; the days in learned conferences; the deepest and most serious were reserved for the mornings. Macrobins, a learned nobleman of consular dignity in the reign of Theodosins the Younger, has given us a course of Saturnalian conferences, to which his Comments on Cicero’s Dream of Scipio, fraught with incredible variety of erudition, seems also to belong. The number of persons at each banquet, was never to be less than three, that of the Graces ; nor greater than nine, that of the Moses. One was chosen King of the feast in each company. Combats of gladiators, and other riotous diversions of every kind were a part of the public entertainment during the festival. The custom of masters admitting slaves to their table on this occasion seems to have been wisely established, as Rollin observes, (T. iv. de l’Hist. Rom. sur les Saturnalia), to teach masters to treat them with affability and humanity. . Put to change clothes with them, leave the house at their dis- posal; which as Athenaeus and Seneca (ep. 4.) assure was sometimes done, made the latter forget their condition. Hence ensued the total subversion of due subordination in families, and a lawless licentiousness, in which every one abandoned himself to all manner of dissolute mirth, filled the streets and houses with noise, tumult and disorder, and was an occasion of the greatest enormities on this profane festival. See Macrobius, 1. i. Satumaliorum. Athenaeus, 1. xiv. Dion. 1. 50. Rosci. Ant. Rom. 1. iv. c. 18. Vossius de Orig. <fc Progr. Idol. 1. i. c. 18. Martin Lipenius Hist. Stren. Justus Lipseus Satnmalium, T. iv. Oper, ed. Antv. 1G04. Hoffman Lemis Univ. et Supplem. V. Saturnalia. Rollin. T. iv. Hist. Rom. Catrou, or rather Bundy, Hist. Rom. p. 21 and 19. Not. 4. See pp. 451, 452, 453.

The Calends of January, or first day of the new year at Rome, was a riotous festival in honour of Janus, and of Strenia the Goddess of Presents, as S. Austin calls her, (1. de Civ. Dei, 1. iv. c. 16. T. 7. p. 100. ed. Ben.) this custom was set up by Tatian, king of the Sabines, afterwards Romulus’s colleague. On this first day of the new year, the people carried sprigs of Vervain, which they cut and brought from a grove near Rome, sacred to Strenia, and called by her name. The vervain branches were regarded as happy presages, or omens of the new year. On the same day, the people made presents to their friends, es- pecially vassals to their lords and pnnces, and afterwards noblemen to the em- perors. See Symmachu8, 1. x. ep. 20 and 28. Suetonius, *fec.

Though Christians abhorred the worship both of Janus and Strenia, yet Ter- tullian complains (1. de Idolatria, c. 14,) that many who had abolished the ob- servance of the Jewish new moons, with the heathenish superstitions, still showed too much regard to these solemnities by mutual presents, games, and banquetings. Many ancient Councils condemned these abuses; and S. Am- brose, S. Austin, and other zealous pastors laboured strenuously to extirpate them. Read the entire sermons of S. Peter Chrysologus, S. Maximus of Turin, S. Fulgentius, <fec. against the excesses of the calends of January, or new year's day. Several ancient canons against them, are inserted in the body of the canon law (c. 26) non observers, qu. 7. et can. Si quis. ibid. This last pro- nounces sentence of excommunication against any who shall observe them. More effectually to extirpate them, new year’s day was observed for many yean with a rigorous fast, ana in prayer. See the Second Council of Tours, A. D. 567. T. v. cone. p. 363 ; and in the eleventh century in the West, it was con- demned in France, by the Cardinal Peter of Capua, Legate of the Pope ; and in pursuance to his order, by Eudo of Sully, Bishop of Paris in 1199, by several Councils down to that of Basil in 1435, (Sess. 21. Can. xi. T. xii. p. 653.) On this festival of profane mirth, one was chosen in each family, Pope, Dean, or King of the Fools ; and under this private anarchy, great disorders were com- mitted, and the essential rules of discipline, sobriety, and good order were often transgressed, and a shameful libertinism patronized. See THistoiie de la Fete de Fous, a Lausane, in 4to. 1755, in which tome of its customs are related*

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ehanalian excesses of Shrovetide are a remnant of the abominations of blind idolaters, abandoned to their passions :* they indulge them- selves in what they condemn, are inconsistent, and a contradiction with themselves ; renounce their own divine principles, and what they profess. They call themselves followers of the cross, yet plunge themselves into the filth of the most infamous sensuality. What is yet more monstrous, this they make their preparation for exercises of compunction and penance. To dispose their hearts for them* the church now invites, and pressingly exhorts them to contri- tion and confession of sins. In direct opposition they run head- long into sin, and into every passion which can raise the strongest obstacles to every disposition of repentance. Let them represent to themselves their pastors, with one mouth, in the name of the church, and of Christ himself, who commands all to obey her, crying out in the words which St. Austin made use of in preaching against the like abuses on the calends of January : “ Behold your Bishop forewarns “ you, I admonish, I preach, I denounce 5 listen to your bishop, who “ commands, who intreats, who conjures you by Christ himself, let u no one be guilty of these things ; I discharge myself before God.”b Can you rebel against Christ, who says : “ He who hears you hears “me, and he who despises you despises me. (Luke x. 16.) And “ he who will not hear the church let him be to thee as a heathen “ and a publican ?” (Matt, xviii. 17.) Can Christians be found who are so insensible, so ungrateful, as to despise their God and Saviour, and, by their actions, trample upon that cross upon which he re- deemed them ? Can children be deaf to the church, their mother, in whom they are re-born in Christ by baptism, and derive from him their spiritual life, and all graces ? Can they fight against her by open disobedience, and the very contrast of vices and scandal ? Con- sulting reason alone, can any one look upon Lent as a time of graces and penance, and neglect the necessary preparation of mind and body for that wholesome penitential fast ? The very impieties and debaucheries of the heathenish profane festivals, which gave birth to * these excesses, stamp on them an original infamy, which alone ought to inspire every Christian with a just abhorrence, and a dread of

This was a notorious remnant of heathenish dissoluteness, translated in part from Pagan festivals by nominal Christians, to those which they kept near the same season, as Doctor Defiions, Dean of Senlis, shows in his Dissertation •gainst the Koiboit. This prolane custom consists in the election of a King on the eve of the Epiphany, with a liberty of promoting mirth against the laws of Christian gravity, modesty, and temperance. The heathens, how callous soever their vicious habits, the torrent of national example, and false maxims imbibed from their infancy, had rendered their heart, and how much soever superstition, rice, and the passions had blinded their understanding, still saw the infamy of inch disorders, which their Philosophers lamented, and their Legislators in some measure repressed. But shall Christians, whose religion is perfect sanctity, and who by their baptismal vows, have solemnly engaged themselves to renounce the world, crucify their own flesh, and take up the cross to follow Christ crucified ; ■hall these 1 say, so far lose sight of their obligations as to desert his standard, to enlist themselves under that of the devil ?

• See this proved by John Nicolai, Diss. de Rit, Bacchan. c. xviii. apud Grae- vium et Gronovium, Antiq. Rom. T. rii. p. 216.

* St. Ang. Serin, cxcri.

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being any way defiled by the least share in such abominations. Some will say, what harm is there in taking our diversions ? Even the most austere hermits in their deserts, had times of some little relaxation on certain great festivals ; this health of body, and the reparation of the vigour of mind, we require in our weak mortal state : the bow must be sometimes unbent, or its spring and strength will be irreco- verably impaired ; but such relaxation is rather to be sought in some exercise of walking, with improving conversation, or such other ra- tional amusement, conducive to health and virtue; not in such eating and drinking, as may lead us to set a value on, or seek a happiness in, what is our great humiliation, by the passion of sensuality, which so easily mingles in it, and by the extreme watchfulness and guard which it always requires. Particularly, that eating or drinking can never be allowed, which exposes to immediate dangers of inordinate gratification of sensuality, or the least excess or intemperance, which carries the law very far ; as St. Austin,11 and all the saints teach us by their doctrine, and much more by their example. Far more horrible and scandalous are masks, promiscuous public dances, gaming, revel- lings, sotting in taverns, and other such criminal disorders; or any such as are immediate occasions of sin and scandal. The whole system of Christianity is overthrown, if such licentious pleasures are called innocent ; or, if those amusements could be justified, which are condemned by the voice of reason, the gospel, the canons of coun- cils, and all zealous pastors of the church, from the primitive ages down to this present time. It is highly criminal and scandalous even to offer to make an apology for amusements which indulge idleness and sloth, or tend only to inflame inordinate desires, and to reduce a man under the ignominious slavery of the senses and passions, to rescue him from which is the great design of religion. The spirit of a Christian life is no less essentially a constant spirit of temperance, watchfulness, and penance, than of humility and charity. The reins are on no occasion to be let loose in seasons of relaxation and mirth ; this law is never to be forgotten. The subtle enemy, and our passions, would, by such an indulgence, gain a most pernicious advantage over • us, and could not fail giving us many deep wounds. God, on his side, withdraws his succour from those who depart from the rules which he has prescribed them for governing their appetites and senses, and keeping their passions in subjection ; he is sure to aban- don such souls to their own weakness and wicked inclinations, and suffer them to perish in their own foolish presumption, by which they are their own unhappy tempters. Whatever diversions take off the restraint, which we are bound to put upon our passions, or to remove that watchfulness, with which it is every one’s duty to guard all the motions of his heart, and all the avenues of the senses, precipitate the soul headlong. In the intestine war in which we are engaged against the flesh, we are like a man swimming against a rapid stream ; if he let fall his arms he is carried impetuously down, and cannot again recover himself. The unhappy soul in the moments of this

* Confessions, B. x.

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unrestrained temper, is di^sed unwarily to swallow the deadly bait, which the crafty enemy, who is always watching to devour, holds forth, and to be entangled in every snare which he spreads before her. If, at any time, a moderate extraordinary allowance at table be necessary, let the Christian sanctify this debt to civil society and cha- rity, by such a strict government of himself, that he be in no danger of finding in it any incitement to gluttony. The circumstance of the penitential time, the spirit of the church, and the compunction in which we are disposing ourselves for Lent, at this time, ought to make us more severe towards ourselves. Can we sufficiently deplore the blindness of those who dispose themselves for the fast of Lent by drunkenness, or other sins more heinous than the transgression of the fast could be, at the thought of which they would shudder ? The learned and pious Dr. Stapleton* bids them reflect, that it would, perhaps, have been a less evil for them not to have kept Lent, than to have ushered it in so criminally. The sight of the crimes by which multitudes profane this season, ought more powerfully to ex- cite us to compunction and penance, in order to avert the divine judgments, and make all amends in our power to the offended ma- jesty of our most merciful God. Can we love him, and not pine with David, and all his faithful servants, with zeal for the honour of his adorable name ? Nor can we pretend to have the bowels of fra- ternal charity, if, whilst we see our brethren sin and perish eternally, we can remain insensible. Moses (Exod. xxxii. 32), when the Israel- ites sinned, prayed that God would forgive them with so much earnestness, as to desire to suffer the severest effects of God’s just vengeance himself, rather than that they should not by sincere re- pentance be brought to the grace of pardon and mercy, or be cut off in their sin. S. Paul wished himself to be an Anathema from Christ,1* for his brethren the Jews, that they might be converted to God, and his name glorified by more hearts. (Rom. ix. 3.) S. Cyprian declares,0 that when any Christian fell into apostacy, or sin, his bowels seemed torn asunder, so vehement was his grief and con-

* Stapletadv. Bacchan. T. ii. p. 553.

* Some, with S. Jerome apod Algnauram, Ac., understand this of corporal death, which blots a man out of the number of the living upon earth. S. Chry- sostom, in (Rom. ix. 7), and S. Isidore of Pelusium, vehemently declare against this interpretation, as extenuating the ardour of the charity of the saints ; and the Book of Life means in other places of Scripture the number of the predes- tinate. It would be erroneous in faith to understand this of reprobation, as it includes a state of sin, and the hatred of God. It must be restrained to the ex- ternal sufferings, with the loss of the intuitive vision of God or beatitude; if this were possible with the divine love. The supposition was impossible, but expressed the vehemence of his grief, zeal, and charity. He spoke this entirely secure, says S. Austin, (1. ii. in Exod. 32, 147, T. iii. ed. Ben.), that the conclusion might be drawn from what follows, that as God would not blot him out of the Book of Life, whilst he perseveres in his love, he would pardon their sin ; yet re- mark the enormous evil of their sin, which Moses expiated by the slaughter of great multitudes of them, while he addressed himself to God in such words in their favour. The same Father observes, Moses so vehemently loved them; God himself loved them, who so much terrified them outwardly by his voice (qu. 149, ib. Col. 465.) See S. Tho. Aquinas, Lect. i. in c. ix. Roman, p. 230. Estius, Fromond. ib.

« S. Cypr. L do lapsis prope initxum.

110

SUNDAYS BETWEEN

[T*. IV.

fusion. S. Chrysostom tells his flock, if any one among them sinned, he seemed like one dead, his bowels were disturbed, and his sight lost, so as not to be able to see the light. David fainted away at the sight of sin in the ungodly. (Ps. cxviii.) Can we persuade ourselves that we have any spark of the divine love, if it do not kindle something of this zeal in us — if we can see with indifference God offended, and by his own chosen people, and his name blas- phemed through them among infidels ? Upon this double motive of zeal, pious Christians more earnestly enter into the spirit of the church at this time, in their exercises of compunction and prayer, to which she invites and exhorts them, noi only for themselves and for a preparation to Lent ; but also for the sins of others.

When many profaned New Year’s Day with the like heathenish revellings, several Councils commanded that day, or the Calends of January, to be kept a rigorous fast. Of this law, which subsisted till that abuse seemed sufficiently banished, St. Isidore, of Seville, writes as follows:1* — “ Our holy Fathers, considering how many are carried “ into excess and sin on this day, have ordained on it through all “ churches, over the whole world, a public fast, by which carnal “ Christians may be brought to understand the enormity of their “ crime, for which it is necessary that all churches should fast.” S. Ambrose, preaching on that occasion, says :c “ Let us then fast, that “ they may see their criminal mirth is condemned by our abstinence “ and penance.” And S. Austin :d “ If we have any true sense of “ the spiritual sins and miseries of the idolaters, let us mourn for “ them ; and that our prayers may be more powerful, and be heard, “ let us fast for them.”e This fast on the new year’s day is men- tioned by the Second Council of Tours, can. xvii.; the fourth of To- ledo, can. xi.

The Second Council of Tours, in 567, commands this fast, and it is recorded in the ancient Roman order, or the old Liturgy and Ritual of the Church/ &c.

These exhortations we now more justly apply to the excesses of this season ; S. Charles Borromaeo gave many severe mandates and pastoral charges and instructions against the profane diversions of Shrovetide.* In one he cries out : “ Are these the works of the u children of the church ? Such from this time are unworthy to bear “ that name : they are indeed children ; but unnatural and ungrai ful “ against the most tender mother. God calls upon us to mourn 5 but “ despising his voice, we run to banquetting. The voice of the “ Lord of Hosts hath been revealed in my ears ; if this iniquity shall “ be forgiven you till you die, saith the Lord of Hosts, (Isa. xxii. 14), “ by the mouth of his prophet.”h This holy pastor proceeds tenderly to exhort the faithful not to be of the number of those who are blind

• S. Clirys. b S. Isidore de Offic. Eccles. 1. ii. c. 40.

c S. Ambrose, Serin, ii. in Calendar Januarii.

d S. Austin, Sera, in Ps. 98.

• St. Aug. Sera, in Ps. xcviii. n. v. T. iv. p. 1062 ; see also S. Cresarius, Serm. vii. in App. Sera. S. Aug. ed. Ben.

f Vetns Ordo Roman us, cap. 20.

« St. Charles, Acta Ecclesi© Mediolan. T. ii. p. 920, drc.

h St. Charles, T. ii. p, 922, Pontifical© Ikmonienee, p. 844.

EPIPHANY AND LENT.

Ill

Ch. III.]

and hardened in their courses ; but to employ these days in disposing their hearts to a perfect spirit of compunction, in preparing them- selves for a state of penitential exercises, in pouring forth most ar- dent prayers, also, for their brethren, and weeping for them with the whole church. Cardinal Palseota, Archbishop of Bologna, who after St. Charles Borromaeo, was a second great light of zealous pastors, and an illustrious instrument of the divine mercy, in stemming the decay of piety, and repairing the breaches made by many lukewarm Christians in the discipline of the church, instituted at Bologna, per- petual public prayers called of thirty hours, in the monasteries and parish churches, during the three days of Shrovetide, with indulgence and sermons.* St. Charles, in his Fifth Council at Milan, had insti- tuted and strongly recommended the like devotions. St. Philip Neri, with like zeal and the most wonderful success, instituted at Rome devout processions to the seven principal churches of devotion, during these three days. The devotions of forty hours* prayer, with exposition of the holy sacrament, solemn salutations and benedictions, sermons, and other such practices, are now instituted in most places during this time, and are strongly inculcated by Cardinal Camus, Bishop of Grenoble, and innumerable other zealous and learned prelates. Religious persons of both sexes pass great part of these days at the' foot of the altars, and are joined by great numbers of pious seculars, to which they are strenuously exhorted by zealous preachers. Father Angel of Joyeuse, who was once Duke, Peer, and Marshal of France ; but renounced his honours and estates to serve God in the austere penitential state of a Capuchin friar, preached one year at Lyons against the riotous disorders of Shrove- tide, with a zeal sparkling in his eyes, and with such fruit, that the whole city passed those days in works of piety and devotion, instead of the accustomed disorders. The learned Cardinal Lambertini, afterward the great Pope Benedict XIV., appointed at Bologna the prayers of forty hours, with sermons, penitential processions, the exposition and benediction of the blessed Sacrament ; and in his mandate, cries out: The world invites you on one hand, God and his ministers in his name, on the other hand. Now you will show which you choose to follow, under whose standard you fight, whose cause you espouse.b This Pope granted for the ecclesiastical state, a plenary indulgence to all who confess their sins, communicate, and devoutly visit any church, in which the blessed Sacrament is exposed on three days of each of the weeks of Septi agesima, Sexagesima, and Quinquagesima, against the profanations of Shrovetide. His successor Pope Clement XIII., extended this grant to the whole church, by a brief dated 23rd July, 1765. In the same he earnestly exhorts all ecclesiastical persons, to spend much of that time in pray- ers, weeping between tne altar and the porch, as God and the church invite them to do, in order to avert his indignation, and preserve the people from being withdrawn in the day of temptation, from the path of the Lord. Felix of Wazvrans, late Bishop of

• Instr. Pastoral da Card. Camas. Tit. vi. Act. 10.

* Ben. JQY. Instit. xiv.

112

LENT.

[Tr. V.

Jpres, in his zealous pastoral instruction in 1768,* adds a serious charge in his diocess, that all clergymen retrain from all banquets, entertainments, and assemblies of diversion ; from looking out at the windows or doors at any persons masked, &c., that they never appear abroad at this time, only in the church, or on the road to it, or with the sick in their hospitals ; and pass this time sequestrated in mind and body, and in recollection attend all parts of the public office, and at the forty hours1 prayer. The Baron of Montmorency, who was Chancellor of the Exchequer or Treasury in Flanders, in the reign of Philip II., and joined the most eminent virtues of a contemplative state, with the duties of his distracting office, among the devout prayers which he composed for the festivals of the year, has left us pathetic devotions for Shrovetide, in which a pious soul laments the public disorders of the world, together with those of her own heart. Penitential Psalms, and other such devotions and litanies, with en- tertainments on the sufferings of Christ, and the Holy Sacrament of the Altar, are most suitable at this time.

JFitttt Crratisr.

ON THE FAST OF LENT.

CHAP. I.

On the Institution and Obligation of this Fast.

Lent is a most solemn yearly fast of forty days* observed by the Christian church before the feast of Easter.b This great ecclesias- tical law is on many accounts most holy and most venerable to Christians. It is venerable especially for its antiquity, for the uni- versality of its observance, for its sanctity and manifold spiritual advantages. If we trace the religious observance of Lent through every age from our time, we shall find it clearly mentioned in the Councils, and ecclesiastical writers of every century, up to the very first ; and that such monuments and vouchers in all parts of the church evidently carry it as high as any such monuments are extant, that is, to the time when the immediate disciples of the apostles were living, and governed the chief sees. Daille, the famous French Cal- vinist minister, who has written against this holy fast with the greatest warmth, allows it to have been universally established in the church in

» L. 18.

b The Latin and Greek names signify the fast of Forty Days , Quadragesima , riaaopaKor rj . And hence are derived the French, Italian, Spanish, <fec. words, to express this holy term. The English word Lent signifies the Spring fast, Lenten-Tide in the ancient English Saxon langnage being the Spring season. See the English Saxon dictionaries of Junius, Benson, Raymond, Lye, also Camden, dec.

LENT.

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Ch. I.]

the fourth century, and observed ever since that time.* Indeed, it is enforced so frequently, nnd in terms so clear, in the sermons and other writings of the greatest lights of that time, and of the greatest pastors that ever adorned the church of God with their learning, zeal, and piety, in any age since its first founders, that to call this in question would be open madness, despair, and extravagance. This confession of the warmest adversary of this holy fast, carries its antiquity very high ; and we may ask him how it could be then so universal, it* it was not far more ancient ? which, indeed, is clear by the positive evidence of the three foregoing ages. When a dispute was raised in the church, in the second century, about the time when the solemn yearly fast was to be closed, as Eusebius expresses it, from the Synods of that time ;b and the feast of Easter kept, which the Asiatics celebrated with the Jews on the 1 4th day of the first lunar month, most others, with the church of Rome, on the Sunday follow- ing, both when St. Polycarp came to Rome to confer with Pope Anicetus about it, in 158, and when St. Irenaeus wrote to Pope Victor in favour of a toleration of this different custom of the Asiatics ; about the year 200, all churches agreed in keeping the solemn ante-paschal fast of Lent.0 Some, indeed, have doubted whether Lent was first instituted of forty days ; because St. Iren®usd mentions, that Christians followed different rules of discipline and practice, both in the number of days, and the manner of observing the fast before Easter. " For some thought they ought to fast one “ day, others two, others more ; and some extended this fast to forty “ days. They measure their day by comprizing the hours both of “ the night and of the day. And this variety among those who ob- “ serve the fast, did not begin in our age ; but long before us, among “ our ancestors, many of whom, probably, not being very exact in “ their observance, handed down to posterity the custom, as it had “ been, through simplicity or private fancy, introduced among them. M Yet all these live peaceably one with another, and we also keep w peace together. For the difference in observing the fast does only “ so much the more commend the common unity of faith, in which “ all are agreed.”* Some have understood this as spoken of the

* Dallaeus, 1. de Jejun. Ac., Quodrag. c. 10.

b Enieb. L v. Hist. c. 23. c See St. Irenaeus, Fragm. ep. ad Victor, ap.

Eos. 1. t. Hist. c. 24 ; and in Edit. nov. oper ejus p. 340.

4 Loc. citat.

« Baillet (Sur Us Fetes mobilis . Dus, sur la Careme ), with some others, pre- tend, that St. Irenssus here speaks of the whole Lent, which he thinks some then confined to a few days, and some even to one. The writers, by placing the point before the word Forty , not after it, in which both manuscripts and printed copies vary, read the second period thus : “ Some fast forty hours, comprising the night “ and day viz. the forty hours that Christ remained dead. But the learned Bishop Beveridge, Dom Massnet, and others, justly reject this transposition, be- cause no one ever counted a day of forty hours ; and nothing could be more ridi- culous than the sense they give this transposed sentence. For in forty hours who could doubt but the night must be joined with the day, especially if we speak of the space of time that Christ lay in the grave. Let any one repeat the sentence to himself, and consider if any writer could have been capable of such ponsense and tautology. Dom Massuet, the learned Benedictine, editor of St.

LENT.

[T*. V.

whole fast of Lent ;* but, take notice, that those who keep 4 accord- ing to the exact rule, make it forty days.b But Dom Massuet0 de- monstrates, that St. Irenaeus spoke of this difference in discipline, no with regard to the whole Lent ; but the part of it in which the fast was most austere, in which the passion of Christ is particularly com- memorated : for this was peculiarly called the ante-paschal fast, and this some observed with a fast of superposition (or of more days than one without taking any sustenance), and all kept it at least a J£ero- phagie , or fast, on which, in the meal taken in the evening, they lived on dried meats, that is, on bread, salt, and water, as S. Epipha- nius expounds it,d to which some added raw herbs or pulse. This severe fast was kept according to every one’s devotion for more or fewer days in holy week, and by many all Lent. This is the variety of discipline which this father appeals to, as is manifest from other fathers. S. Dionysius, of Alexandria, about the middle of the third century, mentions this different manner of fasting on the six days which immediately precede Easter saying :e that some passed these six days without taking any nourishment, others four, others only two. S. Epiphanius, in the fourth century, distinguishes the fast of J^ent into three parts : The first till holy week, in which the Xero- phagie was not of precept : the second comprised the six days of holy week, on which all were obliged to keep Xerophagie, that is, to take nothing at their meal after sun-set but bread, salt, and water. A part of the fast was not of obligation like the two former, but of de-

Irenaeus’s works, has demonstrated the absurdity and error of this pretended reading, and restored the new one given above. The same had been before pointed out by Bishop Beveridge (In Cod. can. vindic. 1. iii. de Jej. Qnadrag. c. viii. p. 395), who proves that St. Irenaeus affirms none \o have kept the true exact rule of Lent who did not fast forty days. And he who wrote before the end of the second century says, this had been established long before the time when he wrote, which must carry us back at least 100 years ; consequently, to the time of the apostles. Bishop Patrick (Disc, of fasting in Lent, ch. xvi. p. 143), and Bishop Hooper (Discourse of Lent, Part 1, ch. 3), make the same remark on this passage of St Iremeus, which Rufin and Christopherson had translated accu- rately, referring forty to the days. Henry Valois stands self-condemned in re- ferring it to hours ; for, to make sense, he is obliged to blot ont the word rjptpav or day, and substitute vtailav or fasting, foisting in this alteration against the authority of all manuscript and printed copies. To make the sense : 44 they 44 measure the fast (not the day, which would be nonsense) of forty hours." In the true reading, the sense is clear and necessary to exclude some fasts of the Jews, in which they eat in the night, as the Turks now do. Thus do these three learned Protestant bishops solidly refute the distorted false interpretation of the famous passage of St. Irenaeus, given by Daille and some others. See Dr. William Bevendge (who died Bishop of St. Asaph's, anno 1707); Dr. George Hooper (made Bishop of Bath and Wells in 1703) ; Dr. Simon Patrick (who died Bishop of Ely, in 1707); Dom Massuet, the Maurist monk (who published the works of St. Irenaeus, at Paris, in 1710); and Dom de l’lsle, Maurist Monk, Histoire Dogmatique and Morale dn Jenne, 1741, 1. ii. p. 104.

• Beveridge, <fec.

• T oiavTt) ujoiKiXia ob vvv l<f>* wwv yerovuTa, dXXd ical uto\b uwvrepov hri rwv u>pb rjpuv, rwv wapd rb dicptbeci wc riroc, vertvovrw rvv ttav ctirXorrira k at ibuitTKrpbv <ruvi]0iidv u»c rb fiimira (jjnroirjKorwv.

c Dessert, in St Irenseum, 1. L n. 23, p. 87.

d S. Epiph. de Expos. Fidei.

• Dionys. Alex. ep. Canon, ad Baailid. Can, L T.L Cone. p. 835.

LENT.

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Ch. I.J

votion or counsel only. This consisted in a fast of superposition in holy week, which some kept for two, others three, others four days, and some the whole week. The Council of Ancyra, in the fourth century, confirms, as of a precept, the practice of those which S. Ir emeus calls exact, in these words : “ It is necessary to fast the “ forty days of Lent, using only Xerophagie or dry meats.,,a But this severity seems to have been of precept only in few churches, except for holy week, in which it was universal. The name of the forty days* fastb demonstrates that Lent was of about that number of days, or that the beginning was about the fourtieth day before Easter, which, by subtracting the Sundays, will leave thirty-six for the fast, if we begin the number from Sunday the forty-second day, or six weeks before Easter.® This name of the forty days* fast for

• Cone. Ancyr. Can. 50, T. 1. Cone. 13, 1506.

b Quadragesima. T taaapcuco^tj.

c The Council of Laodicea, held, according to Bishop Beveridge, in 365, ac- cording to Daillie in 360, not only commands the entire forty days to be fasted without using at the meal in the evening any other than dry meats, but clearly shows that it consisted of many weeks. For it forbids the fast to be transgressed on Thursday in the last week (which probably some pretended to do in honour of Christ’s last supper), saying, this would break and dishonour the whole Lent, (can. 50.) It forbids any to be admitted to baptism who had not begun their preparation among the Catechumens, at least before the end of the two first weeks of Lent, (can. 45.) And it mentions that (according to the discipline of the Greek church) the holy mysteries were only to be offered on Saturdays and Sundays every week of Lent, (can. 59.) The fathers in that fourth century clearly explain Lent to be of forty days, as S. Ambrose. (1. de Noe and Arc!, c. xiii. and 1. 4. in Lnc.) S. Gregory Nazianzen (Carm. de Silentio Jejunii) ; S. Jerom. (in cap. 3. Jonte.) Theophilus of Alexandria, who in his first and second paschal epistles, counts by the days of the Egyptian months, of which Lent was com- posed in those years, forty days ; and often calls it the fast of that term. Daille confesses it to have then been of forty days ; but pretends it was not so before the middle of that century ; bat how could it at once have been made universally so, and without any synod or new decree ? Had it been a new law, how could The- ophilus call it an apostolical tradition ? S. Ambrose says it is confirmed by the authority both of the Old and New Testament S. Gregory Nazianzen writes, that it is prescribed by the law of Christ the King, &c. A little before these fa- thers wrote, the General Council of Nice in 325. calls it by the same name of the forty days' fast, and speaks of it as well known and observed wherever the Christian faith was established. For in order to correct abuses that might spring up, and prevent schisms, it enjoined two synods to be held yearly in every province; the one before Lent, the other in Autumn. “ Let synods be held, one ** before the fast of forty days, that all dissensions being removed, and souls being u cleansed from all filth, they may be presented pure to God.” (Cone. Nicasn. can. v.) The fathers of this Council were assembled out of all the provinces both of the east and west, enumerated by Dr. Beveridge, and they speak of this fast as known as well to all Christians as the season of Autumn. Daille pretends that the Council uses the name of the forty days fast , to signify a fast which at most did not exceed six days. How ridiculous this would make that venerable Council, Beveridge shows, with the most convincing strength of reasoning, and adds, “ We who honour those most holy fathers, as the most faithful and most courageous champions of our faith, with the highest veneration we are able, can 44 never be so criminally weak as to believe they could so absurdly misapply that w word, and so shamefully mock the whole church.” He observes, moreover, that they could not use this word in any but its own proper sense, the same which it bore in the following Councils and writers of that age, whom Dailte cannot pretend to construe but of a Lent of about forty days, ft is also clear, from the Council of Nice, that this word was used and understood in every part of the

116

LENT.

[Tb. V.

Lent was used by Origen,* and subsequent writers in every succeed- ing age, in such manner as demonstrates it to have been used and understood by all Christians, of this fast, before their time.b This

church in this same sense of a fast of forty days, which proves Lent to have been more ancient, not first commanded by that Council, as Daille would fain per- suade the world. S. Athanasius, who had been present in the Council of Nice, clearly speaks of the forty days of Lent consecrated to fasting, prayer, and hear- ing the word of God (Epist. Encycl. ad Episc. n. 4, T. i. p. 114, et Apol. ad Imper. Constantium, n. 16, 16, p. 304.) Constantine the Great, in his rescript to enforce the execution of the decree of the Council of Nice, about the time of keeping Easter, complains that some did not observe the fasts appointed before Easter, ap. Ens. 1. 3, de Vit. Constant, c. 18, p. 493.) which he calls 44 The pre- 44 scribed fasts,” upiofitvciQ vrjrtiag. (ib. et ap. Socrat. 1. i. c. ix. p. 31, et Theo- dore, l.i. c. 10.) The Council of Gangres, very soon after that of Nice, pro- nounces Anathemas against those who despise and transgress the common fasts delivered down and kept by the church. And the Council of Laodicea, canon 2, says, Ati iracrav r»/v TtaffapaKorrjvvjj^evfiv {fjpoyaXouvraf. (See Cone. G&ngr. can. xix. Cone. T. ii. p. 423, et Fleury, B. xvii. p. 335.) Long before the Council of Nice, about toe year 250, Origen mentions Lent by the name of the forty days consecrated to fasting. (Horn. x. in Levit. n. 2, p. 246, nov. edit. Ben.)

There were always found loose Christians, who upon various pretexts studied to curtail or enervate the severity of this fast. These might sometimes form so considerable a body as to seem to some strangers to have introduced a custom of a certain relaxation. This perhaps gave occasion to what Socrates, the his- torian, wrote, (1. v. c. 22, p. 286.) copied by Cassiodorus, (Hist, tripart. 1. ix. c. 38, p. 349) : Giving an account of the difference of rites and ceremonies in divers churches, he says : 44 The Romans fast three weeks before Easter, only the Sab- 44 baths and the Lord’s days excepted. The Illyrians, all Greece, and the Alex- 44 andrians fast six weeks. Others (in the countries from Constantinople to 4* Phoenicia) begin their fast seven weeks before Easter, hut only fast fifteen days 44 by intervals. And it is wonderful, that when they differ so much about the 44 number of days, they should all call it the quadragesimal fast, <fec. Here he commits several evident mistakes. That the Sabbath or Saturday was not ex- cepted from the fast in Lent at Rome, but a fast all the year, we are assured by S. Ambrose and S. Austin, both eye-witnesses. And that Lent was a fast of forty days by apostolical institution, is affirmed at that very time by S. Leo, bishop of Rome, Serin, xlii. (in Quadrag. 5.) c. iii. T. 1. p. 219. et Serm. xliii. (in Qnadr. 6.) c. ii. p. 222, Serm. xlv. (Quadr. 8.) c. 4, Serm. xlvii. (in Quadr. 10.) c. i. Serm. xlix. (in Quadr. 12.) c. i. p. 240. And by Cassi&n (Collat xxl. c. 24 et 25.) Ac. So that Socrates, who wrote at Constantinople, was either mistaken, or only spoke of some particular sect, as of the Novations, to whom this historian was attached, and who perhaps had adopted a different discipline, out of a spirit of opposition to the church, as bishop Hooper imagines them to have done in this point of Lent, (p. 84 and 139.) That such practices were abusive, and deviated from the regular fast of Lent, is clear from the repeated canons, and the rules laid down by the fathers of that age. A zealous prelate, who flourished about the fifth century, in a sermon printed among those of S. Ambrose, (Serm. xxiii. in Quadrag. 7, n. 3, nunc in Append. T. ii. part 2, p. 421), declaims against those who imagining themselves too weak to fast all Lent together, made it a fast of seven weeks, and fasted the weeks alternately ; who, he says, put a cheat up- on their own souls by a fast which cannot avail them. Socrates plainly implies that Lent was of forty days when it first obtained the name of the Quadragesi- mal fast, by the surprise he expresses, that those who mode it of a shorter dura- tion should still give it that name. Sozomen, who usually follows Socrates, here avoids his double mistake about the practice of Rome. 44 The Quadragesimal 44 fast,” says he, 44 some observe six weeks, as the Illyrians and western churches, 44 and all Libya, Egypt, and Palestine : others make it seven weeks, as the

44 people

» Orig. horn. 10. in Livit. T. i. ed. de la Rue.

* See Beveridge, loc, cit, cap. vi. adv. Dallieum.

LENT.

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name could never have been given to the great ante-paschal fast, had it not then been of about forty days, though it was afterwards used sometimes for any long annual stated course of fasting. Thus the Montanists were said to have kept three quadragesimas in a year,* though probably the two last were not so long or so rigorous as the first ; and we commonly say that S. Francis of Assisio instituted in his order four Lents in a year, though differing in austerity, and in the term of days, and only the general Lent of the church to be kept in spring ; from which the name is applied to the rest. The name of the forty days’ fast must have been commonly given to Lent in the second century, and perhaps in the very time of the apostles, as Rigaltius thinks; consequently this fast must have been of about forty days, for otherwise it could not have been so called barely from the forty days' fast of Christ in the desert.b

As the disputation about the time of celebrating Easter, as stated by Eusebius and St. Irenaeus, which was started in the middle of the second century, whilst the immediate disciples of the apostles were yet living ; and the received name of the forty days’ fast, clearly shows Lent to have been older than that time ; the same is also evi- dent from the heresy of Montanus, which sprung up in Phrygia, in 171, and soon was carried to Rome. This Heresiarch, calling him- self the Paraclete promised by Christ, endowed with the fulness of the Holy Ghost, pretended to raise the law of Christ to an higher perfection than had been delivered by the Apostles. He therefore instituted three Lents in the year. With his errors and blasphe- mies the church justly condemned this practice, founded in supersti- tion and schism, but maintained her ancient Lent, which was even then called the fast of forty days, and observed throughout the whole world. “We fast one Lent of forty days in the year, the “whole world agreeing with us. They fast three Lents every year,

w people of Constantinople, and the nations as far as Phoenicia : others fast only ‘ three of these six or seven weeks by intervals : others the three weeks immedi- “ ately before Easter : and others only two weeks, as the Montanists/' (Sozom. 1. viL c. 19, p. 795.) Cassian observes, that some churches kept their Lent six weeks, (as those of the west) ; others seven weeks, (as the eastern) ; yet neither fasted above thirty-six days. For though six weeks make forty-two days, yet the western churches excepted out of the fast all the Sundays, which make six days ; and the eastern churches, both the Sundays and Saturdays. (Cassian. Collat. xxi. c. 24.) Hence it is clear that Lent consisted of thirty-six days of fast, and of forty or more of abstinence. Those who made it less, or fasted the weeks alter- nately, were either heretics or loose livers, unless the weakness of their health required such a dispensation. S. Gregory the Great defines the fast of Lent to have only comprised thirty-six days, the six Sundays being excepted as to the fast. {Horn. 16 in Evang. n. 5, T. i. p. 1494.) To make the fast of forty days, four were added soon after, of which Ratramnus (1. 4. contra Gracor, Opin . c. iv. T. 2, Spicileg . p. 121), and others are vouchers. From this time, not the first Sunday, but the foregoing Wednesday, is in the west the head of the fast. The Greeks, to make up for the Saturdays and Sundays which they do not fast, make their abstinence from flesh of eight weeks ; that from eggs and cheese of seven weeks. (Ratramn. ib. p. 123.) For the Greeks never fast on any Saturday in Lent except on Easter eve.

• S. Hier. ep. ad Marcel.

k See this conceit of Rigaltius, (not. in Tert. de Jej. p. 559.) confuted by Be* veridge,c. iv. n. iv. p. 358.

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“ as if three Saviours had suffered,'* says St. Jerome, where for Lent he used the name of the fast of forty days. Tertullian, when a Montanist, undertook to defend the superstitious fasts of his sect, and, reasoning against the Catholics, argues, that they kept a yearly Lent. He tells them they grounded the law of their fast on these words of Christ, that his disciples should fast when he, the Spouse, should be taken from them. (Mark ii. 19 (Luke v. 35).) This, Tertullian pretends, can only regard the two days when he lay dead, from Good Friday to Easter Day in the morning ; and he tells them they fasted Other days before those two (which we may reasonably understand of the rest of the forty days) ; and, moreover, the stations1* on "Wednesdays and Fridays. Tertullian thought the words of Christ, that his disciples should fast when he was taken from them, imply a divine precept of fasting on those days on which we commemorate him dying on the cross, and lying in the grave. This does not ex- clude the apostolical or primitive institution of the fast of Lent, nor is he a competent judge in these matters.

That tne apostles commanded the paschal fast, or of the last days of Lent, in memory of the death of Christ, all antiquity proclaims ;* nor can we, as it seems, doubt but they either commanded, or at least pointed out and directed the fast of all Lent, in imitation of our Lord's fast, which they, or rather their immediate successors, passed into a strict law, and the custom of the primitive churches confirmed. For St. Irenaeus, older than Tertullian, calls the rule of fasting forty days, with Xerophagie, or the use only of dry meats, the right and exact fast of Lent, and the fathers call Lent an apostolical tradition or institution. “ We fast one Lent by apostolical tradition, the u whole world agreeing with us herein," says St. Jerome.d The same father, in another place, e reckons the fast of forty days no less among apostolic traditions than the observation of Sunday, Easter, and Whitsuntide, as Bishop Beveridge shows/ St. Leo frequently calls Lent an apostolical institution.® St. Peter Chrysologus says, it is not an human invention, but of divine authority/ Theophilus of Alexandria, in his three paschal letters, declares Lent is to be kept according to the tradition of the apostles, and the insinuation of the gospel. The same is inculcated by his nephew and successor, St. Cyril of Alexandria, in his paschal homilies. St. Isidore of Seville says : “ Lent is kept over the whole world by an apostolic institu- “ tion.”1 St. Dorotheus says : “ The holy apostles consecrated the M fast of Lent as a tithing of the year, to penance and the purging “ away of sin."k This, indeed, we ought to conclude, according to

a S. Her. ep. 27, ad Marcellam, T. iv. p. 64.

b Ecce convenio vos et praeter Pascha citra illos dies quibus ablattu* est Spon- eus, et Stationnm Jejunia interponentes. Tertul. de Jejun. c. xiii. p. 661.

* Tert. 1. de Orat. c. xiv. <fe 1. Adv. Psychic, c. 14.

d St. Hier. ep. 27, ad Marcellam.

• St Hier. 1. 2, in Galat c. 4.

1 1. 3, de Jejunio Quadragesimali, c. viii. n. 2, p. 406.

g St. Leo, m. Serin. 4, 6, et 9, de Quadragesima.

b St Pet. Chrya. Serm. 11, et 166. * St laid. Orig. L vi. c. 19.

k St Doroth. Doctrma, 15.

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that prudent rule of St. Austin,* that “ whatever days we keep, not “ from any written law, but from tradition, and which are observed “ over the whole world, are understood to be recommended and “ established either by the apostles, or by plenary councils, such as u the annual solemnities of the passion of Christ ; of his resurrection “ and ascension ; and of the coming of the Holy Ghost. And what- “ ever else is found, which is observed by all persons throughout the “ church, on all sides where it has extended its pale.”b The same tule he lays down in another place in clearer terms, and again ex- ptessly applies it to Lent : “ What the whole church maintains, and “ what was not instituted by councils, but always observed, is justly u looked upon to be derived from the authority of the apostles.”0 In the apostolic canons the precept of Lent is clearly expressed.4 The Therapeuts (t. e . servants of God), and Contemplatives, according to Eusebius, St. Jerome, and others, were Christians, and disciples of St. Mark, in Egypt ; they certainly were numerous in that country, immediately after the apostles time, and, doubtless, whilst they were living. Now Philo, who calls them a sect of the Jews in Egypt, in) forms us, that, before the great feast of Easter (as Eusebius call it, they fasted seven weeks, during which time no food was allowed among them but bread, salt, and hyssop.6

Protestants generally allow the fast of Lent to be of primitive an- tiquity ; but deny that it was of precept ; which is, nevertheless, clear from ancient councils and fathers. It is evident that the Lent which the Catholics kept, when the heresy of the Montanists was broached, was a fast of precept, as those heretics made their three Lents/ Whence St. Jerome, writing against them, says : “Not but it is “ lawful to fast the whole year,^xcept in Easter time : but it is one “ thing to make an offering by necessity, another to do it by free “ choice.”8 The Council of Laodicea uses a Greek word, which ex- presses the strictest absolute obligation of fasting the forty days of Lent/ St Basil declares, that whoever is able to keep this fast, yet breaks it, will be arraigned for this transgressiou before him who is the Le- gislator of the fasts— meaning God himself.1 St. C&sarius, of Arles, pronounces: “To fast on otner days is a remedy of sin, or entitles “ to a reward : not to fast in Lent is a sin. He who fasts at another “ time shall obtain pardon : he who is able and does not fast on these “ days shall suffer punishment/ Theophilus and St. Cyril, patriarchs

• St Aug. ep. 118, ad Januar. T. ii.

b Daille objects, that St. Austin says that the church instituted Lent ; but his words are, that this law was confirmed by the custom and practice of the church, which is qnite another thing, and presupposes the institution. Ecclesia conruc- tudo robaravU ', 1. iv. de Bapt. c. 24. In the same place he proves its institution to have been apostolical, from the words quoted in the text, e St. Aug. 1. iv. de Baptismo, c. xxiv. n. 31, T. ix. p. 140. d Can. Apost. lxix. See the antiquity of this canon vindicated by Beveridge, Proem, in Cod. Can. et. 1. iii. p. 338 e Philo, i. de Vita Contemplat See Beveridge, p. 370.

rSee Tert de Jejunio. * St. Hieron. ep. xxvii. ad Marcell. adv. Montan. k Tdc irapatiitofuvac, vrjQtiac tic t6 koivov kcu $v\a<raopkvaQ viro rife IkkXjj^ 9tag. ConciL Gangren. can. xix.

1 St. Basil, horn. ii. de Jejun, * S. Cm * Arel. horn. ii.

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of Alexandria, St. Leo, and others, who inculcate that all Christians are to fast Lent by apostolical tradition, strongly express the obliga- tion of complying with this law.a St. Gregory Nazianzen, writing to Celusius, a magistrate who did not fast the Lent, expostulates with him as for a great crime, and, amongst other things, says to him: “O Judge, you commit a crime by not fasting. How will you “ keep human laws, who despise and transgress divine laws ?”b Amongst the sermons of St. Ambrose, we have seven on Lent, which, in the Benedictine edition, are placed in the appendix, be- cause they seem rather to belong to St. Maximus of Turin, who died in 456. This ancient father often inculcates, that a transgres- sion of this fast is a grievous crime. “ It is not a light offence,” says he,® “ to break the fast prescribed.” And, in another place, d he calls it a transgression ; an obstinate rebellion ; a violation of the law which God has prescribed for our salvation. He says, “ That to “ neglect entirely the fast of Lent is a sacrilege ; to transgress it in “ part is a sin.” It would be too long to sum up the canons of councils, which, from the third century to our times, strictly enjoin the observance of the quadragesimal fast. In the 69th, among the apos- tolical canons, it is enacted : “ If any bishop, priest, deacon, reader, “ or precentor, does not fast the forty days of the passover, or the “ (weekly stations of) Wednesday and Friday, unless by bodily weak- “ ness he be not able, let him be deposed ; but if he be a layman, u let him be excommunicated.” The Council of Gangres, about the year 350, pronounces Anathema against any who shall insolently break the fasts which, by tradition, are observed in common by the church.® The Council of Laodicea, held a little before,

• St. Austin says, ep. lxxxvi. ad Casula% that he finds in the gospels, or apos- tolic writings, that fasting is commanded; but not on what days we are bound to fast, by the precept of Christ or the apostles. This Daille thinks a solid objec- tion to the precept of this fast ; but does not take notice that St. Austin speaks of the weekly fast of Saturday. Neither do any pretend the time of Lent to be determined in Holy Scripture. See Beveridge, c. 81, p. 407.

Calvin, and his disciples, urge against the precept of Lent, the fact of St Spi- ridion, in the middle of the fourth century, who, in Lent, gave flesh meat to a traveller, and eat with him, as Sozomen relates, 1. i. c. 11, p. 24, ed. Cantabr. But other testimonies demonstrate, that this fast was of precept, which appears from this very narration. For the historian mentions, that the traveller first ex- cused himself, saying he was a Christian, and could not touch meat in Lent ; secondly, he is careful to allege the reasons of the dispensation, viz., that the tra- veller was very much wearied and quite exhausted, and Spiridion had nothing else in his house, being accustomed to fast some days together, without eating any thing ; thirdly, Spiridion first asked God's pardon— that is, begged the divine ratification of such a dispensation — which he judged expedient and necessary, by the great law of charity, and the circumstances with which we are not perfectly acquainted. By alleging for reason that all things were clean, he only meant that this fast is only an ecclesiastical law, consequently dispensable ; such meats not being unclean in themselves, and by tbe law of nature, which admits no dispensation ; lastly, that such a dispensation was something extraordinary and unusual in the church, is clear from the mention which the historian makes of it.

b St. Gr. Naz. ep. lxxiv. ad Celus, T. i. p. 830.

c St. Ambr. horn. v. in Qnadrag. nunc 41, in Append, n. 4 et 5, T. ii. p. 418.

* Horn. vii. nunc 23, n. 2jj>. 420.

e Cone. Gangr. can. srix. T. ii. cone. p. 423.

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condemns those who should break the fast on M&unday Thurs- day, saying : “ This is a violation of the whole Lent, and we “ must fast the forty days entire without touching any food hut dry “ meats.”* This is also commanded in the Arabic canons, subjoined to the twenty cauons of the Council of Nice, collected from ancient Councils held in the east.b Whoever will take an impartial review of these canons, and of the state of this fast, as it stands set forth in the writings of the most ancient fathers, and in the practice of the church, from the first ages down to our time, will confess that it was observed in the primitive churches as an ecclesiastical law, by which all were bound who professed themselves Christians, as far as health and strength enabled them to perform it, as two learned Protestant bishops have demonstrated in express treatises on this subject.6 Bishop Gunning proves this fast to he a primitive and apostolical law of the church. Bishop Beveridge maintains that the apostles, from the very time the divine Bridegroom was taken from his church, kept at least the day of his death and the following day a rigorous fast, and grounded this law on the words of Christ himself, (Luke v. 35, )d that the Christians in the very time of the apostles extended this great Paschal fast beyond these days, probably to the nuniber of about forty days, in imitation of the fast of our divine Redeemer ; and that this was determined and fixed by the disciples of the apostles, their immediate successors in the government of the churcn.* If some think that it was only brought to this perfect number of forty days a century later/ even then it will still be true, that this fast is originally derived from the apostles, as not only the fathers of the fourth century assure us ; but as also S. Ireneeus, Tertullian, and others of the second and third clearly testify. Indeed this law could

• Can. 1. Cone. T. ii.

bConc. Nicsen. Can. Arab. cap. xix. T. ii. Cone. p. 376.

c Dr. William Beveridge, who was made bishop of S. Asaph’s in 1704, and died at bis lodgings in the cloisters in Westminster-abbey in 1708, wrote, in 1679, Codex Canon um Ecclesia primitive vindicate et illy stratus , where, in de- fence of the 69th apostolic canon, he employs the third book in demonstrating the fast of Lent to be a law of the chnrch from the earliest period, and derived from the apostles, in which he solidly confutes the Calvinist minister Daille’s slanders and mistakes concerning the antiquity of this fast, 1. de Jej units et Quadragesima .

Dr. Peter Gunning, Regius Divinity professor at Cambridge, afterwards bishop of Chichester in 1669, removed to Ely in 1674, where he died in 1684, in his book, in quarto,en titled, The Paschal or Lent fast , published in 1662, de- monstrates it to be apostolical and perpetual , and calls it an apostolical tra- dition.

See the apostolic precept and practice of the Lent fast, demonstrated by tbe venerable servant of God, Cardiual Baronius, ad. an. 67. n. 140. Ven. Card. Bellarmin, T. if. Controv. Card. Tr. Cozza Dogmatic, et Morali de Jejuniio. Card. Gotti. L. L. adversus Jacob. Picininum. T. ii. par. 1. Art. 6. sec. 4. et eequ.

• Tert. Adv. Psychic, c. ii.

• Beveridge de Jcjun. Qnadrag. c. ix. p. 416.

f Bishop Hooper, Disc, of Lent, part i. ch. 3. Bp. Patrick, Of fasting in Lent , ch. xvi. p. 143. Bingham Antiq. of the Chr. Church, B. xxi. ch. 1. T. ix. p. 196. Dr. Jer. Taylor, Ductor Dubitant b. iii. ch. 4.

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not have beet! universal from the first ages of Christianity, had it not beeri established and every where propagated by its first pastors and governors. Universality recommends to us the observance of this holy law, no less than its venerable antiquity. For so many ages all Christians, of whatever rank or denomination, in every part of the earth, have most religiously kept it. The Nestorians, Eiitychians, Armenians, and other ancient heretics in the East, though separated from the Catholic church, ever since the fifth century, have always agreed with the Catholics in this point. Nay Protestant travellers tell us, that the Christians in the East cannot be induced to believe any to be Christians who neglect this venerable and sacred law, which has been observed through all ages, by all nations in which the Christian religion has been planted : its professors are in the East every where known, and distinguished by this fast. In the fourth century, one Aerius, an Arian priest, out of jealousy, because his friend Eustathius, with whom he had some time led an ascetic life, had been preferred before him to the bishoprick of Sebaste in Lesser Armenia, in 355, made himself the head of a party, and* broached & new heresy, in which he was the precursor or patriarch of the modern Calvinists, and our English Presbyterians,* as Dr. Heylin, and Dr. Sharpe take notice. His errors are laid down as follows : — That there is no difference by divine distinction, between a bishop and a priest. 2. That it is useless to pray for the dead. 3. That it is unnecessary or not of obligation to observe feasts and fasts, which he considered as Jewish observances.5 He pretended, says S. Austin, “ that set fasts are not to be solemnly celebrated, but “ that every one is to fast when he thinks proper.”

Aerius was still living when S. Epiphanius wrote in 376, add his sect subsisted in 428, when S. Austin published his book on He- resies. His error was equally anathematized by Catholics and Arians, and was very soon extinct. This heresy therefore, far from making an exception, proves by the zeal and unanimity with which all Christians exploded and condemned it, the universality of the sacred law ; to which the most venerable fathers bear the strongest testimony through every age. S. Basil thus describes it :c “There “ is no island, no continent, no city, no nation, no comer of the earth “ever so remote, in which this fast is not proclaimed. Armies, “ travellers, sailors, merchants, though far from home, every where “ hear the solemn promulgation, and receive it with joy. Let no one “ exclude himself from the number of those that fast, in which all men “ of every age, of whatever rank and dignity are comprised. Angels “ draw up the list of those who fast : take care that your angel put “ down your name : desert not the standard of your religion.” St. Bernard cries out in this holy fast:d “Now our Saviour and Head “ assaults the devil in a general engagement with the united forces of

* See Heylin’ s History of Presbyterians, and Sharpe in his Chronologies History of Heresies, part L

b S. Epiph. Her. 7b. p. 908. S. Aug. Har. 63. T. viiL p. 18.

« S. Basil, hom. Jejun. p. 11. ed. Ben.

* S. Bernard. Serm. vii. de Quadrag. a, 4.

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“ his whole army collected together, over the whole world. Blessed 44 are they who under such a Captain shall fight manfully.” And in another sermon on Lent :a 44 Now kings and princes, clergy and 44 laity, the nobility, and the common people, the rich and poor will 44 all fast as one man.” Whence he most justly expostulates: 44 Is it 14 not most base that a fast which the whole church bears with us, 44 should seem burdensome ?” For any one who is able not to observe this universal fast of the Catholic church dispersed over the whole world, is to exclude himself from the number of the children of God. It is to declare himself a rebel against the church, by trampling her precept under his feet, and deserting its standard and the army of God ! Our obligation of doing penance, our advancement in sanctity and spiritual strength, and the other extraordinary advantages which we reap from this holy fast, are a third motive to engage us with joy to lay hold of this time of salvation : A law so necessary, so whole- some, so highly advantageous to every one in particular, ought to be most precious and most dear, as we tender our salvation or have any regard to the honour of God, or any zeal to promote his glory and advance his love in our own souls. These particular advantages of Lent will be more fully displayed in the following chapter.

CHAP, II.

On the Advantages of Holy Fatting .

We learn, from both the Old and New Testament, from the exam- ple of tlie saints, and from the constant doctrine and tradition of the church, that fasting is a great, and in general a necessary and indis- pensable part of virtue. It is a part of penance by which we satisfy for past sins : it is a means necessary for subduing the flesh, and its irregular appetites and passions, and an antidote against sin : it is an agreeable homage and a sacrifice by which we consecrate our bodies living victims to God, and a means to disengage our souls from sin and the world, to fit them for heavenly prayer and spiritual func- tions, and to advance in every virtue.

44 Fast, because thou hast sinned,” says S. Basil ;b 44 and fast, to prevent the danger of failing into sin.” This mortification is a part of our pdtiance ; an atonement and satisfaction for sins committed ; and also a remedy against the dangers of sin, and a means to subdue % our flesh, and make us victorious over our spiritual enemies. It was by intemperance, joined with pride and disobedience, that our first parents involved themselves and their posterity in sin, and all the miseries and evils under the weight of which we groan. God was pleased mercifully to oppose the virtue of fasting to that disorder, and to order that it should be a voluntary chastisement by which we should make some degree of satisfaction to his injured justice. Christ alone, being true God and true man, and appointed the Re- deemer of mankind, could make atonement for the least sin ; and by his merits and sufferings, the least of which was of infinite value, he

* 8erm. iii. ib. b S, Basil. Horn. i. de Jejun.

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has made a superabundant satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. But that the fruit of his satisfaction may be applied to our souls for the reparation of sin, he requires this condition on our parts, that we make some penal chastisement of ourselves for our sins, a part of our penance, and by bearing his mortification in our bodies, become his living copies. Sin must he punished, as S. Austin often repeats, either in this world by our voluntary choice, or if we neglect to do this, far more severely by the avenging justice of the offended Deity in the next. Repentance, if sincere, carries along with it, or implies, as one of the ingredients of which it is made up, a resolution of performing a satisfactory penance proportioned in some degree to our sins, by embracing some kind of voluntary chas- tisement. Nevertheless, the remission of sin is a gratuitous mercy, becapse our works, or those of all creatures, could never, of them- selves, be a propitiation for the least sin ; and it is only by God’s pure mercy, and the infinite merits and sacrifice of our Redeemer, that the conditions of our penance procure us this infinite happiness. Nor is this grace less gratuitous or less stupendous, because it can only be hoped for on the conditions prescribed by him who merci- fully grants it. * To desire of God pardon for sin upon any other conditions than these laid down by the divine mercy, would be inor- dinate : it would be to desire what cannot be, says S. Austin, because it would imply a fiat contradiction to the appointments and unchange- able decrees of the divine justice. A penitent, therefore, penetrated with deep compunction for his sins, by which he has basely offended his infinitely gracious God, must arm himself with holy indignation against himself ; must voluntarily punish his own criminal flesh, and execute upon himself something of that justice which his sins de- serve, in order to prevent and disarm the justice of God, the infinite weight of which he will otherwise one day fall under. That fasting is an excellent part of the external works of penance, and a powerful means of obtaining pardon of our sins, is clear from every part of the holy Scriptures both in the Old and New Testament. The Nini- vites, by their filthy abominations and crimes, had provoked heaven, and the divine vengeance was just ready to fall upon them ; but at the preaching of Jonas the people believed in God, and observed an austere fast, and cried to the Lord with all their strength^ and he, seeing their works, and that they were turned from their evil ways, # had mercy on them. (Jon. iii. 5 ; Mat. xii. 41 ; (Luke xi. 32).) The Jews usually accompanied their penance with fasting, and by it ap- peased the divine anger. (1 Kings vii. 6 (2 Kings xii. 16) 5 (Ps. xxxiv. 13); lxviii. 11 ; cviii. 24; 2 Esdr. i. 4, &c.) This, God expressly enjoined his people when he exhorted them by his Prophets to do penance for their sins. “ Be converted to me with all your heart, in “ fasting, and in weeping, and in mourning.” (Joel ii. 12 ; See (Dan. ix. 3) ; Bar. i. 5 ; Zach. vii. 5, &c.) David, and other holy penitents, saints and prophets, in the old law, had recourse to God by fasting and prayer. St. John the Baptist, the great model and apostle of penance, set the world, which he was sent to prepare by repentance to receive its Redeemer, the most admirable example. “ Penance

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“ without fasting is idle and fruitless. By fasting we make satisfac- “ tion to God,” says S. Basil.* We cannot be so blind or so hardened as to say that we have not sinned, or that we have no offences to cancel. Our whole lives rise up against us, and loudly convict us of numberless sins in every stage : sins of malice, of frailty, of commis- sion, of omission, neglect, and ignorance : sins in thought, in word, and action, by which we have defiled every organ of our senses, every faculty and power of our souls : sins by which we fear we have offended God, against almost every commandment, and every duty : sins against God, our neighbour, and ourselves ; sins private and public : sins of scandal : sins of others in which we have been accom- plices, or to which we have unwarily given occasion: hidden sins, from which we have great reason to apprehend the most dreadful dangers and evils through our spiritual blindness and irregular pas- sions : sins, in short, multiplied every day of our lives since we began to know God, beyond the number of the hairs of our head. Hither- to what penance have we done? Alas! if we measure our weak endeavours by the maxims of the gospel, by the severe canons of the primitive church, by the instructions and pathetic exhortations of the Fathers on this point, by the lives of all true penitents, how much shall we find ourselves in arrears! how shall we tremble when we consider our extreme remissness, pusillanimity, and slothfulness in complying with this essential duty ? Have we hitherto even begun to do penance in the manner we ought? We stand upon the very brink of eternity. Some or other amongst our acquaintances are every day snatched away, and swallowed up in its bottomless gulph. It will very soon be our turn ; and when we are once called out of this life, there will be no possibility of returning. There will be no more room left for doing penance. Let us hasten to make up our ac- counts with our creditor whilst we are in the way. “ It is a dreadful “ thing to fall into the hands of the living God,” (Heb. x. 31,) be- fore we have seriously endeavoured to 1 appease his indignation, and satisfy his justice by bringing forth worthy fruits of penance.

Though the precept of doing penance did not call upon us to fast for sins Committed, this holy mortification would still be a necessary means for strengthening us against temptation and danger of falling into sin. Man was created by God upright ; but, by Adam’s sin of disobedience, the flesh and its lusts, which before were perfectly obedient to the spirit, war against the soul, and tend to enervate its powers, impair its liberty, and bring it into bondage. Hence man feels a conflict within himself ; and by the rebellion of his senses, and of the lower, or sensual powers and appetites of his soul, which St. Paul calls the law of his members, he is become his own domesti# and most dangerous enemy. Hence St. James tells us, that u every “ man is tempted, being drawn away by his own concupiscence, and • “ allured. Then when concupiscence hath conceived, it bringeth “ forth sin.” (James i. 14, 15.) This law, or rebellion of the flesh, is easily strengthened by an indulgence of the sensual appetites, so

* S. Basil. Serin, i. de Jejunio.

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as to render the reformation of prevailing ill customs and habits so difficult, that this duty is expressed in holy Scripture, by “ doing vio- “ lence” to ourselves, and by “ crucifying the flesh with its lusts and “ affections/' Now, this disorder being owing to the intemperance of the first man, God has appointed that temperance should be a ne- cessary part of the remedy, and the means to which he has annexed his victorious graces, by which we are to bridle and govern this enemy, which would otherwise enslave us. We must always practise a strict temperance, curbing our inclinations, peremptorily refusing the least gratification to those that are vicious or dangerous, and often checking our affections in lawful things, that they may not gain strength, and be exorbitant and ungovernable. Hence the precept of sobriety and temperance is so strongly inculcated in the Holy Scrip- tures, as an indispensable part of our spiritual armour, without which we are sure to perish. (1 Cor. ii. 13; 1 Pet. iv. 17 ; Lukexxi. 34; 1 Pet. i. 13, and v. 8 ; (1 Thess. v. 6).) St. Paul enforces it by the example of the strict discipline and regular abstinence observed by the candidates for a crown at the ancient Grecian games of racers and wrestlers ; showing this to be a much more indispensable qualifi- cation for running successfully our race of Christian virtue, and ob- taining an incorruptible -crown. (1 Cor. ix. 24.) Nor did he think the continual labours and sufferings of his Apostleship any titles of exemption in himself ; but adds : “ I so run, not as at an uncer- “ tainty : I so fight, not as one beating the air ; but I chastise my “ body, and bring it into subjection ; lest, perhaps, when I have " preached to others, I myself should become a castaway.” (1 Cor. ix. 26, 27.) Though favoured with the most extraordinary graces, con- firmed in good nabits of all virtue, and worn out with fatigues and sufferings, he despaired of being victorious over his spiritual enemies, without the macerations of abstinence and fasting. Our domestic enemy everywhere pursues us, without allowing any truce. If he at any time seems to sleep, it is only to raise a more furious storm. If we pamper our flesh in softness and delicacy, we foster it, we arm and strengthen it against ourselves. “ He who shall have treated his “ slave daintily, shall afterwards find him rebellious.” (Pro v. xxix. 21.) “ If thou givest thy soul her desires, she will make thee a joy to thy enemies.” (Eccles. xviii. 31.) Sinners complain that their passions are strong, and that they are scarcely masters of themselves ; but what they call by the soft name of misfortune and temptation, is their crime and their condemnation ; because they do not labour to curb the restless fury of their enemy ; for which continual temperance and frequent fasting is, next to prayer and the Sacraments, the great means established by God. “ This kind of devils is not cast out but “ in prayer and fasting.” (Mark ix. 28.) Jesus Christ, the Captain of our spiritual warfare, though himself invulnerable, yet before he met the tempter, prepared himself for the combat, by consecrating forty days to the most rigorous fast, and to continual prayer, to teach us now we are to arm ourselves against the assaults of the enemy. He stood not in need of this austere fast for himself : his senses, and all the faculties of his mind, were most perfectly subject to reason,

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i)ie sovereign command of virtue, and his Father’s holy will. But he would undergo this severe penance to encourage our pusillanimity, and to sanctify our fasts by imparting to them the merit of his, through the influx of his headship over us as his members. Out of his infinite and tender compassion for our most deplorable spiritual miseries, he not only procured us this powerful remedy at tne ex- pense of his adorable incarnation, sufferings, and death ; but also, seeing our repugnance and backwardness in using it : to overcome this ne drank the cup himself to the dregs first, to engage us to ac- cept the same from his divine hand for the cure of our mortal disor- ders. How ought we to thank our amiable Sayiour for this excess of his goodness ? How ought we to be confounded; to have done so little to expiate ouy sins, and to subject the flesh to the spirit ? The physician observes a severe regimen, because it is suitable to the dis- order of the patient, and to the course of medicine necessary for his health. The physician weeps and is afflicted for him ; yet the pa- tliifi thqqgh side and weak beyond recovery by all human means, laughs in the midst of his dangers and miseries, would live in vain joy, and no restraint upon his ordinate appetites*a How strangely is all due order inverted by so preposterous a conduct ! Does not the ample tender love and compassion of our Redeemer, King, and pod, engage us cheerfully to take off with him the draught which his merciful hand not only prepares for, and presents us, but which, to invite and encourage us, he himself pleased to take first ? For our corporal health, we submit to the strictest rules of physicians, swallow the bitterest pills, and suffer the fire, knives, and sharpest lancets of surgeons. And shall we do nothing to redeem our sick souls, and establish them in the happy state of virtue, glory, and im- mortality ? $hall we do nothing for Christ and his company, who has done and suffered so much for us ?

Fy these arms the saints vanquished themselves, the world, and the devil. To fasting they were greatly indebted for their victories over their Qwn flesh, and all the powers of hell. It strengthened the just to walk in the path of innocence and virtue : and it happily restored thousands of true penitents to the divine favour, and made them tri- umphant over those enemies and passions, to which vicious habits had long enslaved them. St. John the Baptist, a great model among those who had the happiness to serve God in perfect innocence, was sanctified in his mother’s womb, and by an extraordinary grace, and rooted habits of virtue from his infancy, he had so complete a mas- tery over his senses and appetites, that St. Gregory Nazianzen sticks not to use this emphatical expression : “ That he felt no more rebel- u lion of the flesh than if he had lived without a body.” Yet his whole life was one continued austere fast. His food in the wilder- ness was only a little wild honey, with a few dried locusts, which he found in his barren mountainous desert; and when he made his| appearance among the people to prepare them by penance, to receive the world’s Redeemer, our Saviour says of him, that he came neither

* Ovid, de Reined. Amori*, Horace, (fee.

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“ eating nor drinking.” For the nourishment which he allowed his body was so extremely sparing, and of so coarse a quality, that it seemed not to be called properly the food of men. Neither did he covet man’s apparel, his being made of the rough hair of a camel. He had no house to cover him from the injuries of the heaven, nor other bed than the bare ground. Prayer was his whole occupation so long as he remained in the desert ; and in this exercise he led an heavenly and angelical life in a mortal body. Why did this most in- nocent and holy saint practise so rigorous and constant a penance ? It was to preserve his innocence, to receive vigour to his soul, and for the continual exercise of his virtue, and it was to instruct us how we are to do penance. Whilst he preached this in words, his ex-, ample was still a more moving silent preaching, which ought to compel us to enter into ourselves, and make this serious reflection : if he who is well stands in need of so severe a regimen; what must he do who is sick? If the innocent, if the most perfect saint treats his body so rigorously to keep it in subjection to the spirit, what ought the sinner to do, who has, by long habits, strengthened the tyranny of his senses and vicious affection ? All the saints earnestly loved and embraced penance ; and shall we sinners dread or shun it?

Fasting is necessary as a remedy and a means of spiritual health ; but we must not confine its advantages to this consideration. It is itself a great virtue, which sanctifies and consecrates our bodies to God. As prayer is properly the spiritual sacrifice of our souls to God, so by temperance and fasting we make our bodies an agreeable sacrifice to his divine Majesty. We owe to him not only our souls, but all that we are or have. Having received all from him, and hold- ing all of him, we are bound to pay him an homage by every thing in us, and sanctify every part of us by dedicating it to his glory. Hence St. Paul conjures us by the most tender of all God’s attributes, that of his infinite mercy, as follows : — “ I beseech you, brethren, by the " mercy of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, “ pleasing to God, your reasonable service.” (Rom. xii. 1.) He calls it a rational service, to show how much more excellent it is than the victims of beasts offered in the Jewish temple ; and conse- quently how pure, holy, and without blemish it ought to be. Our bodies are now made the members of Christ, (1 Cor. vi. 15) and the living temples of the Holy Ghost. (1 Cor. vi. 19«) With what pu- rity, with what sanctity ought we not to adorn them ? If we have had the misfortune to have made them instruments of iniquity to sin, w$ are bound more earnestly to present ourselves to God as victims of which we had robbed him, and as raised to life from the dead, now made instruments of righteousness unto God and to holiness. This he teaches us to do by all cleanliness, by crucifying the old man, de- stroying the body of sin, (Rom. vi. 18, 19,) and mortifying our mem- bers wnich are upon earth, (Rom. ii. ; (Col. iii. 5),) so long as they are in danger of being reduced under the slavery of our present state of corruption. By this are our senses and bodies cleansed, sancti- fied, made instruments of virtue, dedicated to God; and fitted to be raised in a glorified state.

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Even in the 9tate of innocence, our first parents, whilst, by prayer, they consecrated their souls to their Creator, were commanded to make a perpetual offering of their bodies by a certain abstinence. (Gen. ii. 17.) The only positive precept which God gave them in Paradise, was that of forbearing to eat of the forbidden fruit. Whence St. Ambrose, St. Basil, St. Jerom, St. Chrysostom, and other Fathers, extol, from this circumstance, the dignity of the virtue of fasting ; that it is the first and most ancient of all the positive laws which God gave to men. But this law is far more extensive and more necessary, since the corruption of our nature by sin, it being now become a remedy of our disorders. God promises to us by it not only his graces to heal all our infirmities, and to strengthen our weakness, but declares this virtue to be a means of obtaining all his graces and favours in this life, and a reward of eternal glory. Hence Christ says, that if thou fast oft in secret, and in cheerfulness, 44 Thy father who seeth in secret, will reward thee openly .” (Matt, vi. 18.) Sampson and Samuel were the fruit of their mother’s fast- ing. Sarah was delivered from the power of the devil by fasting : what wonders were the effects of the fasts of Daniel, Judith, and Esther ? By continual fasting and prayer the widow Anna, men- tioned by S. Luke, devoted herself to the divine service in the tem- ple. By the same, so many holy hermits in the deserts were made the terror of the devil, and a most pleasing spectacle to God and his angels.

Fasting has a particular virtue to disengage our hearts from earthly things, from the objects of our passions, and from inordinate attach- ment of our hearts to creatures. Intemperance clogs the soul, fet- ters her affections, renders her altogether earthly, carnal, and beastly, so stupified and dull as to be in a great measure incapable of spiritual functions. Fasting disentangles her affections, gives her wings to take her flight above earthly things, fits her wonderfully for the most sublime gifts of prayer, and for the contemplation of God and heavenly things. Moses and Elias were both prepared by a fast of forty days to converse with God. Daniel, after a fast of three weeks, was fa- voured with the highest revelations. The Macariuses, the Antonies, the Pachomiuses, were assisted by fasting to arrive at that sublime spirit of prayer which made them the wonders of the world, and transformed them into angels, whilst they yet remained in a mortal state.

All the saints were remarkable for their love of this virtue, and their fervour in practising it according to their strength and circum- stances. Many made their whole lives one continued fast, and that so severe as to seem almost a perpetual miracle. They set no other bounds to their mortifications but those of necessity, and this their prudence, which in our days would have passed for indiscretion, was nevertheless that of the Holy Ghost. Their heroic example is not indeed a model for our imitation : any like attempts, without certain marks of an extraordinary inspiration, perfect submission to prudent advice, and long and gradual progress in habits of abstinence, by which the body might be inured to bear them, would be highly blameable,

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and could not fail being productive of mischief. But their fervour ought to cover us with confusion, and silence our murmurs under our slight mortifications : and with them we ought to be thoroughly in- structed in the maxims of eternal wisdom or of the Holy Ghost, which are those of religion and true virtue ; by which we are taught that the superstructure of virtues is no better than a ruin, if it be not raised upon the solid foundation of humility and mortification. As the grain sown on the ground dies in the earth before it brings forth fruit, so we must die to ourselves by the mortification of our senses: and the denial of our own will and irregular appetites, in order to re- cover and maintain the dominion over ourselves and our passions, before we can bring forth the true fruit of virtues. These will be rather leaves, or appearances and shadows, than true fruit, so long as our good works are blasted by the infected air of self-love, vanity, and the private interests of irregular selfish passions. Hence religi- ous and devout persons, even in the old law, showed their ardour in the pursuit of virtue by the frequency and prudent severity of their fasts, by which they consecrated their bodies to God, living victims of penance and all holiness, subdued their flesh, kept their senses under the government of reason and virtue, and prepared their souls for the spiritual and heavenly functions of prayer, and for leading angelical lives on earth. Witness Anna, the prophetess, the holy widow, who deserved to know and adore the Redeemer of the world, when, after his birth, he was presented in the temple, having for many years consecrated her widowhood to God, “ departed not u from the temple serving night and day, by fastings and prayers.”

ciples should observe regular fasts when he should leave them. (Matt. ix. 15.) The disciples of S. John the Baptist were remarka- ble for their fasts. (Matt. xi. 18.) The Rechabites who received their institute from Jonadab, one of their Patriarchs in the reign of Jehu, and were some time after admitted, on account of their religi- ous lives, to be porters in tbe temple, and to sing the divine praises under the Levites, observed a perpetual abstinence from wine. (Jer. xxxv. 8 (Ps. ii. 55).)a Others, who particularly dedicated themsebtes to the service of God amongst the Jews, known by the generical name of Assideans, (Macc. ii. 42; vii. 13 ; and 2 Macc. xiv. 6,) probably distinguished themselves by their abstinence. This the Nazarites did by a vow, some for a time, others for their whole lives. (Numb. vi. 2, 21; Jud. xiii. 7, 16; (Amos ii. 12) (Acts xviii. 18); xxi. 26.) The Pharisees could not even wear the appearance of sanctity, without observing extraordinary fasts. “ I fast twice a-week,” said one of those boasters of counterfeit virtue. (Luke xviii. 12. See Numb, xxx. 14.) The servants of God, in all ages, made fasting part of their devotion, particularly in times of penance, affliction, and fervent prayer ; fasting gave singular efficacy to their supplications, which it

• Sea Calmet’d Dias, on the Rechabites, at the head of his Con. on Jeremy, f. viii p. 70, and Piet. Bibl. T. ii.

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accompanied. The Jews observed a fast, by Samuel’s direction, after their sin and defeat by the Philistines. (1 Kings vii. 6.) King David, on all occasions, as in his child’s sickness. (2 Kings xii. 16.) In his penance he says : “ I humbled my soul with fasting (Ps. xxxiv. 13 ;) and again, under persecution : “ I covered my soul in “ fasting, and I made hair-cloth my garment.” (Ps. lxvii. 11, 18.) And in another place : “ My knees are weakened through fasting.” (Ps. cviii. 24.) The pious king Josaphat had recourse to fasting and prayer in time of danger. (2 Par. or Chron. xx. 3, 6.) Esdras, in penance. (1 Esdr. viii. 21, 23.) The wicked A chab, by fasting and penitence, averted the divine indignation. (3 Kings xxi. 27, 29.) Nehemias, by fasting and prayer, obtained of God the more speedy re-establishment of the Jews after their captivity. (2 Esdr. 1, 4.) Judith aud the Jews of Bethulia, (Judith iv. 8, 12,) by fasting and prayer, were protected by heaven against the army of Holofernes. cy fasting on all days, except the Sabbath and festivals, and by assi- duous prayer and retirement, the holy heroine consecrated her wi- dowhood to God. (Judith vii. 5, 6.) Esther, in her penance and affliction for the people of God, “ humbled her body with fasts,” (Esther xiv. 2 ;) and to move God to bless her endeavours for their de- liverance, she fasted with her maids and Mordecai. (Esther iv. 16.) Tobias joined fasting and alms with prayer, by which he deserved ft miraculous relief ana comfort. Whence the angel Raphael said to him: “ Prayer is good with fasting and alms, more than to lay up “ treasures of gold.” (Tob. xii. 8.) Almighty God, by hisprophetft in the old law, by his Apostles in the new, and by the mouth of his divine Son, strongly recommends fasting to us as a great meant of virtue, and itself an excellent virtue, and he prescribes the conditions by which it is to be sanctified, and made the fast which he require*. (Isa. lviii. 3, 6, 9 ; (Joel i. 14) ; ii. 12, 15 ; Zach. vii. 5 ; (Matt. vi. 16); xii. 20.) The lives of the Apostles, and many among their disciple^ and the primitive Christians, were in some measure a perpetual fast.* Nay, so severe was the discipline, temperance, and sobriety, which aft Christians observed, that it might almost deserve that name.* More- over, the Apostles kept particular fasts of devotion on extraordinary occasions, and instituted certain regular fasts in the year, as Lent, ana Wednesdays and Fridays every week. S. Paul fasted much, and ex- horted Christians to imitate him in his labours, in his watchings, and in his fastings. (Acts xiii. 2 ; xiv. 22 ; (2 Cor. vii. 9), and xi. §7.)

CHAP. III.

The particular Motives for the Institution of the Fast of Lent.

Private fasting has peculiar advantages, (Matt. vi. 16, 18,) if with- out danger of superstition, affectation, singularity, or pride ; and if ac- companied with prudence, and all other conditions necessary to make it agreeable to God. But general fasts usually are still of rar greater

* See the Lives of S. Peter, S. Paul, £k James the Less, S. Mark, <fec.

See Clemens Alex. L 2, Peedag. c. 1. Fleury, Manus des Chret. § 8 and 9.

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efficacy, and more prevailing power, in the same manner as has been said of public prayer. Such was that of the Ninevites, in which all the people joined as one man : it was even extended to the brute beasts, that the sight of their affliction might in a more striking man* ner excite men to mourn for their sins, by which they had provoked the anger of God against the whole country. (Jon. iii. 7.)

Among the Jews, in the ancient law, the synagogue, or Sanhedrim, frequently commanded extraordinary days of fast in times of public calamities, or of some urgent necessity. In the fifth year of king Jo&kim, in the ninth month, such a fast was proclaimed before the Lord to all the people in Jerusalem. (Jer. xxxvi. 9*) And Jere- miah ordered Baruch to read the threats and the words of the Lord to the people, on the fasting day. (Jer. xxxvi. 6.) The Jews, not content to observe annual fasts, to avert public calamities, on the 3rd of September, the 10th of December, the 17th of June, the 9th of July, and the 13th of February, kept an extraordinary fast: and in times of great drought, two or three days a week, when proclaimed by the Sanhedrim.*

In the Christian church it has been always the custom for the bishops to command extraordinary fasts on particular occasions. Tertullian, when a Montanist, early in the third century, pretended to justify the superstitious fasts of his sect, because amongst the Catholics : “ The bishops are accustomed to command general fasts, “ on account of circumstances of difficulty or danger in which the “ church might be.Wb The Third Council of Tours, in 813,C the Emperor Charlemagne,*1 and Lewis the Debonnaire,* command all persons to observe whatever fasting days are ordained by the bishops: the latter of these two princes, by the counsel of the bishops, pub- lished himself an order for keeping a solemn fast, to deprecate the indignation of heaven, manifested by a pestilence and famine/ Pope Nicholas I., in his answer to the consultation of the Bulgarians, says : The prince and his council might command a fasting day in times of great droughts ; but that it was better to leave that to the bishops.*

The ancient Jews also observed yearly general fasting days. Such was the solemn fast of expiation for their sins, on the tenth day of the seventh month, commanded by God himself, (Lev. xvi. 29, 30,) the only day in the year on which the high priest entered the taber- nacle, (and when the temple was built, the Holy of Holies, or inner- most sanctuary, in which the ark was placed) to sprinkle it with the blood of victims. The Prophet Zachary mentions three other annual fasts of the fourth, fifth, and tenth months. (Zachar. viii. 19*) The later synagogue added two other general fasts every week, on

* See Sigonius de Republics Hebrteorum, 1. iv. c. 18, and Nicolai's Annotations, ib. p. 410, Ac. Dom. Jos. de l’lsle Hist du Jenne, 1. iii. ch. 1, p. 206. Fleur t, Moenrs dm Israelites, ch. xvi. p. 128, and the Council of Selingestad, in 1022, T. fx. p. 847.

h TerL de Jejun. c. xiii.j 551.

c Conc.Tnron. iii can. 47, T. vii. Cone. 25.

« Capital. 1. i. Capit 47 T. i. p. 719. • Ib. 1. ii. c. 7, 11, 738.

1 Baron ad ann. 828, n. 29 and 30.

* NicoL 1, ad Consults Bulg. cap. 56, T. riii. Cone. p. 536.

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Mondays and Thursdays, in remembrance of the profanation and destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians. On this account we find in the Apostolical Constitutions, that it was a law among the pri- native Christians for all to fast every Wednesday and Friday, in memory of the sufferings and death of Christ, it is there added, that all who had the devotion might fast five days every week ; but were forbidden to keep set fasts on Mondays or Thursdays, lest they should seem to do it in conformity with the Jews.* If the Jewish synagogue had authority to command both regular and extraordinary fasts, for weighty and spiritual reasons, who will deny this to the church of Christ ? In all things which regard the social or civil life, he subjected it to the government of the civil state : obedience to which, and to all lawful superiors, is an essential duty of. the law of nature, which he confirms in the strongest manner in his gospeL But as he has established his church a perfect society of men, united in all the external duties of divine worship, and in the participation of the same holy mysteries, he settled in it a sacred hierarchy, or spi- ritual government. And he certainly gave a spiritual authority to its chief pastors to maintain union and good order, to regulate what belongs to discipline, with regard to the divine service, tne adminis- tration of the sacraments, and the like, (Mat. xvi. 19 ; xviii. 17 ; (Acts xv. 20); Cor. xi. 16 & 34; (1 Cor. iv. 1), 4; vii. 17 ;) an authority which the Apostles and their successors have always claimed and exercised. To this belongs the institution of certain festivals and fasting days on great and just occasions. Certainly in this point, the church of Christ has not less authority than the Jewish synagogue formerly had. As the Jews had their weekly, monthly, and yearly fasts, so was it fitting that the church of Christ should have regular appointed fasts. Protestants allow that particular fasting days may be commanded on extraordinary occasions : why not yearly fasts, which have been the constant rule and practice of the church from the beginning ? Has not the church, has not every particular Christian powerful reasons, and often an urgent necessity for fasting ; whether we consider it as a remedy against sin, or as a means of disposing our souls for heavenly contemplation ; or as a virtue which gives the most prevailing efficacy to our prayers ; or as a means very powerful, and often necessary, for curbing and restraining our sensual appetites and passions, and making the flesh readily obedient to the law of reason and the gospel. On this last account particularly, Dr. Stephen Weston, late Bishop of Exeter, shows the obligation of practising frequently some degree of fasting or abstinence, by denying our body its ordinary food, or by some abatement in the quantity or choice.1*

* Constit. A post 1. vii. c. 24. See Sir George Wharton on the Feasts and Fasts of the Jews , p. 12. Calmet. Diet, fiibl. T. i. p. 65*2, who gives an account of twenty-four yearly fasting days, regularly observed by the ancient Jews. See on the name, Leo of Modena, on the Rites and Customs of the modern Jewsy chap. 8, and Mr. Lewis on the Hebrew Antiquities , 1. iv. c. 14, on the fasts of the Jews.

fc See Dr. Stephen Weston, late Bishop of Exeter, T. i. Sermon 19. On Mortification. Also Dr. Taylor; the whole Duty of Man; Lucas's Practical Christianity, part i. ch. 7. part iv. ch. 4. p. 399, and many other Protestant Authors,

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General regular fasts call upon all to comply with this duty, render it of much greater efficacy by the combination of the whole church, and by the example of others, animate every one to embrace this means of sanctification with fervour and compunction* When this precaution is neglected, as amongst Protestants, the practice of fasting is scarcely so much as known.* Duties of this kind are seldom comphed with as they ought, unless regular times are allotted for that purpose.

* The Heathens, in most parts of the world, ascribed a virtue to fasting, and placed it, on many occasions, among the works of religion ; which notion they must have derived, with many others, from the Patriarchal religion. S. Jerotn confutes the Heretic Jovinian, who denied the virtue of fasting, by the example of the ancient Egyptian priests, who abstained from flesh, eggs, milk, and wine, In order to restrain the lusts of sensual pleasures, and to preserve their mind free from the fumes of intemperance. They seldomer eat bread, as more apt in their Country to load the stomach, and create an heaviness, than rice or pulse seasoned With oU ; and when they took any, they eat with it bitter hyssop, to accelerate digestion. (S. Hier. adv. Jovin. 1. iL T. 4. |>. 205, 206.) S. Jerom also tells us, that the Magians in Persia, being divided into three classes, those of the first class, who were the most learned and the most eloquent, never allowed them- selves any other food but meal and pulse. That the Gymnosophists in India, both the Brachmans and the Samneans, or Sermanes, lived wholly on the fruit of trees, which grow on the banks of the Ganges, and on rice and meal. That the prophets of Jupiter in Crete abstained from flesh and whatever is dressed by Are; and the priests of Elusina, or Ceres, in Greece, from fowls, fish, and the fruits of certain trees. (Ib.) S. Leo assures us. that the idolaters had their fasting days, which they religiously observed. ( Serm . 77 de Jqun. Pentec. c. iL T. i. p. 331.) The priests of the idols, in any places, never offered sacrifice, but after a preparation by fasting and continence. (See Alex, ab Alexandra, 1. iv. C. 17.) Tertullian says, the Heathens disposed themselves by a fast, before they consulted the Oracles, (1. de Anima, c. 48.) And they sometimes imitated the Xeronbagie of the Christians. (Ib.) Before offering sacrifice to Ceres, no one eat till after sun-set, and then all abstained from wine, and lived continent. (S. Cvt. Alex. adv. Jul. 1. 6. c. xix. p. 250.) Whoever were initiated in the mysteries of Isis, prepared themselves for that ceremony by abstaining ten days from flesh end wine. (Julian, in Mysopog. inter Opera. S. Cyrilli, T. L p. 260.) Julian the Apostate sometimes confined his meals to pulse, upon motives of religion, (ibid.) Toe Athenian and Egyptian women, on certain festivals, fasted and lay on the hare ground. (See Joseph Laurent, de Pr&nd. <fe Cen. Vet- c. 22. apud Gronov. p. 349.) On the fasts of the aucient idolaters : see also Salmasius in Solanum.

LI 60 ; Julius Scaliger, Poetic. 1. i. c. 32, de Cerealibus Ludis, dfcc. The Ma- metans, both Turks, Persians, and the other 70 sects, into which Mahome- tanism is divided in the Eastern countries, strictly keep the fast of the ninth Arabian month, called Ramazan, which falls sometimes in Summer, some- times in Winter, shifting successively through all the seasons of the year ; be- cause their year is lunar, without any intercalation, and its months alternately of 29 and 30 days. No one is excused from fasting, neither women, soldiers, tra- vellers, labourers, nor artificers ; neither poor nor rich ; the Sultan himself fasts like others. The sick, who are unable to keep the fast this month, are obliged to fast some other month, or as many days of it as were wanting, after their re- covery. They fast, without eating or drinking any thing, and are not allowed even to wash their faces from sun-rise to sun-set. Those who are more devout begin it from midnight. (Chardin Voyage de Perse, T. vii. p. 347, T. ii. p. 162. Busebech Legat. Turcic. ep. iii. p. 252.) The ancient and modern Jews have al- ways esteemed fasting a pious practice of religion. (See Basnage Hist, des Juifs, 1. vii. c. 18, Art. iv.) So deeply is the sense of this religions duty imprinted in the minds of men, through all ages and nations, that most sects of infidels and heretics thought it so essential a part of religion, as to pervert, by superstition, what they acknowledged from a general tradition derived from the Patriarchs of

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Christ himself prescribed to his church the regular observance of fasts, after he should be taken from it by his death and ascension* The Jews objected to him, that his disciples, though devoted to a

the human race, to be a means of atonement for sin, and an homage paid to the t)eity. Their superstitious practices, however, differed widely from the blas- phemous doctrine of those who abstained from certain meats as evil in them- selves, and the work of an evil principle, or demon, all creatures being good in their own nature, and the work of the true God. The distinction of a good and evil principle, or God, was a fundamental error of a numerous sect of Oriental philosophers, so ancient in Persia and the Indies that Isaac Voasius, (/. de ldolutria , 1. i. c. i.) supposes this to have been the first degree of idolatry, by which men apostatised from the worship of the true God. (See Wolfius’s Mctnu ehesmue ante Manichomm , and the authors quoted by him, p. SOL) It is indeed the more common opinion, that men first fell into idolatry by paying divine ho- nours to the sun, moon, and stars, called the host of heaven ; or first to angels, as Le Clerc thinks ; then to the stars, and afterwards to men who had been fa- mous or dear to them. It is, however, certain, that the doctrine of a good and bad principle was very ancient in some systems of the Oriental philosophy, very different mom all the sects of the Greek philosophers, commonly attributed to Zoroaster, the author of the Ch&ldsean and Persian philosophy. (See St&nleii Philosophic Orientals, 1. ii. c. 6. Joan. Clerid, Index Philolog. in Hist . Philos • Orient.) Hence first proceeded those impious and superstitions notions, that certain meats are in their own nature evil : though others fell into this error up- on other superstitious principles, and some ancient and modern Indian sects of idolaters abstain from animal food, upon the principle of the transmigration of human souls into beasts ; others because they imagine certain beasts sacred to their false deities. To such extravagance is this superstition carried by some Indian sects, in Mogul and elsewhere, that if such or such an animal has touched, or been maliciously thrown upon any among them, the rest fly from him as profaned, and abandon him to be carried into slavery, dec.

The heresies of the three first centuries were often formed by a mixture of superstitions of the Oriental philosophy. The Gnostics of various classes, began to disturb the church in the reign of Adrian, as Clemens of Alexandria mentions. (Strom. 1. vii. c. 1 7. pp. 998, 899.) Their errors had made their appearance mors early, as is manifest from (1 John ii. 18) ; 1 Tim vi 20 ; Col. ri. 8 ; bnt were kept under by the authority of the apostles so long as they lived. (See Thomas fttigius. L de Haeresiarchis, iEvi apostolici <fe proximi. Tillemont, Ac.) Several among these taught the doctrine of devils, forbidding men to marry, and abstain- ing from meats as things evil in themselves, (1 Tim. iv. 3). In succeeding ages, the like blasphemies were spread by the Marcionites, Manicheee, PauHanists, Ac. This superstitious abstinence, as if meat were in itself unclean, and from thence evil, the Apostle condemns, (1 Tim. iv. 3) ; not an abstinence of mortification and penance, and of obedience to the church upon motives of virtue. Again, when the same Apostle says, “ Whatsoever is sold in the shambles, that eat, asking no “ questions for conscience sake,” (1 Cor. x. 25) ; he evidently speaks ofmeats which might have been offered to idols, and which it was lawful to eat, where people had no scruple, and did not do it out of superstition. When Christ says. Matt, xv. 11, “That which goeth into the month doth not defile a man,” he means that there is no uncleanness in the meat which defiles the soul — and can no way be understood of fasts commanded by God and his church, a transgression of which defiles not by any uncleanness of the meat, bnt by the disobedience. Thus a Jew in the old law would have been defiled by eating blood or swine’s flesh ; and our first parents were thus defiled by eating the forbidden fruit in Paradise.

Faustus, the Manichean, appealed to the fasts of the Catholic church, pretend- ing by them to justify the superstitious abstinence from certain meats, as evil in themselves, prescribed in his sect. “ Yon keen Lent,” says he, “abstaining “ from wine and flesh meat, without superstition. To this S. Austin answered, that to abstain in order to subdue the nesh, and for the spiritual advantage of the soul, is the duty of a Christian and Catholic ; but to refrain from any meats, Upon the persuasion that they are unclean, or not created by God, is the doctrine allying devils. (1. 30. contra Faustina, c. 3, £ 6.)

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religious course of life, practised no regular extraordinary fastings, as the disciples of the Baptist did, iu imitation of their master, and as all others did who made profession of strict virtue, though doubtless both he and his disciples Kept the fasts then observed by the Jews in general. Our Divine Redeemer answered, that the time he re- mained with them was very short, and as it were the time of his espousal ; and the joy and comfort he afforded them by his presence was represented by nis not commanding them extraordinary fasts, which their weakness, in the beginning of their conversion from the world, rendered them not yet disposed or very fit for. “ But,” says he, “ the days will come when the bridegroom shall be taken from “ them, and then shall they fast in those days.” (Luke v. 35.) In these words he commanded, or at least foretold and pointed out what they were to do after his departure from them. And here he speaks of regular set fasts, and these frequent, such as those were of the religious persons whose example was alleged to him. The Apostles could not fail to comply with this injunction, to conform to his spirit, and follow his direction. The primitive Christians, probably from the Apostles themselves, understood his words to imply a clear and express command of fasting yearly on the days of his sufferings and death, on which he was taken from the church. This Tertullian mentions as a point universally agreed on, amongst both Catholics and Heretics of every denomination. Whence he calls these the days of the fast prescribed by Christ himself in the gospel, and says that the others were left to the discretion of the church.

On the precept of passing Good Friday and Easter eve in a ri- gorous fast, Bishop Beveridge shows it, from these words of Ter- tullian,a to have undoubtedly been an Apostolical practice and precept; nay, according to the tradition of the primitive ages, a command, in some measure at least, of Christ himself. This he confirms by the following remarks : “ It having been the custom of the Jews, as is “ well known, that every dutiful child kept the anniversary day of his “ father’s death a solemn fast as long as they lived, in token of their u affliction and grief, b nothing seems more absurd, upon motives both “ of reason and of faith, than that the Apostles should not fast every “ year, on the day on which their dearest master, the only Saviour “ of mankind, the eternal Son of God, was pleased, for their sins (t and those of others, to suffer most cruel torments and a barbarous “ death. Who amongst the very last of his followers would not, “ upon the yearly return of this day, say to himself : On this very “ day for my sins the only begotten Son of God was loaded with “ contempt, torn with scourges, crowned with thorns, and hung on a “ cross ; alas l by his own creatures ? For me, and in my place, base “ wretch that I am, he underwent a most painful and most ignomi- “ nious death. And shall I pass this day in worldly joy, in indulging “ my senses, and in pleasing my appetites, by gluttony ? Shall I not

• Certe in Evangelio illos Diet Jejuni* determinate in Evangelio put ant Ca- tholic^ in quibu* ablatxu est Spontus . Tert. de Jyttnio, c. 2. See also cfc, IS, ibid. b See E&snage, Hist, de Juifr, T, ?, I, 7, c, 6, Art. 4.

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“ on it, at least, afflict myself for those sins by which I crucified my “ Lord ? God forbid I should be so ungratefully abandoned and “ insensible. Certainly if any of us, or of those who reject with the “ greatest virulence the laws of all regular fasting days, did but “ seriously meditate on the inexpressible torments which our Lord “ sustained for us, it would be, I do not say very difficult, but abso- “ lutely impossible that we should not be moved to afflict ourselves “ on this day, by a mournful fast. How much more must this have “ been impossible in those holy Apostles and disciples who had en- “ joyed the happiness of his example and conversation, been witnesses “ to his miracles, and heard his divine instructions,” &c. This learned Protestant prelate and theologian observes, that the very name of the forty days’ fast, the unanimous agreement of all churches, and the testimonies of ancient fathers show this Antepaschal fast to have been extended by the devotion of the faithful, and soon after by an eccle- siastical precept, in general to about six weeks. He asks, to what circumstance of this fast any objection can be made ? Fasting in itself, no one can deny to be a virtue and a religious duty. To fast by precept, and at regular set times, cannot be liable to any censure, since God himself enjoined a regular yearly fast in the Jewish law* (Levit. xvi. 39.) The season no one can call improper: “For “in what part of the year is it more suitable to observe our “great fast than in that when we commemorate the sufferings of “Christ;” as St. Austin says.* The number of forty days is consecrated by the fasts of Moses, Elias, and Christ himself. Is it not a commendable zeal to strive to imitate our Divine Master’s fast in some degree, and according to our strength ? Thus Dr. Be- veridge.

This example of our dear Redeemer fasting forty days in the desert is another motive for the institution of Lent. Moses, appointed by God the Legislator of the Jews, his chosen people, fasted forty days to prepare himself to converse with God, and to receive his divine law on Mount Sinai, which he repeated when he received the tables of the law a second time. (Deut. ix. 9, 18.) Elias, before be was favoured with the wonderful apparition of God on Mount Horeb, fasted forty days and forty nights. (3 Kings xix. 8.) As the law of nature was consecrated by a fast of forty days in Moses* before he had received the written law and the law of the Prophets* or the written law by Elias, so was the law of grace by Christ, that the three different states of religion might each give a sanction to this means of sanctity and virtue, and receive a sanction by it. In like manner as Moses and Elias represented the old law in its two different states, when they appeared with Christ at his transfiguration,

SMatt. xvii. 3,) to bear testimony to the new law, of which the ormer had been types and figures ; Christ fasted for us, to teach us the virtue and necessity of mortification to sanctify our fast9 and render them easy, to encourage us to undertake them cheerfully, and to show us in wnat manner we might use our bodies, by them to dia*

* 9. Aug. ep, 119, none, 66, ad Januar. c, 16, T, i L p. 166.

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arm and overcome the . devil, who otherwise makes use of them to tempt and enslave us. From his example we learn the means by which, through his grace, we must destroy sin in ourselves ; and by restraining our senses, and doing necessary violence to our rebellious flesh, combat the devil by our very bodies, and make them serve for arms against him. The church therefore, by a prudent and holy zeal, calls upon all her children to unite all their forces, and under the Captain of our spiritual warfare, to imitate his fast according to our weak abilities.

Such a course of fasting and penance cannot but be of great ser- vice for the reformation of vice, and the improvement of virtue among Christians. The Protestant author of 44 Sober and serious 44 Considerations, occasioned by the death of King Charles II., and 44 the time of Lent following it,** ‘ shows how highly advantageous the

* religious observation of Lent must prove to those who sincerely endea-

* vour to set about the duty of this holy fast, accompanied with read-

* ing, meditation, assiduous prayer, repentance, consideration, and

* serious reflection upon themselves : which great work, if it were not

* imposed upon them, they would perhaps pass over very careless and

* slightly, or possibly never find a proper time to apply themselves to.

* Were it only by laying aside their sins for a season, tney would begin 4 to be emancipated from their habits, and disposed to discern and 4 relish divine truths, which they were incapable of, whilst blinded 4 and infatuated by the steams of their lusts and vices, so long as they 4 wallowed in them. These aids, together with their extraordinary 4 devotions for obtaining divine grace, and the spiritual counsels and 4 advice of an experienced director (especially how to avoid the occa- 4 sions of sin for the future, and to be armed against the assaults of the 4 enemy,) will strongly enable them to renew sincerely their baptismal 4 vows, and faithfully perform them to God. And as to such persons 4 as are truly virtuous, how acceptable must needs such a time be to 4 them ; a season of extraordinary exercise of piety, charity, and devo- 4 tion, in which they study, by the most serious examination of their 4 hearts, to discover and reform all that is a deviation from their holy 4 profession, and make their accounts even with God: to make their 4 lives a perfect sacrifice to God, improve their hearts in his love and 4 all virtues, devoutly commemorate the sufferings of our Redeemer, 4 and prepare themselves to approach the divine mysteries, and to 4 celebrate the holy feast of Easter in angelical purity and heavenly ‘jubilee.* The same author adds: 4 That it is foundby experience, 4 that the religious observation of Lent is a mighty restraint to pro- oneness ana debauchery, even where men are most exquisite]) 4 wicked. It hath been a matter of wonder to travellers, to see what 4 an appearance, at least of demureness, sobriety, and seriousness, all 4 men generally take upon them at this time. I will give it you in 4 the words of a worthy gentleman of our own church and nation, a

■ This short Treatise was dedicated to Lord Dartmouth, licensed by WflL Needham, Chaplain to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and printed in the begin- ning of the year 1685, and again in 16S6. The Author’s name is only mentioned by the initial letters, p. 4.

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1 great traveller and observer in foreign parts,* when speaking of Italy, 1 ne saith : “ That, notwithstanding the growth of vice, the people of ‘ all sorts are much reformed during the time of Lent : no blas- phemies or foul words as before ; their vanity of all sorts is

* laid reasonably aside, their pleasures abandoned, their apparel, their

* diet, and all things else, composed to austerity and a state of peni-

* tence. They have then daily sermons, with collection of alms, to

* which all men resort, and, to judge by their outward show, they

* seem generally to have great remorse of their sins ; insomuch that, ‘ I must confess, I seemed to myself in Italy to have best learned the

* right use of Lent ; there first to have discerned the great fruit of ‘ it, and the reason for which those sages in the church first instituted

* it Neither can I yield to the fancies of those who, because we € ought at all times to lead lives worthy of our profession, think it 1 superstitious to have any time in which we are to exact or expect it

* more than another 5 but conceive that it is a hard matter to hold

* men within the lists of piety, and that it is therefore fit that there ‘ should be a time in the year, and that of a reasonable continuance,

* to constrain men to recall themselves to more serious thoughts and

* courses, lest sin, by having no bridle, should become headstrong and

* unconquerable, and men be inured to vice.* Thus Sir Edwin Sands, quoted by our author. " It is necessary,” says St. Leo, “ that u even religious hearts contract something of earthly dust.” It is, consequently, a most wholesome and necessary rule, that all per- sons should renew their vigour, from time to time, with redoubled fervour and study, to repair their losses with advantage ; for which certain seasons are wisely instituted. Thus will a spirit of piety and penance be easily maintained and improved during the course of our lives, and these duties which we cannot make our constant employ, with equal fervour and attention, will be perfectly performed by giv- iflg them our whole care, in certain proper seasons set apart for these exercises.

The forty days’ fast of Christ is not the only motive for deter- mining the number of the days of this holy penitential time. The Fathers take notice, that the church commands us, by this fast, to consecrate the tithe, or tenth part of every year, and of our lives, to the most fervent exercises of religion. In the law of nature we find, that Abraham gave to Melchisedec, the high priest and king of Salem, the tithe of all the booty he had taken from the enemies. (Gen. xxxviii. 22.) And in the written law, God ordained that the tithe should be paid to the Levites of all the revenue of the country, that is, of all tne seed or grain, and of all the fruit growing in the fields,5 (Levit. xxvii. 30, 31, 32,) to which the Pharisees added, that of the pulse and herbs growing in their gardens, (Matt, xxiii. 23 ; (Luke xi. 42),) which our Saviour did not disapprove, though he blamed their vanity and pride. In the Talmud we read, that all which is produced from the earth was liable to first fruits and tithes.0 After these were paid, a second tenth part, either in kind or in money, was

* Sir Edwin Sands in his Europe? Speculum .

5 See Selden. De Decimis. Spencer de JLegibn Ritual. Hebr.

* Thalmud. Serder. Seain. Masseo.

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applied towards the celebrating of festivals in the temple, or in cha- rity feasts, either in Jerusalem, or in every one’s own town. (Deut. xiv. 22.)* These offerings were made as an acknowledgment or tri. bute to God, for the fruits, which are his benefits. In like manner, it is most just that we offer to God the tithe of our lives, consecra- ting to him a tenth part of the year, by a devout fast, as St. Gregory the Great observes.b For 36 days are a tenth part of the year; and so many only were formerly fasting days, before the four days of the seventh week were added, to make the fast completely of forty days. For if we subtract the six Sundays on which the faithful only ab- stained, we shall find the fast reduced to thirty-six days.

This season of the year was chosen as most proper, not only in ho- nour of the sufferings of Christ, but also that this penitential time might be. a preparation for the great festival of Easter, and to the divine mysteries, which we are obliged then to receive with the ut- most punty and devotion. To fit ourselves for our heavenly nup- tials, and to attend our heavenly bridegroom in his glorious triumpn, perfectly risen with him, and clothed with his spirit and grace, is a great work. Therefore is Lent instituted as an eve of forty days to this holy solemnity, as St. Leo, St. Gregory, St. Charles Borrommo, and other zealous pastors put us in mind.

Neither is it beneath the consideration of the church, in this holy institution, to have a regard to the motive of our corporal health. As extreme temperance and abstemiousness are its best guardinns, so is fasting often its safest and most easy restorer.0 By it, so many ancient

* Lyran. in Deuteron. xxvi. 12. Joseph Antiquities, 1. vi. c. 8.

b S. Greg. M. Horn. 16. n. 6. T. i. p. 1494.

« The most frequent disorders which are incident to the human frame, are occasioned by an over-repletion, which oppresses the animal powers, and impedes their functions : or by the vicious qualities of the blood, and other humours or juices, not sufficiently concocted and subacted, originally rising, from some excess or peccant properties of the food, which oppress the organs of. digestion, and produce fatal obstructions and other mischiefs in the most delicate part of the body, and undermine the strongest constitution beyond tbe power of remedy. And this is often true, even in distempers of decay, in which, above all others, the cure is most difficult, as a reparation of what is lost or worn, is sometimes almost akin to a new creation, at least is always infinitely harder, and a work of longer time and gradual process, than a bare discharging or purging away of what is noxious. Tbe main preservative against all sncb seeds of the most ordinary and most fatal distempers, is certainly abstemiousness, and a choice of more farinacious, and in sound bodies wholesome vegetable, than animal food. For though the latter in a moderate quantity gives more strength, its salts easily form obstructions, and create gross juices, which lay the foundation of a scorbu- tic habit of the blood, justly called by Boerhaave, a legion of most fatal diseases. Though unripe and unfermented farinacious vegetables, salted or smoked fish or flesh, bad water to drink, a moist soil near stagnating waters, and a sedentary life, are frequent causes of the scurvy, it must be allowed that our extreme vora- ciousness of animal food, much more than any quality in the air, makes this dis- order so rife and prevalent amongst ns. Nor is there a more sovereign preserva- tive, or remedy against it, than a wholesome vegetable diet, especially of the antiscorbutic kinds, and in spring, when herbs are fresh, and their juices pure. See Haller, Van Swieten on Boerhaave, <fcc. We must except sallads of the colder kind, and not allow vegetables to weak constitutions, the fibres of this food being too strong to be broke and concocted, without strong and vigorous Action of the stomach, Dr, Arbuthnot very judiciously observes, that though regularity

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Fathers of the deserts, whose austere and perpetual fasts astonish and almost affright us, maintained a constant vigorous health, and prolonged their lives for a whole century, in warm climates* where the period of human life being accelerated in all its stages, is usually shorter than in more temperate, or in colder regions. S. Paul, the first hermit, lived 113 years, S. Anthony 105, S. Euthymius 95, the two SS. Macariuses, S. Paphnutius, S. Sabas, and Si John of Egypt, near 100 each;

in the time of meals, and great temperance in the (jaantity, and in the choice of plain simple food, are necessary rules for health, it is more advisable to use a reasonable latitude and variety, than to be restrained too rigorously to one kind, which may give a vicious prevalency to certain humours, or create so strung an habit in the constitution as can never allow the least deviation without imminent danger. In the Philosophical Transactions we have an instance of a clergyman in the chnrch of England, who, on account of an asthma, had for many years drank nothing but what was warm, bat by once drinking a cup of cold beer on a journey, died in a few hours. Boerhaave remarks, that the best food is mostly farinaceous, f. e. of mealy seeds, as wheat, rice, maize, <fec. of the best kinds, and well ripened, also panadoes made by boiling, or at least sopping bread in water, gruels, thin broths, <kc. Milk where it does not curdle into cheese upon the stomach, which often happens. In some parts of Ireland many who live in a manner entirely upon potatoes, so as seldom to taste even bread, are very robust and healthy ; but in the Indies, among those nations which never touch any animal food, those who live solely on rice are very thfti and weak, but health- ful, and have their feelings and their other senses much quicker than others, as Mr. Grose relates in his account of them. A difference of constitution often points out to men a particular choice of their more prevalent food without too servile a constraint ; but temperance is the first principle in all circumstances of Hfe. Water is the strongest digester, and the best vehicle, to our nourishment, being both the finest fluid, and the most powerful dissolvent in nature ; and it is the ordinary drink of the far greater part of the human race. Yet the little insects with which it abounds in Summer, may be sometimes pernicious, unless destroyed by the water having been boiled ; and its extreme fluidity is mortal to dropsical persons, whose fibres are relaxed; which inconveniences are best removed in our climate by weak small beer. Cesar found beer the beverage of the Briton* eighteen hundred years ago. Strong beer by its viscosity retards the circulation of the blood, <fec. Wine all agree is the most genial natural cor- dial, when nature stands in need of one ; but not properly a digester of onr food. The robust and valiant heroes of antiquity were water drinkers. It would be easy to prove all these points by the experience of all ages, and by the concurring testimonies of the most judicious and most experienced physicians and philosophers both ancient and modern. Dr. Cocchi, late famous physician at Florence in 1 taly, in his hook On the Regimen of Pythagora*, or the Pythagorean diet of Vegetables, ■hows that great philosopher to have laid down such precepts as he judged most conducive to maintain tranquillity of mind, and perfect health of body. Hence he eat only twice a day, as was then the general custom ; in the morning, when he only took a little piece of bread, and at supper, when he made a moderate meal, he allowed no beverage but water ; forbade in general animal food ; but he eat and advised others to eat, provided it was not too often, light meats, as pullets, kid, veal, pig, and fish ; he banished eggs ; also beans, which are windy, though farinacious, and which the priests of Jupiter and Ceres, both among the Greeks and Romans, were forbidden to touch, and which Aristotle universally condemns as way unwholesome ; probably more apt to give cholics, <fec. in those climates, than with us. Cocchi observes, that old aried beans or other seeds are very unwhole- some, unless in powder infused in broth or some other liquid. Most other vege- tables the Samian philosopher recommended; also honey and milk. Such an exact regimen is allowed by physicians to be preferable to all remedies, which it makes generally useless by preventing most distempers. That much animal food is pernicious to health is demonstrated by Plutarch de Valetudme . Macrobius, L vn, SatuxnaL c. 4, and other ancients.

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S. Arseni us, 120, S. John the Silent, 104, S. Theodosius the Abbot 105, James the Persian hermit, mentioned by Theodoret, 104, &c. Josephus tells us, that the Essenes were remarkable for living long, many to the age of 100 years, by the plainness and mo- deration of their diet, which was only bread and some kind of gruel or pap. The same we may observe of the ancient philosophers, De- mocritus, Hippocrates, &c. Those indeed who are employed in hard manual labour, require and easily digest more food than such as spend their life in study and meditation. Something more also must be allowed in cold than in hot climates. Young persons, and all who are of weak constitutions, ou^ht not to fast too long at a time ; but must be stinted to a small quantity and plain proper food, and without variety. This method, far from hurting their health, will maintain them vigorous in mind and body, prevent diseases, and often cure those which are alrealy contracted, and which obstinately defy all the power of the strongest medicines.a The spring is the most proper

» Of this we have an instance in Lewis Cornaro, a nobleman of Venice, a per- son of great abilities and learning. At thirty-five years of age he found himself reduced by intemperance to such a state of health, under a complication of di^ eases, and pains in h» stomach, and often in his sides, with a continual fever and thirst, that he died all manner of remedies, and consulted all the ablest physi- cians during the space of five years, without finding the least relief. At forty, when the physicians despaired of his life, he resolved to try what abstemiousness would effect. By experience he found the falsehood of that common proverb of gluttons : that whatever is savoury to the palate, “ is good, and nourishes." Far strong and cold wines, melons, raw lettuce, fish, pork, sausages, cake, pae-crust, and the like, pleased most his depraved appetite ; yet were most hurtful to kit constitution. These things therefore he shunned, and used only such as agreed best with his constitution, and in so moderate a quantity as always to leave off eating with an appetite. Thus he soon brought himself to take only twelve ounces of food in a day ; by which he was so perfectly freed from all his complaints in a manner which seemed to his physicians almost a miracle. By continuing this sober life he enjoyed a state of perfect vigour and health. Through extreme vexation which he sustained from some others, and a troublesome law-suit, at- tended with many most disagreeable circumstances, some of his friends were so overpowered by melancholy as to fall into diseases which cost them their lives ; but he who was the principal sufferer, felt no inconvenience in his health from these disasters, which he ascribes to the sound temperament of his body, free from those humours which melancholy or trouble could vitiate. When he wee seventy years old, by the overturning of his chariot, his head and whole body were much hurt, and one of his arms and legs put out of joint. The physicians declared that at his age he could not live three days, and were for purging and bleeding him. He would not allow either, alleging that his temperate manner of life made those remedies unnecessary ; but ordered his arm and leg to be set, and his whole body anointed with oil : and he perfectly recovered without any other remedy. So true did he find the two Italian proverbs: u he shall eat much who “ eats little at a time— Mangere pin, chi mancho mangia:" and “ The meat 46 which is left on the plate, profits more than that which is eaten— -Fa pin pen “ quel che si lascia mu’ ton do, che quel’ che simette nel ventre." Comoro in his 75th year suffered himself to be mo far overcome by the importunity of his friends on pretence of his old age, as to add two ounces to the quantity of his daily food, which he increased to fourteen ounces exactly, weighed of bread, eggs, or flesh and broth : and two ounces to his drink, which from fourteen he made sixteen. This addition made a great alteration in his constitution and health : in ten days though before cheerful and merry, he became melancholy, and troublesome It himself and others. On the 12th day he. was seized with a pain in his side, and two days after with a fever which held him thiity-flve days, and he was only

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Ch. III.]

season of the year for repairing all disorders of the body, the hu- mours being then more afloat, and the whole vegetable creation suffering some degree of an universal ferment. Fresh herbs, also, at

cored by abstemiousness ; after which he retnrned to his former role of twelve ounces of meat, and fourteen of drink. By this means he testifies in his 83rd year, that he lived always free from any trouble of mind or bodily pain. At that a£e he easily got on horseback without any advantage of the ground, went up high stairs and hills, was always cheerful and merry, enjoyed the conversation of witty and learned men, and read and studied much, living sometimes at Padua, #here he hhd a great and elegant house and gardens, and sometimes at some of bis country seats, employing his hours of amusement in architecture, painting, music, husbandry, draining marshy lands, erecting churches to God, and drawing men together to worship him in them. In his 83rd year he composed a spirited comedy, full of youthful fire and wit ; and, at the same time, wrote a treatise on • temperance, in which he gives this account of himself : He had then eleven grand* children all in perfect health, children of the some father and mother. He always slept well, retained his vigour, and intellectual faculties to the last, passed his old age without any complaint or sickness, till that of which he died at Padua in 1065, which was short, and seemed without pain. His death was so easy, and he received it with such cheerfulness, being upwards of an hundred years old, that it was truly a pleasant passage to immortality. (See Lewis Comoro's own book on Tempera*# ?, translated by Lessius into Latin — also the account given of him by Thnanas, Hist. 1. 38. Justiniani & Bembi Hist. Venet, &c.) His wife, wbo was no less aged than himself, survived him. F. Leonard Lessius, the learned Jesuit, bad been in bis youth abandoned by physicians in a decay, but bp imitating in some degree the temperance of Cornaro, and by the regularity of bis conventual life, re-established his health, and enjoyed great vigour of mind and body to the 69th year of his age, in which he died at Louvain in 1623. He wrote a book, “ On the right Way of preserving Health and Long Life,” in which he shows that temperance is the mother of health, prevents the inconveniences of overfulness of humours, and of a bad digestion, crudites and all distempers which flow from these causes, make bruises and outward accidents less dangerous to the body, mitigates incurable disorders, makes death easy, abates the passions, pre- serves the senses of the body entire, and much more the vigour of the understand- ing and memory, and is the ground and basis of virtue, as Caspian observes. (Cassian, l. 5. de Gastrimargia, c. 14 fe 17.) So that all the saints who have set about raising the tower of evangelical perfections, began by this virtue. (See Lessius, 1. de Valetndine tnenda. Alegamne de Scriptor. Soc. in Lessio.) Its practice is attended with difficulty in the beginning, in overcoming the habit of intemperance; but this being mastered, it is productive of much delight and incomparable advantages. Health is not only preserved by it, so as seldom to stand m need of a physician ; bat most distempers, especially those which rise from repletion, are cured by fasting, which is the most easy and natural means of disburdening nature, that she may be enabled to exert her powers in her own re- lief. For nature alone is able to repair her decays, and restore her functions : physic can only remove obstacles wnich impede the vigorous exertion of her powers in her cure. Usually a fast of one or two days has the full effect of a course of physic, and does its work in a much safer and more effectual manner. Many persons within the circle of my acquaintance, chiefly amongst those who led the most exactly regular lives in religious convents, have attained to a very ad- vanced old age. without having ever made use of any apothecary's drugs, or con- sulted any physician, having made it their rule, whenever they found themselves indisposed, to fast one, two, or three days, till they found their health re-established. If austerities have ever hurt anyone’s constitution, it must have been owing to an extreme excess, or to some particular circumstances, as unwholesome food, too sud- den a change in the manner of life, dampness, (always contrary to the good state of a human body) a neglect of precautions in passing suddenly from heat to cold, . fee. It is in the most austere regular institutes of religious men that we shall most frequently meet with persons blessed with a rigorous and sprightly old age. Such was the austerity practised by the ancient hermits of Egypt and Palestine.

144 lsnt, [Ta-V.

this season, furnish the most salutary juices. That the church has our corporal health in view as a secondary motive in the institution of Lent, appears from the collect in which she teaches us to pray, u That this solemn fast, which is wholesomely instituted to cure our “ souls and bodies, may he devoutly observed by us.*

CHAP. IV.

On the Manner of observing Lent,

Fasting days were proclaimed amongst the Jews in the same man- ner as great festivals, by the sound of a trumpet at the hour when they began. (Joel ii. 15, 16.) They observe them from the even- ing after sun-set till the same hour the next day, that is, till the rising of the stars. All this time they neither eat nor drink ; they also re-, frain from bathing, from perfumes, odours, and anointing, and from the use of marriage, continence being a part of their fast. And this is the idea which all the eastern nations, Christians and others, gene- rally have of fasting.b Some Jews think it lawful to eat tin the morning of the day on which they are to fast. At their meal in the evening of a fast, they may eat eggs, and certain herbs, but not all sorts, and no flesh meat, nor butter. Buxtorf mentions, that it is an axiom of the Jews on their great fasts, that whoever eats or drinks on this day, shall not be worthy to see the joy of Jerusalem : and whoever eats flesh or drinks wine, his iniquities shall be upon him. The same author testifies, that every one who fasts abstains from all meat and drink the whole day, till the stars appear in the evening. It is only by an indulgence that on lesser fasting-days, some, if apt to faint for thirst, put into their mouths a little liquorice, or some other root or spice ; but spit it out again without swallowing any, only it moistens

Some confined themselves to a small quantity* of fruits, herbs or pulse, others to bread alone. Abbott Moyses aftae having weighed the experience and circum- stances of these different rules, concludes that to be preferable which allowed per day to each monk, two biscuits or small cakes, which together made scarcely a pound weight of twelve ounces, without any sauce or other food ; their meal to be taken at noon, or about three o’clock ; but on fasting days after sun-set. See Cnssian, Inst. c. xix. 21, <fcc. That fasting is the most general'cnre of the most common and most fatal distempers, and that strict abstemiousness and temper- ance is the mother of health, and main support of long life, is proved by the ex- perience uf all ages and all nations, and confirmed by all physicians. See parti, cnlarly those who have wrote on diet: Junker, Arbuthnot. Hecquet, Lemery, and Lorry, Tr. star les Aliments. It is, however, to be carefully observed, that changes in the manner of a person’s living must be made gradually, and not on a sudden. For plentiful meals enlarge habitually the ventricle, which long habits of temperance contract, in which any great change made at once is very danger- ous. Neither is it prudent in those who have lived plentifully, and are exposed to deviate sometimes from their role, by living in the world, to coniine themselves totally to vegetables, or any one kind of diet, as Dr. Arbuthnot remarks against the rigorous prescriptions of Dr. Cheyne. a Or. in Missa & officio Sabbat! ante l Domin Quadragesimse. b See Calmet, Diet. Bibl. and Fleury, Mceurs des Israel, ch. xvi. Leo of Mo* dena, Carem. des Juifs, Part iii. ch. 8, Basnage, <fec. Sigonius, 1. de Rep. He- bneor. L iv. c. 18, and Nicolai’s Annot. ib. p. 416. Buxtorf s Synagog. Jq- daica, c. xxx. p. 57 1 and 576.

IEXT.

14 6

Ch. IV.l

the mouth, and some of the juice will descend without swallowing. Amongst the Samaritans, even infants at the breast, among the Jews children that are above seven years old, are obliged to fast as much as their strength will permit.* They sometimes throw ashes upon their heads, and go barefoot, but this is not of obligation. On fast days it was forbidden to work, and all the people met in the temple at Jeru- salem ; in other towns and villages, in some public place where they heard the law read, and exhortations to penance made to them by the ltabbins and Elders.b (Isa. lviii. 5 (Joel ii. 16) ; 3 Kings, xxi. 12.)

The fast of the Musselmans or Turks consists in neither eating, nor drinking, nor smoking the whole day from morning to the rising of the stars. They eat and drink as much as they please all night ; but are very temperate in that month, as Count Auger Guislin, of Boesbec or Busebec relates.0 They eat meat if they please at night ; but wine is more strictly forbidden at these times than at others. Some have been condemned to swallow melted lead for having vio- lated this law. Thirst is particularly troublesome to travellers and labourers ; but they must endure it. The ancient idolaters also meant, by fasting, an entire abstinence both from eating and drinking.

But the Christian fast is the subject of our inquiry and considera- tion. This consists of two parts. 1st, A forbearance of certain kinds of food, or a restraint in the choice and quality, or an abate- ment of food, which we usually call the abstinence . And, 2ndly, A forbearance of necessary food, which is called the fast. The virtue of abstinence, as a religious mortification in order to subdue and afflict the flesh in penance for sin, and for the improvement of the soul in virtue, is recommended by the example of the Rechabites and of the Nazarites in the old law, of St. John the Baptist, St. James the Less, St. Peter, St. Matthias, and the other disciples of Christ, and the whole Christian church at certain times. The primitive Christians in Lent broke their fast only after sun-set, and then usually only with herbs, roots, and bread. At least all were obliged to abstain not only from flesh meat, but also from fish, and whatever had life ;a also from whatever is derived from flesh, as eggs, milk, cheese, butter, &c.,e according to the ancient canon. Likewise from wine, which in the primitive ages was no less forbidden on all fasting days than the use of flesh meat itself. “ We fast, abstaining from “ the use of flesh and wine,” says St. Cyril of Jerusalem/ S. Basil repeats, almost in the same words : M We abstain from flesh and “ wine.8 Theophilus, Patriarch of Alexandria, says : We are “ taught by the example of Daniel, on fasting days to refrain from “ flesh meat and wine, to live on pulse, and drink only water.”h The

* Calmet, <fec.ib. b Fleory, Mceurs des Israelites, ch. xvi.

c Ep. 3, de Moribus Turcarum,j>. 154, and 1. de Torcaraxn C eeremonii*, p. 391. Chardin Voyage, dec. T. ii. and vii.

4 S. Chrys. hom. 3, ad Pop. Ant. n. 5, p. 42, T. ii. ed. Ben. See Thomassin, Flenrr, Dom. deL’Isle, Benedict XV.Instit 15, B. 150, T. i.de Quadrages, Ac.

« A Came Animalium abstinemus , ah omnibus quogue gust semeniinam oamit trahant Originem a lacto viz . casco, fyc.

f C a tech. 4. p. 65. * Hom. i. de Jejun. n. 5,

b 1. iii. Pnech. ap. S. Hieron. T. iv. p. 731.

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[Tb. V*

same is inculcated by St. Chrysostom,4 St. Gregory of Nyssa, or rather St. Asterius ;b and before all these, Hermas, who wrote soon after the Apostles.® Some mitigations were introduced in part of this abstinence in the sixth century, when in the west a little wine Was allowed to dilute the water in favour of weak stomachs, as ap- pears from the rule of St. Benedicts Fish was in the same age al- lowed, but not of the dearer and more dainty kinds.® White meats or Lacticinia are forbidden by the canons still in force in Italy, all Southern climates, and over all the East. S. Gregory the Great, writing to S. Augustine, Archbishop of Canterbury, gives him the law of this fast as observed over the whole church, to be the rule of the new planted church of England, in these words, which are in- serted in the body of the canon law: “ We abstain from flesh “ meat, and from all things which come from flesh, as milk, cheese, " and eggs.” In the great Oriental Council called Quinisexta , held in the imperial palace in Trullo, this law is repeated in the following terms : — “ It has seemed good that the whole church, spread over u all the world, observe this fast according to the same rule, abstain - “ ing from what can be slain, and in like manner from eggs and “ cheese.” Pope Alexander VII. condemns this proposition in 1666, (n. 32.) “ It is not evident that the custom of not eating eggs and

** white meats in Lent is of obligation.” St. Aquinas wrote in France/ u On all fasting days the use of flesh meat is forbidden. Ift u Lent also the eating of eggs and Lacticinia or white meats. As to u abstinence from white meats on other fasting days, the custom u varies in different places, wherein every one will conform to the u discipline of his own church where he lives.” In northern climates, where the season is often too backward to yield a sufficient quantity of sallads and pulse for Lent, milk was taken in Lent in North Bri- tain in the seventh century, as appears from the Life of St. Cuthbert, who followed the discipline of the Scottish church. In England and France, food made of milk began to be permitted by particular dis- pensations or commutations in the tenth century. For want of oil, butter began at length to be introduced in these parts, and within a century or two, cheese two or three days a-week. This indulgence was expressed in every bishop’s instruction and mandate for Lent down to the beginning of the present century. Many old religious persons were unwilling to make use of such indulgences. The king of France’s table to this day is served only with fruits and sallads on Good Friday, though some dishes are dressed up with much art in the shape of fishes. These dispensations were at first only commu- tations into some alms or other good works. One of the steeples in the cathedral at Rouen retains to this day the name of the Butter Tower,* because it was built by the pious contributions made to that

» 8. Chrys. hom. iv. ad Pop. Antioch, n. 6, and horn, iii.n. 6. T. n. <fec.

b Or. de Jejun. in Append, p. 303.

c Hermas. Pastor. 1. lit. Simil. 5 . d S. Bened. Reg. c. 40.

• S. Greg. M. quoted in Gratian’s Decree. Cap. Denivue Diet. iv.

t Secunda 2d « qu. 14 7, art. 8, ad 3. f Tour de Buerre.

IOTT.

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ch. nr.]

church as a permutation for leave to eat butter that Lent, which the Archbishop procured of Pope Innocent VIII. in 1489, for his dio* eese.® Butter, though unwholesome, is in some degree necessary in countries where it supplies the want of oil. The discipline of every church is the rule which all must follow in determining what is aL lowed by a just prescription of a legal immemorial custom allowed by the bishops ; but doubtful claims are to be reduced to the standard of the general law of the church with regard to this holy fast.

In the primitive ages, Christians used no other food on fasting days than herbs, pulse, roots, or fruit, with bread : some added a small quantity of little fishes ; but had nothing of this dressed nicely, or with much preparation. And what they eat was always so common and cheap as to occasion a great saving in the expenses of the table, all which was laid out in more abundant alms, as the fathers fre- quently recommend. Some allowed themselves no other food than what was eat raw, without any dressing by fire ; and this was called by the Greek name Homophagie:5 those who observed the most severe, and what was called the true fast, confined their meal to Xe- rophagie,0 that is, to dry food, such as nuts, almonds, and such likd fruits with bread : some took only bread and water. This last, ot at least the Xerophagie, all practised on the more solemn fasting days* 44 The strongest fast is bread and water,” says S. Jerom.d But thesg extraordinary austerities, though common, were left to the discretion of every one according to their strength, except on Good Friday and Holy Saturday. S. Jerom inveighs against those who on fasting days brought to their table dainty fruits.® 44 What advantage do you hope 44 to receive by refraining from the use of oil, whilst at the same time 44 you seek scarce and delicate fruits : Carian dried figs, pepper, fruii 44 of the palm-tree, (that is nice dates,) bread made of fine flour, Pis* 44 tache nuts ? The garden is racked and ransacked, to furnish 44 dan ties to the palate, which easily turn us out of the strait path 44 heaven. Plain usual bread ought to content him who fasts.” AH Christians then inured themselves to this severity in their fasts by & constant frugality and temperance, always eating little, and using only plain meats/ Clemens of Alexandria mentions, that on fasting days they neither eat nor drank the least thing, but at their meal after sun- set : on other days they took it at three in the afternoon, aud besides a breakfast, for which they took only a little dry bread without drinking. Many lived on pulse, fruits, and white meats.* It is true* that though the luxury of the table was carried to a great extra- vagance amongst the later Greeks and Romans, as appears from Athenseus, Horace, and his commentators, &c.,h yet abstemiousness was still in great request, and the philosophers, and all virtuous and

• See on this Dispensation, Memoires de Trevoux, An. 1741. p. 780.

fc wpotpayia from wuog crudes, raw, ipaytiv to eat. c Ztjpofr Dry.

d Ep. 34. ad Nepotian. T. iv. p. 364. e Ibid.

f See Clem. Alex. Pcedag. 1. ii. c. 1. p. 169. Fleury, Mceurs des Chref.

* Prudent. Hymn, ante Cibnm.

k See Mnersins, 1. de Lnxa Romanorum, c. 13, 14, 6. Stacking, Antiqnit* Convivial, 6c.

14ff

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[T*. V-

wise men imitated the simplicity and plainness of the diet of former ages. The abstinence of the Pythagorean philosophers was held in great admiration, as appears from the example of Apollonius of Thyana, and the writings of Porphyry. Horace himself, though an abandoned Epicurean, made herbs and pulse his ordinary fare/ Augustus, though Emperor of the world, lived mostly on coarse family bread, cheese, figs, dates, grapes, and small fishes, and made but one meal a day, which was supper ; for his dinner was only a little piece of bread, with an apple or some such thing. At supper, he never had more than three dishes; eat very sparingly, and never drank above thrice, and never exceeded a sextarius of wine, not a pint and a half.b Thus he lived 77 years, reigned 56. The Emperor Aurelian, by his temperate manner of living, and by fasting one entire day every month, lived 55 years, without ever taking physic or being let blood. Even the gluttons of that luxurious age made properly but one full meal a day. Plato upon his return from Sicily, mentioned as the most wonderful prodigy he had met with, that he had seen a monster full fed twice a day ; meaning Dionysius the tyrant. The Emperor Vitellius was execrable to the whole world, because he made three, and sometimes four meals a day«c We see therefore, that notwithstanding the height to which luxury was ar- rived among the later Greeks and Romans, when riches had corrupted their minds, as had before happened to the degenerate Persians, though sons of the most abstemious ancestors ; yet even the Epi- cureans themselves had not multiplied their meals as is now become customary, and strict abstemiousness was kept in countenance among the philosophers, and many others, upon principles of virtue and health. The Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, and Romans, are glaring instances that a total enervation and corruption of the heart, and the deluge of all, both public and private vices, naturally flow from luxury and intemperance, and that without strict temperance and simplicity of manners, no foundation of true virtue can be laid. And ex- perience, reason, and the innate principles of moral virtue, led the very Pagans to admire in this as in all other points the doctrine and

* Horat. 1. i. Sat. 6. 1. i. ep. 6. b Sueton. in August

c In Homer, Athenaens, ( 1. i. ) JEschylus, <fec. mention is made of three times of taking refreshment morning, noon, and night called breakfast, dinner, and supper. Bnt Athenaens (1. xxv.) and Freith, observe that it was not the custom in Homer’s time, for the same person both to breakfast and dine, and that both breakfast and dinner was no more than a very light refreshment not a meal, consisting in the morning of a little bread dipped in wine; as is mentioned by Plutarcb, (Sympos. 1. viii. ) or at noon for a dinner of olives, honey, or some such light thing, as Galen testifies, (De fuenda Valetudine, 1. vi.) Whence Pliny the Younger says, his uncle made a short and light dinner according to the custom of our ancestors, so that it scarcely interrupted his studies. ( 1. iii. ep. 6. ) Plutarch mentions that the Romans dined alone very abstemiously, bnt supped plentifully with their friends. ( Sympos. 1. viii.) On which account the Latin name of supper signified the common meal, as S. Isidore observes, (Orig. 1. xx. c. 2.) and ban- quet* and supper s were synonymous terms, or at least banquets were only made at suppers after sunset, amongst the Jews, Greeks, and Romans. Cicero says, it was a thing universally disapproved for a person to make two fall meals a day, Non placet bis in die saturum fieri ; (Tusculan. 1. v. c. 35. X. viii. p. 2832.) See the learned Freith of Strasburgh, Antiquit. Homeric*, 1. iii. c. 3. p. 285.

LENT.

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practice of the first Christians. Their perpetual temperance prepared them for the severe abstinence they kept in Lent and on other fasting days.

A second part of this duty and precept is the fast itself, which is a retrenching of ordinary meals, and forbearance of all food for a time: it essentially requires that a person confine himself to one temperate meal in the day. The hour of taking it was anciently after sun-set.a Whence the Fathers reproached the slothful and lukewarm Christians, that they seemed to think the days were too long, and the sun-set too late in Lent.b This discipline was observed not only in Lent, but also on Ember days, vigils,6 and other fasting days, except the weekly fasts of Wednesdays and Fridays, on which the meal was taken at noon, or three o’clock in the afternoon. On which account they were distinguished by the name of the fast9 of the stations, and demi-feasts.d It is clear from the writings of Car- dinal Robert Pulleyn, (an English theologian who wrote hi9 chief works at Paris,) and those of Peter Abelard, of St. Bernard, and of Peter of Blois, the learned Archdeacon of Bath, that this was the rule 6f fasting in Lent, in the twelfth century ; and that it was ob- served in the church without mitigation, during the space of twelve hundred years. Hence St. Bernard said to his monks, in the begin- ning of Lent : “ Hitherto we have fasted alone till the hour of noon : “ now all will fast with us till evening : kings and princes, clergy and “ people, nobility and plebians, rich and poor in tne same manner.”* Some, however, had begun in the ninth century, to anticipate the hour of the meal on fasting days, and to take it at noon, or three o’clock, which was condemned by Theodulph, Bishop of Orleans, and other zealous pastorsf as an abuse ; but in the following century this mitigation was allowed by Ratherius, Bishop of Verona,* and in the Council of Rouen in J072. The thirteenth century, the hour of noon, or three o’clock, is determined by all the pastors of the church and doctors of the schools, for the time on which it was lawful for those who fast to take their meal. This is the rule laid down by the celebrated Alexander of Hales, h and St. Thomas Aquinas1 soon after.

* Tert. de Jejun. c. x. p. 649. S. Basil, hom. 1. de Jejun. n. 10. S. Ambr. in Ps. cxviii. Serna, viii. n. 48. T. i. p. 1073. S. Chrys. hom. 8. in c. 1. Gen. n. 6. T. iv. p. 63. S. Panlin. ep. 15. ad Amand. n. 4. p. 87. and Poemat. 20, 21, 22. p. 93. S. Isadore in Micrologo, c. 49. T. xviii. Bibl. Patr. even down to the l2tn century. Card. Robert Pullus or Pulleyn, (Anno 1144.) Sent, part viii. c. 9. p. 263. and his cotemporary S. Bernard. Serin, iii. de Quadrag. n. 1. T. i. p. 819. Abelard ep. ad Heloissam, p. 166. Peter of Blois (who died in 1200) Serm. ii.

* S. Greg. Nyss. seu potius S. Asterius Orat. in princip. Jejun. in Append,

p. 263 and sequ. c S. Paulin. Poem. 20. T. ii. p. 93.

d Semijtftoiia, Tert. 1. de Jejun, c. iii. <fcc.

* Hactenus usque ad Nonam jejunavitnus ; Nunc usque ad vcsperam Jepenabvnt vniversi , Reges 4* Principes , C ter us fy Poputns , nobiles fy tgnobiles , shnut in unutn Dives 8f Pauper . S. Bern. Serm. iii. de Quadrag. n. 17. p. 819. S. Bernard died in 1 153. See the same attested by Peter Blois, who died in 1200.

f Theodulph. Aurel. Capital. 39 and 40. T. vii. Cone. p. 1146. See also Cap. Solent, de Consecrat. dist. 7.

f Rather. Serm. i. in Quadrages. n. vi. T. ii. Spiciteg. p. 283. h Alex. Halens. p. iv. qu. 28, art. 2. 1 S ,Tho% 2, secundtt qu, 41, art. f.

1*0

Iran*.

[Tfc. V.

The step stented to tome of no great importance to raise the hour of meal still higher, provided it was made after noon, and no other refreshment was taken in the four-and-twenty hours of that day and tiight. Richard Middleton, an English Franciscan theologian, pro- nounces that it is a breach of the fast to take the meal soon after noon or mid-day, and he inveighs severely against those who have not courage and resolution to keep up to the custom of not eating oefore three of the clock.* Durandus, Bishop of Meaux, in 1 330 r and in the following century, St. Antoninus* testify that in their time It was allowed by custom, authorised by the chief pastors, to dine on jfcgfiog days any time after the hour of noon,d which soon became any hour about noon. Durandus observes that when the hour of the Meal on fisting days in Lent was anticipated, the clergy anticipated the recital of vespers, which they still said before dinner, thinking thus to observe the canon, Solent, which is only extracted from the 39th Capitular of Theodulph, Bishop of Orleans, which regulated the hour of breaking the fast in the evening, or after vespers. As a memorial of the ancient discipline, this is still observed in Lent, and is of precept, as to the public recital of the divine office in the choir ; but for those who recite vespers in private, a rubric, or rule, rather directing what is most perfect, and according to the spirit of the church, than of strict precept. So 6trictly is it the essence of fasting to take no more than one meal on fasting days, that Jews, Mussul- mans, and Pagans, have always looked upon the least refreshment, even a drop of pure water taken at any other time of the day, as contrary to the fast. And this was the most ancient Christian dis- cipline, as the fathers, and every kind of ecclesiastical monuments

m Richard Media Villa, in 4 dist. 15 art. in. qu. 8. T. ii. p. 211.

b Durandus a S. Porciano, in 4 dist. 15 quaest. 9. art. 7.

* S. Antoninus, 2 part. Tit. v. de Jeiun. $ 10.

d An anonymous Monk of St. Gall, author of the life of Charlemagne, pub- lished by Dncheoe, Caniaos, and most accurately by Hanniue, librarian at Hanover in 1726 : relates, that the Emperor was obliged to dine in Lent before the hour of vespers, that his officers and attendants might have time for their several dinners after him, which they could not have otherwise done before mid- night. The Emperor therefore heard Mass sung, which in Lent was begun in his palace at two o’clock, and immediately after it vespers ; after which he went to dinner. A certain Bishop who came to court, found fault with this anticipa- tion of the hour of his meal. Charlemagne alleged the necessity, and finding the prelate not satisfied, gave orders that he should sit at the time, when the last table was served for his officers. And said to him the next day: “You “ see that it was not out of intemperance, but necessary precaution, that I go to 44 table before sun-set.” (See Carol. Magni Vita, 1. ii. c. 9. p. 643. ed. Han.) This precedent, however, is supposed to have given the first occasion to the anticipation of the meal on fasting days. Many at first, doubtless, sinned by introducing this and other mitigations, without necessity or authority : but when the custom became legal, and wns authorised by the positive connivance, or toleration of all the chief pastors of the church, it was a derogation from the primitive law. Hence the theologians who first allowed it, allege the legal custom, and authorised discipline of such churches as had admitted it, not the pretence of any general necessity, or any other false plea. They do not there- fore seem to deserve the harsh censure, which Thomassin and Baillet pass upon them, if the custom was then such as they took it to he, legal and authorised.

MW.

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proclaim. We leant from St. Jerom,* that the ancient monks of Egypt and Palestine never eat twice a day ; but in the Paschal time, till after Whitsuntide, when they were allowed to take their meal at noon, which was called not to fast. St. Benedict in the West, allows the Monks to dine after Pentecost, but makes no mention of supper at that time, hut only before Whitsuntide, during the Paschal time.b Whence many think he allowed no supper, ex- cept a small refreshment during the Paschal time. The author of the Rule of the Master , soon after St. Bennet, permits them to drink twiee in the evening, when they took their meal at noon.c St* Fructuosus of Braga in his Monastic Rule, expressly says, that from Easter to Whitsuntide, the Monks shall dine at noon, hut be content with one meal a day.d The Monks of Fulda in Germany never 9upped during the whole year, down so low as in the 12th ceutury9 as Mabillon shows.6 St. Isidore of Seville, whom Flores demonstrates to have been the author of the Micrologusy pronounces that no one keeps the fast of Lent, who takes a refreshment before evening/

A relaxation of this severity was first introduced in the monastie fasts, which were not commanded by the church, and were kept almost the whole year. In St. Benedict’s time, his monks took their meal at sext or noon, when they did not fast ; at noon, or three in the afternoon, on fasts of the rule ; after sun-set, on fasting days of precept in the church. The holy founder allowed each monk an Hemina of wine,* each day to be drank with water ; part they reserved for evening, when it was not a fasting day.h He even allows the su- perior to give leave to take something more if necessary. The din- ner of the monks was two messes of vegetables ; and their supper a little bread when it was no fast. Hence it became a custom in this order to give the monks leave to drink a moderate draught out of the portion they had reserved from dinner, in the afternoon after their work, especially when the weather was hot. St. Benedict died in 643 : it appears by the rule of the Master , which was the first eonfe ment we have on St. Benedict’s rule, drawn up about 140 years after the death of that holy patriarch, that it was then allowed for the monks when they had dined at noon or three of the clock, to drink some wine and water when they assembled before Complin after work, and this refreshment was preceded and followed by a prayer : but this was only on fasting days of the rule, and in the summer months. This indulgence which was thus granted for the fasts of the rule, wag afterward extended to those of the church, which was first authorised in the general chapter or great assembly of Benedictin abbots held at Aix-la- Chapelle, by order of the Emperor Lewis the Debonnair, in

* S. Hier. ep. 18. ad Eustoch, T. iv. p. 44. <fe sequ.

k See Dom. de L’Isle, Hist du Jeune, i iv. ch. iv. 6. p. 285. k c Reg. Magistri, c. xxvii. d S. Fructuos. Reg. c. xvii.

I e M a bill. Tr. in Saec. 3 Ben. 2. p. 16. f Microl. c. xlix. T. xviii. Bibl. Patr. p. 487.

» An hemina was a liquid measure, which some antiquaries took for the fourth part of a pint : others more probably for a pint and a half, or eighteen ounces ; as it is denned by an ancient writer, quoted by Mabillon, Praef. in T. v. Vit. S3, ord. S. Boned, n. 168. See Ceiller, Mege, and especially Calmet, Comm, in reg, S. Ben. c. 40, h S. Boned. Reg. o. xl.

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817 5* but only when it was necessary after hard labour, or singing of longer offices in the church than usual. The decree is couched in the ^following words : “ If necessity shall require it, on account of hard “ labour, after the meal taken in the evening, even in Lent, before “ Complin, on days when the office of the dead is celebrated, they “ are allowed to drink.”6 A lecture out of the conferences of Cassian was made to the monks, when they assembled before Complin, c and any other pious lecture or exhortation made in common, was called a conference. The wine and water were distributed in cups, after the blessing of the superior, at the end of the lecture, or in some places whilst it was read.d Hence the name of Collation was given to this little refection.' The custom was at the same time adopted by the laity on fasting-days of obligation, and being tolerated and authorised by the pastors of the church, became a legal mitigation of the precept of the fast/ The collation, however, for some ages was confined to a draught of drink, and this at first only upon some degree of necessity, as after some extraordinary fatigue or labour. It was only in the 15th century that some began to take a morsel of bread with this draught for collation, lest drinking without eating any thing might be pernicious to health, s this being a principle which some physicians advanced. Soon after the canonists and divines, abandoning this reason, pro- duced for the grounds of this allowance, the general necessity of taking some little refreshment or nourishment in the evening, when the meal was anticipated so long before. Baillet blames those theolo- gians, who by this decision introduced a relaxation of the ancient law of fasting : but he ought first to have shown those divines to have been the first authors of this innovation. On the contrary, it appears that they found it already established and authorised by the general custom of the most religious amongst the faithful, and the connivance of the chief pastors, by whom the laws of ecclesiastical discipline are framed or interpreted. And though no particular bishop can abolish a law made by the superior authority of the universal, or even a na- tional church, it belongs to Bishops to determine for their own dioceses such points of discipline as are undetermined by superior authority ; also to give a sanction to customs legally prescribed, and

• Conventus Aquisgran. c. xii. Con. T. vii. p. 1508.

b Si neceseitas proposcerit ob Operit laborem , post rcfectionem Fespertinam, atm et in Quadragesimd pari modo , quando Oj&num Mortuorum celebraiur , prius-

fuam lectio Completori legal ur , bibent . Conventus Jquisgr. c. 12. T. vii. cone.

р. 1508. c S. Bened. Reg. c. xlii.

d Bernard. Clnniac. in Ord. Clnn. part. i. c. 27. p. 209. and c. 74. p. 269. Marten ne, de Ritibus Eccles. c. xi.n. 11 . p. 109. Udalric,l. i. Consnetnd. Clnniac.

с. 41. Usus Cisterciens. Ordin. c. 81. p. 179. Regul. in Clarior. c. 16. Abelard Reg. ad Eloisam, p. 165.

e See Dom Joseph de L’Isle, Hist, dn Jeune, 1. iv. c. 2. p. 306. Thomas. Tr. dn Jenne. Claude de Vert, Cerem. de l’Eglise, T. ii. p. 110. Catech. de Mont- pellier on the 5th precept of the church, ch. 6. sur les Jeunes. The Statutes of the Norbertins, Bibliotheca Pramonstr. 1. iv. c. 12. de Collat. p. 793.

f S. Antoninus 2 pars. Sum. Theol. Tit vi. c. 2. v. 9. Pontas V. Jeune Cas. 17 and 18. t

% Alphonsus Tostatus, Bishop of Avila, (who assisted at the Council of Basil in H34, and died in 1454,) in c. vi. Matt, qu, 169, 170, T. ix. Op. p. 169.

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which it appears just and rational, and for the greater good of the community to authorise, and no superior authority intervenes or is trespassed upon. If those who first introduced such a relaxation, availed themselves of frivolous reasons or pretences of necessity, which were barely imaginary, they can no way be excused from a transgression, which in such cases is so much more grievous, as it carries with it the baneful influence of scandal, and opens a door to numberless transgressions in others ; by which, at length, a salutary law of sacred discipline is undermined. The allowance for collation on fasting-days was insensibly enlarged : but it must always be re- membered, that though it is a little refreshment of the body after the fatigues of the day, it is not to be made a meal, or an indulgence of luxury and sensuality. As to the quality of things allowed for colla- tion, this, for a long time consisted only of a little dry bread, or a few dried fruits, without any preparation or dressing ; and they are most to be commended who study to come nearest this rule. How- ever, by general custom a greater latitude is allowed in different countries.* In many parts of the Low Countries, even butter, in a small quantity , is tolerated ; also a little tart or fruit-pie. In certain dioceses in France, though butter is forbidden, a very small slice of cheese is allowed to give a relish to the bread. At Naples, and in some other places, a very little quantity of small fishes is, or at least of cold fish is taken without scruple, though butter and cheese are on no account allowed even at dinner : in some places, little heed is given to the quality of the food at collation, provided it be strictly fasting- day diet, and in a very small quantity. The allowance of one country is not to be extended to another ; nor can a Bishop infringe a law of the universal church, but by a general dispensation or derogation in cases of real necessity, or by declaring a law duly established by legal custom or proper authority, where he finds it such. In doubt- ful points, what comes nearest the primitive discipline of fasting ought to be maintained, if compatible with other circumstances. And especially pastors ought to be particularly watchful to guard against every farther enervation of the holy, universal, and primitive law of

* The ancient Egyptian Monks fasted all the year, except on Sunday, and in the Paschal time. On days when they did not fast, their allowance was the same as on fasting days, viz., 12 ounces or a pound of bread, as Cassias informs ns ; bat they divided it, 'and took half at three o'clock, with water for their drink. S. Bennet in the West declares, that he fell short of the ancient aus- terity of the monastic stAte, in allowing two dishes of pulse at the daily meal besides bread, though he forbad flesh meat, except for the sick in the infirmary. He also allowed wine, which the ancient Monks did not generally allow them- selves. Above a century after his death, the custom was introduced among his monks on fasting days of the rule, to take a draught of water, or of part of their portion of drink which they had saved at their meal. This they did at their meeting at their spiritual lecture or conference, before Complin ; and it was first called the Bibere , when a morsel of bread was afterword granted with this draught; it was not done without asking every day leave, which custom still continues in some places. In the abbey of St. Victor at Paris of regular canons, be that waits, goes np to the superior, and kneeling says to him before collation : Detur , si ptacety fratibus tantisper panis ne nooeat pot us. And the superior answers Detur , See Macquer. Hist. Eccl. Remqrjuci *nr le 14 Siecle% T. ii. p. 192.

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the Lenten fast. The greatest relaxations in discipline take their rise from small, and often insensible liberties ; though nothing can be small which opens so fatal a gap. A true spirit of religion and pen- ance, will always lean to the safer side.

The quantity allowed at a collation is not to be carried beyond the just bounds, lest it become a supper or a meal. Some divines restrain it to two, others to four, or six ounces ; those seem to speak most rationally, who say it ought not to exceed a quarter of an ordinary supper or full meal, or thereabouts. S. Charles Borromseo, who never allowed himself any collation, made the following rule for his own family. “ In Lent, except on Sundays, no one must eat more “ than once in the day, and that after mid-day. If any one finds “ he wants some other refreshment, he may be allowed to take in the “ evening an ounce and a half of bread and a cup of wine.”*

In some places, a small collation is taken also in the Dooming, though less than that of the evening ; but this, in many parts, even in the West, is by no means allowed. Upon the principle that chocolate is mere drink, Cardinal Brancaccio wrote at Borne to main- tain that it may be taken for a morning collation on fasting days, provided it be made thin, such as is given as a drink to slaves in America, which Cardinal Cozza afterward maintained. This many others condemn, alleging that chocolate is very nourishing and filling. Doctor Stabe doubts not to assure us, that one ounce of the cocoa- nut is more nourishing to the human body, than a pound of beef. Its effects are not the same in all constitutions. But this we must allow, that it is to be wished that the use of chocolate was not intro- duced ; and where it is used, it ought to be taken thin, or in a very small quantity, otherwise the fast may seem to degenerate into a law of bare abstinence.5 Cardinal Lambertini observes, that Cozza Brancaccio and others who allow chocolate in the morning, require that it should not be made too thick, nor be taken oftener in the day, or in a large quantity.

S. Thomas Aquinas teaches that electuaries, or drugs which are taken out of meals to promote digestion, though they nourish in some small degree, are not forbidden by the law of the fast, provided they are not taken in a considerable quantity.0 But if even at different times they amount to a large quantity in the whole day, they would be a grievous transgression of the precept of the fast: To persons that are weak or of an advanced age, such things may be more easily allowed.

It is undoubted, that anciently to drink on fasting-days was no less forbidden than to eat, only in the refection after sun-set. The Jews, and the very Pagans, as appears by the example of the Ninevites, had no other idea of fasting .d Nor have the Mussulmans to this day,

• Act Mediolan. Eccl. part v. Inslit. Reg . de Discipl. familiar . p. 712.

t> See Antoine, Berti at Rome, Card. Lambertini Instit. lb. T. i. Gonzales in Spain.

c S. Tho. 2. seconds qu. 147. art. vi. ad. 3. also Gerson Regal. Moral, c. xcvii. T. iii. p. 94.

d See Jonas iii. 7. Esdr. x. 6. Mat xi. 18. See Calmet, Diet Bibb v. Jams. Pom de L’lsle, Hist da Jenne, L iv. c. 3. X. iii. p. 320.

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154

whether Turks, Simeons, Persians, or Indians. Wine was not al- lowed in the primitive ages of Christianity, even at the meal on fasting-days, but only water,* as Adam used in Paradise in the state of innocence, according to the remark of St. Basil.b It was a general rule among the ancient monks in the East, usually to drink only water ; and even in this St. Anthony prescribed great temperance,0 and after his example other holy abbots/1 To drink even water out of the only meal that was allowed, was esteemed a degree of the breach of the fast. St. Fructuosus, the holy bishop of Tarragon in Spain, in the persecution of Valerian in 259, being led to martyrdom on a Friday at ten o’clock in the morning, refused to drink, because it was not the hour to break the fast of the day, though fatigued with imprisonment, aud standing in need of strength to sustain the conflict of his last agony. “ It is a fast,” said he : “I refuse to drink ; it is “not yet the. ninth hour; death itself shall not oblige me to abridge “my fast.”6 In the lives of the fathers of the desert, Rutin relates, that on a fast of the rule, the abbot Sylvanus with his disciple Za- chary calling at another monastery, took some refreshment which was offered them, as was allowed among the monks by the laws of hospi- tality when abroad. As they were afterwards travelling, the disciple seeing some water, was going to drink, but the abbot hindered him, saying: “ It is a fast to-day.” Zachary replied: “ But have we not “ already eat something ?” The abbot answered : “ That we did by “ the law of charity ; but let us still keep the rule of our fast.”f Even the first allowance of a collation* which consisted only of a draught of drink, shows it was not allowed before to drink at all on fasting-days before the hour of the meal. This law was universally observed long after the collation was introduced ; and is still in force in 6ome dioceses in France, &c. The Mahometans, though immersed in sensuality, and vice, keep up this essential law in their fasts, which consist in neither eating, nor drinking, nor smoking the whole day, from morning to the rising of the stars in the evening. When their monthly fast of Ramadan falls in Summer, this thirst is very trouble- some, especially to travellers and labourers. But they must endure it, no one being excused from fasting, neither women, soldiers, tra- vellers, labourers, nor artificers ; neither rich nor poor : the Sultan fasts as well as others.8

The plea that liquids only moisten, and do not no^ish, is founded

• S. Basil. Horn. 1. de Jejun. n. 5. T. ii. p. 4. S. Greg. Nyw. sea potius, S. Asto- ria* Or. in princ. jejun. in Append, p. 254. S. Ambros. 1. de Jejun. & Elia, c. 9. n. 32. T. L p. 544. S. Cbry*. Horn. 4. ad. Pop. Ant. n. 6. T. vi. p. 58.<fe Horn. vi. n. 6. p. 83. S. Hier. ep. 34. ad Nepotian. T. iv. p. 364. S. Aug. 1. xxx. contra Faust. c. 4 <fe 5. T. viii. p. 44C, <fcc. Apud de L’Isle, Nat. Alex. <fec.

• S. Bas. loc. cit.

c S. Anton, in Monitis S. Paulo Simplici apud Evagr. 1. ii. c. 30. p. 463.

d Evagr. ap. Rosw. de vitis patr. 1. ii. c. 27. p. 479. Rufin. c. lxvi. <fc cxvi. Caa- aiau. Coll. xii. c. 11. p. 585. Coll. 13. c. 6. p. 591, &c.

• Ap. S. Prudent. Hymn. vi. p. 188.

r Evagr. 1. iii. c. 46. p. 608. ap. Rosw.

t Herbelot, Bibl. Orient, p. 708. Tournefort Voyage, b ii. p. 342. Lucus, Voy- age d’Egypte, T. i

156

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in ignorance of natural philosophy. No one can certainly pretend it true, at least of compound liquors, nor of all such as are simple. Wine, for example, is the extract of a very juicy fruit ; and some sorts, Galen says, are as nourishing as hogVflesh, which is a kind of food the fullest of gravy.* Even water indirectly contributes to nourishment by helping digestion, and it is the strongest dissolver and digester in nature ; and it refreshes and pleases. It is not therefore, on this pretence, that liquids can be compatible with fasting, though the persuasion of such a plea may have had some influence in pro- moting a custom, which if duly established by prescription, and au- thorised by the chief pastors, will derogate from the primitive law on this point. How far this takes place, must be impartially inquired into by the long and general practice of the most religious and timorous Christians, and the decision of the pastors in each country. But it must no where be allowed to drink thus any considerable quantity ; and an acquaintance with the spirit of the cnurch, and an holy zeal in supporting the interests of truth and the rules of ancient discipline, would strongly engage us by our example, to endeavour in some degree to stem, or at least set bounds to the torrent of relax- ation, which threatens so great a desolation. Even a concern for our own spiritual interest in the most important affair of our sanctification, especially a sincere spirit of penance, were we truly animated with it, would inspire us with an earnest desire of making the sacrifice of our fast entire. Shall we by failing in any circumstance, rob God of the honour we pretend to give him, and destroy, or at least, abate and depreciate the merit of our offering ?

Anciently, the ecclesiastical law of fasting did not except children that were ten years of age, as Cardinal Humbert testifies. The sta- tutes of the church of Challon5 declare, all who have passed the 18th year of their age, to be bound to keep the fasting days commanded by the church, and those under that age who should seem to the priests able. And this is the maxim laid down by Alexander of Hales, c and others among the first scholastic divines. But as youth, whilst in a state of growing, stand in need generally of taking nou- rishment more frequently in the day, the church thought proper af- terward not to lay any under the obligation of this law, till they have completed thrice seven years, or the twenty-first year of their age, as S. Thomas Aquinas, d and with him all pastors and divines teach. S. Thomas, however, adds, that those that are younger, must begin to exercise themselves in fasting more or less according to their age and strength. Collet and others observe, that persons much under that age are usually bound by the law of nature sometimes to fast, this being, with others, a means to obtain the divine grace for subdu- ing the passions, which, if not restrained at that age, become most unruly. Whence S. Basil says : “ Boys, like green plants, are “ watered with the dew of fasting.1’6 Some persons have imagined that old age exempts all persons from the obligation of the ecclesias-

* See Calmet <fe de L’Isle loc. cit. b Apud Martenne Anecdot. T. iv. p. 775.

c Alex. Halens. 4ta parte, qu. 28, T. iv. p. 275. d S. Tho. ib, art. 4.

• S. Basil, Or. 2.

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deal law of fasting, who have completed the sixtieth year. But this is certainly a mistake : no such decree was ever made. On the con- trary, S. Thomas Aquinas, and the most judicious and learned theo- logians, down to our time, declare that only sickness and weakness of constitution in old age, can be a just plea for a dispensation. Doctor Navarr, a very learned and eminent canonist, having confirmed this decision, says: “ Now in the eightieth year of my age, I fast as “ easily as 1 did in my sixtieth or even fiftieth.”*

Dispensations, by which persons are disengaged and set free from the obligation of this law, are sometimes necessary. For these three general reasons are assigned : 1. Incapacity, as in children, and per- sons very sick. 2. Necessity, as hard labour. 3. Some greater good, as assiduous attendance on the sick, much preaching, &c. S. Gregory the Great, being informed that Marinian, archbishop of Ravenna, was seized with a vomiting of blood, wrote to him,b “ 1 not “ only exhort, but I expressly forbid you to fast ; physicians declar- “ ing that fasting is very contrary to your disorder. I only allow you “ to fast five days in the year, on the principal solemnities.” In ano- ther letter he allows him to fast one or two days a-week, his health being something better.c For the dispensation, recourse, if it can be done, especially where the necessity is not evident, is to be had to the proper pastor of the church, who has jurisdiction and authority to grant it ; and sometimes the judgment of a conscientious physician is necessary or advisable. Every slight disorder or corporal uneasi- ness, or little pain, is not a just reason. For such cases, fasting is often the best cure. At least, mortification being the very end of fasting, some such inconvenience is often its natural effect ; little headaches, pains in the stomach, or such like complaints, often arising from too long a disuse of fasting, and a change of the manner of liv- ing ; or from vapours, or a prior habit or repletion.d Where there is a real necessity, often a partial indulgence is sufficient. He who lies under a necessity of using broth, may, perhaps, still abstain from flesh meat ; or he who eats flesh, may be still able to fast, or take only one meal in the day, &c. The necessity of dispensing with ab- stinence, at least for the use of flesh meat, is certainly much rarer than many seem to imagine. It is often the best physic, and the safest means of restoring health. In most distempers, and in con- valescents, stuffing is most to be feared, not wholesome abstinence.6

* Net. Manual, c. 21, n. 16.

b 8. Gr. M. 1. xi. ep. 33, ed. nov. c lb. ep. 40.

<* In the Greek church no sickness is looked upon as a sufficient reason for a dispensation to eat flesh in Lent. “ Non permititor cuicjuam, etiamsi extremum “ agat Spiritum, in magn& Quadragesima carnibu* vesci : Vidimus enim hoc di- “ rersis temporibus Sy nodice petitum esse, and non esse Concessum,” says Bal- samon, quoted by Thomassin, De vet fy nova Eeclet. die. pars.1. l,ii. c. 83, n. 15. In the Western church, dispensations are allowed when judged necessary in sick- ness, as practice shows, ana is declared in the 8th Council of Toledo, (cap. 9,) and by Innocent III. in cap. Consilium de Observ . Jejuniorum.

« See Hecquet, Traite de Dispense s dn Car erne, Paul Zacchias, first physician at Rome under Innocent X. 1. v. tit. 5. q. 5. no. 3. p. 280. in Quaest. Medico- legalibus, 1. 6. tit, 1. In multis , 9.

unr.

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Under tha title of hard labour, we are not to comprise barbers, tai- lors, jewellers, writers, composers of types in a printing office, &c. ; but such only with whose work fasting is incompatible, in which great regard is to be had to the strength or weakness of their constitution, and their manner of living. This in some poor countrymen is a per- petual Lent, as Collet remarks ; also in all those whose poverty does not afford them means of procuring themselves one competent meal in the day. By hard labour, which excuses from fasting, though not from abstinence, is understood that of countrymen, stone-cutters, porters, coachmen, &c., also soldiers in camp, or exposed to daily occasions of fighting ; travellers on foot, twelve or fifteen miles a day, says Collet ; but not in a coach, or on horseback, unless the journey be long, or the horse or vehicle, as a waggon, be by their rough motion very fatiguing. The work or journey ought to be, in some degree necessary, not barely for recreation, or what could be conve- niently deferred to some other day*

Attendance on the sick night and day, preaching long, or often in the dajr, &c. may also excuse from fasting.

In this law of the universal church, by the concession of the church, the bishop can grant a general dispensation to his diocese in case of k public necessity, and the curate of a parish to particular persons lft his parish. In England, in our present situation, every confessor only to his own penitents. If the cause be frivolous and such as cannot be reasonably judged competent, the dispensation is here not only sinful but also null, not only by the general rule, because it is not a dispensation, but an unreasonable dissipation : but also because it is given in a law made by a superior authority, and by virtue of a commission which implies the condition of a just cause, or what is prudently judged a necessity. Bishops are bound to be particularly watchful in maintaining the most salutary and holy discipline of the church, of which they are appointed guardians. It is therefore their duty to be very wary, very quick-sighted, and strenuous in opposing vigorously every encroachment, and careful not to grant easily or fre- quently such dispensations as tend to enervate the discipline of church- fasts, or of penance, than which nothing is of greater importance in the church for the salvation of her children.

The faithful, though they use safely and without scruple just dis- pensations, must, on their side be careful in asking them never to allege any false motive, nor exaggerate any real one : in both cases the dispensation, though granted, is null, and subreptitious. It is sub- reptitious and equally null, if any thing essential which ought to have been mentioned, was suppressed. Such methods no way avoid, but aggravate the guilt of the transgression, and only elude the law by mocking God, and imposing on the pastors of his church. Many who allege the motive of their health for an excuse from fasting, would find, if they had courage to make trial, that it would re-establish their broken constitution, and that sensuality and want of resolution are the general cause of the outcry of those whose complaints are loudest. “Believe me, my son,” said an ancient hermit amongst the fathers of the deserts, “ we are as strong in body as they who run in the Olym-

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“ pic games 5 it is the soul that is feeble and wants courage. The learned abbot Floury justly ridicules those who allege that our con- stitutions are altered since the primitive ages of the church, showing that from long before that time, the age of man was limited to three- score and ten or four score years, (Ps. xc. 10,) as at present : That in Egypt, Syria, & c. men were then enfeebled by their excesses, and those kind of debauches which tend most to the ruin of health, and which still make so many of the Eastern people grow old long before their time 5 yet out of these most corrupted countries came the greatest fasters, and these persons prolonged the terms of their lives beyond other men ; that the ancient rule of fasting continued more than a thousand years after the apostles, even in our colder Western regions, down to the time of St. Bernard,® we may add that many of the most tender constitutions, and out of our own families, in the most austere monasteries, are sensible examples under our own eyes, how groundless and idle these pretences are.

In the Eastern countries, whole nations of Christians have not en- tirely degenerated from the primitive austerity in their fasts. Car- dinal Humbert accused the Greeks after their schismatical separation from the Latins, that some amongst them drank and eat some fruit and sallad after the meal in Lent ;b and that some among them did this at any hour. But this reproach regards only some loose livers in that degenerate age, not the timorous and conscientious among the Greeks, or the little collation which some among them had then began to introduce, whilst it was still unknown in the Latin church. Balsamon, patriarch of Antioch, in the decline of the twelfth century, the most learned canonist, mentions that a very moderate second re- fection or collation was allowed but only to those, who by the weak- ness of their constitution found a particular necessity of it. Tourne- fort in his accurate voyage into the Levant, gives an account of the Greek monks of S. Basil, who all make a vow of perpetual abstinence, and live upon some sorts of fish, pulse, olives, and dried figs, and whose refectory is not in the least better furnished than that of La Trappe, except as to the allowance of wine ; but who lose all other advantages of their state, by wanting submission and humility. After which he says,0 “ Even the laity among the Greeks, keep four Lents : “ the first of two months and ends at Easter, and is called the great “ Lent, or Easter Lent. In the first week, which is rather prepara- “ tory, they are allowed to eat cheese, milk, fish, and eggs, all which “ they are forbidden during the following Greeks. They feed wholly “ upon bread, pulse, honey, and shell-fish — as the red naker, common “oysters, muscles, periwincles, and another sort called goat’s-eyes; “also some other fish which are believed to be without blood, namely

• Prat. Spirit, c. 168.

b Fleury Mceun* des Chretiens, n. 8.

c Card. Humbert, contra Nicetam. T. iv. p. 321. See also Alexander of Hale- son, for this abuse of some among the Greeks.

d M. Tonrnefort. ep. 3. T. 1. p. 116, 116. See also Bailet, Hist, du Careme, § 4. ch. 21. p. 66.

160

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“ the polypus and cuttle fish.” They drink wine, which was forbidden them, and also oil, in the time of S. Chrysostom.* But they eat fish on Palm Sunday and on the feast of the Annunciation, provided it does not fall in Holy Week. Their second Lent is that of Advent, which lasts forty days. In this they eat fish, except on Wednesdays and Fridays ; some abstain from it also on Mondays. Their third Lent bears the name of S. Peter and S- Paul, at whose festival it ends, begun from Whitsuntide. During this Lent it is lawful to eat fish ; but nothing made of milk. In their last Lent, called of the F«r- gin Mai'y, because it begins on the first of August, and ends on the .feast of the Assumption, they are confined to the use of shell-fish and pulse, other fish being forbidden them, except on the day of our Saviour’s transfiguration, the 6th of August. During all these Lents, the monks live upon nothing but pulse and dried fruits, and drink wine. The rest of the year the Greeks fast every Wednesday and Friday, and have some, other particular fasting-days. A regular observation of their appointed fasts still holds its ground, even in places where, through a deplorable degeneracy and ignorance, their religion hardly consists in any thing more.

The Armenians, the most religious of all the Oriental nations, go beyond all the rest in the severity of their fasts ; of which M. Tour- nefort gives the following account :b “ They fast like the monks of “ La Trappe. They fare very hard two days every week, Wednes- u day and Friday. The Lents of the Greeks are times of plenty and “ good cheer in comparison of those of the Armenians. Besides the “ extraordinary Lent, they are not permitted through the whole to “ eat anything but roots, nor so much of them as is required to satisfy “ the appetite. The use of shell-fish, oil, and wine, is forbidden them, “ except on Holy Saturday, on which day they begin again to eat “ butter, cheese, and eggs. Besides the great Lent, they have four “ others in the year, consisting’ each of eight days; instituted to pre- u pare for the four great feasts of the Nativity, Ascension, Annuncia- “ tion and S. George. These Lents are as rigorously observed as the “ great one. They must not so much as speak of eggs, fish, oil, or “ butter. Some take no manner of nourishment for three days to- “ gether.” Tavernier, a Calvinist, whose exactness in his travels no one calls in question, speaks of the fasts of the Armenians aafollows:c “ They have six months and three days in the year, wherein they keep “ Lent, or particular fasts. During all that time they feed only upon “ bread and some few herbs. As for the poor labouring people, they “ only feed upon pulse boiled in water and salt : for during their “ chief Lent, they are never allowed any more than others to eat “ either butter or oil ; nay, though they are dying, it is not lawful “ for them to eat flesh upon days wherein that diet is forbidden. “ They may only eat wall-nuts, or small nuts, almonds, or pistaches, “ or some such other fruit that affords no oil ; and they may pound

» S. Chrys. Horn. ii. in Gen. <fe Horn. vi. ad. Pop. Antioch.

b T. iii. p. 246. ep. 7.

c Tavernier, Persian Travels, b. iv. ch. 10. p. 170. Chardin, Tt ii. p. 232.

Ch. IV.] LENT* 161

“ them, and put them among their pulse or their herbs, and boil them “ with their rice. Their archbishops always live only upon pulse.**

Even the devil, the ape of religion, in laying snares to draw souls into perdition by spiritual blindness, infidelity, and superstition, en« gages many Mahometan dervises, and even whole nations, to practise the most austere perpetual fasts and abstinence,6 whose example, whilst we deplore their blindness, must convince us how idle and groundless our plea is for a total incapacity of performing the least fasts — fasts which not only religion commands, but even our corporal health frequently recommends.

When real necessity and a legal just dispensation exempt us from the observance of this holy law, we ought to make use of this indul- gence with confusion and regret. If we consider the advantages of joining the whole body of God’s servants on earth in this great sacri- fice, and holy spiritual warfare, we shall look upon our exclusion and inability as a real misfortune, and subject of humiliation, and a kind of excommunication. S. Gregory the Great, who struggled many years with a very weak constitution and frequent infirmities, once finding himself so ill on Holy Saturday as to fear he should be obliged to break the fast by taking some refreshment before even- ing, called a holy Monk, named Elutherius, out of his hermitage, and intreated him by his prayers to obtain of God strength for him to continue the fast of that day to the end ; and to his great joy he was enabled to perform it.0 Such dispositions cannot fail to sanctify a spirit of compunction, and draw down an abundant share of those graces which this genera) sacrifice of the church moves Almighty God to bestow. For he considers good works as done in the will when perfect ; but all who cannot fast, ought to endeavour to supply this by some other penitential works, longer prayers, greater fervour in their patience and resignation, more abundant alms, and the like. S. Chrysostom, taking notice that among his flock at Constantinople, several, on the ninth or tenth day of Lent, finding themselves too weak to keep the whole rigour of the fast, took their dinner before the hour of the sermon in the afternoon, says s “ If by reason of the M weakness of thy body, thou canst not continue all the day fasting, “ no wise man will reprove thee for it : for we serve a gentle and “ merciful Lord, who expects nothing of us beyond our strength.*4 He adds : “ that only the lazy and dissolute, not those who cannot “ fast, are blameable ; and that other wider doors of confidence to- “ ward God may be opened, than by mere abstinence from food. He “ therefore who takes some food,* says he, “ being unable to fast, let “ him give larger alms ; let him send up more fervent prayers, let him “ be more forward, and show greater alacrity, in hearing the word of “ God. In these things his bodily infirmity can be no hindrance “ to him. Let him be reconciled to his enemies, drive all remem- “ brance of injuries out of his heart, and the like, and he hath kept

» On the Fasts of the Nestorians and other Oriental Christians, see Le Brun, Sur les Liturgies, T. in. p. 576. Baillet, <fec. b Grosse.

0 Paul Diac. in Vitt S. Greg. M. and ipse S. Greg. L Hi. Dial. c. 94.

d S. Chrys. Horn. x. in Gen.

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** thf true fast which the Lord requires: for he eonnumds m to lb* “ SUiQ Iron food for the sake of these things, and that wfe should u check the waotonness of the flesh, and make it obedient and tract- u able to fulfil his commandments* Wherefore 1 beseech yon whe “ Can fast, that you increase and make more fervent this your pious “ forwardness* For the more the outward man decays, the more u your inward man is renewed and strengthened. Fasting brings under “ the body, and bridles its disorderly motion : it also makes the soul u more clear and bright : it likewise gives it wings, and makes it “ light and ready to soar aloft. As to those who are not able t* “ fast, not he who eats and drinks moderately, but he who is slothful, “ dissolute, and sensual, is unworthy this auditory. According to u the oracle of the Apostle : He that eateth, eateth to the Lord j “ and he that eateth not, to the Lord he eateth not, and giveth God “ thanks. In like manner, let him that fisteth give thanks to God, “ who gives him strength able to support the labour of fisting : and “ he that fisteth not, let him give thanks that this hinders him net “ from pursuing the means of his salvation, if he will give attention to “ it” Long before, S. Chrysostom, S* Cyril, of Jerusalem, lays down the same maxims, and forbids, in the words of 8. Paul, those Who fast to censure or despise those, who, by the weakness of their constitution, are not able to abstain from food.* Indeed the law of nature shows dispensations to be necessary in certain cues which could never be meant to fall under the law, and were exceptions tacitly implied in it, as Pope Symmachus justly reasons.* But as ths 8th Council of Toledo in 653 observes,9 for the validity of these dis*

Sensations, two conditions are required : 1st, That they be granted y legal authority : Sdly, That there be an inevitable necessity for granting them* Such dispensations were formerly never granted on account of age or sickness for eating flesh ; but only for taking more than one meal on a fisting day ; for a necessity of breaking tb* fist is more frequent than of the abstinence. In the reign of Juitt* niaa, in an extreme scarcity of pulse, or Lenten provisions, leave was flint given to eat flesh ; but whatever they had to suffer, scarcely any one would make use of it. And how seldom they were formerly granted in comparison of our times, appears by the recourse which the archbishops had to. the popes, to obtain them in fivout of thl greatest kings, when judged necessary for their health. See lnno* oent IILd Boniface VIIL, when he granted this dispensation to

• S. Cyr. Hieros. Cat iv. p. 65.

b Symmachns, ep. 12, ad Avic. T. iv. Cone, Labb. p. 1312.

* Cone. Tolet. 8, Can. 9, T. vi. Cone. p. 407.

d Decretal, L iii. Cap. Consilium de Jejun. n. 46. p. 199f , where the Arch- bishop of Prague addresses himself to Innocent III. fir certain lick persona who desired leave to eat flesh, which he durst not take upon him to grant without consulting the Pope. — Wenceslas, king of Bohemia, asked Boniface VIII. leave to eat flesh on fasting days for an habitual grievous indisposition, under which he could not bear fish or any fasting day diet The Pope commissioned the Cis- tercian Abbot of Cefelt, and another Monk of that order, to examine into the truth of the allegations, and upon their information, by a brief, gave him leave M the following conditions:— 1st, That he should never eat fleeh meat on Fridays or Saturdays. 2nd, That he should never eat it in pubtte j but privately and akme

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king Wenceslas, then sick, and other Popes in the first dispensations for eating flesh meat on fasting days on account of health, require, besides the condition of necessity, that the persons eat it first with great sobriety, (i. e,) plain meats, not delicacies, only of one or two kinds, and with great moderation. 2ndly, That they eat it privately and done, not at a public or common table. This is often a dange- rous occasion of scandal, and contributes very much to induce others to ask, and flatter themselves they want the like indulgence, to the total relaxation of the holy law of fasting, and the ruin of ecclesiastic cal discipline. It is a farther curb, if they who enjoy such a privi- lege or dispensation, be still laid under some restraints, by being obliged to eat alone. Pope Benedict XIV., by a decree addressed to the whole church, in 1741,* strictly commands that all who, upon any just necessity, are dispensed with to eat flesh, or other forbidden food, on any fasting day, be only allowed to eat it in private, and by themselves. 2ndlv, That those who have leave to eat flesh, abstain from all fish, which he declares to be forbidden food to them. 3rdlyf That on fasting days, flesh and fish be never both served up at the same table. 4thly, That all banqueting, and all entertainments bq absolutely forbidden on these days ; which several canons through every age of the church since the primitive times, have continually repeated, and the very nature of a fast or abstinence inculcates. When the Archbishop of Compostella consulted Benedict XIV. what was meant by banquets and entertainments which he declared to be forbidden on fasting days, which some casuists restrained to public banquets

in Mcret. 3rd, And this only in oase be bad not bound himself by vow to ab* stain. See Rainald. ad An. 1297, n. 52, in Contin . AnnaL Baronii. Clement VI., in 1351, by two briefs in 1351, granted a dispensation to John, King of France, and his Queen, to eat flesh on fasting days during his wars, if they were ip places where fish could not be procured, excepting all bent, all Fridays, eng the Vigils of Christmas, Whitsuntide, the Assumption, the feast of 8. John Bap* tut, oi the Apostles, and of All Saints, and requiring that his confessor should he judge of the necessity, and. this only during the war. By another brief, dated the same year, he allows them to be dispensed with not only from the abstinence bat also from the fait, when their confessor and physician should judge it neces- sary. See Dacherius Spidleg. T. iv. p. 276. Gregory XI., in 1376, granted leave to file confessor of Charles. King of France, and his Queen Joan, to eat but. ter, cheese, milk, and eggs, on fasting days, if he judged it necessary. ( Dacher , lb.) Six to* IV., in 1423, gave leave to James, lung of Scotland, to eat flesh on fasting days, provided his confessor should judge it necessary. ( Rainald. ad An, 1484, n. 6.) Julius 1L, in 1505, gave leave to John, King of Denmark, and his Queen Christiana, to eat butter, cheese, milk, eggs, or flesh meat in Lent, when their confessor and physician Judged it necessary. ( Rainald . ad An. 1505, n. 89.) Thus were those dis pensions granted more and more easily. Clement VII., by a famous rescript to the Emperor Charles VM even forbade him to fast or abstain on days commanded by the church, alleging that by so doing he had impaired his health, and found by experience, that fasting was incompatible with hie

S?at fatigues, considering the weakness of his constitution. Whether the reason eged was true or not, the dispensation was grounded on a presumed necessity, (See Rainald . ad An. 1624, n. 96, and De lisle, p. 355. Leo X. had granted sack a general dispensation to Cardinal Ximenes in his old age, and Clement VII. gave leave to Henry, King of Navarre, and his Queen Margaret, to eat flesh in Lent, 1553. (See Rainald. ad An. 1553, n, 35.)

* See his BuHarium.

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given on solemn and extraordinary occasions, the Pope answered with surprise, that the words of his decree, as those of the canons on this head, were too express to leave room for any doubt or cavil ; whence he repeated that all manner of banquets, though given privately and to private friends, are here forbidden. This, however, we are not to understand of an ordinary familiar dinner to which particular per- sons are invited according to the rules of civil society, charity, and hospitality.

It was formerly the custom to grant dispensations for not fasting in cases of necessity, by way of permutation, substituting in lieu of the fasting some otner good works, as certain alms-deeds or prayers. Works thus enjoined would have the additional advantage of obedience, and persons who are not able to fast, would still contribute their mite in the universal penitential sacrifice of the church at this holy time, and share in its benefit. This, many zealous pastors still do on proper occasions ; and it seems indispensable in doubtful cases where the competence of the necessity is not sufficiently evident: “ Nam “ cum ii qui nihil omittunt de humilatione Jejunii, sub sterili fati- “ gatione desudent, nisi se Eleemosynarum qua possunt, erogatione u sanctificent ; dignum est ut in alimoniam Pauperum abundantior “ sit eorum Largitio, quorum ad abstinendum minor est Fortitudo.” S. Leo, Serm. 85, c. 3.

Persons who are unable to fast, or even to abstain, ought never- theless out. of their own devotion, with a truly penitential spirit, and an holy zeal to glorify God, promote their own sanctification, and make themselves an acceptable Holocaust to God, endeavour to make up this omission by other means. Even those who fast, ought to consider that the more indulgent the church has become in this law, the more are we obliged to practice other self-denials, to study to make the interior fast from our own will more perfect, and by every other means to regain what we lose in this important article of our penance. For notwithstanding the relaxations of the law in our de- generate times, we have all of us sins to expiate, spiritual diseases to cure, enemies to arm ourselves against, and temptations to fear, which call upon us to have recourse to the necessary preservatives. Pardon for sins, and a reconciliation with God, are not become easier in our time than they were in the first ages of the church. There can be no prescription against the rights of God’s justice ; and if we desire to be reinstated in his favour, we must endeavour to give our penance every necessary part or ingredient which is required to engage the divine mercy and acceptance. A true spirit of penance will put us upon our guard against the seduction of the flesh, in abating too easily the mortification of our exterior fast, by which we are bound to afflict and humble the flesh. It will make us in earnest to redeem what, through our weakness and inability, is wanting in the severity of our fast, by those privations which make part of the general fast, by which we are bound continually to watcn over and curb our senses and will. Such as are dispensed with from the fast on account of their youth, of sickness, or hard labour, must seriously consider that they nave passions to curb, and sins to satisfy for ; consequently are

I “

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bound to take part as much as they can in the general penance of the church: for those who bring what lies in them will share in the blessings which Heaven is. open at this time to shower down upon all who dispose their souls to receive them. But those who do nothing, or who oring forth no worthy fruits of penance, deprive themselves of the immense spiritual advantages of this holy time, resist the calls of God and his church, and neglect an essential duty on which their salvation depend^ Even persons of the weakest constitutions can, without hurting their health, make a less and more frugal meal, eat meats more simply dressed, use no savoury sauces, make it a law never to drink out of meals, nor any thing strong, deny themselves many conveniences and niceties, refrain from superfluities, content themselves at night with a coarse and small collation, &c. The liberty which many, who are dispensed with as to the fast, take of living with- out any rule, and depriving themselves of nothing, is a formal oppo- sition to the spirit of the church and its holy law. Those who labour under some painful sickness, or whose poverty and hard labour render their whole life a perpetual Lent, must endeavour to sanctify their pains by perfect resignation, and a sincere penitential spirit, with such little additional voluntary sacrifices as these will suggest according to their circumstances, and they cannot fail to reap the most plentiful harvest of divine graces in proportion to the fervour of their desires. A learned Protestant bishop, after having strongly exhorted all who are able to keep the fast of Lent, recommends to those who are ex- cused from fasting, to repair this loss by other means in the manner following :*

“ Let every one of us lay aside all this Lent, all fine clothes, and “ our usual attire, for that is still the custom of mourners in all places. “ And let us retire ourselves, as much as is possible, (for so mourners “ also do,) making no visits, nor willingly receiving any, if nothing but “ civility oblige us to it.

“ Let the time be spent in this retirement, in reading and prayer ; “ in examining our consciences, and bewailing our offences ; in “ taking a view of our own miseries, and those of all mankind, and “ imploring the divine mercy ; in laying to heart the wants and suffer- “ ings of our Christian brethren ; in meditating on Christ’s sufferings, M and such like spiritual exercises $ which we are too apt to neglect in “ a crowd of business and company.

“ Let the consideration of these miseries move us to afflict our- “ selves with fasting ; or, if that cannot be, with a spare diet.

“ Let the rich especially, and those who live deliciously, deny thehr “ appetites, keep a slender table, and punish their excesses with harder “ fire.

“ Drink no wine, nor strong liquors, without necessity ; make no “ feasts, nor accept of invitations to any.

“ Give alms liberally ; frequent public prayers ; and there let us “ humble ourselves before God, and blush to lift up our eyes unto “ Heaven.

* Dr. Simon Patrick. Bishop of Ely, 44 Tr. of Repentance and Fasting.

especially of the Lept Fast,” Part. iii. ch. 90. in the Conclusion, p. 900.

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“ Yea, let us pray with all prayer and application in the spirit, “ fEphes. vi. 8,) t. e. address ourselves to God in all sorts of holy “ thoughts and devout affections ; and that with great fervour, ana “ ardent desires ; with tears and knocking our breasts, and bended ** knees, (as Theophylact expounds the words of the Apostle,) be* “ seeching him by his cross and passion to deliver us.

“ Tremble to think that you have often prayed that God would “ pitifully behold the sorrowe of your hearty when perhaps you felt “ no sorrow there ; and now, let it be testified by all the sorrowful “ actions here mentioned.

“ Forbear music, dancing, and all such like pleasures.

“ Let those that have been slothful content themselves with less “ sleep, that they may have more time for prayer and heavenly

thoughts.

“ They who have been too voluptuous, wifi do well to lie hard.

“ Finally, let there be a general abstinence from all manner of re* “ creations, unless the preservation of health make them necessary, “ and then use them privately.

“ Leave the play houses quite empty, and make the churches full. “ Go to no public shows nor meetings ; but spend the time when you “ come from church, in setting all things right at home. St. Chry* “ sostom frequently beseeches his hearers, that when they come home, “ they would spend their time in ruminating upon what they had been “ taught, and conferring one with another about it; and so free “ themselves from all bad desires, and flee the snares of the devil. “ For when the devil, saith he, sees our minds solicitous about spi* “ ritual matters, and perpetually conversant in them, be dares not ** approach us ; but flees away before the face of a more powerful u spirit working in us.

“Now all this doth not come up to the primitive strictness, but it “is a mortification of sensual nature, which delights in company, “ merry-meetings, feasts, jollity, sport and plays, laughter and all * manner of pleasure, which we ought to lay aside at this season, “ that we may fulfil the apostolical precept. (James iv. 9, 10.) Be “ afflicted, and mourn and weep : Let your laughter be turned into “ mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves in the “sight of the Lord, and ne shall lift you .up.”

CHAP. V.

On . the Condition* which must accompany our Fasts*

Fasting ought never to go alone : it must always be joined, as much as possible, with alms-deeds and prayer, and all other good works. Nothing more powerfully moves God to bestow the treasures of his grace abundantly on us, than if, for his sake, and to imitate his goodness and beneficence, we liberally open our hands, and give generously a share of the temporal goods we have received from his bounty, to those who stand in need of them. Especially when we sue to him for mercy, we must show mercy ourselves to our fellow creatures, and compassionately relieve their corporal wants. This

Ol yj u»v« i«r

srM is the law whioh Almighty God lays down fbr hii own conduct, and the condition upon which he offers us his mercy and graces* Nay, it is unbecoming to address ourselves to God for mercy, without fulfilling it on otir side. The angel, who appeared to Cor- nelius on a fasting day, testified hew acceptable his prayers and alms were to God, by which he deserved by a miracle, to be brought to the knowledge of Christ and his holy with, and to be the first fruits tf the Gentiles in hia church, to open the door to all foreign nations, who Were not of the race of the ancient chosen people of God. (Acts x. 30, 31.) Tobias, in the instructions which he gave his ton, enlarges most of all upon alms-deeds. (Tob. iv. 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.) And the angel Who conducted young Tobias into Media, after hit return, teaches them that alms ought to go together with fasting and prayer*

“ Prayer is good with fasting and alms, for alms deliveretn from death, “and Bhall purge away all sin.” (Tob. xii. 7, 8.) The prophet Isaiah (Isa. IviL 7,) gives his approbation only to such a fast ; and the church recommends the constant practice in Lent, by repeating his Words in her daily office at that holy time: “ Break thy bread to

“ the hungry, and bring the needy and strangers into thy house :

“ when thou shalt see one naked cover him, and despise not thy own u flesh."

Hernias, who wrote soon after the Apostles9 time/ says, that what- ever is spared on fasting days is to be given to the poor ; adding, “If “ thou fhlfillest thy fast in the manner which I command thee, thy victim “ shall be acceptable to the Lord, and thy fast shall be entered in the M book of life.” This maxim of giving to the poor the meat that Ss retrenched, or money that is saved by the fast, is repeated by all the ancient fathers and councils down to the 12th century and lower, till delicacies and luxury tainted the tables, and increased their expense on fasting days. The fathers even declare, that fasting avails little without alms, where persons have abilities. “ If you fast without “ giving aims, it is not to be reputed a fast,” says S. Chrysostom/ 8. Cnsarius of Arles says: “ Fasting without alms is not available, u unless a person he so poor as to nave nothing to give, in whom M the good will is sufficient.”0 And the learned and pious Theodul- phus, bishop of Orleans, writes : “ Fasting is of little advantage, if it be “ not commended and supported by prayer, watching, and alms-deeds.”* A little before, in his 36th Capitular, he describes the manner of

• Hennas Pastor. l.iiL Similit 5. 6d. Cotel. T.L p, 1 00. Origan, horn. 4. in dir. in cap. 0. Matt T. ii. d. 283. S. Ambros. 6erm. 25. (do Quadrag. 9.) a. 6. T. tt. p. 426. In App. idem derm. 29. (in Quadrag. 13.) p. 431. S. Aug. in Ps. alii, S. 8. T. iv. p. 370. <fe Seim. 151. n. 7. T. v. p. 715. Serm. 210. n. 12. ib. p. 932. Constit. A post. 1. 5. c. 80. T. 1. ed. Colei, p. 823. (where it is made a precept of standing law.) 8. Chrys. bom. 8. in Gen. n. 6. T. 4. p. 63. S. Leo Serm. 12. da Jqjunio, decixni Mensis, T. l.p. 126. Serm. 14. de Jejun. c. 2. p. 126, Ac. 6* Casa t Arelat horn. 2. BibL ratr. T. riii. p. 820. S. Greg. M. L i. in Erang« horn. 16. n. 6. T. i. p. 1495. Theodulphus Episc. AureEan. Capital. 38. T. vxL Gene. p. 1146. Rathenus Episc. Veron. 10. Saculo. Sam. 1. de Quadrag. n. 7* X. it Spicil. p. 283. S. Carolus Borrom. Cote. 1. Mediol. Part it oap. 7. T. a?. Cone. Ac. b S. Chrys. horn. 77. in Matt n. 6. p, 749* T. rii. ed Ban*

« S. Cesar. Arelat horn. 2. Bibl. Pair. T. viii. p. 820.

4 Theodnlfh* AML Capital. 49. T, rtt. Cone*Labh,

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fasting in: Lent. After saying, that those who eat at noon, or take any thing before evening, are by no means to be thought to fast, he adds, “ Let all hear mass, and assist at vespers ( at sun-set), after *‘ which hour, let them give their alms and then eat. If any one “ cannot go to vespers, let him make his prayer at the evening hour, “ and then take his refection.” Those who are able to do less in fast- ing are bound to make up this deficiency by doubling their alms, according to S. Leo,* and other fathers ; which rule all Christians are bound more particularly to observe, since the great relaxation of dis- cipline in this duty.

A second, and of all others the most essential concomitant virtue of fasting, is devout and humble prayer, the principal and most powerful arms of holy penance : in tne first place, a constant attend- ance, if possible, upon the public office of the church, which is much longer than usual at this holy season, and pathetically adapted to the most perfect dispositions of the heart, necessary fbr the sanctifica- tion of the fast. Compunction and penance ought to have the prin- cipal share in our devotions at this season. More time than usual ought also to be reserved for pious reading, self-examination, con- sideration on the duties of our state, and holy meditation, of which the sufferings of Christ ought to be a main object, with a particular attention to our own most pressing spiritual necessities, our ruling and most dangerous passions, and the virtues we chiefly stand in need of. It is an excellent practice to propose to ourselves every Lent the attainment of some particular virtue, in the most perfect degree, and the complete victory over some vice. Fasting and prayer are mutually supports to each other. Prayer entertains the spirit of compunction, and animates and enables the soul to bear cheerfully the severities of the fast ; it is a spiritual nourishment, which gives vigour and strength to fasting. On the other side, fasting fits the soul for the exercises of prayer, by disengaging her attention from earthly things, from the gratification of sense, and slavery of the body ; by giving her wings to soar up to Heaven ; by rendering the mind free and active, and its sight clear and lively ; and by subduing the body : for the lighter this is made, the more is the vigour of the soul increased. Moreover, the soul, when afflicted by the chastise- ment of the flesh, pours forth herself more earnestly in humble compunction and prayer, and more ardently entreats God to look on her miseries, with a sense of which she is more feelingly penetrated by the voluntary affliction of the flesh.

It is easy to infer from this condition, that a close recollection and retirement, as far as every one’s circumstances will allow, ought to be the care of every good Christian during the Lenten fast. And this the example of Cnrist, our divine model, during his forty days’ fast in the wilderness, also the example of all the saints, and the spirit of the church strongly inculcate. Christ hid himself in the desert, to show what ought to be, in some degree, the life of every one who calls himself his disciple and imitator, by sequestering himself in some pleasure from the world, as far as his obligations and circumstances ft S. Leo. Serm. 86, de Jejun* Septum Means, c. 3. p. 349.

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will permit, at certain seasons of penance and prayer. Every one may contrive to find a little more leisure than usual to apply his whole attention to prayer and spiritual things, especially on Sundays, and for some times of silence, during part of his work, at least, to turn his heart to God by devout aspirations, &c. Solitude is the asylum of innocence, where virtue seeks to shelter itself from the contagion of the world, and. where grace is most easily recovered and strengthened : it is the terrestrial paradise, where souls freely con- verse with God, and breathe the pure air of Heaven : it is the region which all ought to covet in times of penance and prayer, as mu<m as is compatible with their worldly obligations. Those holy monks and hermits, who lived always sequestered from commerce with the world, rather like angels than men, in Lent chose some more remote wilderness or cave, which was still more inaccessible to the distraction of visitors witness S. Simeon Stylite, S. Euthymius, S. Cuthbert, and others, mentioned by venerable Bede ; and innumerable others, both in the East and the West, down to our times : witness also'the rules of all religious orders more or less ; even the present reformed congre- gations of Cluny, Monte Cassino, S. Vanne, S. Maur, &c. Hence an ancient pious father, author of a sermon ascribed to S. Ambrose,* exhorts those who live in cities, in Lent; t<T Inhabit deserts in mind and desire, which adviee S. Charles BorromsBo vehemently repeats.b

Under alms are comprised all works of niercy, and of every other virtue, as the fathers often inculcate : and under prayer all the exercises of religion and piety ; and in the first place frequent con- fession, and also communion, if the penitent be disposed. One of the ends proposed by the church in the institution of Lent, is the preparation of our souls to approach the holy communion at Easter, with the greatest purity and the most solemn devotion.6 But frequent communion in Lent was part of this preparation. In the Greek church indeed, it is the custom in Lent only to say Mass on Saturdays, Sundays, and the feast of the Annunciation/1 On other days they say only some of the prayers of the mass, without the consecration, and receive the Eucharist that was consecrated on the Sunday, and reserved for this purpose. This is called Missa Pra>~ sanctificatorumf and is used by the Latins only on Good Friday/ The omission of mass, from the beginning of their Lent, our Shrove Monday, till Holy Saturday, except on festivals, is looked upon by the Greeks as the greatest mark of sorrow, compunction, and pen- ance : and all the laity, except public penitents, have been ac- customed to communicate on festivals, and every Saturday and

* S. Ambr. Senn. 23. (in Qnadrng. 7.) n. 7* T. ii. in Append, p. 422.

* Act. Ecc. Mediol. Parr 3. i. Cone. 5. T. l. p. 174, Ac.

c S. Chrys. Or. in eos qui Pascha jy unant, contra Jude os. n. 4. T. 1. p. 611, dec. d Cone. Quini-sext. sive in Trnle, can. 52. T. 6. Cone. p. 1165.

* The Dry Mats, which S. Lewis caused to be said on shipboard, and some others imitated, differed, by having neither consecration nor communion. Urban VIII. would not allow it to be any where revived or practised. See Mairi, Hierolex. V. Mitta sicca . p. 366.

f Twv #5poiry«**fdvwv.

Sunday.* Soma among the Greeks, esfmeieUy Nieetaa» thd wtimm* tie monk, have pretended, that to aay mass in the merging on a fasting day is contrary to the fast* which Cardinal Humbert jusllv refutes )b but repulses the slanders of a foul mouthed adversary with too great warmth.

In the Western church, mass has been always said every day, and frequent, nay, daily communion strongly recommended in Lent* Tertullian proves that the prayer of sacrifice is not contrary to the fast f neither is the holy communion of the Lord’s body, because it unite* u* more to Qodf Mass was said on fasting days after the af* ternoon sermon, hymns, and prayers towards evening, 8. Ambrose vehemently exhorts all to attend these offices every day in Lent, afcd receive the body of the Lord Jesus, in “whom is forgiveness of sinsi “ the supplication of divine reconciliation, and of eternal protection* <* When the enemy shall see the dwelling (of thy heart) filled with the “ brightness of the heavenly presence, and shut against his snarCs “ through Christ, he will flee, and thou Shalt pass the whole night “without hurt: Thou wilt not forget on thy bed that L$edc4tt “ whom thou m&dest the tender of thy prayer in the evemMr 4&A. “who fed thee in thy hunger with the banquet of his body*^. & Maximus, in a sermon, by Borne ascribed to 8. Ambrose, sa§b :< ^ We M want in Lent that food which gives life, nourishes the sqghaetro- “ duces Christ, and shuts out the enemy/’* The ancienbauthor of another sermon, under the name of 8. Ambrose, says* I put “ you in mind that in Lent you offer and communica&mvery day, or, “at least every Lord’s day/ Theodulphus of Orleans, Cvhen the faithful were much fallen from the fervour of the primitive ages, re* quired that all should make their confession the week before Lent,1* should hear Mass and Vespers every day in Lent, and give their alma before their refection/ should receive the sacrament of the body and blood of the Lord every Sunday in Lent, on Maunday Thurs- day, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday, on Easter day and every day during the Octave/ The Emperor Lewis Debonnair, in his last sickness, during the forty days of Lent, made his confession and re- ceived the communion every day/ Pope Nicholas, in his answer to the Bulgarians,1 writes as follows upon tnis subject t “ You inquire if “ you ought to receive the communion of the body and blood of our “ Lord in Lent every day — that you do So, we humbly pray the “ Lord, and most earnestly exhort you ; if your heart be disengaged “ from sin, &c* But it is only in Lent that we ought to communicate

* On the Miua Prasanctif. See Goar. Euchol Grcecor. p. 187. Leo Allatius,

De Missa Prasanctif. p. 1631. Le Bran. Cercm. de la Messe, T. 2. p. 376. and above all, Thomassin, Tr. du Jeune. part 2. ch. 23. p. 479. 6t De X*tile,l. 6. ch. 1. p. 470. b Card. Humbert, contra Ntcetam . p. 318, Ac.

« Tertnl. de Orat . Dot*, c. 14. p. 136, 136.

d S. Ambr. in P s. 118. Serin. 8. n. 48. T. L p. 1073.

* S. Ambr. 8erm. 27. (in Qnadrag. 11.) n. 6. T. iL Append, p. 429.

r lb. Serm. 26. (in Quadr. 9.) n. o. p. 426. * Cap. 36. T. Vn. Cone. p. 1146,

* lb. c. 36. p. 1146. * C. 41. ib.

k See Vita Lud. pit. in Spicil Dncbenne, T. iL p . 318.

1 Nich. 1 Reap, act Consult. Bnlgar. c* ix. T. viii. Cone. p. MO,

UOHh

Ch. V>]

u every day, though we should at all tines attend the prayers and “ sacrifices of the faithful.” By this answer it is dear that it was then the custom at Rome, at least for all the faithful, to communicate every day in Lent. The learned, pious, and justly famous William, Bishop of Paris, in his synodal confessions, orders that all go to confession before Palm Sunday, on pain of not being admitted to the communion till after Low Sunday, and being forbidden to eat flesh till their communion. Stephen Ponchor, another bishop of Paris, in 1500, commands the same, under pain of being forbidden, till their communion, the use also of eggs and cheese, and if they persist obsti- . nately, likewise interdicted tne entrance of the church.* S. Charles Borromceo, that zealous reviver of ancient discipline, orders the curates to press all the people to communicate in Lent, if they cannot oftener, at least every Sunday in Lent, and all the Sundays of Ad- vent. He again exhorts the laity to approach the holy sacrament every Sunday in‘ Lent, if they cannot every day,b &c.

It is a counsel repeated by the fathers, councils, and theologians, that married persons pass Lent, all other fasting days, holidays, and vigils, in continence,* provided it be done by mutual consent, as is related of S. Lewis and his Queen. d S. Charles Borromceo,*. and the Roman, or Trent Catechism, order it to be strongly recommended. But this at present can only be looked upon as a counsel, not as a precept.

Plays, and all stage entertainments are more strictly forbidden in Lent by the fathers and councils/ The Emperor Justinian enacted a law to forbid any theatrical exhibitions ever to be tolerated in Lent, or on Sundays or Holidays.*

Diligent attendance on sermons, catechism, and all spiritual instruc- tions, nas always been looked upon as one of the great duties of Christians at this holy time. S. Basil pressed his flock never to de- ft Synodicen. Paris. An. 1002. p. 1 79.

b Synod us 4. Mediol. Tit de Euch. p. 110. Act. Eccl. Mediol. pars. Lp. 110 coL2.

« Syn. 5. Mediol. ib. p. 174. col. 2. S. Paul favours this, (1 Cor. vii. 5). The fcthers are express, Origen hom. 10. in Levit T. ii. ed. Ben. p. 246. S. Basil, bom. L de Jejun. n. 9. T. M. p. 6. 8. Greg. Nas. Or. 40. T. i. p. 642. S» Cferys. hom. 01. alias 62 in Matt a. 6. T. vii. ed Ben. p. 727. Balsamon Jons Orient, p. 086. Also the Latins, Ambrosia* ter in c. 7. ep. 1. ad Cor. T. ii. p. 122. A Ambr. in several sermon*. S. Jeroxn. 1. i. adv. Jovm. p. 160, 162. T. iv. S. Aug. Berm. 206. (in Quadr. 2.) n. 3. T. v. p. 922. Serm. 207. (in Quadf. 3.) n. 2. p. 923. Berm. 209. (in Quadr. 0.) n. 2. p. 927, Ac. S. Caesar Serm. 10. inter. Op. 8. Aug. n. 6. T. v. Append, p. 22. S. Stigios, bom. 16. T. xii. Bibl. Pair. p. 221. S. Greg. M. 1. ii. ep. 94. T. ii. p. 1160. S. Theod. Cantuar. ep. Capital, n. 23, T. ix. Spicil. p. 66. Concilia Hibernise ap. Dachervy T. ix. Spiril. d. 42. Greg. Turon. 1, 2 de Mirac. S. Martini, c. 24, p. 1963. Theodulph. Aurel. Capit 43. T. vii. Cone. Herard. Archep. Turon. Capit 62. Nicolaus 1. ad Consul ta Bulgar. Cap. 9. T. viiL Cone. Ratherius ep. Veron. Eaiat Synodal. T. it Spied p. 264. (tareon Compend. Theol. de dept. Sacram. T. ix. p. 292. See Fagnaaus. in 1. iii. Decre- tal. de Feriis c. 4. n. 10. p. 89. Nat Alexander, de l’lsle, Thomawin, 4k c.

4 Gaudefrid. de Bello-Loco ap. Duchesne, T. v. p. 448.

• S. Car. Cone. Mediol. 6. Constitut 3. T. xv. Con. pp. 674, 676, Ac.

r S. Chrys. hom. 6. de Pcenit n. 1. T. 2. p. 317. Photius, Nomteaa. Tit vii. cap. 1. T. 2. p. 919. Nicolaus 1. ad Cons. Bugar. cap. 47. p. 633. S. Carol. Borr, Acta EccL Modiol. Part iii Edict de Quadrag. T. i. p. 361,

Photius Nomcean. tit 7. cap, 1,

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fraud themselves of their spiritual nourishment, by any one being ab- sent, without necessity, from the sermon which was made them twice every day, morning and afternoon.* S. Austin and other fathers fre- quently mention that they preached every day in Lent, and often twice a day, &c.

CHAP. VI.

On the interior Dispositions necessary to sanctify our Fasts .

Fasting is sanctified by the interior dispositions of the soul, with which it is undertaken and performed. From these it receives its name, whether of a virtue or a vice ; from these it principally derives the degree of its merit or acceptance with God, and first of all from the intention. The fast of Mahometan dervises is superstition : the fast of the Indian Brach mans, and of the deluded Banians, is idolatry: that of the Pharisee was foolish vanity and hypocrisy : that of the covetous man, who grudges himself his daily food, is base avarice ; and the fast of him, who out of love to his belly, prepares himself by fasting for a banquet, is no better than gluttony. A motive of obedience, religion, and penance, gives a fast the dignity and happy advantages of all these virtues. We must fast in obedience to the law of God and his church ; also to fit our souls f6r the duties of prayer and heavenly contemplation ; to consecrate our bodies pure victims of love, adoration, and praise to God, in order to glorify him by them ; to subdue our flesh and bring it into subjection, and punish sin in it, which we have so often made the instrument of offending him by all its senses. And in proportion to our fervour in each of these holy dispositions, shall we stamp these virtues upon our fast : but it is a perfect spirit of penance which must particularly charac- terize our fast in this* penitential season. Our confessions, prayers, sacrifices, alms, fasts, and other works, which compose the external part of our penance, derive their virtue from the interior spirit of penance, with which they are accompanied. The first degree of this spirit of penance, and the first condition required for the sanctification of our fast is, that we fast from, and utterly renounce all sin, and study perfectly to die to the inordinate love of ourselves, the poison- ous source of all our irregular passions and spiritual disorders. The Pharisees fasted austerely ; but their fasts, infected with the hypocrisy, with the pride and corruption of their hearts, only furnished new matter for their more severe condemnation, as the threats denounced against them by the most merciful Redeemer of the world demon- strate.5 The Jews had fasted and afflicted themselves under the weight of their temporal calamities, when they complained that G:>d had no regard to their supplications. To whom he answered by his prophet,® (Isa. lviii. 5,) with this severe but just reproach : “ Because in

» S. Bas, bom. 2. de Jejnn. n. 8. T. ii. p. 16.

b S. Chrys. Or. in eos qui Paschajejuant, contra Jndeoa, T. i. p. 611, Ac.

c See S. Ang. Serm. 206. (in Quadr. 2,) n. 9. T. v. p. 922. ed. Ben, A Serna, 207. (in Qnadr. 3.) n. 2. p. 223.

LENT.

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“the day of your fast is found your own will." You fast) and being blinded by pride and covetousness, you injure charity by your unjust law-suits ; you contend with your neighbours for trines ; you oppress those whose burdens you ought yourselves to bear ; you harbour unjust suspicions ; you slander and backbite ; you entertain hatred, anger, and revenge ; you abandon your hearts to the pursuit of your irregular appetites ; live slaves to iutemperance, lust, enmities, strife, ambition, and pride. “ Is this the fast which 1 have chosen ?" saith the Lord. “ Thou fastest, and art angry," says St. Jerom ; “ what kind of fast “ can that be ?”* In another place he calls such fasts the martyrdom of vanity, not of virtue; and cries out: “ Let the foolish philosophers “ of Paganism boast of such martyrs. But God declares : My spirit “ rests upon no one but upon him who is humble and meek."6 And St. Leo, speaking on this subject, cries out : “ What does it avail the “ soul to act as if she commands the body as mistress and queen, if “ all this while she is a slave in the heart ? Whilst the body fasts “ from food, the soul must fast from vices, and govern her affections “ and appetites by the sway of her authority and dominion."* This the fathers call the spiritual fast ;d the general, the essential, and in- dispensable fast of our whole lives, of all times, and of all ages ; but which requires a redoubling of our care and watchfulness in the peni- tential season of Lent. And “ in this obligation there is no excuse, “where the whole depends upon our will alone," says St. Austin.* Therefore, the eyes, the* feet, the hands, all our senses and faculties must fast, or be carefully restrained from all sin or dangerous occasion of evil : above all, our heart must fast by the strict government of all its affections, and curb of all its vices and passions. In this holy time we must study to live in the greatest purity of heart, and in aU our senses and actions, by the most careful and constant watchfulness over them. That idle curiosity, which gives a boundless range to our faculties, and exposes us through them to continual snares on every ride, must be curbed, and confined to what belongs to duty, and what will improve the mind and the heart in the knowledge and love of God and all virtue ; or at least to things serious and useful, which may be referred and made conducive to these ends. Our imagination and thoughts must be kept under rule by sober recollection, and not suffered to rove upon objects which flatter covetousness, vanity, pride, or other inordinate passions, or which entertain the mind in habitual indolence, sloth, and dissipation. Our will, in the first place, must be vigorously curbed in its desires and appetites : must be kept in subjection, and bent to a pliableness and ready obedience, which may be the death or crucifixion of self and all stubbornness, the offspring of pride, and the root of all inordinate passions and vices. Not only the powers of our souls, but our senses must also be guarded by lay- ing a general restraint in some degree upon them. Our eyes must

* S. Hier. ep. ad Enstochium, p. 46. b Hieron. ep. ad Panlam.

T. iT. p. 56. Ben. c S. Leo, Serin. 18. de Jejun. cap. 2.

4 Caarian, L 5. Instit. c. 22. A Collat 21. c. 22. A 15, Ac.

* In epc excusaHo nulla estf ubi Voluntas sola tola Facullas est . S. Aug. Serin. 210. n. 12. T. v. p. 982.

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be taught not to wander without rule or order ; not to steal unbridled glances, and throw off that subordination which ought continually to hold them steadily under the direction and command of the will, and of reason. The general sense of the touch must not be flattered by softness and delicacies, and so of the rest. If they are taught during these forty dap to bear the yoke of a just restraint, they will be inured to this happy subjection, which will give us a victory over our- selves, and the mastery of our passions, easily to be strengthened through the remaining course of our lives. In this an eye must be had to our ruling passions, and most dangerous inclinations and fail- ings, whether anger, vanity, sloth, intemperance, or any other vice. This the fathers never cease to inculcate at this time. M By fasting,” says St. Chrysostom,* 44 I mean abstinence from all sin, which is the •* end of abstinence from food. Therefore we fast from meat and 44 drink, that we may curb the lusts of the flesh ; and make the horse H more easily to obey his rider. He who fasts, ought above all things H to refrain from anger, to learn meekness and gentleness, to have a “ contrite heart ; to repel all irregular desires, to have before him " continually the eye of his- neighbour. A faster ought to be humble, u mild, lowly, a contemner of the glory of this life, &c." In another sermon,* he presses the same obligation with great earnestness ; that this must be done so strenuously that a man may acquire habits of these virtues before the conclusion of Lent. And in the beginning of Lent,® he represents how this season prepares the mind to be a fit soul to receive the divine doctrine, just as a field when the weeds are killed, is disposed fbr the seed. “ Fasting (sap he) brings tran- 44 quillity of soul, ftc. There is no tumult to-day, no noise, no 44 chopping of meat, no running about of cooks. All these things 44 being removed, this dty is become like a grave, sober, and chaste 41 matron or mistress of a family. Upon which when I cast mine “eyes, and observe what a sudden change there is in it, from what It 44 was yesterday, I am amazed at the force of fasting. For having “made an entrance into every man’s soul, it hath purified the heart, “ and transformed the mind and thoughts of magistrates and private * persons, rich and poor, Greeks and Barbarians. Even he who wears w the diadem, like all the rest hath bowed his soul to this obedience. “ And to-day there is no difference between the table of the rich and 44 the poor ; but every where a spare diet, free from luxury and “ vanity. Every one comes to-day with more pleasure to a slender “ table, than yesterday he came to one furnished with all dainties, and 44 where the most generous wines were not wanting.”

A second part of interior penance is self examination, which exer- cises a double function. 1st, The review of our consciences. 2nd, The consideration bf all our duties. By the first we call ourselves to an account, by taking a close view of all our actions, and of all the cor* rupt inclinations of our hearts, in order to discover our most hidden sins. Though this is the duty of a Christian at all times, in Lent we ought to give it more time and care, using more than ordinary dili-

* 8. Chryn. Rom. 8. in Gen. t> Idem Hoop. 16. in Gen.

« Horn. 2. in Gen.

Ch. TL] m IW

in dttt* ifctiinf examination, and consecrating to H some Kttle me, on one or two days a week, to inquire into the state of our souls this present year, chiefly on those commandments and oblige- tiotts which we are most in danger of transgressing ; taking these singly, or one at a time. Half an hour at a time may be usually suffi- cient or less } for great care must be taken not to fall into scrupulo- sity, and to perplex our minds and consciences : of which if there appears any danger, this examination ought to be made very short, or entirely forbidden ns. It ought never to be begun without imploring the light of divine grace, and an earnest desire to discover and lay open impartially all the wounds of our souls, not sparing ourselves, that by our repentance, God may be moved mercifully to spare us. We must examine what were the principal occasions which betrayed its into sin, In order to shun them : we most mount up to the sources Or ruling passions, which are the springs of the most fatal disorders in our affections. Without this precaution our hearts will easily remain enslaved to many hidden vices, and onr repentance itself be very defective. How grossly does self-love blind and deceive the genera- lity of men in their favourite vices and passions ? How grievously do they often delude themselves even in their repentance itself, in spar- ing, out of it preverse fondness, their most dangerous enemies ? At least how seldom do penitents profje their spiritual wounds to the bottom, by neglecting which their cure is only palliative, and their etii habits of anger, jealousy, vanity, pride, detraction, or other vices, continually break out again, and oniy die with them. Alas ! how justly does St. Bernard complain : “ Often under the exterior weeds “ of penance a man is a slave of self-will ; and by covetousness, M vanity, or ambition, an idolator of the mammon, ftdse glory, or a honours of the world. Which danger, if we would shun, we most ** ley the ate to the root of the tree, and not content ourselves with m lopping the branches.” *

The second branch of self-examination is the consideration of our respective duties, and the manner in which we are obliged to acquit oufselvei of them. To this we may allot half an hour every Sunday and Holiday in Lent, reducing all our respective obligations to certain general heads ! as, 1. Public prayer, and the office of the ehurch. 2. Private prayer, what weekly, and what “every day 5 also the manner of performing it. 3. Holy meditation or reading, ser- mons, catechism, and keeping Sundays and Holidays. 4. Evening Self-eiamination, general and particular, the sacrament of penanee, and iksting. 6. The hqly communion, and hearing mass. 6. The regulation of ordinary actions in order to perform them well 5 our mng, meals, conversation, recreation, sickness, Ac. 7. The particu- lar duties of our state and calling reduced to certain principal heads, to be considered apart. 8. Our duties towards those of our family, parents, children, wife, servants, masters, domestic companions, Ac. 9. 6ur general duties to all neighbours, of justice, charity, or dvfl society, spiritual and corporal works of mercy ; what company we

8. Bernard, Serm. 9, in Astumpt. B. Marta V. n. A

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ought to keep or shun ; yet so as not to be wanting in charity, or respect for all, and the Uke. We must consider how often each duty ought to be performed, and in what manner ; make such reso- lutions, and lay out our lives in such a manner, as to give all due per- fection to every action, and consequently to our whole lives ; recom- mending these purposes to God, in order to beg his grace, and during the year from time to time, as once a week, calling them over, and considering whether we square our actions by these rules.

Compunction of heart, or sorrow for sin committed, with a firm resolution of not sinning for the time to come, is another part of interior penance ; or rather the soul and essence of all true penance, and the crown of all its works ; which, without this, are a body without life, a phantom, or shadow, and appearance without the reality or substance. Fasting was practised both by the Jews and Pagans, as a demonstration of grief, and an outward act of mourning, either on temporal or spiritual occasions ; as when David grieved for the sick- ness of his child/ (2 Kings xii. 16.) The same is to be said of other marks of affliction among them, as rending their garments, falling on the ground, and sitting on it, or covering their head with dust and ashes. (Job i. 20, 11, 12, 13 ; (Gen. xxxvii. 34), 35 ; 2 Kings or Sam. xxi. 1(b) The Greeks and Romans used the same marks of afflic- tion, upon the loss of a dear friend, or upou any other grievous mis- fortune. But Christians, as Fleury observes,5 applying these marks of sorrow only to spiritual things, used them as exterior demon- strations of that sorrow which worketh out salvation, that is, of compunction for sins. Fasting amongst the Jews was so naturally understood to express sorrow and affliction of soul, that these terms were used promiscuously. Whence the great fast of expiation, is called “ A day of afflicting their souls.” (Lev. xvi. 29, 31 ; Isaias lviii. 5.) And fasting, both in the old and new scripture, is usually joined expressly, and always understood, at least, to be attended with mourning and bitter sorrow, and its other customary demonstrations/ (Num. xxx. 14 ; 2 Kings or Sam. xii. 16 ; (Ps. xxxiv. 16) (Dan. ix. 3) (Joel ii. 12), 13; 2 Mac. xiii. 13; (James iv. 9)> 10.) Fasting, there- fore, without sorrow, is mere hypocrisy, and the sinner who can call to mind the evil he has done, without being touched with grief, can have no sense of his offences, no dispositions of penitence. As no greater calamity can befal a man than sin, he who nas committed so enormous an evil, ought to conceive the deepest grief ; which he will naturally express by the strongest tokens of sorrow. It is not fit for so grievous an offender to look up to God, whose authority he has affronted, without tears in his eyes, and a most sorrowful counte- nance ; nor to appear but in the most mournful posture and habit, with the most bitter expressions of grief and inward anguish, knowing that he deserves to be condemned to bewail his sin unprofitably in hell, where there is nothing “ but weeping, and wailing, and gnashing “ of teeth.”*1 This God himself requires. By the Prophet Joel

a See Leo of J uda. b Mauris dcs Cret . art 9. p. 80.

c See Bishop Patrick on Repentance and Fatting , ch. 8. p. 10.

d lb. ch. 8. p. 18.

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Ch. VI.]

he cadis upon sinners. (Joel ii. 12, 13.) “ Be ye converted to me in your whole heart, in 44 fasting, and in weeping, and in mourning” And by the Apostle S. James 2 44 Be afflicted, and mourn, and weep.” Let 44your laughter be turned into mourning, and your “joy into sorrow. Be ye humble in the sight of the Lord, and “ He shall exalt you.” (James, iv. 9, 10.) But what God re- gards in the penitent is the change of the heart, and the since- rity of its sorrow ; not the bare protestations or tokens, though these naturally flow from it; and contribute to entertain and increase it. Hence God declares again by Joel (Joel ii. 13) : “Rend your hearts 4? and not your garments ; and be ye converted to the Lord your 44 God.” And by Ezechiel : 44 Make to yourselves a new heart, and anew 44 spirit.” (Ezech. xviii. 32.) It is to this sincere conversion of the heart, that God invites all sinners, especially at the holy time of Lent. Now the" church, in mourning herself, for them, addresses to them, in his name, his tender invitations and promises, and thun- ders out his threats: now she daily raises. her voice louder and louder to rouze them from their lethargy : now all her devout children, in fasting, and in penitential weeds, pray and weep for them, to engage God to show them mercy, and by their tears and example to move them to weep and mourn for themselves. The trumpet has now sounded in Sion, proclaiming the tender of the divine mercy. The thunder of God’s vengeance rolls over their guilty heads, ready, if they persist rebellious to his voice, to break upon them, and destroy them. They stand upon the very brink of eternity ; and death, with the most dreadful horrors of hell, is even now at their gates. This summons is, perhaps, the last that will be made them. 44 Yet forty “ days, and Niniveh shall be destroyed.” (Jon. iii.) This threat, announced by a prophet, converted at once a proud great city, reek- ing in the abominations and filth of voluptuousness and pride. The church, by her ministers, now repeats the same to us in the name of God, and by his authority and commission. By forty days we may understand the short precarious remainder of our lives ; or especially, this present Lent, or eyen the beginning of it. For what right have we to imagine, that if we are deaf to this merciful .caH, God, who has already spared us preferably to thousands, whom he has cut off in the mean time in their sins, will not, in his just judgments, suddenly snap in two the thin thread. of our life, to punish our presumption and daring wilful impenitence ; qr by a still more terrible judgment, with- draw his most powerful graces, be silent to us, and abandon us to a reprobate sense, to a state of spiritual blindness and insensibility, in which miserable souls liveionJy to sin, and accumulate instead of one, many hells for a dreadful eternity ? We hope we have done penance.

* But has it produced worthy fruits ? Is it such as can give us any reasonable hopes, that by it we shall be so happy as to find mercy ? If we seem to have long since broke the bonds of sin, have we faith- fully executed all the conditions of our penance ? Our fervour should have been as great as that of a David or Magdalen, and if we had re- ceived the like assurances of pardon, we should still be bound by the law of the love and gratitude we owe to God, and the conditions of

lUf.

irs

peniteiicd itself, hever to forget that we have Mimed, and never to put an end to our tears and penance, but continually to increase them, as this will prove the fervour of our progress in the divine love so long as we live. Moreover, our daily infidelities, our failings in our ordinary actions, which after all our resolutions and endeavours are still full of sloth and imperfections, fiy in our faces, and reproach iis that we are not yet perfectly converted to out Ood : our self-love^ by which we seek ourselves even in our exercises of religion ; our in- ordinate attachments to a thousand objects of sense, on every side of us; the spirit, of the world, which discovers itself in all our affections and actions, cry out to us, that we have not yet entered seriously upon the great work of our conversion; are yet far from having made to God an entire and perfect sacrifice of our hearts, and from having corrected all our spiritual disorders. Now is the time for us to enter thoroughly into ourselves ; to destroy and do away, by the divine grace now abundantly offered, the very last remains and traces of all the sms and worldly lusts of our whole lives past: to break asunder all the bands of inordinate affections, which captivate our hearts to creatures* and attach us to any thing which is not God, or which is not loved, or feared in and for him au>Ue : to purge our hearts of all self-love, that bane of all true virtue, and to put the finishing stroke to the great work of our conversion, which out of sloth and spiritual blindness, we have hitherto left so very imperfect. It is a great work we have here upon our hands. We are totally to divest ourselves of the old man, and to put on the new, to become crucified to ourselves, and the world, and to form Christ, or his perfect spirit of humility, meekness, charity, and all other virtues in our hearts, by which we may bear his divine image, and be made heavenly, that no obstacle may remain in us, to the perfect reign of his grace and love, and to our being admitted at tne hour of our death Into the choirs of angels and saints in the kingdom of God, where nothing can make its appearance but what is spotless, perfect, and en- tirely aoly. At Easter we must be found a new pure paste ; must lbfe clothed with the spotless nuptial robe of .sanctity, adorned with the vaHety of all virtues, represented by the “ diverse colours * where- with the raiment of the King’s daughter is embroidered, (Ps. xliv. Hebr. xlv. 14,) that we may be worthy, by the divine Mercy, to take our place amongst the sons of God at his divine table. Tnus both the just and the sinner stand in need of penance. The church presses all persons at this time cheerfully to enter the ranks of her penitents, and by their fervour and constancy to cancel their debts, purge their sopls, die to their inordinate appetites, sanctify their lives, and ad- vance with large strides to perfection in all virtue. She displays be- fore our eyes the joys of heaven, and the terrors of the divine judg- ments,— encourages us by the example of Magdalen, and so many other fervent penitents; — she allures us by tender caresses, and af- frights us with the threats of the divine vengeance just ready to be executed upon impenitent sinners. As many voices as the Apostle made use of to his deaf children in the church of Corintn, so many does our tender mother die church, now make use of to draw

Ch. VI.] um. If §

our souls to God* But how often soever she changes her voice, and : varies her exhortations, it is always to cry out to us : “ Be converted to the Lord with your whole heart," To touch our hearts more powerfully, it is by the adorable blood and cruel torments of our ' dying Redeemer, that she conjures us to consider what we owe to | God and ourselves ; the things which are for our eternal peace, whilst mercy is still offered to us, whilst yet we have time which shortly will be no more. Rather it is Christ himself, who by the ' moyth of his ministers thus calls upon us from his cross, and by his ' sacred wounds and most precious death. Ah ! on this day of his ' mercy let us listen to his voice, and no longer harden our hearts. (Ps. , xciv.)* This summons of the divine mercy, may be the last we snail ‘ receive— nay, this Lent, even this day, may be the last of our lives. 1 We have no manner of security that the thin thread upon which our 1 life hangs, may not be broken any moment. Every minute may be 1 the last of our lives. There is yet a greater danger behind. Those who despise the greatest offers of God's mercy, and receive his grace 1 in vain or without fruit, provoke him to withdraw the like powerful means and opportunities, to be deaf in his turn to incorrigible sinners, upon whom he has tried such special graces gitkout success. . The disease of such as despise the remedy is desperate. We ihust lay J hold of the divine mercy when it is graciously offered.

“ Behold now the acceptable time — behold now the days of salva- ' ‘ “ tion.” (2 Cor. vi. 2.) This life is certainly the utmost period to whieh our day of grace can possibly be extended; from the words of St. Patil, and those of Isaiah, whieh he quotes, it is plain that even in ' life, God hath disposed certain reasons of greater favour and grace, which we cannot promise ourselves the return of at pleasure, and which it infinitely concerns us to make the best advantage of. Such is the present most solemn holy season. Now we particularly com- , memorate the sufferings of Christ, and his wounds plead loudly in our favour. Now the whole church in one common prayer and penance, ; unites her supplications, fasts, watchings, and tears in imploring mercy t for us* Our blessed Redeemer says : “ where two or three are ga- “ thered together in his name, there he is in the midst of them.’9 If the prayers of one small assembly of servants of God offer ah agreeable violence to him, and compel him to show mercy, what shall we say of the joint suffrages and affliction of his whole church together be- sieging him, as it were, to disarm his justice ? Will not tnese cries ‘ more forcibly engage his compassion than the prayers of Moses did by which the Lord was appeased, when he was bent upon destroying ' the people for their idolatry ? Whilst heaven is open to shower down the most abundant graces, and God is particularly inclined to show ! mercy ; whilst all the saints are interceding for us night and day with so great earnestness, what graces, what mercy may we not hope for, if we open our hearts to receive them ? The priests now mourn at the foot of the altar, and offer the spotless victim of propi- tiation for the sins of the whole world. They interrupt not their

* Hodie $i vocem ifus avdieHtj*, notito obduron Cerda vesfra.

180 LEWT. [Tb.V.

cries to God for mercy in the most melting strains of the Prophets, repeating with groans and tears : “ Spare, O Lord, spare thy people ; ‘‘and give not thine inheritance to be trodden under foot.” All holy religious persons of both seles, those angels of the earth, at this time redouble their ardour in their solitudes, setting no bounds to their austerities, and pouring forth their tears and prayers to God night and day, to move him to be propitious to them and to all sin- ners. All devout Christians in the world join them to the best of their power in these penitential exercises and dispositions— are assylu- ous at church, hearing the word of God, and attend the public sup- plications and duties of religion ; macerate their flesh with fasting and other severities ; employ much time at home, if their circumstances allow them, in the exercises of holy compunction, prayer, and devout meditation, or reading, and are careful in offering to God their labour and ordinary actions in a spirit of penance, and with great fervour. God seeing now his church in mourning, both priests and people weeping before him, is easily moved to have compassion on those who humble themselves in his presence, and deprecate his anger. Let us lay hold on this acceptable time, and conjure the Sovereign Judge whom we have offend^l, by the tender bowels of his mercy, to save and lift us up.

Some think the term of this fast long. But were it shorter, how could a penitent reap the advantages proposed in it ? How could such a change of heart as constitutes the very essence of a conver- sion, be wrought in sinners* according to the .ordinary course of things, and the general rules of Providence in the dispensation of his graces? Again, how could a solid proof of such a change be given?

What opportunity would many find of doing condign penance 5 or of grounding their souls in the habits of their happy change, in the practice of any one virtue, or in any victory over the least passion or vice ? A penitential course of this continuance, is an excellent and wholesome means of healing our spiritual disorders, and promot- ing the great work of our perfect sanctification. Our domestic enemy is subdued by the maceration of the flesh. How strong soever a fortress is, it will be easily reduced, if you can find the means of cutting off its provisions. How deeply soever vice has taken root in the soul, its strength will be weakened, and at length reduced bv holy fasting, compunction, watchfulness, and prayer. The soul which was worldly, is thus disengaged from its ties. He that was enslaved to his own will, and to the gratification of his senses, by an habitual

eractice of retrenchment and self-denial, learns to die to himself ; to ecome meek, humble, spiritual, and heavenly; to relish only spiritual things, and to find no true delight but in conversing with heaven. God also on his side, is liberal in bestowing his choicest graces, on those who with fervour make their application to him at this holy time. His treasures are immense ; and his mercy and beneficence can never be stinted in liberality. For as his bounty can never be drained, so nether can we set bounds to his gifts or mercy. The more we crave, and open our hearts to receive, the more will he be pleased in enriching our souls. What encourage-

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ment to fervour in exerting our utmost endeavours in all the means of our sanctification, which this holy season affords? Amongst far* vent penitents, no complaints are heard of the severity of the ffcst. 1 Nothing is perceived, but an holy emulation to outdo each other.

The term appears to them short. They find no severity in any austerities, because they have before their eyes the grace of pardon, by which they are rescued from the torments of hell, the victory over their passions, by which they are restor^ to the liberty of the saints, and the crown of immortal glory, which is the recompence of J their conflict. \

To run this career with fervour it behoves us above all things to begin well, to set out animated with the most perfect dispositions of ; penitence and holy zeal ; to extinguish in our hearts the reign of sin ; to consecrate our souls to God without reserve, and establish in them the most perfect reign of his grace and love. We must accompany Jesus in spirit into the desert, and as much as possible in his disposi- tions of burning zeal and divine love, and of hatred of all sin; we must unite our fast^nd prayers with his, begging to find acceptance only through him : we must be faithful in every duty of this time in every means of making our sacrifice entire, that no condition be wanting for the perfect sanctification of our souls. This grace we ' must .ask of God with great earnestness in the beginning, and in our daily supplications, during the Lent ; for which we may say the prose: Veni sancte Spiritus , the Miserere psalm, with the Our Father and Hail Mary ; invoking also the intercession of our guardian angel, patrons, and all the blessed angels and saints.

If we faithfully acquit ourselves of these duties, we shall happily celebrate the great feast of Easter with our divine Saviour, raised from the death of sin, victorious over our passions, pure in heart, * clean in mind and body, clothed with the bright and snining robe of virtue, loaded with the fruits of justice, penance, humility, meekness^ charity, and patience ; we shall share in the triumph and joy of his resurection ; shall reap its glorious fruits in our souls, and formed upon its model in the newness of life, and the renovation of our inte- rior man, shall advance daily in this path after him till we enter with him, and through him, into his glorious immortality.

CHAP. VII.

On Ash- Wednesday,

• The first day of Lent, called by the Fathers u the head of the fast,** was always kept by the church with great devotion and solemnity, whether, according to the discipline of different ages and places, Lent was of six, seven, or eight weeks.

It was the ordinary time for sinners entering a course of public canonical penance, into which they were initiated by the prayers of theJrishop with his clergy, and the imposition of his hands, amen he laicrashes on the heads of the penitents. This is the origin of tb^

* Caput Jyunli,

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[Te. V.

ceremony of putting ashes on our forehead* on this day, as an em- blem and exterior mark of the interior consecration of our hearts to the exercises of penance* It is not a superstitious practice ; but an holy ceremony used by the church from its most early times, and re- commended by the example of the patriarchs and prophets recorded in the holy scriptures.a The ancients, in the Eastern countries, ex- pressed deep grief and mourning in extraordinary calamities by rending their garner®, putting on sackcloth, lying on the ground, •strowing ashes or dust on their head, forbearing food and the like.

■ Thus the Mends of Job, seeing his affliction : “ lifted up their voice

* and wept, and rent every man his garment, and sprinkled dust upon < “ their heads, and sat down with him upon the ground in silence.”

(Job i. 11, 12, 13.) Nor are there wanting numerous examples of this custom fcmong other nations, as well as among the Jews and Arabians.

The servants of God used these signs chiefly as emblems of re- pentance, or declarations of their sorrow for sin, the greatest of all evils, and which calls for the deepest affliction* Holy Job, when he ! humbled .himself before God for his tod peremptory vindication of his own innocence, did it in the same manner that he had bewailed his ; affliction, saying : “ I reprehend myself, and do penance in dust and “ ashes.” (Job xlii. 6.) It is recorded of Joshua and the ancients of Israel, “ That they cast dust upon their heads,” (Jos. vii. 7,) doing penance in order to appease the Lord, incensed at the sacrilegious ftobbery committed by Achan at the taking of Jericho. The pro* phets often call upon the Israelites to put on sackcloth, and to bewail

■ themselves in ashes, when they exhort them to mourn for their Sins, ind seek to recover the divine favour by an hearty repentance.* {This, Jeremy advised the city of Jerusalem and the princes of Juda to do when Nebuchadonotor laid waste their country for their sins.

Sprinkle yourselves with ashes,” says he. (Jer. xxV* 34.) This {was practised by Judith, Esther, Mardocai, and Judas the Maccabee.

• Our Saviour mentions it as an emblem of penance, when he says of ■the inhabitants of Tyre and Sidon, that if he had wrought his min- ’ties among them, “ they would have done penance in sackcloth and

ashes.” (Matt. ii. 21.) Penitents, among the primitive Christians, were initiated and distinguished by this sign : whence they are called by Tertullian, “ Men covered with sackcloth, and marked with «< ashes ”c This epithet belonged to all Christians, because, as the same author expresses it : “A Christian is one born to penance.” It is not therefore an idle ceremony, but a token or mark that we are con- • secrated to the practice of severe penance for our sins. To receive this ceremony without the spirit and sentiments of penitence is no better than gross hypocrisy, disobedience, and mockery.

Dust and ashes are likewise a memorial or emblem of death, and hr£ here employed to put us in mind of our mortality, as appears ■from the words with which the priest accompanies this cerem^py :

• See Catech. MontpeL Bp. Patrick Oh Repentance and the Lent Fast, ch.

8’ ^Patrick, loc. tit. p. IB. f Concilia* If continent*.

unv.

Ch. VIII.]

« Remember, man, that dust thou art, and into dost thon shall re* “ turn.’9 A Christian religious life is defined by S. Basil, a constant meditation on death. The whole life of a Christian being nothing else but a preparation for that great tremendous passage, he ought never to lose sight of it in any action or undertaking. No conside- ration can more powerfully disengage our hearts from the world and vices, or excite us to fervent virtue, especially to the serious practice of penance, than that of death, its inevitable certainty, the absolute uncertainty of the time, and of the circumstances, and the infinite consequences of this most tremendous moment. Hence the church particularly recommends it to us at this solemn holy time, to engage us to examine seriously the state of our own souls, and as the first Step to make us enter in earnest upon a new life. The four last things, other general and particular motives of virtue, (especially of thos# virtues which our circumstances principally oblige us to study to improve our souls in it at this time,) and tne sufferings of Christ, ought to be the mpst familiar subjects of our devout meditations dur- ing the course of Lent.

CHAP. VIII.

On the Ancient Discipline of the Churchy relating to the Penitential

Canons.

Auhohtt God is pleased to promise pardon even for sins, into which, by a perfidious and ungrateful relapdt, Christians fall after baptism, if they return to him by sincere penitence. But he requires, as an essential ingredient or condition of this penance, a resolution or rincere disposition to undertake or bear some satisfactory, painful atonement, as some small voluntary phastisement of sin, and a pre- servative against the facility of relapses, to which too easy conditions might, by a dangerous abuse, have proved an encouragement or oc- casion. The sorrow of penitence is necessarily afflictive, and is every where spoken of as such. The stings which the penitent feels from the consciousness of his base ingratitude and perfidiousness, the shame of his enormous guilt, and his sharp grief wherewith his heart is wounded for having sinned against an infinite and most gracious God, work in him such a detestation of his criminal disobedience, as incline him to afflict and punish himself, and revenge the cause of his injured God upon his own body, in order to deprecate the anger and prevent the dreadful effects of theiustice of God. S. Paul thus mentions this disposition as the natural e fleet of a sincere sorrow for sin, and teal to remove it : “ The sorrow that is according to God worketh M penance stedfast unto salvation. For behold, this self-same thing u that ye were made sorrowful according to God, how greet careful- u nem doth work hi you ; yea, indignation ; yea, fear ; yea, desire; * yea, seal ; yea, revenge/* (2 Cor. viL 1 1,) in fathering pnniihmenle suitable to the offence. They mourned and afflicted themselves for the sin of the incestuous man, and eng^edc him to bnaaKU hhmejf with weeping, fasting, and other severities* because he had not before exercised this holy revenge upon himself. This is agreeable ie what

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[Tb. V.

the Apostle said in his first Epistle, that “ if we judged ourselves, we “ should not be judged of the Lord.” (1 Cor. xi. 31.) Where, speaking of the judgments of sickness, weakness, and death, which God had inflicted on several among them, he mentions the way to prevent his judgments being exercised upon them, by afflicting and chastising themselves, by fasting, mourning, and bewailing their sins, and thus being the avengers of their own crimes. These voluntary chastisements of our sins, with a change of life, are called by S. John Baptist the meet , or worthy fruits of penance , ( S. (Luke iii. 3),) as S. Chrysostom excellently expounds his words. Alter whom S. Gregory the Great writes as follows: “ It is one thing to bring- forth fruit ; “ another to bring forth worthy fruit, for he who hath not com- “ mitted unlawful things, may justly use those which are lawful ; but “ he * who hath done unlawful things, ought to deny himself even €i those which are lawful, in proportion to the unlawful which h#hath u given himself the liberty to enjoy. For the same fruits of re- “ pentance are not required of those who have offended little, and of “ those who have offended much.”® In* the same sense TertulHan laid down the great law to be observed in doing penance : “ If thy “ neighbour ask thee, Why art thou so afflicted, tell him I have “ sinned against God ; I am in danger of perishing eternally : there- “ fore I hold down my head in shame and confusion ; I macerate and u excruciate myself, that God, whom I have injured by my sins, may “ be reconciled to me.” &c.b Likewise S. Cyprian:0 “ Let the pen- “ ance bear a just proportion to the sin,” &c. And S. Ambrose, or whoever is the author of the famous Treatise or Exhortation of Pen- ance to the Lapsed Virgin : “ According to the weight of the guilt “ ought to be the measure of the penance. Thou must not repent u in words only, but in deeds, which may be thus done. If thou “ settest before thine eyes from what a sublime dignity thou art fal- “ len, and believest thyself to be upon the brink of utter darkness, “ where there is endless weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. “ When thou hast represented this to thyself by faith, then (since “ the soul that sins is sentenced to hell-fire, and there is no remedy “ after baptism but that of repentance), be glad to endure any afflic- “ tioh, auy labour, any hard treatment of thyself, if so thou mayest “ but escape eternal torments. Be thou thyself, if I may advise thee, “ the most severe judge of thine own offence. If the sinner would “ not spare himself, God would spare him. If he would put himself “ to short pain in this life, he might escape eternal torment in that to “ come. A deep wound must be searched to the bottom, and re- “ quires a sharp and' long cure. A heinous sin necessarily requires a “ severe satisfaction.” This is the language of all the ancient fathers, who perpetually entertain penitents on humiliations, confession, weep- ing, mourning, affliction, and neglect of their body, long prayers, fasting, alms, lying on the ground, wearing sackcloth, forbearing all assemblies of mirth, or worldly pleasures and the like : and repeat to them continually that great maxim : that the less they spare them

* S. Greg, in horn. 20 in Evang. b Tert. 1. de Poenit c, U .

f S. Cypr. 1. de Lapsis.

LENT.

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Ch. VIII. J

selves die more will God spare them. S. Paul followed this rule, with regard to the incestuous Corinthian, (1 Cor. v. 3,) though, being informed of his fervour, and moved by the prayers of the whole church of Corinth, he relaxed his penance, and gave him a full par- don in Christ , by a plenary indulgence. (2 Cor. viii.) However, no general canons of discipline were framed by the Apostles, to de- fine, by any settled rules, the measure of the penal injunctions to be laid on penitents, as appears from the history of the young man, who having been a captain of robbers, upon his repentance was admitted to a reconciliation by S. John Evangelist,* though doubtless not without undergoing a suitable penance. In the second century, roles and canons were laid down to settle this important point of dis- cipline according to the standing maxims of the church, with Regard to the obligation all sinners lie under of doing penance. This disci- pline of the canonical penance was in force in all parts, both of the Eastern and Western churches, in the second century, and is treated of at large in whole volumes by Tertullian, the oldest Latin eccle- siastical' writer ; by S. Cyprian, and others. We have extant the canonical Epistle of S. Gregory Thaumaturgus, in the East, drawn up in the year 250, so called, because in it he prescribes canons, or rules for prescribing a proportioned penance for different kinds of sins ; and the four different stages to be observed in the course of this penance are laid down. We have also, in that^nd the following century, the like Canonical Epistles of S. Dionysius and S. Peter of Alexandria, S. Basil, S. Gregory of Nyssa, and the penitential canons of many councils.1* In England, S. Theodorus, Archbishop of Can- terbury, and Egbert, Archbishop of York, published long Peniten- tials for the same purpose : though the penitential canons of several other English Saxon Bishops and churches have been inserted among them in all the present editions, so that it is often a hard matter to determine which are to be ascribed to them. Out of these collec- tions every Bishop selected those which made the rules for his diocese.

This severe discipline, though with some mitigations, in several places, maintained its ground, both in the Latin and Greek church, for the space of twelve hundred years. Humbert, the fifth general of the Dominicans, in 1277, mentions the solemn imposition of cano- nical penance, as practised when he wrote.c Hildebert, the learned and pious Bisliop of Mans, afterwards Archbishop of Tours, who died in 1134, speaks of the ceremony of expelling penitent sinners out of the churcn on the first day of Lent, as among the Hebrews the unclean were driven out of the camp of the people of God. We have a pathetic and beautiful sermon, which he addressed to such sinners, before they were turned out of the church, on that occa- sion.d In memory of this ancient discipline it is still the cus- tom in the cathedral church at Mans, for certain voluntary peni-

* Ena. Hist. Eccl.

b See these canonical Epistles of the Greek church, published by Bishop Beve- ride, in his Canones Eeriest* Grcecee, T. ii.

c Humbert, Serin, xln. d See inter Opera Hildeberti , ed. Ben,

Sena. 18, p. 297, and Hist. Literaire de la France, T. ii. p. 277.

tents to present themselves on Ash- Wednesday, to be then expelled, andf again reconciled on Maundy- Thursday.*

Penitents before Lent confessed their sins to the Bishop, or some of the priests approved by him for this function.

At Constantinople this confession was only made to the great peni- tentiary, till that office being abolished by Nectarius, upon account of a public scandal which had happened, every one was at liberty to make their confession to what approved priest they pleased.* Ne- vertheless, the laws of canonical obedience still . subsisted, c though with some insensible abatement in their severity. If the priest who received the confession, found any case to require canonical penance, the penitent was referred to the Bishop, or his great penitentiary, who qnjoined the term and conditions according to the prescription of the canons, took down their names in writing, and ordered them to present themselves at church on the first day of Lent. They accordingly appeared at the church door, barefooted, in a mean and torn garment, such was then the dress used for mourning. Having entered the church, they presented themselves to the Bishop, or his penitentiary fa his place, with their heads hanging down, their eyes often streaming with tears, and with all the outward expressions of guilt, and demonstrations of a sorrowful and dejected mind, and prostrat- ing themselves upon the ground, begged to be admitted to penance and absolution. They received firom the hands of the Bishop ashes to strew on their heads, and sackcloth to cover their bodies, and remained lying upon the ground, while the Bishop, clergy, and peo- ple kneeling, recited several penitential psalms, and long prayers over them, for the remission of their sins. The Bishop and priests laid hands upon them, to ratify their dedication of tnemselves to penance. Then the Bishop made them a pathetic exhortation, and in the close gave them to understand, that as God drove Adam out of Paradise for his transgression, so was he going to drive them out of the chuteh, for a time, bidding them to be of good courage, and labour strenuously in doing due penance, in hope of the divine mercy. Then he actually pushed them from him, and bade the infe- rior ministers expel them out of the church. The clergy following them to the door, repeated this responsory to them : “ in the sweat " of thy face shalt thou eat thy bread. For dust thou art, and unto u dust thou shalt return.”*1 Those who were guilty of public scandal- ous sins, were ordered to make the exomologesis,® or public confes- sion of them :f but not of all secret sins, as Morinus evidently mis- takes, this depending upon the discretion of the priest according to circumstances. Sucn an action would have been often scandalous

m Hist, liter, ib. T. ii. p. 371. b Orig. horn. 3, in Ps. xxxrii.

a. 6. T. i i. p. 688. c Socrates, Hist. 1. c. Sozom.

d Gratian. Disk 60, cap. 64. Vetus Penitentiale Roman. Burehard. Petit. Not in Pcenitent S. Theod. Cantuar. p. 21 to p. 79. Bona Rerum Litnrg. 1. ii. n. 7. 16, <tc.

* This Greek word, which signifies Confession, is often used both by the Greek and Latin Fathers, for the whole laborious course of penance.

f See many examples in Manaus, Lii.de Pcenit. c. 9, 10, and WitBSse, p. 690,691.

LMT.

18T

Ch. VIII.]

and sometimes dangerous to the penitent, and against the law of nature itself* That it was not necessarily or always done, is clear, from what Morinus himself takes^iotice of, and proves beyond con- tradiction,4 viz^ that many innocent of any crime, out of devotion voluntarily subjected themselves to a course of penance, such as the canons prescribed for tinners. *

This also appears from the canon of St. Basil’s canonical epistle to St. Amphilochius,b in which he says : “ It is forbidden by the Fathers “for an adulteress to be discovered by her penance, lest it should be “ an occasion of her death.”6 Nay, to avoid giving any suspicion to a jealous husband, though she passed the regular term of penance, she did not go through the different stages prescribed for that crime, but remained always among the Consittente* , as Balsamon explains this canon.4 S. Basil lays down the same rule for wilful murder,6 when some indiscreetly obliged all sinners to make a public confession of secret sins. St. Leo condemns their presumption, which he calls un- just, and contrary to the Apostolic rule, since it is enough to discover the guilt of consciences in secret confession to the priests alone/ Yet, for the greater humiliation of the penitent, where no incon- venience or scandal was to be apprehended, the priests sometimes eojoined the public confession of certain secret sins ; otherwise Origen could not say: “ Look carefully about to whom thou oughtest “to confess thy sin. Know first the abilities of thy physician. “ Whatever he shall say or advise, follow it. If he should see such “ to be tbe nature of thy disease, that it ought to be manifested in “ the assembly of the whole church for the cure and the edification of

6 Ib. 1. ▼. c. 7. n. 7.

4 S. Baa. ep. Can. ad Amph. Can. 64, T. ii. p. 771.

c Adultery by the Lex Julia de Adulterii g, enacted by Augustus, was punished with Relegation or banishment, without forfeiture of privileges, not with death as some modems have falsely understood it, whom Cujas refutes in lib. singul. Papin, de Adulterii* , ad 1. ii A Observ. 1. vi. c. 1. and 1. xx. c. 18. Selden think* adultery was not made capital before Justinian, ( Uxor. Hebr. 1. 3. c. 12,) but is mistaken. Constantine the Great ordered both parties, if convicted, to be punished with death. (Cod. Theodos. 1. ix. tit. 40. de Ptetiis , 1. 1,) which is still more evident in tbe laws of bis sons, Constans, ( Cod Theod. 1. ii. Tit. 36. Quorum apvelat. 1. 4. and Gothofred. Not. ib.) and Constantins. Nay Constans orders adulterers like parricides to be sowed in a sack, with a dog, acock, a serpent, and an ape, and drowned in the sea, or in a river. But this was soon brought back to beheading, as Constantine had enacted; for under Valentinian I« in 868, Cethegus, a senator, was beheaded for adultery by the law, Quamvi s (Cod de Adult.) as Axnmianus Marcellinua mentions. (1. xxviii. c. 1.) Majorian in the West, in 460; mitigated this severity by restoring the old law, which in- flicted only relation. In the East, Justinian leaves the law of Constantine for beheading, in force; as he declares, ( Novell . 134. c. 10. Auihent. Coll. 9. Tit. 17,) but restrains this to the man, and all who knowingly aid and assist him to commit the crime. For he commands the woman to be scourged and sent into a monastery. Posterior Emperors in tbe East, changed the punishment of death for adultery into bastinading, and cutting off the nose, which was confirmed by Leo the philosopher, 1. lx. Tit. 37. leg. 73. Harmenopulus, (1* 6. Tit. 2. n. 20, and n. 14,) who wrote his irpo%ctpoy vo/xdv, 260 years after the Basflicon. See the Constitution of Leo Phil. Const. 32. ad Calcem Corporis $ Juris ctvilis.

* Not. ib. 6 Ib. Can. 66, p. 766. See also his Regula brev. Interr. 229,

f 3. Leo. ep. 136. fid* 18. c. 2. p. #19.

188

LENT.

[Tb. V.

“ others, this is to be done with great deliberation, and by the advice “ of a skilful physician.”11 This also is manifest from St. Austin1* and others. Those always did their pqpance privately, who by perform* ing it publicly in all its parts, would have given occasion to strong suspicions, especially where crimes would have given scandal, or ex- posed the penitents to danger 8f their lives. Blit, as Fleury observes,' to see Christians fasting, praying, and prostrating themselves on the earth purely out of devotion, was then so common a sight, that no one formed any suspicion frbm it, nor thought of inquiring into the particular occasions. All during the whole term of their penance, lay on the bare floor, and fasted on bread and water often in the week according to their strength and the priest’s injunctions, refraining from all worldly diversions, and all entertainments and feasting, ab- stained from bathing, lived retired in painful laborious exercises, and assiduous humble prayer. On Sundays and at all religious assemblies they only made their appearance before the church door in their pe- nitential weeds, to throw themselves at the feet of the faithful who were entering the church, to beg their prayers ; some were admitted within the church before the holy mysteries or canon of the Mass, to make their prostrations, and receive the imposition of hands of the Bishop and clergy, and attend to the prayers which these recited over them. They were obliged, if able, to be very liberal in their alms/1 and fervent in all good works. Some canons in certain churches, command penitents to cut off their hair, or shave their heads, as another indication of their sorrow and mourning. Women were en- joined to wear a penitential veil, and either to cut off their hair, or appear with it dishevelled and hanging loose about their shoulders/ St. Jerom describing the penance of Fabiola, says : “ She stood in the " rank of the penitents, the Bishop, Priests, and people weeping with u her, she appearing with her hair disheyelled, her face, hands and “ neck, dirty/*f For not only the penitents took shame to them- selves, and expressed their sorrow with tears and all other demon- strations, but the whole church, with a compassionate fellow-feeling, shared in their grief, suffering with their suffering fellow-members, and weeping and mourning with them. Socrates represents to us in what manner this was done at Rome, saying : that not only the peni- tents prostrated themselves upon the ground with lamentation and wailing ; but that the Bishop meeting them in their proper station or rank, fell to the earth likewise with tears, whilst all the congregation wept with them. Then the Bishop rose up, and raised the penitents, and made the usual prayers for them, and so dismissed them from the church before the oblation of the holy mysteries was begun.1 No person, how great soever in the world, was exempt from the

• Orig. Horn. 2. in Ps. xxxvii. n. 6. T. ii. p. 688.

bSt Ang. Serm. 351. fol. Horn. 50. inter. 50. T. v. p. 1359.

• "Maura des Chr. § 36, p. 163. d S. Cjpr. de L&psia, p. 135.

• Cone. Agathen. can. 15. Cone. Toletan. 3. can. 12. S. Opt&t. 1. 2, pp. 69 and 61. S. Amor, ad Virgin. Laps. c. 8, <fec.

f St. Hier. ep. 30. in Epit. Fabiotae.

i Socrates Hist. 1. vii. c. 16.

Chi VIII.] LENT. 189

common rules of doing penance. The example of Theodosius, one of the greatest princes that ever wore the imperial diadem, is an in- stance : Fabiola, one of the most illustrious and richest young ladies in Rome, having been divorced from her debauched husband on ac- count of his repeated adulteries, took a second husband, imagining that not condemned by the gospel which was allowed by the imperial laws; but being soon instructed in the obligation of the holy Christian law on this head, she renounced her unlawful second mar- riage, and for her fault subjected herself at the gate of the Lateran basilic in the sight of all Rome, to the severe discipline of canonical penance, with tnat compunction and fervour of which St. Jerom has left us a moving description drawn with his masterly pen.* The first day of Lent was the ordinary time for entering upon a course of ca- nonical penance : but it might be imposed in any other season. S. Ambrose put the Emperor Theodosius under this discipline at Christmas. The times assigned for the course of each penitent were longer or shorter, according to the enormity of their sins, and the different usages of churches. Those penitential canons which are still extant, differ considerably from one another ; but the more ancient are generally the more severe. St. Basilb allots two years for theft, seven for fornication, eleven for peijury, fifteen for adultery, _ twenty for murder, and the whole life for apostacy.

The term of canonical penance was usually divided into four dif- ferent stages, according to which there were in the church four differ- ent orders of penitents, called the weepers , the hearers , the oroj- tratorsy and the co-standers, or those that prayed in the church standing.*

As to the weepers, S. Gregory Thaumaturgus says,*1 u The place “ of the mourners is without the gate of the church, where the sinner “ must stand, and beg the prayers of the faithful as they enter ” And S. Basil,0 “ The first year they are to weep before the gate of “the church.” They were to come to the door of the church, at the hours of prayer, to stand there clothed with sackcloth, to have ashes on their heads, and not to cut their hair. In this posture they endeavoured to excite the divine compassion, by their humiliations and tears, and employing also the intercession of the faithful, they besought all who entered the church to have pity on them and to pray for them. Accordingly they did so ; and the whole church in ner public offices, and in the Mass, always prayed for penitents in par- ticular, as she still doth in the time of Lent. Penitents in this first stage are often mentioned as standing in the open air — they were however, allowed to stand in the porch which was covered, though without the door. But there were some, who for more enormous crimes were forbidden to take shelter in the porch, or even to enter the courts or yards belonging to the church/ These Were

* St. Hier. ep. ad Oceannm de Epitaphio Fabiolae, p. 657.

b S. Basil, ep. 3. Canon ad S. Amphil. can. 56, 58, 69, 61, 64, 73.

c Called in Greek, vpoeicXalovTtCj dxpomfuyo 4, vwowi stovtic, and owtt&fuvou By the Latins, Flentes, dudientes, Prostrati , and Gmsistentes.

* Can. ii. • Can. 32. see can. 55, 67, 58, 59, 60, 64, 66, 75. p. 324.

S. Greg. Thanxn, c. 1. £ A true .

190

IiX5T<

[T*.V.

called JEfyemantes, or exposed to the severity of the winter and other seasons* Thus the ancient Council of Ancyra in 315,* speaking of those who have committed uncleanness with beasts, or who by scan- dal have drawn others into sin, or spiritual lepers infecting others with the contagion of hell, orders them to pray with those who are banished at a distance from the church, and pray exposed to the in- clemency of the weather .b This denotes an extraordinary punish-

ment. Beveridge and Dodwel explain it of being ranked among the demoniacs, and those that were mad, which certainly was a great se- verity. But those that were mad were ordinarily incapable of prayer ; and a passage in Tertullian leads us to understand this term of a class of penitents in the first rank. For speaking of the degrees and ma- lignancy of heinous offences, and the discipline of the church in chas- tising them, he says : there are some impious furies of lust, fur trans- gressing all the laws of nature, which are monsters rather than vices, for which sinners were expelled not only from the doers of the church, but from all covered places belonging to it.c

The second class of penitents was that of the hearers . After having passed through the first ranks, and finished the term prescribed them among the weepers, with edification and fervour, they were re- ceived by the Bishop or penitentiary, into the second order, which was the first of those who had the privilege of entering the church. These were allowed to stay to hear the instructions and sertnon ; but were obliged to depart before any of the prayers were begun, with the rest, (catechumens, and others,) who went by the general name of hearers . They stood near the door, or in the lowest part of the church. S. Gregory Thaumaturgus assigns them their station6 in the Narthe x (called sometimes in Latin Vestiindum, i. e. an inner porch, or the lowest part of the church.' Here they stood with the catechu- mens of the lowest rank, and were dismissed with them before any prayers begun. S. Basil says/ they were hearers only, and not per- mitted to be present at any pari of the public office. Hence insthe Apostolical Constitutions^ among the ceremonies of the public office it

* Cone. T. i. p. 1455. Can. 17.

b Hfemnntety in Greek x<i/*a£d/ifvoi. Some understand this of demoniacs, who are so called by many modern Greeks and Translators, and in the title of the prayer for Energumens in the present Greek Eochologium (Goar. p. 724). And thus is the term expounded by Bp. Beveridge, (Not. in Can. ii. Cone. Nicten. n. 4. p. 72.) And Dodwel (Diss. 1. in Cypr. p. 4.) gives this sense to the word Clidome i»i in St. Cyprian’s Epistles, which he thinks contracted from Clvdoni- zomeni xtlf*aZ°H-tV0 1 °f the same import with and used by St.

Amphilocinus and S. Chrysostom for persons distracted or possessed with an evil spirit, whom the Latins called Maniaci and Lyvtphatici. To be ranked with tnese was a great punishment. But it is clear from Tertullian (de Pudic. c. 4.) that this name was given to a particular class of penitents among the fVeepen, or in the first rank, who were not suffered to enter the very courts or yards be- fore the church. See this proved by Albaspinseus Observ. in Can. 17. Cone. Ancyr. Card. Bona Rerum Litnrg. 1. L c. 17. n. 6. Snicerus, Thesaur. Series. v. XtLpa&utvoi, T. ii. pp. 1507, 1508.

c Tert. 1. de Pndicitia, c. 4. d Can. 11.

® Churches often had only two parts, the sanctuary or chancel for the priests and clergy, and the court or Atrium for the laity, as Mo lines observes (L vL c. 1. de PmnH .) Then the lower part of this court or nave was called narthex.

5 S. Bas. ib, Can. 75. See S. Greg. Nyssen. Can. 3.

ZJBITTk

cju vm.]

is mentioned, tha?th$ Deaeon always proclaimed as soon as the ser- mon was ended : “ Let none of the hearers, let none of the unbe- “ lievers be present.”4

The third rank of penitents was that of the kneeler s, or prosta- tors, who stayed in the church whilst certain prayers were* said for them ; but remained all the time on their knees or prostrate. They also received the imposition of hands from the bishop and priests.® The forms of several of these prayers are recorded in the Apostolical Constitutions.0 The station of these penitents was towards the upper end of the Narthex ;d and they went out with the catechumens of the second rank.

The fourth class of penitents were the consistent , or co-standers, who joined the faithful in prayer to the end, and stood up with the rest on Sundays, &<%, but were not allowed to make their offering, or "communicate.*

S. Basil orders for wilful murder, four years among the weepers, then five among the hearers afterward seven among the prostrators, and lastly, four among the co-standers. For adultery, four in the first class, five in the second, four in the third, and five in the last. For fornication, seven years ; viz., two in the first, two in the second, two in the third, and one in the last, or that of the co-standers. For theft, two years ; for peijury ten years ; plundering the graves of the dead, ten years ; for incest, the same as for murder ; for divina- tion ten years ; for apostacy, the whole life among the weepers, to be allowed to receive the communion only at the article of death. He allows some mitigation in favour of those who sinned only by com- pulsion, or grievous fear, and of those who were their own accusers. S. Gregory of Nyssa, orders for simple fornication, nine years ; for adultery, that term doubled ; for murder, twenty-seven ; for apostacy, the whole life, Ac. S. Peter of Alexandria prescribes only forty days for those who yielded under the seventy of torments, and speedily returned to God with perfect compunction.

When sinners had given proofs of the sincerity of their conversion, and gone through the stages of penance, according to the rules of discipline established in tne church, they received a recondliatory absolution. They were brought to the altar in sackcloth, the habit in which they had performed their penance, and there bathed in tears after solemn prayers, were absolved by the Bishop/ This was some- times^performed at the bottom of the chancel near the pulpit, in the view of all the people.* Absolution was always given in a solemn form of words, with imposition of hands by the Bishop, h or peni- tentiary, and other priests. Maundy Thursday was the ordinary day

£ Nequis Audientium , Nequis Infidetium, Cons tit. 1. viii. cap. 5. b Cone. Laodic. Can. 19. S. Chrys. hom. 18. in 2 Cor. A hom. 71. in Matt Ac.

* Const Apost. 1. viii. c, 8. A 9. d S. Greg. Thaum. can. 11.

* Cone. Ancyr. Can 19. Cone. Nic. Can. 11, 12. Cone. Ancyr. Can. 4, 5.

' Cone. Tol. i. Can. 2. S. Optat 1. ii. p. 67. S. Hier. Dial, contra Lucifer, c. 2.

* Cone. Carthag. 3. Can. 32. Cod. Afric. Can. 43. See Albaapinaeua, Not in Cone. Carth. 3. Can. 32.

k S. Cypr. ep. 12. alias 17* ad Plebem. pt 39, S. Optat 1. ii. c. 20 p. 44. Con- stit Apostol, 1, ii, c. 18.

LENT.

192

[Tb. V.

for the penitents to receive this solemn absolution,^ whence it is still pronounced by the Bishop with great ceremony at the altar on this day at Paris, and in many other places. Though this was some- times done on Wednesday,® Good Friday, or some other day in Holy Week, (ft at some other time. The Archdeacon having represented to the bishop that this being a proper time for clemency, it was rea- sonable to bring back the strayed sheep into the fold. The arch- priest also interceded for the penitents, and gave his testimonial that they were duly disposed, and worthy to be reconciled. For to him belonged to examine them during the time of their penance. Then the Bishop made them a suitable exhortation, putting them in mind of the mercies of God, and of that newness of life in which they were obliged to live for the time to come, requiring them in token of their sincere resolution, promise and engagement so to do, to hold up their hands.0 When they had thus renewed their pur- poses, and the declaration of their contrition for their sins which they nad confessed, the Bishop pronounced Jhe sentence of absolution. Then they put off their penitential weeds, shaved, trimmed, and dressed themselves, and joined the rest of the faithful in all exercises of devotion, and received with them the holy communion.*1

The severity of this discipline of canonical penance, began to suffer some mitigations from the 7th century, as appears from the peniten- tial of St. Theodoras of Canterbury.® In the 11th century they be- gan to be frequently redeemed, and the austerities commuted for other less painful good works, especially for long and austere pil- grimages to Jerusalem, the tombs of the Apostles, &c., for engaging to serve in the crusades, &c., and afterwards for other more easy practices of piety, &c.f

Bishops had always been accustomed to relax the severity of this discipline, by granting indulgences on certain extraordinary occasions, as when the penitent showed an extraordinary fervour,* at the joint prayers of the whole church, h upon the breaking out of any persecu- tion, when the faithful stood in particular need of the sacraments for courage and grace to stand their ground ;* also at the intercession of martyrs and confessors, though S. Cyprian found himself often obliged to refuse such petitions, when there was no sufficient cause for grant- ing the indulgence desired, pnd when they would have only tended to enervate the discipline of penance, and would not have satisfied the divine justice, or given a peace conformably to the divine laws, and which would have been ratified in heaven.

• S. Tnnoc. 1 . ep. i. ad decent c. 7. S. Hier. ep. ad Ocean, in Epitaph. Fabiolse, Ac. b S. Ambros. ep. 33. ad Marcellin. Soror. Ac. c S. Elig. horn. 8 A 11.

d See Fleury, ch. 36. p. 224.

. * See Morinns de Pcenit 1. vi. c. 27. A Petit in S. Theodor. Cant T. ii.

' See Morin. 1. x. c. 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21.

s Cone. Nic®n. Can. 12. Cone. Ancr. Can. 5, 22, 25. Cone. Herd, (of Lerida) Can. 5. Cone. Calced. Can. 16. S. Basil M. Can. 74. S. Greg. Nyss. ep. Cap. ad Letoi, Ac.

h (2 Cor. ii. 7), 10, S. Ang.

1 S. Cypr. ep. 54. ad Corn. 1. de I*psis, p. 128. ep. 10. al. 16. ad Cler. p. 37. ep. 11. al. 15. ad Martyr, p. 34.

CL VIII.] lint. 193

In danger of death, absolution Was given to penitents ; but if they recovered, they performed the entire course prescribed by the canons.

Idolatry, murder, and fornication, were chastised with particular severity, and on that account are called the canonical crimes. But under these general heads were comprised all other sins which be- longed to each species. As under the first, divination, and the vari- ous kinds of superstition : under the second, all grievous personal in* juries against others, according to the judgment of the bishop or priest : under the last, every sin of impurity. Many are distinctly specified in several penitential canons. In churches, and in cases where the canons diu not descend to particulars, the determination of the term and manner of the penance depended upon the discretion of the Bishop, who had an eye to the decision of the canons with respect to the capital sins of that species. S. John CUmactis insists on the extraordinary enormity of sins of impurity from the severity with which , the canons rank them with idolatry and murder.* In prescribing the penance, a regard was had not only to the enormity of the sin ; but also to the difficulty of the cure* the penance being both a remedy and a chastisement.

Besides the. three chiefest canonical crimes, other sins were sub* jected to canonical penance, as appears from the ancient canons, es- pecially those which are diffusive, and descend to a detail.5 Though all the tables of canons left many things to the decision of the BishopS| giving only rules which might serve to direct . them.

Anthony Arnaud,c the judicious and learned F. Le Brun,d and seme others, are persuaded, that all mortal sins were subjected to a canonical course of penance, though some only of three days ; conse* quently, that no one in a stale of mortal sin was ever allowed to assist at Mass. This they, infer from a passage of St. Dionysius the Areo- pagite, or whoever was the author of the book “ On the Celestial “ Hierarchie,” who says : “ That demoniacs, who, by their corporal “ possession, are in some degree under the power of the devil in “ their corporal organs, are not suffered to assist at the, divine mys- “ teries ; and much more all those, who, by being in a state of sin, “ are spiritually and much worse enslaved under nis tyranny. But “ others think,* that for some mortal sins, absolution was given with- “ out any canonical course of public penance.” For St. Gregory of Nyssa/ wonders how covetousness nad been passed over by the Fathers, without any legal regulation of canonical penance* . And St. Basil writes :* “ He who has taken usury, if he gives his unjust gain u to the poor, and is cured of that vice, may be admitted to the “ priesthood.” He therefore did not undergo public canonical pe- nance. The Council of Nice admitted the Novatians,5 and the Council of L&odicea all heretics without canonical public penance.1

* S. Joan. Clim. £r. 15. Bibl. Patr. T. ri.par. 2. p. 269 <& 305.

b See the Collections of ancient penitential Canons made by S. Charles Borro- mseo, Sylvius, the author of La Pratique de Verdun .

* L rur la frrquente Communion. d Explic des Liturgies,

* So. Nat. Alexander Ssec. 3. diss. 6. T. in. p. 687.

' S. GrxNySs. Can. 6. T* i* p« 958. f S. Basil, Can. 14* T. fi. P« 765.

k Con. Nic. 1 Can, 8. \ Can. 7.

LBWT.

194

In this case, indeed, it was presumed that many had been only ma- terial heretics, that their hearts had already been in their ^posi- tions sincerely open to conviction, and that their errors had not sprung from Obstinacy, malice, envy, pride, covetousness, libertinism, human respect, sloth, or other passions : in short had not been wilful and obstinate, so as to have incurred any mortal guilt before God.* As to the authors and ringleaders whose conduct had been so obnoxious as to carry guilt on their foreheads, it was esteemed a great part of their satisfaction, if, by their humility, labours, and penance, they brought back to the truth those whom they had seduced.

Secret sins were subjected to this canonical penance, though not ordinarily, as has been said, to any public confession : for the canons make no distinction of pubhe and secret sins. S. Basil shows adul- tery, though secret, to have been liable to the same penitential term, as if it bad been pttblic.b And it appears evident of other sins from the same Father,6 from the Council of Eivire,d St. Gregory of Nyssa,* St. Gregory Thaumhturgus,f St. Ambrose, g St. Augustin,b &c. And is proved by the learned French Bishop Aubepine, or Albaspinfeift/ Morinus,k Natalis Alexander,1 Petavius, and the ve- nerable servants of God, the Cardinals Bellarmine and Baronius. But the fervour Christians being much abated in the East, and

Eobably no one undertaking such courses of austerities out df vo- ntary devotion, so that a canonical penitential course seemed a public confession in general of some grievous sin; this discipline be- gan to be chiefly restrained to public sips in the seventh century, which mitigation seems to have been brought by S. Theodorus of Canterbury, from the Greek church into England : from which time, In most churches, only private penances were ordinarily enjoined for secret sins, but proportioned to that which was public, prescribed by the- canbns. Among the Greeks, even to this day, though ignorance kiid degeneracy Of manners have entirely disfigured their discipline, it iS the custom for priests to order sinners for certain cases to re- frain for 4 Certain time from approaching the holy communion, doubtless for ihe practice of penitential austerities.® St. Charles Borrorirtced exhorts confessors to have an eye to the penitential canons iri prescribing penances in confession, for which reason he 'published an abstract of many such canons,11 a compilation from the ancient penitentials. ' - " v -

Public penance was, as all agree, a perpetual irregularity, or bartfe the person being ever admitted to holy orders. Whence some, who think all mortal sins were subjected to canonical penance, say that no

* S. Aug. ep. ad Glor. Eleus. b S. Bas. ep. 8, Canon.

e S. Bas. Can. 61. d Con. Eliber, Can. 76. • Njrss. Can. 4.

f S. Greg. Thaum. Can. 18. T. ii. ed. Bever.

r S. Ambr. 1. i. de Pcenit. c. 16. b S. Aug. Serm. 351. ol. 50. inter. 50.

1 Albasp. Not in Can. 32. Cone. 3. Carthag.

* Morin, de Poenit 1. ii. c. 5. 1. v. c. 9. 1. x. c. 17.

i Nat Alex. Diss. 6. qu.* 2. in Saec. 3. Hist Eccles. See also Witasae de Poenit p. 708, contra Jao. Petit Dies. 2. in S. Theodor. Cantnar. T. it p. 61. & Sirmund. in Hist Poenit. public ft,

“-See Goan in fiucholog, » S. Carr, Borr, Instruct. Confess.

LENT.

195

CL VIII.]

one who was conscious of having ever forfeited his baptismal inno- cence by n^ortal sin* could ever be promoted to holy orders,; on which see the rigorous dissertation of Cardinal D’ Aguirre. A bishop, priest, or deacon, who fell into any sin for which canonical penance was prescribed, was deposed, and deemed irregular for his whole life : nor could this irregularity be ever dispensed with, or the person be ever rehabilitated for the exercise of any sacred functions of his stated This deposition and irregularity being itself a perpetual penance, no bishop or priest could be compelled to undergo the canonical penance.b And the contrary practice of the Donatists was severely reprehended by St. Optatus0 and the whole Catholic church, as absolutely contrary to her general and perpetual discipline.

Public canonical penance could never be given more than once, as all monuments of ecclesiastical antiquity proclaim.4 The reason which the Fathers allege was, lest a facility might prove an encourage- ment to relapsing sinners, and lest it should open a door to false or imperfect conversions, of which easy relapses are a sign.

But those who having once done penance, had the misfortune to relapse, were not abandoned to despair. On the contrary they were strenuously Encouraged to place a firm hope in the divine mercy, and to continue in the most fervent practice of penance to their death* As for leaving them abandoned to despair, St. Augustine says s° “ Who amongst us ever fell into such a phrenzy ? May God pre- “ serve all from such a barbarous and sacrilegious madness.” Pope Siricius explains the discipline of the church with regard to them ia the following decree : “ As to these, because they are no more “ allowed the suffrage of canonical penance, we decree, that they join “ the faithful within the church in prayer only, and that they assist, 11 though undeserving, at the celebration of the mysteries. But that “ they live for ever banished from the Lord's table, that by this punish- “ ment at least they may be stirred up to deep compunction, and “ punish themselves for their sins, and give example to others. Yet “ when they begin to depart going to the Lord, we order that by all “ means they be strengthened with his viaticum by the. grace of “ communion

From this decree it is clear, that by the most approved discipline

•See this demonstrated by Morinus (1- iv- c. 14, 1. v. c. 11.) Lupus (T. iv. Scholior. in Can. 6. Apostolicorum, p. 590,) and above all Cardinal D’Aguirre. (Dissert. 10, p. 28, 32, 52, 74, 76.)

b Morin us (1* hr* c. 12,) and Witasse, (T. ii. de Pcenit p. 628,) imagine this exemption of the higher clergy from public penance, to have only been intro- duced in the fourth century, and that for the three first centuries bishops and priests underwent it like others, besides their degradation. But St. Optatus and St Leo call this exemption, the perpetual and constant custom of tne church. The example of Natalis, a Bishop, (Euseh. 1. v. Hist c. ult.,) and some others only show that some voluntarily subjected themselves to that law, or they are to be understood of private penance.

e St. Optat. 1. i. n. 24, 1. ii. n. 26. S. Leo, ep. 2, (ol. 92,) p. 407. S. Aug. 1, L de Baptismo contra Donatistas, c. 1.

4 See Tertullian, 1. de Pcenit. c. 5. S. Ambrose 1. ii. de Poen. c. x. St Aug. f$. 153, ol. 54, (fee. e S. Aug. ep. 153, T. ii. p. 526.

r Siricius, ep. 1. ad Himerium, T. ii. Cone. p. 1019.

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of the chufth, it was always commanded that ho person at the article of death should be deprived of the benefit of absolution, and' even of the holy cotnmumbh, if he asked it with signs of a sincere conversion to God:* which is confirmed by the first General Cohntil of Nice, ih the following words : " Concerning those Who are at the article of death, the ancient and exact law shall be observed, that ho one be " deprived of the last, and most necessary viaticum. In general, to " every one in his last passage, the Bishop shall give it, after having " tried him by examining his dispositions.”5 Hence Pope Innocent I«c declares, with regard to those who pretended that absolution is not to be given to certain pehitents in their last" passage: “We " tremble with horror to think that any one Can be capable of so " great hardness and impiety. What is this but to add death to death, "and barbarously to murder his soul which fe departing unabsolved.” Whkh words are inserted in the canon law.

Though the severity of this discipline of canonical penance be now disUSedi* still sin is1 the same, ancf tne nature, law, and conditions of peritoce, are the featrte. For we cannot have received a new gospel, or have learned another road to heaven : we have received no 'new nbr more easy means of appeasing the' divine justice which we have provoked by bur sins. We must then study in the rules of this ancient discipline, to proportion our remedies to the depth of our wounds : not to spare ourselves in the' practice of necessary mortifi- cation 5 and especially to excite in our hearts the most perfect spirit of compunction, and consecrate this time to tears and assiduous prayer. To stir up these dispositions in our hearts, the churchy by

• St Cyprian, indeed (ep. 52, ad Antonian. Fello 5$, p. 248,) forbids those to receive the communion and peace who did not ask it before their last sickness, giving this reason :44 Because the fear of death extorts this desire, not sincere

* repentance, does, pa deserve to receive this comfort in death, who did. not " think in the time of his health, that he was to die.” v But he seems only to speak of the canonical absolution from public penance, snch .as Deacons could give by a special commission, or he must be understood of the holy Eucharist The same seems to be the meaning of the ancient Council of Elvire in Spain, (Can. 1, 2,3, 11, 12. 66. 73,) which forbids those who had lapsed into idolatry or incest ; and to informers and slanderers, and bauds or procurers to be admitted to communion, even at their death. If absolution was meant it could only be for a terror to others, not to encourage despair. But even the refusal of the holy Eucharist at death, if the dying person gave marks of repentance, was contrary to the general and most approved discipline. Such certainly was the inhuman law of state in France, (never approved by the clergy,) by which criminals con- demned to death were denied the benefit of confession and absolution, till at the request of the clergy it was abolished by Charles VI. in 1396. The custom still subsists in that kingdom of refusing the holy Eucharist or viaticum to criminals who are to be banged, out of a false pretence of respect for so great a sacrament : a pretence which the church has never authorised, and it is to he wished, the practice was abolished, out of Christian charity and holy zeal. Though the church might establish such a custom for certain extraordinary cases, “not in 44 despair of pardon ; but out of zeal for maintaining the vigour of discipline to nse the words of St. Austin. (Ep. 185. ol. 50. ad Boni&c.)

* 5 Cone. Nicen. 1. Can. 13, T. ii. Cone. p. 42. See Cone. Carthag. 4. can. 7S. T. ii. Cone. p. 1205. Cone. Arkus. 1. Can. 3. T. iii* 3. Cone. p. 1448. S. Nyssen, ep. Canonic, ad Letoinm, Can. 2, <fee.

• Ep, 2. Cone, T, ii, p, 1619, and Cap, Jgnovimtu Causa 2 7, de Pcenit,

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the ashes we receive, puts us in mind of death, which lies in wait like a thief to surprise us when we least expect it. Also by this ceremony we are solemnly dedicated to the practice of penance, and bear its badge as if we were clad with sackcloth. With what fervour ought we to run its career, uniting in spirit our weak endeavours with the sufferings of our divine Redeemer, and carrying the ensigns of his cross and precious wounds in the mortification of our flesh, that dying to the old man, we may be transformed into his image, and renewed by and through him. A Christian must be all fire, and full of zeal to sound and cleanse all the corruption of his heart, to repair by works of penance, all the remains of sin, and all the havock it has made in his soul, to destroy its empire there, to weaken concupiscence, subdue the passions, and form in his heart the true spirit of Christ, by all virtues of which he is the perfect model, especially humility, meekness, charity, mercy, the spirit of prayer, and holy zeal. Not only the load of our own debts, and the necessity we lie under of subduing our passions, call uppn us. to do penance : but the sins of the whole world, and the chastisements which, hang over it, increase our obligation. Fellow-members must feel each other’s miseries and dangers, and look upon themselves as charged with each other’s burthens. . For Achan’s sacrilege the . whole people Aid penance. Every one must be penetrated with a feeling compassion fox the dis- orders of the world ; must weep, sigh, and humble himself for them, making up with all the faithful one body, of which Jesus Christ is the head ; he must look upon every one’s wounds as his own, and take part in them, and implore the divine mercy for all. These sighs and geoatre and compassion are a duty so inseparable from Lent, as to make a part of all the prayers and offiees of the church. Hqw many sinners have been rescued from eternal perdition, and how many public calamities have been averted by the prayers and fasts of the church ? Men, certainly, had never greater reason to dread the weight of the di- vine anger than in the present age. . The evils under which the world groans, and the scourges with which God afflicts Christendom on every side,, ought . to excite us to avert his judgment and just vengeance, aud labour by our tears and fasts to appease his anger. Not to insist on the temporal calamities, though even, these are the chastisements of sin, and manifestations of the divine indignation, can we behold without floods of tears the spiritual blindness and miseries which overspread the face of the universe, and seem to pre- pare the way to that great defection from the. faith,' of which Christ said; “ When the Son of man shall comes do you think he shall find M faith upon earth ?’ The frightful growth of impiety, hrreligion, and downright infidelity ; the oyerfiowings of vice which has opened its very floodgates, and publicly set up its standard both in the cities and in the country, so as to leave little trapes of virtue in the Hyes of the generality of Christians, and to banish the holy maxims of the gospel out of their hearts, substituting in their room those of the, world which it so severely condemns. If we have any seal for the divine \ honour, which we see every day so outrageously injured; or if we - have -any oL the spiritual beauty, JO' any joy in. thp exaltation

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of the church of Christ, any bowels of affection for our neighbour, and desire of his salvation, why do we not clothe ourselves in sack- cloth, cover our heads with ashes, and in tears, watching, and fasting, implore the mercy of God, who in his indignation has abandoned so many Christian souls a prey to their lusts and pride, and made them a laughing-stock to devils ? Moses was so moved to see the anger of God kindled against his people, that he prayed even to see himself blotted out of the book of those who were to enter the promised land, provided God would spare them. St. Paul prayed to be him- -self an anathema, if that could have been a means of procuring the salvation of his brethren, the Jews. The saints, whose lives were so innocent and so holy, imputed to their own faults and sloth, a share of the public guilt which armed the anger of heaven against mankind, and set no bounds to their fervour in doing penance in order to move God to mercy ; and shall we, who have so great reason to fear that God’s anger is kindled against the world in part, on account of our sins, remain hardened and insensible amidst the arrows of divine Vengeance ? Shall we see so many souls perish without using our utmost endeavours to engage the divine mercy to rescue and save them, and to avert those judgments in which we deserve to be in- volved with them?

CHAP. IX.

On the First Sunday in Lent .

©if this day the church sets before our eyes the holy retirement and fhst of Christ in the wilderness, to put us in mind of our obligation of striving to form our interior dispositions and spirit upon this divine model, and though we cannot fast as he fasted for us, that we may imitate him as we are able, and according to our strength, to use the Words of S. Gregory Naeianzen.

Our divine Redeemer entered upon this extraordinary fast imme- diately after his baptism, to show us with what care we are bound to preserve and Strengthen the treasure of grace after we have received It. He fasted and prayed before he was tempted, to teach us how We are to arm ourselves against the assaults of the enemy : it was before he produced himself to the world, in his public ministry, that be made this wonderful retreat, setting us an example also in what manner we ought earnestly to sue for the divine blessing before we undertake any considerable enterprise, and to proportion our prepara- tion and endeavours to the importance of the work. The exercises be recommends to us in the desert, are chiefly holy retirement, mortifi- cation, penance, and prayer.

Immediately after his baptism, before he was tempted, and before be manifested himself to the world by his preaching and miracles, ■ be withdrew into the wilderness. By flying from the world we shun r many dangerous occasions of sin, of vanity, and loss of time, to Which its slavery unavoidably exposes us. Entire solitude is indeed ' a state to which very few are caMed, and in which others, for want .of necessary fervour, would often find the most dangerous occasions

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of sloth, and become their own worst tempters. But every Chris- tian is bound with great watchfulness to shun the dangerous amuse- ments of the world, its poisonous pleasures and entertainments, its sloth and idleness, the hurry of its constant dissipation, its vanities, and the company, or familiar converse with those who are intoxicate with its spirit and false maxims of ambition, pride, revenge, jealousy, envy, covetousness, intemperance, and sensuality ; who walk enemies of tne cross of Christ, strangers to the spirit of his holy gospel These are the rocks which every one in the world must keep at a distance from ; being careful, whilst he fails in no duty of charity and civil society to any one, not to cultivate an intimacy but with the small number, and only with such whose conversation and example breathe an air of piety, religion, and the gospel, and which is most pure and free from the baneful contagion of vice in all its shapes. He must be employed in regular, serious, and rational occupations, and reserve to himself hours for retirement, and Chrisr tian devotions and considerations. Thus far Christian solitude is the first part of penance, and belongs to our general and most indispensa- ble obligation of shunning the vanities and dangers of the world, which we solemnly renounced in our baptismal engagements. From time to time, especially in the holy season of Lent, we ought to embrace a closer retirement, if our circumstances will permit, in order to enter seriously into ourselves, and disengage our hearts more and more from the world.

This general retirement, and habitual spirit of recollection, as also set hours or times of closer solitude, are not only a duty of penance for the sequestration of our hearts from sin and the world ; but they are also a necessary preparation for the essential and great duty of prayer. A Christian life is a life of prayer : and in it certain inter- vals ought to be dedicated entirely so this heavenly exercise. Now, solitude removes the impediments, and disposes tne heart to purity, recollection, and fervour in devotion. In solitude souls are disengaged firom the world, which is sure, more or less, to entangle and defile the affections. The Jews in Egypt were forbidden by God to offer him a sacrifice amidst the abominations of a land overrun with idolatry and vice ; and were commanded to go three days’ march into the wilderness, and there to offer him pure Holocausts. It is in holy re- tirement that souls pour forth their purest affections before their Creator, and are reciprocally disposed to listen to his voice, whilst he speaks more freely to their hearts by his interior inspirations, visits them with his most abundant graces, and feeds them with he heavenly consolations. The children of Israel were only favoured with manna, the bread of heaven, (Exod. xvL 31,) whilst they were in the desert — it failed them as soon as they tasted the fruits of the country. (Jos. v. 12.) And God himself declares that ho first draws * chosen soul into retirement, before he makes her hear his voice and relish the sweetness of his divine word in her heart: (Osee ii. 14,) “I “ will lead her into the wilderness and will speak to her heart.”

. The very noise of the world deafens her to his holy call*. and render her incapable either of attending to them, or of raising her

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thoughts and affections, entirely to heaven, and occupying them with due application of all her powers on God alone. He who would see and hear much of worldly things can never preserve his mind free from the tumult of distracting thoughts. If we desire to obtain that blessed cleanness of heart, by which men are disposed for the grace, by which they will be raised to see God, and enjoy his communica- tions in this life, or if we desire to live united in spirit to him, we must retire with Jesus into solitude, so far as may suit the circum- stances of our state. We must fly too great an hurry of company and visits ; not be curious in inquiring after news and listening to re- ports, nor desirous to extend an idle acquaintance. Neither must we seek to fill our ears with hearing, nor our eyes with beholding objects of worldly vanity. Ah ! with what empty follies and trifles do men distract their minds, and disturb the peace of their souls ! It was from the school of the Holy Ghost, that the holy Fathers learned their love of holy retirement, to teach us the obligation of flying su- perfluous distraction, and buried themselves in deserts to be farther removed from the occasions. The Christian solitude is more that of the heart than that of the body ; its end being to depart from the world in spirit and to be joined with God. He who is engaged in the wrorld, must study in it to cultivate this interior solitude, by not set- ting his heart on the vanities of the world, not being involved in its superfluous cares, nor in the concerns of others ; not prying into or judging their actions ; in a word, shunning whatever can draw his soul from the closest union with God.

The end, nay the very soul of Christian retirement, is devout prayer. We may contemplate our Divine Leader and Captain, some- times standing, sometimes kneeling, sometimes prostrate on the ground, pouring forth his soul in profoundly adoring his heavenly Fa- ther, in praising him, in thanking him for all his mercies, and in de- precating with floods of tears his anger kindled against sinners; and intreating him to show us mercy and receive us into favour. The angels attended, (Mark i. 13,) to show that in prayer the heavenly spirits accompany us, and carry up our petitions, or recommend them to God. Jesus continued frequently to retire from the company of men into the mountains to pray, and often passed whole nights in prayer, teaching us by his example, besides our daily devotions, and our constant attention to God, to set apart certain seasons to dedicate ourselves entirely to the holy exercise of prayer — a duty in which St. Paul supposes no Christian can fail. Such a season is particu- larly the holy time of Lent, in which we strive to imitate our divine Redeemer, according to our strength, in his prayer and fasting of forty days. (Matt. iv. 11.)

Jesus is our model in his practice of mortification. Near that part of the river Jordan where he was baptized, there lies a wild frightful desert, called the wilderness of the forty days* fast, because, according to the tradition of the country, Christ made choice of that place for his retreat. Out of devotion many hermits retired into the same in succeeding ages ; several ruins of whose cells and huts are still to be seen in the rocks and mountains there. Our travellers de-

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Ch. In- scribe this desert as the most dreary, dry, barren, and dismal place that can be imagined ; full of high rocky mountains, so torn and dis- ordered as to seem as if the earth had suffered in that spot some great convulsion, in which its very bowels were turned outward, says Mr. Maundrelle. The frightful precipices, and broken cliffs, fill the beholders with horror and amazement. These desolate hills, this most comfortless and abandoned place, was the theatre of the conflict of the Son of God with Satan, of his penance and tears for us, and of the heavenly delights which he tasted in heavenly contemplation and prayer. Here he spent forty days without any earthly comfort, or enjoying any other earthly company than that of wild beasts. (Mark i. 13.) AH this time he macerated his most holy virginal body with a continual fast, without eating or drinking. (Luke iv. 2.) He would chastise, in his most pure and adorable flesh, the guilt of the intem- perance of Adaim and of all our sensualities and lusts ; would obtain for us victorious graces, and teach us by fasting to obtain them, in order to subdue out criminal flesh, which by our rebellion against God has revolted, and is become our domestic, most treacherous, and most dangerous enemy. Jesus was not content to institute and give a so- vereign virtue and strength to the remedy; but seeing our souls sick to death, yet out of sloth, cowardice, and delicacy, unwilling to make use of the remedy, he, in his infinite mercy, prepared for us, was pleased to drink the cup himself, with all its bitterness, to the very dregs, to encourage us cheerfully to take after him a dose so neces- sary for oOr cure. Are we not ready to die with shame and confu- sion at our base pusillanimity, in refusing to do any thing fdr our- selves, whilst we see our God and innocent Redeemer fast with so much rigour only for us, and to set us an example ? If We look on the Holy of Holies, the Lord of all creatures, subjected to this vo- luntary chastisement for our sake, we shall certainly be animated with great zeal to undertake, and cheerfully perform our duty, in the fast commanded by the church, after his example ; and to walk, though at such a distance, in the steps of a Man- God, our gracious Saviour and great leader and captain.

The Evangelist tells us, that, after his fast, he was hungry . Violent hunger is so raging a pain that it has often driven men to the greatest extremities in a fast but of a few days. What then must have been the torment of this long fast of our Divine Redeemer, in a body so perfect, so sensible as his was ? He was pleased miracu- lously to support its life, vigour, and strength, that it might be able to bear the full austerity of such an abstinence ; yet he would not by a miracle abate the least part of its mortification and pain. Such, for our sake, was his love of the cross. Every thing must be made easy, nay, amiable and delightful in such company, and after such an example.

CHAP. X.

On Mid-Lent Sunday .

It is called the Sunday Lcetare from that first word of the introit of the mass, which signifies Rejoice, being an invitation addressed to

202

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Sion or the church, and to every faithful souL The church inter- mingles, in her penitential office of this season, frequent expressions of spiritual joy, for the incomprehensible mercy of our redemption, accomplished by the sufferings and death of Christ. The festival on which we commemorate them being now at hand, she bids us to be comforted under spiritual miseries, and contemplate the paces which our Redeemer comes to bestow on us.» Can we consider the im- mense love, goodness, mercy, wisdom, and justice of God, displayed in this most adorable mystery, the dreadful state of evib from which we are rescued by it, the honour to which we are raised, aad the infinite advantages of which we are put in possession by it, without transports of love, gratitude, and holy joy ? Do we not wish we could fix our whole attention on this great mystery, to contemplate and adore God in it without intermission, for time and eternity? The church exhorts us to approach this great solemnity, penetrated with the most profound sentiments of thanksgiving, praise, adoration, love, and the most perfect humiliation, annihilation, and sacrifice of ourselves, with which we ought to accompany our compunction, and our meditation on these great mysteries, especially at this holy time.

CHAP. XI.

On Passion Sunday.

The whole Lent is consecrated particularly to honour and comme- morate the adorable sufferings and death of our Divine Redeemer, which are indeed at all times, by his express institution and command, the daily great object in all our devotions, which can only be ma<Je acceptable through this great mystery ; and the holy mass and com- munion are nothing else but its unbloody exhibition. But the two last weeks of Lent, and particularly the latter, being the annual [com- memoration of these most adorable of all mysteries, the church makes them the entire object, of her public office. To conform to her pious views, we must in them redouble our fervour, especially in our spirit of holy mourning and penance, adapted to this season. Before the first vespers of Passion Sunday, the cross, and all pictures and images in the churches are covered with purple, or at least dark- coloured veils,, on which no image ought to be represented. By this nakedness in her ornaments the church appears more solemnly mournful. It is likewise represented, that Christ, before His passion, did not walk in public ; but lay for some time hid for fear of his ene- mies, as we read in the gospel on Passion Sunday. The church also omits the Gloria Patri , and the like doxologies, in many parts of her public office, to express the excess of her mourning, and excite her children to attend on her solemn prayers in the most serious spirit of compunction, that, bowed down under the weight of our sorrows and iniquities, (Baruch. iL) we may offer to God the sacrifice of our tears, which are as it were the blood of the heart, unolated by holy

» See Gavant Comm, in Rubiicas Missalis, part. if. tit. 6. * Gavant* in Missal, part* if. tit. 7.

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grief, and poured forth before God, according to the beautiful expression of S. Austin. In proportion to the fervour of our peni- tence, will be the earnestness of our desires and endeavours to rise from sin, in which we shall spare no pains or care to destroy it in our hearts, and exert our strength in our utmost efforts, in waging war against, and in subduing our irregular appetites, and in crying to God for mercy, in the words of the royal penitent and prophet. (Ps. vi. ; xxxiv.) The soul which sees herself the object of his anger, and con- siders, that though his very essence is goodness and mercy, and his divine heart nothing but love and charity itself ; yet by sin he is frozen toward her, and his omnipotence armed to take revenge on her rebellions, by which she has provoked his indignation, must be alarmed and terrified. Therefore, she must be solicitous, especially at this holy time, by every means which God in his infinite mercy has instituted,' to engage him to re-instate her in his favour, and to enrich her with his most precious graces, through the mediatorship of Christ, and through his holy sufferings and death, which the church now especially commemorates, and by which pardon and all graces are purchased for us, and offered to us.

Sbixttt Croottfff*

ON HOLY WEEK.

CHAP. I.

The Greeks and Latins anciently called it the Great Week ; the Holy Week ; sometimes the Painful Week , or the week of austeri- ties ; also the week of sorrows, the days of the Cross , or of suffer - ings. “ We call it the Great Week,” says St. Chrysostom,* “ not “ that it consists of a greater number of days, or that days in it are “ longer ; but on account of the great things which God hath wrought “ in it. For on these days was the tyranny of the devil overthrown, “ death disarmed, sin and its curse taken away, heaven opened and « made accessible, and men made fellows with the angels,” &c. The fast of this week was two ways more austere than in the rest of Lent ; first. In the xerophagy,6 or living on dry meats, namely, bread and salt, with no other drink but water, which no one touched before evening : and this was an universal law, rigorously observed by all Christians, as St. Epiphanius testifies. This father confines the xer- ophagy to bread and salt ; but it is 'expressly mentioned in the Apostolical Constitutions, that with bread it was allowed to eat herbs

a S. Chrys. in Ps. cxlv. T. v. p. 636, ed Ben. See also him Horn. xxx. in Gen. p. 394, T. iv. b Zqpofayia*

204 HOLY WEEK. [T». Vi.

or pulse, which was not dressed by fire. The other additional austerity consisted in the superposition of the fast* which was only of devotion according to every one’s strength and fervour*. For the more zealous continued their fast for several days together without any sustenance; some passing over the whole six days in this manner, without any abatement, till cock-crowing on Easter Sunday morning ; others the two, three, or four last days.* We are assured by St. Epiphanius, quoted above,** that in the fourth century, when he wrote, even those Christians who had least fervour and zeal, only eat bread with a little salt, and drank water once a day at evening, all Holy Week. The Greeks who never fast on other Saturdays in Lent, which they keep an inferior kind of festival, observe a rigorous, inviolable fast on Easter Eve. Great watchings in the night were also a duty of this week, especially on Easter Eve, and are mentioned by St. Chrysos- tom, and other Fathers.

More abundant alms ought always to accompany the austeirer fasts of Holy Week, as the Fathers testify. “.Many in the Great Week,” says St. Chrysostom,* “ prolong their fasts (by superposition), increase “their watchings, and double their alms, to honour so holy a time.* The nearer we approach to the solemnity of Christ’s sufferings and resurrection, by which mysteries all the greatest blessings were poured forth upon men, the more are we obliged to show all manner of acts of mercy and kindness toward our bretnren.

The Christian Emperors anciently exercised this charity in grant- ing a general release from prison to all debtors and criminals, certain more grievous crimes only excepted. This indulgence was extended to the whole Great Week before, and to the week following Easter- day, as is clear from the imperial laws still extant/1 Whence St. Am- brose said :• “ The holy days of the last week in Lent, are the time “ when the bonds of debtors were to be loosed.” And St. Chrysos- tom says :f “ That the Emperors set prisoners at liberty on the Pas- “ schal solemnity, that they might imitate, as far as in them lay, the “ example of our Lord, who at this time delivered us from the bonds “of our sins, and made us capable of enjoying numberless blessings. For we ought, “ as much as possible, to imitate his mercy and kind- ness.” And in another sermon spoken in the passion week, £ he says : “ The imperial letters are sent forth, commanding all prisoners to be “loosed from their bond^,” &c.

Masters likewise, during these two* weeks of the passion, and of the Pasche of the Resurection, often made free several of their slaves or servants bound for a term of years.*1 Hence the imperial laws of Theodosius which forbid all other judicial acts or legal processes during these two weeks, allow whatever was done by way of charity

* S. Epiph. Expos. Fidei, n. 9. <fc 23. <fe haer. 39. Nazareor. S. Dion. Alex. ep.

Can L ap. Bever. Cong tit. Apoat. 1. v. c. 18. V Expos. Fidei, n. 9.

c S. Chrya. Horn. xL n. 1. T. i. vet. ed. dfcc.

d Cod. Theod. 1. ix. tit. 38. de Indulgent . Criminum. leg. 3 and 4.

• S. Ambros. ep. 33. vet. ed. f St. Chrya. bom. xxx. in Gen. T. ix. p. 427.

s Id. hom. in Pa. cxlv. T. iii. p. 823. quae eat Horn. 78, in Hebdomadam M«g-

naxn, T. v. ed. Savil. p. 641.

h S. Greg. Nys*. hpm. hi. de Resurr. Chr. T, hi. p, 420. . ;

Ch. L] HOLT WEEK. 205

for the manumission of slaved, as most agreeable to this holy solemni- ty. “ Let all actions at law, whether public or private, cease in the “ fifteen Paschal days. Yet all men have liberty at this time to “ grant freedom to their slaves,, and whatever acts are necessary* to be “ done at law for this purpose, are not prohibited.9 These are the terms of the edict of that religious Emperor.a This is the same exception which Constantine the Great had made with respect to the Lord’s day, on which he forbade all other proceedings at lawb.

By the above-mentioned law, and others enacted by several of the first Christian Emperors,6 the first of which was published by Con* stantine the Great, “ during the two Paschal weeks, of the Cross, and of the Resurection; in honour of those great mysteries, all courts of law, or the administration of justice, are commanded to be shut, and all judicial proceedings forbidden and declared void, except acts of mercy. ' . ' .

Both these weeks being set apart for the most solemn offices .of the church, sermons, and both private and public devotions, all servants had a vacation from bodily labour all this time, that they might have leisure and opportunity to attend the worship of God, and the con- cerns of their souls. In the Apostolical Constitutions, this law is mentioned in the following words :• “ In the great ( Week before “ Easter) and the' week following, let servants rest from their labour $ “ because the one is the time of our Lord’s passion, and the other of “ his resurection ; and servants have need to be instructed in tbe “ knowledge of these mysteries.9

The exterior solemnity with which the church has ever observed this holy time, puts Christians in mind of their obligation of redoub- ling their fervour in all the holy exercises of Lent, and in all works of piety and religion. No one can deserve to bear the name of a Christian, who is slothful as to fail in this duty. By closing well the holy time of Lent, we shall reap abundant fruits of our penance, and of the sacred mysteries which we here commemorate. All who call themselves children of the church, strive to outdo themselves and each other oh this great solemnity, as St. Bernard observes/ The sentence which was passed in the old law against those who should neglect to sanctify the yearly great fast of the expiation, (Leviticus xx Hi. 27, 2S, 29,) will be executed in a much more dreadful manner uponthose pretended Christians, who let pass the commemoration of these most tender and adorable mysteries, without beift£ touched with a due sense of compunction, gratitude, love, and piety. St. Bernard, in a sermon made in the beginning of this Holy Week, stirs up his religious to fervour in the following words “ Be atten- “ tive with all possible watchfulness, and with the whole application “ of your souls, that the commemoration of these great mysteries

a Cod. Justin* 1. iii. tit. 12. de Ferns, leg. 8. b Cod Theod. 1. ii. tit*

8. de Feriis, leg 1. See Bingham, 1 . xx. chi 6. Sect. 7. dr 1 . xxi. ch. 1. sect 29.

c Cod. Theod. 1. ii. tit. 8. de Feriis, leg. 2. S. Aug. Serin. 19. ex editis a Sir- mondo, &c. d Constant. M. apud Scahger. de Emendat T empor. 1. vii. p. 776.

« Constit. A post. 1. viii. cap. 33. ' S. Bern. Serm, de Pass, Domini.

% S. Bern, Sena# de Pass, Dom, sen, 4, Major Hebdon.

u may not pass you in vain. God is going to pour forth his most ^ abundant blessings* Let your hearts be penetrated with piety and “ devotion. Restrain your senses under a stmt discipline, cleanse. “ your consciences, purify and sanctify your affection** and prepare “ your souls to receive the excellent gifts, which will be most plen- “ tifully conferred upon those who shall be disposed/'

All the exercises of Lent must be now continued with redoubled fervour, to which we must excite ourselves by the most devout meditation on the Cross and Passion of our divine Redeemer. This must be the great and only object of our thoughts and devout enter- tainments at this time. The divine Jesus suffering, Jesus nailed to a cross, Jesus dying for our sins, must always be present in our minds ; our hearts must be continually occupied on Him. In his presence, and at the foot of his cross, we must perform all our religious and penitential exercises, by which we study to die to ourselves, that dying with him we may rise with him, conformed in our interior to his holy image.

CHAP. II.

On Palm-Sunday.

On this day the church honours the triumphant entry of our divine Redeemer into Jerusalem, five days before his crucifixion. (Matt xxi. ; Mark xv. ; Luke xix.) He was pleased, before the. humiliation of his passion, to be acknowledged and received as the Messias, the Saviour of the world, and King of souls. This was a most sacred and august ceremony, a triumph truly great and glorious in the eyes of heaven, though humble in the sight of men. The Son of God made man for the redemption of mankind, having finished the course of his ministry, and preaching through the cities and country of Palestine, in order to consummate his great sacrifice at Jerusalem, in the sight of all the people assembled to keep the feast of the Pass- over, went up to that city on account of that festival; hut to be offered himself the real victim for the rins of the whole world, which the Paschal Lamb, offered on that feast in the Jewish law, had pre- figured. Burning with an eager desire to accomplish this great work, in order to rescue our souls from the slavery of sin and hell, and to establish in them the reign of his grace and love, he cheerfully went up to the theatre of his bloody conflict and victory. . As an emblem of the first fruits of his conquest of souls, he would make a public entry into the city, which was a kind of triumph ; but such a triumph as suited the spirit of humility and contempt of the world, meekness and peace, which he came to plant in the hearts of men, and which might heal the deep wound of their pride.

When he drew near to Jerusalem, he stopped at the house of his devout friends, Lazarus, and his two sisters, Mary and Martha, in the village of Bethania, almost two miles from the city. With this holy family he rested the Sabbath day, and on Sunday morning proceeded to the city. Being come near Bethphage, a village which was a kind of suburb of Jerusalem, built on a part of Mount Olivet, be sent two

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disciples into the village, to bring an ass for him to ride on. To show that he knew all things, and was Lord of men and creatures, he 9tdd to them : “ You will find an ass tied, and a colt with her 1 “ loose them, and bring them to me. And if any man shall say any <* thing to you, say ye, the Lord hath need of them, and he wiU let “ them go.” The disciples obeyed, found the a9s and foal as Jesus had told them ; and the owner, upon hearing that Christ had occa- sion for them, letting them go, they brought them to Jesus. Our divine Redeemer and King, who had been always accustomed to per* form bis journeys and missions on foot, who, when tired, had sat down at a well, and asked only a little water of a Samaritan woman to refresh himself, which yet ne is not read to have drank, and who often had not a cover to shelter him from the weather, nor a place where to rest his head, on this occasion would make his entry mounted on an ass, on which no one had before sat. St. Mark and St. Lake mention only the foal, because that was the beast on which Jesus chiefly rode. This circumstance was foretold by the prophet Zachary, (Zach. ix. 9>) by which prediction it was a known charac- teristic action of the Messias. “ Rejoice greatly, O daughter of “ Sion : shout for joy, O daughter of Jerusalem ; behold thy King “ will come to thee, the just One and the Saviour : He is poor, and “ riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass,” says the Prophet.

It was neither dishonourable nor unusual among the Jews, for per- sons even of the first distinction, to ride on asses,* though mules and horses were preferred for that purpose. But a young ass not yet broke, and without any common covering for riding, according to the custom of that age, was certainly mean equipage for the Saviour of the world. But some of his disciples spread their own clothes on the ass on which he sat : others strewed their garments, and green boughs which they lopped from the trees, in the way where he was to pass. And crowds, consisting chiefly of the poor or the lower rank of the people; and of innocent children, walking before and be- hind him, with green boughs in their hands, magnified God with loud voices, and repeated the praises of Jesus, whom they saluted and proclaimed the long expected Messiah, or Christ the Saviour of his people, repeating in joyful acclamations of praise and thanksgiving : u Hosanna to the Son of David : blessed is he that cometh in the “ name of the Lord : Hosanna in the Highest.” The Hebrew word Hosanna is manifestly applied to Christ by the royal prophet, (Ps. cxriii.) as St. Jerom observes,6 who adds that its import is, Lord , sA ve ! where we are to understand, Him or thy Christ ! The mean- ing, therefore', of this acclamation of joy- and praise is, u Salvation “ and a prosperous reign to the Messiah,” who is by excellence the Son of David promised by all the Prophets, and who comes in the name of the Lordy being the Shilo, or He who is sent by him to save his people, and establish his kingdom or church.

How deplorable is the blindness of the wise ones, and the greatest

• See Grot. Pole. Syn. Critic. Calmet in. Comm. <fe in Diction. 10. ib.

* St. Hier. biii. in (Matt. c. 21). p. 69. T. iv. ed. Ben.

208

HOLT WEEK. [Tb. VL

part of tbe great ones of the work!, who puffed np with self-gufliciency, cannot discern the divine truth, and suffer the prize to.be borne away by the little one* who, walking in simplicity and humility* open their eyes to the divine light, and their hearts to all the motions of grace. Of the number of these blind proud ones, were those Pharisees who, swelled with indignation ana jealousy upon seeing the triumph- ant reception of our blessed Saviour, and hearing thfe prabes which the multitude gave to God and his Christ, complained to Jesus him- self, that he did not rebuke the people and stop their mouths. Christ meekly showed them how acceptable to God the zeal and de- votion of this people was, and how indispensable the obligation is of rendering to God the homage of our praise and thanksgiving for his in- comprehensible mercies, especially for his having sent his Son to be the propitiation of our sins — making them this answer : “ If these should hold their peace, the stones would cry out.” (St. Luke; xix. 4(h) It is easy to God to raise children of Abraham out of stones ; and this he would do rather than due praise should not be given him. By the choice which. Christ made .of the poor, and of children to sing his praises, we learn that the simplicity of humble hearts, teeming with sentiments of thanksgiving, love, and praise, is tbe most essential of all conditions to render our homages acceptable to him. Can any Christian be found so ungrateful, and so insensible, as to neglect this duty? The Prophets, the heralds of heaven, announce to us who he is who comes, wjiat is the end of his coming, namely, to redeem and raise us to glory ; how adorable, and how amiable he is in his appearance among us, and how infinite are the treasures of his mOrcy and graces. Isaiah cries out : “ Say to the daughter of Sion: Be- “ hold thy Saviour comes.” (Isa. lxii. 11.) And Zachary, quoted by St. Matthew, (Matt. xxi. 5 :) “ Tell ye the daughter of Sion s Be- “ hold thy, king eometh unto thee, meek and sitting upon an ass, and “ a colt, the foal of an ass, under the yoke.” Are we able to contain ourselves in raptures of astonishment and holy joy, when we hoar these invitations, and contemplate this great mystery? > Do we not break forth into the most inflamed canticles of spiritual jubilee, praise, adoration, love^and thanksgiving, with the most perfect oblation and consecration of ourselves to our most amiable Saviour and God, de- siring and purposing to remain ever his irrevocable and universal holocaust of thanksgiving, love, and praise, in time and eternity. Prostrate in spirit before him, we ought to summon the whole crea- tion to join us in praising him, and in magnifying his, mercy for ever and ever. For this we may recite with the most ardent devotion the canticle of the Three Children, or some of the last jpsalms of the Psalter or of Lauds ; or the Te Deum , or some of the doxologies of the church for this day ; or the hymn “ Gloria Laus, et Honor, tibi sit Rex, Christe, Redemptor,” &c.

In imitation of those devout Jews, who strewed green olive and palm-tree branches on the road before Christ, as he rode, we bear palms or other green boughs or sprigs, such as the climate affords in the season. These are blessed, because the church maketh use of nothing in her ceremonies which is not first blessed ; which custom

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is confirmed by the most ancient rituals, and derived from apostolic tradition. These branches the faithful receive from the priest, kiss- ing out of respect first the priests hand, then the palm, according to the general rubrick, when we receive any thing in church from the priest ; as in presenting any thing to him the thing presented is first kissed, then the hand of the priest. We hold the palms in our right hand at the procession, and whilst the passion and the last gospel are said, to imitate the zeal of these pious Jews, in praising and glorify- ing our divine Redeemer and adorable Victim, so much more wor- thy our best homages the more he humbles himself for us. The peo- ple spread their garments in his way : let us prostrate our hearts before him by repeated acts of adoration. Let us adore him triumph- ing over the devil and sin, by his death on the cross, and make him triumph in our hearts, by subjecting them entirely to his divine reign and love.

The procession is instituted, that we may be excited by this cere- mony to attend in spirit, and honour Christ in his triumphal entry, when he marched up to Jerusalem to enter upon his passion ; doxo- logies are sung in honour of our high Priest and Redeemer, with an hymn of praise. This last is sung by two or four precentors, who go before the procession into the church, and shut the door. These represent the heavenly spirits celebrating the triumph of Christ on earth. The choir, standing without the church door, and answering to the hymn, represents the church on earth joining the celestial choirs in paying their homages to Christ. After the hymn the sub- deacon knocks at the door, by striking it with the staff of the cross, which he carries at the head of the choir in the procession ; and the door being opened, the choir enters, and the precentors mingle in it. This ceremony signifies that Christ, by his death and victory, removed the veil of the sanctuary, and admitted the people into it ; that is, he opened the gates of heaven to men, destroyed the partition-wall, and made men on earth one body with the holy angels, uniting the church triumphant and militant.

Whilst we make our divine Redeemer a tender of our homages, and acknowledge him our Lord, our King, and our God, we must earnestly intreat him to take entire possession of our hearts, subduing all our appetites and powers to his holy reign, banishing all rebellions, scandals, and whatever can in the least oppose his most holy will, that it alone, with his grace and love, may reign sovereignly and without control in all our affections, faculties, and senses ; and that by bearing his marks, by his spirit engraven on them, and shown forth in them, and by them, in all our desires, thoughts, actions, and words, we may be for evermore his. This we must ask of him, by the most earnest and importunate in treaties, conjuring him to hear us in this request, by all the motives of his infinitely tender mercy, especially by the titles of redemption and conquest, that we, whom he came from Heaven to seek, and for whose salvation he has done and suffered so much, may not, through our sloth and malice, make void in us all his designs of love and mercy, and the great work of his incarnation and sufferings. Our prayer we must put up with many tears, or at least

•10 pe&rvnx. [T*. Yh

with spiritual tears, or an earnest desire of them ,with aa humble com*- puhfcUea for our hardness of heart, which under all our spiritual miseries yields nonet to hear our divine Redeemer company in the floods of tears and blood which he shedt and in his loud cry and fmtenfe to his father for us. Our petitions ought to be laid before the throne of the divine mercy, with those inexpressible sighs and groanings, and those earnest desires, which the Holy Ghost raises in hearts which he animates with his holy spirit of prayer, with a feeling of the weight of their own miseries, and with a sense of God’s gra- cious mercy and goodness. To ask such a mercy remissly, is to slight it, and to betray a Want of a sense of our extreme necessities, or of the inestimable value of the grace of our redemption*

Out homages of praise, and our supplications, must not consist merely in words, or exterior expressions and ceremonies, which would be mockery and hypocrisy : they must be the work of the Jtaart, end of aa heart penetrated with the deepest sentiipents. These must be sincere and solid, such as are only produced by an heart truly dead to vice, to the world, and to inordinate self-love, and perfectly converted to God* Passing tender motions of piety do not suffice, though they often impose upon the world, and upon preten- ded converts themselves. But God is the Searcher of rein 9 and heart* to the bottom, and is not to be deceived by flattering lips and appearances*

It was a most bitter and sorrowful reflection to our divine Redeem- er, in his triumphant entry itself, to foresee, that far the greater part of those who hailed him with their acclamations and praises, would, by the influence of their rulers in five days, change them into curses ahd blasphemies, and instead of Hosannas, would cry out : “ Crucify “ him 1 crucify him 1” Who can court or rely upon so false and treacherous a world ? Let all our confidence be placed in God alone, our unshaken and eternal support* Who also does not fear the insin- cerity and the fickleness of ms own heart ? God alone is our strength. By watchfulness and prayer we must preserve, and always improve in our hearts the treasure of his grace, by which alone we shall be able to maintain our ground, grow daily in his saving knowledge and love, end attain to the crown of salvation and eternal life. The palmy, which we carry in the procession this day, are not only ensigns of the part we take in the triumphal reception of Christ, and marks, protestations, and expressions of our spiritual joy, love, and praise ; but, aS it appears from the prayers of the church in blessing them, they are also to be looked upon by us as emblems, both of the crowns of our victories over our spiritual enemies, and 2ndly, of the fruit of good works* The slothful and cowards cannot he entitled to these crowns, the recocopence of victories to which they cannot pretend. { Apoc. xL 3, 21.) We must strenuously exercise ourselves in this war* lure, by penance, mortification, watchfulness, and humble and assidu- ous prayer ; and must animate ourselves continually, under the shield of the divine protection, to fight a good fight, and resist even to death* During the procession of this day, we must arm ourselves srith this reaelutioAf mi earnestly beg this grace of being victorious

Hoinr monk

tit

CM. HI]

over all vic6 And enemies ; also that we may bear the frtut ef All virtues and good works, fearing the dreadful ctlrse of the barren figi tree, for having so long in vain eufabered the ground, (Luke iia.) and that whibh God pronounced by the mouth of the Baptist i il Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, shall be eut dowfc M and cast into the fire/’ (Matt, iii* 10.) Every grace in our heart & a seed sown by the hand of God in its proper soil ; must ever grow and push out new branches, flowers, ana fruit of good works ; whiefi if it ceases to do, it necessarily decays and dies; Hence the Royal Prophet compares the just man to a tree planted in a fruitful soil* well watered, and loaded continually vVith new fruit. (Ps. i. 3<)

The church reads this day the history of our Lord’s passion, riofi odly to show it must be the principal object of our devotion this whole week, but also to teach us to accompany even our joy with a spirit of compunction, add the meditation on the cross, as 3. Bernard takes notice.*

CHAP. III.

On the Office of the Tenehrce .

So long as Christians spent the greater part of the nights during holy week, especially the four last days, in general watchings in the churches, this office was said at midnight : which practice was still continued within the last six hundred years, or in the twelfth cen- tury, as is manifest from the old Roman order, and the comments of Mabillon and Mdrtenne. It is the matins of the office of Thursday anticipated the evening foregoing. It is called the office of Tenebrfy from that Latin word which signifies darkness ; for toward the end, all the lights are extinguished, to express the deepest mourning* and in memory of the darkness which covered the Whole earth at our Lord’s crucifixion.

The noise which is made in the end, by beating a little the desk* or books, and the ground, with the hands and feet, represents the earthquake, and the splitting of the rocks, in the convulsive agonies, which even inanimate nature felt at the death of the Son of God. For the offices during these three days are a kind of funeral obsequies, which the church pays to her divine Spouse and Redeemer.

In a triangular candlestick, placed on the left, or epistle side of the altar, are set fifteen candles, seven on each side, and one on tha top. The candles on each side are put out, one after every psalm, beginning from the lowest toward the gospel side, then on the oppo- site. After these fourteen, the . white candle on the top being left burning, whilst the henedictus is sung, the six candles on the altar are put out, one after each verse. At the beginning of the verse, after the henedictus^ the white candle is taken down from the top of the triangular candlestick, and hid under the altar, whilst the Miserere psalm, add the prayer, are recited; after which it is brought out

f S» Beni, Sera, 1 6 8, in Doan, Palmar,

again. These candles are not to be white, or made of blanched wax ; but of common or yellow wax, as the ancient Roman Ceremonial cf JBishops prescribes ; because such are used by the church in times of penance or mourning, whenever she makes use of purple or black or- naments. But the candle placed on the top of the triangular candle- stick is in most dioceses white, because it represents Christ himself. This number of candles, and this manner of placing them, and gra- dually extinguishing them, is a very ancient rite, and occurs in a manuscript copy of the old Roman Order (of the divine office) of the seventh century, published by Mabillon.* The solemn rites used by the church, especially on great festivals, are of primitive antiquity.6

Amongst the interpreters of sacred rites, who wrote chiefly in the 9th and 11th centuries, some tell us, that all these candles represent ^Christ, and their extinction the mournful death of him who is the life and the light of the world. Others say, these yellow candles repre- sent the eleven apostles, the blessed Virgin, and the other holy women, and all the disciples ; and the extinction of these lights, their flight or mourning : but the white candle on the top of the triangular can- dlestick, signifies Christ himself. On which account it is only nid under the altar, and again produced, to show that Christ was ouly hid in the sepulchre for a short time, and rose again, says Amularius. This last allusion to his resurrection is admitted by all, even those who take all the candles to express only the extinction of the life of Christ, our light, and the deep grief of his church in her mourning ; and perhaps only this was intended in the original institution of this rite.

On Wednesday, the Jews, in their great council, formed their con- spiracy to take away the life of Christ, by a criminal prosecution which they charged themselves to carry on against him, before Pilate, the Roman governor. Hence the commencement of the stages of his passion is dated from this day ; and Wednesday is a weekly fast of the stations in the Greek church, no less than Friday ; and was also in the Latin church in the primitive ages.

CHAP. IV.

Maunday Thursday .

The church on this day commemorates the last supper of our divine Redeemer, with the institution of the holy Eucharist, and the wash- ing of the feet of the apostles. The solemn consecration of the holy oil is performed by the bishops on this day. The rest of the office of the church on it belongs to our Lord’s passion.

This being the day on which our divine Redeemer, at his last sup- per, instituted the holy sacrament and sacrifice of his adorable body and blood, in the blessed Eucharist, and commanding his apostles, and their successors in the Christian priesthood, to continue the same, ordained them priests of the new law, and appointed them mi- nisters and dispensers of his sacraments, mass is said in white, with

a Mabillon, Muwetun Ital, T. ii. p. 22, * See Booquin TV. sur la LUurgie •

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the greatest solemnity, in thanksgiving for, and in honour of this in- comprehensible mystery of divine love and grace. But in the high mass the peace is not given as usual, in detestation of the treacherous kiss of peace, by which Judas Iscariot, on this day, betrayed his divine master into the hands of his enemies. The laity all commu- nicated on this day : those who fasted, in the evening, in imitation of our Lord’s last supper ; and those who could not fast, in the morn- ing.11 After mass, the blessed Eucharist is removed from the taber- nacle on the altar, and kept in some other decent place. Anciently it was never kept on the high altar, but either in some rich taberna- cle, placed in some other part of the church, against the wall or some pillar, decently ornamented, and often with great magnificence, as is still seen in some cathedral and abbatial churches, as in the great Cistercian nunnery of Flines, in Flanders, &c., or in a gold or silver figure of a dove, hanging above and a little before the altar, which was let down by a rich cord shut up in a gilt tube, which was bent in a bow over the altar, and came down behind it, as is still done in several old cathedral and abbatial churches in France and in other countries.b When the custom was introduced in many churches to* keep the Holy Eucharist in a tabernacle upon the altar, it was neces- sary to remove it at this time, when, by the ancient rite, the altar is: to be naked, and without any ornaments.c Thus necessity first gave occasion to the custom of removing the holy sacrament from the altar ; but it was always the custom that the place where it is reserved should be decently embellished. Though purity and devotion of heart is the most acceptable ornament to God, who wants not our gold or jewels, yet devotion itself teaches us to consecrate to God some part of the richest ornaments we are possessed of, to testify how much we desire to honour him in his holy places and mysteries. This God himself commanded in the old law. Christians in the first ages, under the pressure of poverty and persecutions, found means to furnish rich vessels and ornaments for the divine mysteries, which were much increased when the Emperors themselves became zealous votaries and protectors. Incredible were the presents of the Popes to the churches for this purpose, both before and after the church enjoyed peace and liberty, as is mentioned in the most ancient Pontificals, or short account of their lives and transactions. At this holy time of devotion to these holy mysteries, it is the custom to deck the repositories with more than ordinary magnificence. Decency, at least, is a necessary part of the respect that is due. These repositories the people call sepulchres of our divine Redeemer, and they visit them to honour him made by death a sacrifice of love and of propitiation for our sins. Nor is there any inconvenience to represent his burial by anticipation, which the parts of the church office which follow do not leave equal opportuni- ties and leisure for.

With other consecrated hosts, one is reserved on this day for tbe communion of the priest on the moiTow, which is Good Friday. For no Mass being allowed to be said on that day, the priest say^ the

* S. Aug, ep. cxviii. ad. Jannar. c. 7. Prat. Spir. c. 79, <fcc.

b See Le Bran, Liturgie. c Gavant.

214 HOLY WEM. [Th. VI.

latter part of the prayers of the Mass without consecrating any ele- ments, and receives the Host reserved from the foregoing day. This is called the M Mass of the pre-sanctified mysteries : Missa pree* “ sanctificatorum such as is said in the cathedral at Milan, on every Friday in Lent, and in the Greek church, on every day in Lent, ex- cept Saturdays, Sundays, and the feast of the Annunciation.

After the Mass of Maundy Thursday, the bells cease to ring till the “ Gloria in Excelsis” at the Mass of midnight for Easter, anti- cipated before noon on the eve. This is done as a sign of mourning, and in imitation of the silence and grief of the Apostles at the suffer- ings and death of Christ.

The blessed sacrament being taken away, all the altaTs are un- covered, and stripped naked of all ornaments, to express the most profound grief and mourning of the church, and to represent the nakedness and abandoned state of Christ upon the cross.

Christ, at his last supper, not only washed the feet of his apostles, but gave all his disciples a strict command to do the same, that is, readily to serve each other in exercising all actions of charity and humility, of which he had set them the example. Such offices, per- formed in the true spirit of those virtues, have an incredible efficacy in improving the heart in the strongest sentiments of those virtues ; and the occasions of them have been ardently embraced by all the gaints. In imitation of our blessed Redeemer, Christians, kings, popes, bishops, superiors of religious houses, and others, wash the feet of some poor persons, or of their colleagues and fellows on this day ; which ceremony is called the Mandate , from the first word of the first anthem of it: Mandatum novum do vobi s, &c. Hence this day is usually called in English, Maundy or Mandy - Thursday . The Greeks styled it the Holy and great Jifth day of the week of the Passion : which name is given it by John Moschus,* and St.

Chrysostom.*

On this day the catechumens or candidates of baptism were ac- customed to bathe and wash their bodies, that they might approach the sacred laver decently and clean, when they were to be baptized on Easter eve. It was also customary for many others, who out of a spirit of mortification and penance, had refrained from using the bath all Lent, to bathe this day, in order to cleanse their bodies from all filth which they might have contracted by the austerities of Lent.c In like manner as it was among the ancients a mark of mourning in times of affliction, never to clip or take any care of their beards, so in Lent many Christians looked upon this as a part of their penance*

* Prat. Spirit, c. 79. *» S. Chrys. hom. de Proditkme Judas, T. 9.

* Bathing was anciently much in use, and deservedly, for keeping the body dean, and the cutaneous pores open, for the sake of insensible perspirations so essential to health. Bathing was more necessary before the use of linen, espe- cially in hot climates, when the obstruction of the cutaneous pores by scurf or filth, exposed men to the most dreadful cutaneous disorders, as leprosies, dc., and to the most fatal internal diseases. On the advantages of bathing, and on the precautions necessary to prevent all inconveniences and dangers in using it, see pir John Floyer, cfec.

HOLT Will.

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But they thought it a necessary duty to trim their beards* and the meats - and monks to shave their crowns or tonsures on Maundy Thursday, that they might appear decent at Easter, and in an habit becoming the joy and triumph of that holy solemnity. For Good Friday and Holy Saturday were then kept as holidays of obligation, and entirely taken up in the church. And it was then strictly forbidden, as a part of servile work, for any one to be shaved on a Sunday or holiday. St. Richard, bishop of Chichester, when he had been busy on a Saturday till noon, or three of the clock in the afternoon, Would not be shaved or shorn after that hour, the Sunday’s office then beginning with the first Vespers. Another eminent person in England about that time, went half-shaved all Sunday, because the hour of noon struck when he was shaved only on one side. But shaving was not then so frequent, nor looked upon as so necessary a part of dress, or of decency, and of respect for others, as it now is. These examples are mentioned, the precept of not shaving on holidays strongly enforced, and the custom of shaving on Thursday in Holy week described and explained, in an old English sermon preached at Derby, about the year when the relics of St. Wenefride were translated to Shrewsbury, as appears in the sermon preached by the same author on her festival. His discourse on this day is entitled On Shere Thursday ;• this being then the vulgar name given in England, from the abovementioned custom, to the day we now call Maundy Thursday. The preacher dwells much on this custom, and says, the shaving of the body puts us in mind of our main obligation of paring away the vicious inclinations and superfluities of the soul, and of becoming a new creature in Christ, in which consists the essential preparation for the holy and joyful feast of Easter.

On this same day the Competentes , or those who were prepared to receive baptism on Easter-eve, rehearsed the creed before the bishop and priests, which ceremony is fixed by the Council of Laodicea to the fifth day of the great week.b Theodorus Lector® says, Timotheus, bishop of Constantinople, in 5 12, first ordered the creed to be recited In that ehurch at every synaxis, or assembly for celebrating the divine mysteries, which before used only to be repeated once a year by the catechumens, on the parasceve or eve fo our Saviour’s passion, when they were catechized by the bishop, and examined on their dispo- sitions, and on their behaviour during the course of their instruction and discipline.

The holy oils, according to the present discipline of the church, are consecrated by the bishop on this day. These are of three kinds, used by the church in the administration of three holy sacraments ; 1. The oil of the Sick , which serves to anoint the sick in moral danger of death, in the sacrament of extreme unction ; 2. The oil of

a The tide of this ancient ffinglwh MS. is, Discourses on the FfstHmts, That on Shere Thursday occurs fob 73. The MS. is in the possession of Mr, Marth of Palgrave, near Eye, in SufifoUr, attorney at law.

*» Con. Laodic. Can. 46. « Theodor. 1% p.

21fr HOLT WEEK. [Tfc. VI.

Catechumens, used in anointing the breast and shoulders in baptism before the sacrament is given ; 3. The Chrism , which is oil of olives mixed with natural balsam. Not only the true balsam of Gilead or Mecca ; but also those lately brought from the East Indies, or from America, though substances very different in their kind, are valid for this purpose, as was declared by Pius IV. in a letter to the bishops in India, quoted by Henriquez. Chrism is used in anointing the head at baptism immediately after the sacrament is administered by the ablution. It is also used in the sacrament of confirmation ; and in consecrating bishops, churches, altars, chalices, & c. The two first kinds of holy oils consist of pure natural oil of olives without any mixture; but each has a peculiar episcopal benediction appropriated to it. Formerly the holy oils were consecrated on Easter-eve, im- mediately before the solemn administration of baptism. This august ceremony was afterwards anticipated on the Thursday, that the oils might be sent to each parish for Saturday, when every curate blesses the baptismal font, (mingling with the water some drops of the con- secrated chrism, ana of the oil of catechumens,) and afterwards ad- ministers solemn baptism, if any are found to receive it. The chrism and oils of the preceding year are decently burnt, so soon as the new are received ; the canons being in this point extremely severe in for- bidding the old to be made use of when the new can be procured. They ought not, however, to be sent but by a clergyman, where this is possible.

Maundy Thursday is chosen by the church for this most awful ceremony, not only for the convenience of -the time for the solemn administration of baptism on Holy Saturday ; but also because on this day the greatest mysteries were established by our divine Re- deemer, when he instituted the perpetual sacrifice and sacrament of the blessed Eucharist, and ordained nis apostles priests to consecrate and offer the same. The bishop is assisted in this ceremony by twelve priests, seven deacons, seven sub-deacons, and many other inferior ministers, all habited in the proper ornaments of their respective orders. The sacramentary of St. Gregory does not determine the number, but orders that all assist.* The consecration of the holy oils is performed by several prayers, repeated signs of the cross, breathing upon them, and reiterated blessings. These ceremonies are partly authorised by the example of Christ, as when he breathed upon his apostles, saying: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost;” partly confirmed by the authority of the church from the very time of the apostles, as the sign of the cross, without which no sacred rite is duly performed in the church, as St. Austin and St. Chrysostom observe.1* If these ceremonies seem to Protestants mean and contemptible, they ought to call to mind that axiom of St. Austin, “ If piety consider

• Anciently when the bishop said Mass, all the priests of his church assisted, offered it, and concurred in all its parts with him. Of this custom we have a remnant in the ordination of priests, who, on that occasion, all say Maas with the bishop. This ceremony in consecrating the holy oils seems derived from the same disapline. The church is most tenacious of ancient rites.

b S. Chrys. Hpzn. 65, in Matt, Aug. Tr. 118, in Joan.

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“ them, it will discover in them nothing but what gives edification, “and raises our attention to God and the wonderful effects of his “ grace.” The actions are in themselves nothing ; but the things which God operates by these feeble elements, when employed in the sacraments, are most sublime, and truly divine. These being alto- gether spiritual, and man corporeal and tied to the instruments of his senses, God is pleased to accompany his operations in the sacraments with certain sensible signs which he has cnosen, and which raise our attention to the spiritual effects which they both signify and produce through his power. Experience shows, that where religion is left quite naked, men, especially those who form with greater difficulty any conceptions of spiritual things, soon lose sight of it, and it is ob- literated out of their minds. Nor could men ever be united in any society, but by some exterior marks or bands. Religion, therefore, though its soul or essence consist in the interior, requires also some- times the succour of something that falls under the senses. In the old law, the multitude of ceremonies were a preservative in an igno- rant and superstitious people from the superstitions of idolatry.* In the new law they are few ; but far . more sublime and powerful, adapted to this more perfect state of religion.

After the consecration of the chrism and oils, they are called holy. So was even the show bread, the temple, the tabernacle, the vessels, and whatever was dedicated to the divine service, by any consecration or even simple dedication in the old law. The epithets of honour which were given, and the respect which was shown these things, were only tokens of religion to God, to whose service they belonged, and for whose sake alone they were held in veneration, and could not be profaned without the guilt of sacrilege. The ministers of God and holy things never fall into contempt among men ; but religion it- self is soon extinguished in their hearts. For a true sense of the honour due to the Deity naturally inspires respect for whatever has a near relation to him or his worship. This the Jews extended to the whole mountain on which his temple stood.

The bishop and the priests who attend him, salute with reverence the holy chrism and oils, each separately, when they are consecrated, saying, Hail, holy Cht'ism. At this Protestants take great offence ; but without reason, whether the salutation be meant to be addressed to Christ, or to the Holy Ghost, the sanctifier of souls by this material element ; or whether it be understood to be a bare protestation of a relative respect for the things dedicated to God. In both senses such a manner of speech is easy, and common in all languages, and both in civil and sacred matters ; and being a bold, though plain and natural metaphor, it expresses in a more vehement and affecting manner, a strong commotion or passion of the mind, than words which are no way figurative could convey. How strongly affecting are the beautiful apostrophes which Cicero so often addresses to the capitol, forum, rostrum, temples, and walls of Rome, which there is no one who does not naturally understand to be directed to the people, and in

a See this proved by Dr. Young, in 2 vols. 8vo. _ ^ ,J;

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a much more pathetic language than if they had been immediately addressed ? Who can understand of the walls, not of th endear flock he was going to leave, the tender and melting addresses, which S. Gregory Nazianzen made, in his farewell sermon to the church of the Resurrection, in which he then, and had so often before, preached, and to the courts and other parts of the city of Constant]* pople ? The royal prophet, (Ps. cxiii. 5,) the Jews in their captivity,

S. cxxxvi. 6,) and the prophets in numberless occasions, use such rative expressions, to the tabernacle, to the city of Jerusalem, the hills, the heavens, and other inanimate beings, without any shadow of error or idolatry. So the church, in the hymn composed by Fortu* natus, the ancient and learned bishop of Poitiers, and in some others of equal or higher antiquity, salutes the cross of Christ, and calls it opr only hope ; but under this figurative expression addresses these warm ejaculations to Christ for us nailed to the cross, and making it the instrument of the salvation which he brings us on it. Or in sppao of these exclamations addressed to the cross, we express a relative veneration for the instrument of our Redeemer’s precious sufferings and death ; which we also express by kissing it ; but eur hearts direct all their homages and petitions only to Christ, through bis sacred passion and death. We say the same of the salutations of the holy oils, which are of the highest antiquity, and oocur in the Sacramentary of S. Gregory the great.* The holy Eucharist, the most excellent of all the sacraments,1* so far surpasses al| other mys- teries or spiritual treasures, with the perpetual possession of which the church is enriched by her heavenly spouse, that it ought every where to be distinguished as of a superior order and rank. It is on this account that it is forbidden in the canon law to keep the holy oik, or any other thing, in the same tabernacle with it, except the vessek for its use. But after that holy sacrament and sacrifice, and the other sacraments in their actual administration, nothing is esteemed so sacred as the consecrated chrism, and the holy oils, of which the fathers, from the first ages, always speak in the most lofty strain. See S. Irenmus, S. Theophilus of Antioch, Tertullian, Origen, S. Cy- prian, S. Cornelius, S. Cyril of Jerusalem, S. Parian, and others, quoted at length by Sanbeuve, Tournely, &c.

CHAP. V.

On Good Friday.

On this day the precious death of the divine Redeemer, and spouse of our souls, engrosses all the attention and devotion of the futhful. The church, in her whole office, expresses the deepest mourning and compunction. The altars are naked, except at the priest’s commu- nion, when the ornaments are black, and the crucifix is covered with a black veil till the prostration ; after which it is left uncovered. No mass is said or sacrifices offered, but the holy sacrament, which was reserved the day before, is received in one kind only by the

* See on them the notes of Dom Menard, the learned Benedictin monk,

* Cone. Trid*

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priest, who recites the Lord’s prayer, and a small part of the prayers of the mass, without any consecration of the Eucharist; foi^none is performed on this day, according to the ancieut discipline of both the Latin and Greek churches. No others receive the holy communion, except the priest who celebrates the divine office, and the sick in moral danger of death, to whom it is administered by way of viaticum.*

The morning office after the canonical hours, is opened by mourn- ing vesicles from the prophets, the divine promises of mercy through Christ, and a prayer to obtain that mercy. Then is read for an epistle, the divine mandate for the sacrifice of the paschal lamb in the Mosaic law, the most noble figure of the bloody sacrifice of Christ on the cross. After this, the history of Christ’s passion, from the gospel of 8. John is sung.

The church, on this day, offers up her prayers for all states and conditions of men, expressly naming Heathens and Jews. In private prayers we pray for all by name, without exception. The church also in her public suffrages prays for the conversion and salvation of infidels of every denomination ; but in order to express her abhors rence of wilful apostates, and to distinguish them from children who live within her pale, and enjoy the advantages of her communion, she forbids her ministers publicly to name such at mass, or at her altar. She makes an exception to this discipline on Good Friday ; because on this day Christ died for all men. It is therefore reasonable on it to beg publicly by name, and in a more explicit manner, that all may reap the fruit of his death, for which she presents the names of all a this altar, as Alcuin observes. No genuflexion is made before the prayer which is offered for the Jews, as is prescribed for the rest, because the Jews mocked Christ by bending their knees to him. These prayers for all orders and conditions occur in the sacramentary of 8. Gregory the Great, and are mentioned by S. Celestine I.

After these prayers follow the exposition and veneration of the cross, the improperia, the priest’s communion, with the mass of the pre~sanctifled mysteriet and vespers. This whole week being the triumph of the cross, it is the custom at this time, to bend a knee in passing before it on the high altar, though the blessed sacrament be not there.b At this ceremony, and at the exposition and veneration of the cross on this day, the modern Calvinists take so great offence, as to charge the Catholic church, on this account, with superstition and downright idolatry ; a crime of high treason against God, and of all others in its own nature the most enormous, as the fathers often call it.* But is it the * cross, or its image itself, or the respect and veneration that is paid, or the word by which this veneration is ex- pressed, that gives them so much scandal ?

CHAP. VI.

On the Devotion to the Crou*

The cross, since Christ, by the humiliation of his death thereon, has made it the instrument of his triumph over sin and hell, and of our

* See Beuvelet, Qavaat. b Gavxnt,

• See them quoted by Nat, Alexander, T.i. in Decalog.

220 • HOLY WEE*. [Tb. VL

redemption, has become the Christians glory : it is the symbol of his faith, the pledge of his hope, the powerful incentive of his love, and the emblem and school of all virtues. The more Christ was hum- bled for us by the ignominy of his cross, the more ought he to be honoured by us in it. As it was the title of his most glorious victory, in which he conquered hell, restored man to Heaven, repaired the injuries done to the Deity, and displayed in the most sublime manner, his infinite power, goodness, mercy, love, justice, wisdom, and other attributes, so does he now make it the singular title of his own glory. Great conquerors have often assumed surnames and new titles from their exploits, or from the countries which they subdued.

Thus, amongst the Romans, one is called the African, another the Germanic, another the British, another the Parthian. These indeed were badges of base vanity, and empty honours, often imaginary, generally sullied with infamous crimes. But Jesus, in the excess of his goodness, has been pleased to take a new title from his death on the cross, because it is his most glorious exploit and divine victory, and the strongest demonstration of his mercy and love. And this surname he retains with singular complacency after his resurection, and on the throne of his glory in Heaven, to eternity. “ You seek Jesus the crucified,” (Matt, xxviii. 5 ; (Mark xvi. 6),) said the angel to the devout woman at the sepulchre. And S. Paul says : “ We preach Christ crucified.” (1 Cor. i. 23.) And again: “ Jesus and him crucified.” (2 Cor. ii. 2.) By the cross his sacred humanity merited its exaltation, above all creatures to the supreme throne of glory. ( (Phil. ii. 9)«) The cross was the sceptre, or the throne of his royalty. u Tell the nations that God hath reigned from the wood,” (Ps. xcv. 10,) as S. Justin* and other fathers read that passage. Tne adorable name of Jesus, written on the title placed over the cross, expresses, that by it He is our Saviour, delivers us from sin and hell, and adorns our souls with all graces and virtues. The same title, or superscrip- tion, announces him, who hangs on the cross, to be the King of the Jews, foretold by the prophets. Upon the bed of the cross, and with the price of his precious blood, he cleansed and sanctified a faithful people of true adorers, a numerous family of children to his heavenly Father, and purchased aud formed his church, or spiritual kingdom of all nations. By his cross we were spiritually born and adopted into the number of his sons, and restored to the incomparable privi- leges of his dignity. The cross was the altar on which he offered the great sacrifice of our redemption, presenting himself the great victim of infinite homage to the glory of his father, and a superabun- dant atonement for the sins of the whole world. It is in the ensign of his quality of the Redeemer of man, which he delights and glo- ries above all his other titles, as his mercy and love, of which this is the greatest work, the most astonishing effort and exertion, are over all his other mysteries. The cross is the memorial of the sufferings of our dearest Redeemer, and the pledge of his infinite love towards us. On the cross he espoused us to himself for ever, by his blood,

S. Justin. Dial, cum Truph. Tertull, adv. Judae. c. 11. et 13. Lactant, Amo- bins vri alius, in Ps. 3. Aug. <fc C^sipdpr. hie. S. Leo. M. Serm. 4. de Passion, £c.

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and declared us his brethren and coheirs. It is the outward badge and token of our near and sacred relation to him, and of the glorious character we inwardly bear, by being his disciples and chosen people. It is the distinguishing mark of our Christianity, as circumcision was of the Jewish people. It is the buckler of our faith, and the terror of devils, being the ensign of Christ’s victory and triumph over them. It is an act of our faith, hope, and love ; and both excites and expresses this triple homage of our souls, by which we glorify God. Christ places his glory in his cross. His crucifixion and death were the con- tinual objects of his thoughts and desires, during his mortal life on earth, (Luke xii. 50 ; xxii. 25,) and the subject of his frequent enter- tainment, (Matt. xx. 19») even during his glorious transfiguration. (Luke ix. 31.) By his promise to draw all things to himself, by being exalted on the cross, he attributes to its power the conversion of all nations, the establishment and propagation of his church, and the efficacy and fruit of all his other mysteries. (John. xii. 32.) After his resurection, he derives from the cross his favourite title of honour, and the especial endearing epithet of his love for man : nor can we wonder, that the angels and nis disciples distinguish him by the same. (Matt, xviii. 5 ; (Mark xvi. 6) (Acts iv. 10).) At the last day, when ne shall come in great glory and majesty to judge the living and the dead, his banner will be borne before him in the clouds, (Matt. xxiv. 30,) which is, as S. Chrysostom, S. Ephrem, and other fatners unani- mously expound,* his cross, shining with such dazzling brightness as would eclipse the brightest rays of the sun. The Apostles, in imita- tion of their divine Master, placed both his and their own glory in this great instrument of salvation. With what glowing sentiments of devotion, does S. Paul speak of his crucified Saviour, and of his cross ? u I judged not myself to know any thing among you but “ Jesus Christ and him crucified.” (1 Cor. ii. 2.) “ God forbid that

“ I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Gal. vi. 14.) To glory in a thing is to esteem it, to love it, and to look upon it as our greatness and happiness. " Every man glories in those 44 things in which he thinks himself great,” as S. Thomas Aquinas says. Shall not tfie cross be the object of the Christian’s glory, since Christ himself calls it his own glory? For he spoke of the humilia- tion of his cross, when he prayed his Father to glorify him by it. (John xvii. 5.) He calls it his exaltation. (John iii.) And S. Paul says : “for it God hath exalted him.” (Phil. ii. 9.) The highest glory of the humanity of Christ arises from the humiliation of his cross. Now we are to enter into the sentiments of our divine Lord. “ Let 44 this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. ii. 5.)

By the cross, Christ rescued us from the slavery of sin and the devil, vanquished and dethroned the enemy of our souls, and trans- lated us from the region of darkness, and the shades of eternal death, into his admirable kingdom of light. On it he purchased and pre- pared for us the most powerful remedies, to expel the poison of vice, to heal all our deep wounds, to correct all the disorders of our souls*

% Hilary, 3, Chrysostom, S. Jerom, 8, Ephrem, S. Bede, <fec.

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[TiLTL

to strengthen out1 weakness* tod to implant And nourish all gbod desires of virtue. It is the great chair or pulpit of our divine toaster* and doctor of salvation) on which he delifers to us the most important and sublime lessons of all virtue, and of eternal life. By learning de- voutly to relish his venerable cross. We deeply imbibe these sentiments* becothe more and more crucified to the world and to self-love, ate happily transformed into the new man, and bear his image in out Souls. Here all objects change their colours, and are presented in their true light, very different from that in which they appear in the eyes of the world, and the passions. Here the so til lives in the very flames of the divine love, and her heart itself becomes all flame* whilst she contemplates the excess of love, triumphing id the breast of our God and Saviour, for love of us vile sinners, nailed to the cross, and sprinkling it with his blood, to seal his new testament, or alliance, and to confirm his law of love. Here we learn the true love of our neighbour, which Christ so earnestly presses Upon us from his cross, both by word and example. Here perfect meekness and hu- mility are deeply imprinted in our hearts, the ^wo virtues which Jesus particularly commands us to learn of him, and which he most pathetically preaches to us from his cross. For where shall we go to learn these tilings ; but to the great school of the cross of Christ, in which humiliations become the object of otir glory and desires, and poverty of spirit is shown to be our most precious treasure. Here we begin to relish a true pleasure in suffering, and to regard as nothing all labour, fatigues, and crosses, in the service of him who has done and Buffered so much for us. What obedience shall we learn by contemplating Christ made obedient unto death, (Phil, ii* 8,) and learning obedience from those things which he suffered ? (Helm v.8.) In a word, whoever desires the glory of heavenly science and virtue* let him devoutly approach the cross, and read them therein. Here he will tneet with the most sublime doctritie, and the most moving lessons that were eter delivered. For Christ crucified is the most excellent pattern of all virtue, and the book of all spiritual knowledge. S. Paul studied to forget every thing else, bOcauSe he found in tne cross alone all true science. (1 Cor. ii. 2.) AIT true disciples of Jesus imitated this apostle, and bear evidence to the same truth. Where, says a celebrated Writer, did S. Bernard learn his ardent spirit of divine love, and unction of tender devotion, but from the sufferings of his Redeemer, of which he made himself a nosegay, always to carry about with him ? Where did the glorious S. Austin treasure up his spiritual science, but by feeding his soul, as he says, from the wounds of Christ ? It was from the book of the cross that the admirable S. Francis conceived his seraphic ardobrs* S. Thomas was indebted to it for his wonderful lights, and on all occa- sions had recourse, in the first place, to the foot of the crucifix. S. Bonaventure seems, sAys S. Francis of Sales, when he wrote the spi* ritual effusions of his soul, to have no other paper than the cross, no other pen than the lance, no other ink than what is dipped in the pre- cious blood of Christ* With what feeling sentiments aid he cry out, it is good for 09 to be with the cross? Let us make here three taber-

tMT

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hades* m* in his M another in his hinds, and i third in im sActed side. Hons I Will rest, I will watch, 1 will read, t Will f-sfteak, having always before my eyes this divine book, to Btudy in it the science of salvation during the whole day, and as often as I awake in the night. Dwelling in spirit under the branches of the cross, I will cry out with the spouse in holy transports : “ I have seated myself under the “ shade of him whom I had desired ; and his fruit is sweet to thf 11 throat. (Cant. ii. 3.) The prophet Jonas rejoiced exceedingly in “ the shade of the ivy bush, or gourd, which the Lord had prepared “ for him, and under which he reposed with great delight. (Jon. iv. “ 6.) Bui what ought to be the joy of Christians,” cries out S. Francis of Sales, “ is the holy cross of our Saviour, under which they rest, “ and refresh in spirit their wearied hearts, find a far more sweet, “ comfortable, and durable shade, and are defended and guarded by ** that sacred wood : we will then say : “ Let Jonas rejoice in ha “ ivy, let Abraham prepare a feast for the angels under the tree in " Mambre, let Ismael be beard by God under the tree in the desert* “ and let Elias bp fed under the juniper in the wilderness t as “ for our part, it snail be our comfort and our joy to dwell in Spirit “ under the shade of the cross. Here we will feast our hearts s its u fruits shall be our continual most delicious food : under it we will “ offer our cries and tears to the Father, through the Son, who made “ himself our sacrifice on this tree. Here we will cry with 6. Paul, “ (Gal. vi. 14,) God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of “ our Lord Jesus Christ.”* (Gab vi. 14.) Let the children of this world place their glory, and seek an imaginary greatness, pleasure, or felicity, in the base, filthy, fleeting, and criminal objects of vanity* pride, and sensual gratifications, by which they forfeit the Very dignity of their nature, and “ are made like to the senseless brutes,” (Ps. aim 21,) which, instead of content, fill the heart with emptiness, trouble, and bitteraes% and which pass like a dream or shadow. (Pe. Ixxv. 6; xxxviii. 7 ; (1 John ii. 7).) “ I saw the wicked man highly exalted,

“ hke the cedars of Lebanus : 1 did hut pass by, and behold, he was “ no more, and I sought him, and his place was not found.” (Ps. xxx vb 35.) Ted me, what are all the perishable riches and king* doms of the world ? emptiness, -vanity, and foUy i full of snares, evils, and sin. But the advantages and glory of the cross of Christ, and its spiritual kingdom, are immense and eternal. In it, therefore, we ought immensely to rejoice. It shall he our glory, because in it we have found redemption and salvation $ spiritual health, strength, and beauty ; and its fruits are grace, a glorious resurrection and immor- tality. Also because it is the dear pledge of the infinite love which Goa bears us, and the ensign of his victory over sin and the devil, and and of our triumph in him. Therefore we must justly glory in the cross i and this signal pledge of the infinite charity and mercy of the Son of God is placed with great honour in the whole church. The sign of the crosB has been the object of the devotion and glory of Christians through all ages; yet in these degenerate times it is re-

jS.Fr, Sales, Eatendart do la Croix.

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viled by heretics, and profaned and hot understood by Catholics. A short exposition of the doctrine and practice of the church will clearly detect and confute the error of the former, and correct the abuse of the latter. It is a capital duty, incumbent on every Christian, to be thoroughly instructed in every venerable observance and rite of his holy religion, especially if recommended by hourly and continual sacred use and devotion, from the origin and foundation of Christianity.

CHAP. VII.

On the devout Use of the Sign of the Cross .

Ip our divine Saviour be infinitely adorable and amiable to us, espe- cially under the most endearing title of our Redeemer, and on account of his sacred death and sufferings, every memorial of him, particularly of his crucifixion for us, must be dear and precious to us, and must excite in our souls the most tender and profound sentiments of adoration, love, gratitude, praise, and devotion; this mystery being the highest display of the power and wisdom of God. (1. Cor. i. 23.) Our devotion to this great mystery is chicly interior, and that of the heart. But this, if sincere, seeks frequently to ^ive itself vent, by breaking forth into various outward suitable expressions of the sentiments which glow in the breast : and reciprocally such outward acts, which proceed from the fervour of the heart, entertain and kin- dle more and more the flame of devotion in the heart. The soul nourishes her affections in silence by reflection, and inward acts of the will ; but this is not to be done constantly. So close and so necessary is the connexion of the soul and senses, in this embodied state, that they stand in need of their mutual intercourse and help. And he, who would confine his devotion merely within his own affections, though they are its proper seat, will be in danger of becom- ing in the end quite destitute. It is indeed a more fatal and crimi- nal state of hypocrisy, to place religion in bare outward professions and forms. But, on the other side, to neglect all outward marks, would be to reduce it to such a state of nakedness as would leave it in a short time no more than a shadow or a name. Hence S. Austin observes, that men never could be united or maintained in the obser- vance of any religion, whether true or false, without the use of cer- tain signs or symbols. If in the Mosiac dispensation, God was pleased to multiply outward rites, in order to withdraw a gross people from the danger of superstition and idolatry, and to conduct them in the paths of truth and virtue more by impressions of sense ; in the new law, Christ instituted his perpetual great sacrifice, and holy sacraments, and authorised by his own practice outward religious rites, and commissioned and gave authority to his apostles and their successors in the government of his church, to establish such other sacred rites and ceremonies as become the public worship, and are expressive of, and proper to excite devotion. The principal ceremo- nies used by the church at this day, in the administration of the sacra- ments and in its solemn worship, are clearly mentioned in the writings and monuments of the very first ages.* Amongst these religious rites A See the Institutionea Catholic® of Montpelier on the Sacraments, <fcci

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and ceremonies) from the very infancy of the church, the use of the

Xof the cross has ever been most sacred* and most frequent, in all r religious practices, and in every action. It is from the church we receive this practice, and from the tradition of all ages from the apostles. We cannot therefore fear any danger of being deceived.

The primitive Christians consecrated themselves to God, and implored his blessing in every action by forming on their foreheads, breast, or whole body, the holy sign of the cross. Of this the most ancient writers of the church are incontestable vouchers. Tertullian, the oldest amongst the Latin fathers,* mentions it in the following words : “ At every step when we walk, go out of doors, or come in ; “ when we put on any garment, or our shoes ; when we wash our- M selves, go to table, light a lamp or fire, go to bed, or sit down ; and “ whatever other action or conversation we are called to, we sign our “ foreheads with the sign of the cross. Of this, and other such prac- “ tices of discipline, if you require a law, you will find none in the “ sacred writings. Tradition is held forth the foundress ; custom “ has confirmed it, and fidelity has maintained this practice.” The same author tells| us : “ That Christians often prayed with their “ arms lifted up, and stretched out in the form of a cross, with a low “ voice, and casting down their eyes.”b With equal devotion and frequency was the sign of the cross used among the Greek and Oriental Christians, how distant soever in place, and how widely so- ever their languages, maxims, manners, and customs differed. Let S. Cyril, first catechist, afterward archbishop of Jerusalem, who flou- rished under the two first Christian Emperors, be voucher for the practice of the Greek churches. Instructing the Catechumens in the doctrine and religious observances of the Christian faith, in order to prepare them for baptism, he says :c “ Let us not blush at the “ cross of Christ. If another conceal it, do you form and bear it “ openly on your forehead, that the devils seeing the royal standard “ may fly far from you, and tremble. Make use of this sign when “ you eat, drink, sit, lie down, rise up, speak, or walk ; in a word, “ in every action,” Ac. St. Ephrem, the most ancient and illustrious doctor of the Syriac church, speaks to the same purpose ; and witn words of fire ; so warm is his devotion, whenever he mentions the cross of our divine Redeemer.*1 He styles it the armour of a Chris- tian, and says : “ Cover thyself with the sign of the cross as with a “ shield, signing with it thy limbs and thy heart : but content not “ thyself, to make this sign barely with thy hand ; sign thyself also “ with thy mind, and on thy heart still more carefully. Arm thy- “ self with this sign ; likewise at thy studies, at coming in and going “ out of doors, and at all times. Sign with it also thy bed, and what- “ ever thou passest by, or usest, sign first therewith in the name of “ the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. For this is “ an invincible armour, and no one can hurt thee if thou art covered

• Tert 1. de Corona , c. 2. g. 102. b Tert de. Orat. Dom.

« S. Cyr. Hieros. C&tech. 4. n. 10.

d S. Ephrem De PanopUd sen Armatura spiritual^ p.369. ed. Nov. Vatic.

“ with Jn kb sermon, On ike prisma and Mfe-givin# creasy* he says : a Let us paint and carve this life-giving sign on our do on, “ on our foreheads, on our eyes, mouth, and breast, and on all o«s “ limbs. Let us be adorned and armed with tfcb invincible armour “ of Chrbtians : for it is the conqueror of death, the hope of the 44 world ; the light of the utmost boundaries of the earth ; the opener 44 of the gates of paradise; the destroyer of heresies j the rampart of 44 the true faith ; the great and prophetical guard of the church* “ Fail not, O Christian, to carry this armour about with thee in every ** place, all day 9 and nights, every hour, every moment* Do nothing 44 without it. Whether thou composest thyself to sleep, or watches! 44 awake; whether thou art at work, or eatest or drinkest, or travel- 44 lest by land or water, or whatever else thou doest, sign and arm all “ thy limbs with this saving sign of the cross, and thou shalt never 44 fear.*

It has been the custom of Christians to begin and end alt prayer with the sign of the cross, and to repeat it very often in the holy Sacrifice, in every consecration, exorcism, and sacrament. Whence S. Austin writes & Which sign, if it be not formed on the fore* 41 heads of those who are baptised, or on the water in which they 44 are regenerated ; or on the oil with which they are anointed with 44 chrism ; or on the sacrifice with which they are fed, nothing in “ these things is duly performed.”® To the same purpose S. Chrys- ostom, says : “If a person is to be regenerated by baptism, the cross u is there employed ; if to be fed with the mystical food, if te be 44 ordained, or whatever else is to be done, this ensign of victory is 44 there. We carefully;paint it on our house, walls, and windows, and 41 on our foreheads, arming our souls with it.” Here be adds a pom- pous enumeration of the virtues and miraculous power of this saving sign. From this practice, which no Heretic in the primitive ages, durst so much as call in question, & Basil proves the use and necessity of tradition against Heretics. 44 If,” says he,d 44 we reject unwritten eus- 44 toms, we shall very much injure the gospel, and reduce fhhh to a 44 mere name : in which to mention the first and most common prac- 44 tice, who taught by writings that wo must mark those who hope in Christ, with the sign of the cross.”® S. Athanasius says of grace, or the blessing of meat before meals : 41 When thou art sat down at u table, and beginnest to break thy bread, having signed it with the 44 sign of the cross — give thanks.1* Hence in the liturgy, wove regularly to make the sign of the cross, at all evangelical words, at the end of the Gospel, Creed, Gloria in esteelsi.% &c., says Duran- dus, Bishop of Mandes.* The Greeks in all their different liturgies, the Maronites in their Chaldee liturgy, and the other Oriental Christians repeat the sign of the cross, even more frequently than the Latins.

• 8. Epbr. Serm. dcpretiost » Onset s p, 08T. ib. b 8. Aug. Tr. 118 in Joan. n. 5.

• Nihil eorum rite perficitur . S. Ang. Tr. 118. in Joan. n. 5.

d S. Clirysost. Horn. 54. (olim, 55.) in Matt. T. i. ch. 05], 552*

0 8. Basil. 1. de Spir* Sancto, c. 27. 1 8. Athan. 1. de Frrginit. a. 13.

f Durand. Mimatens. in Ratiomlt Divmorum OJfltiorum.

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These liturgies are formed upon the models prescribed by those apostles by whom each church was founded. That of Alexandria is derived as to the basis from S. Mark, whatever accidental additions may have been made upon the increase of the church in the three or four first centuries; that of Jerusalem from S. James the Less, and agrees with that explained by S. Cyril of Jerusalem ; and so of others. Yet they all agree, as in the essential parts of the sacrifice, so in the practice of repeating often the sign of the cross ; than which nothing can be a more convincing proof of an apostolic institution and precept.

The sign of the cross has always been used by the church as an excellent prayer to ask the divine blessings, through Christ’s precious death, and to consecrate our souls througn it to God ; and in particu- lar to arm ourselves with divine strength against our spiritual enemies^, visible and invisible. The martyrs armed themselves with it for their combats. In the acts of S. Eupiius, Martyr, in the year 204, it i$ recorded,4 that, 44 Before he answered the president, he boldly signed 44 his forehead with his hand.” In those of S. Theodotus, in 303,b it is said, that when he was going with others to carry off the bodies of seven martyrs, upon hearing a sudden noise, “affrighted, h|j 44 imprinted on his forehead the sign of the cross.” And when hq was apprehended, coming into the presence of the judge, he armec) his whole body with the sign of the cross.0 S. Romanus walked to the fire, carrying on his shoulders and on his forehead the royal sign of the cross, says the historian Eusebius, d and so of others. The saints have been accustomed to use it with particular confidence again# the devil, under all temptations ; the cross filling with terror that infernal fiend, who cannot stand the sight of the glorious instrument of his overthrow, by which he was stripped of his dominion over ouf souls. 44 All illusions and deceits of the devil are broken and driven 44 away by the sole sign of the cross,” says S. Athanasius.® He adds : 44 Let him who would make the trial come, and in the midst of 44 enchantments of devils, impostures of oracles, and illusions of sor- 44 eery, let him but make the sign of the cross, which they deride, and 44 he will immediately see how by it devils are chased away, oracles “Struck dumb, and magical charms dissolved.”^ The wonderfql power of this sign in breaking the stratagems of the devil, and expel- ling him from us, he frequently extols, and relates his life of S. Antho- ny,* that by it that saint banished the spectres and phantoms which the enemy nad raised to disturb him. S. Gregory of Nyssa gives us the like accounts of S. Gregory Thaumaturgus.h S. Gregory Nazian- zen, in his book to Nemesius, a Pagan,1 says, that whenever the devil raised phantoms to disturb him, he never failed to drive him away by the sign of the cross, though formed only in the air. In his short poem, entitled, Against the devil? he says, that in the cross of

* Ruinart. Acta Sincer . b lb. p 344. c Tatum mum corpus signo crucis muniens in stadium processit ap. Ruinart. d Eus. 1. de Resurrect, p. 368.

• S. A than. 1. de biemnatume Verbid n. 47. p. 88. T. i. ed. Ben.

f lb. cap. sequ. * S. A than, in vitk S. Anton, n. 13,

h S. Gr. Nyss. T. ii. p. 980. See him also T. iii. p. 648. and 673.

» P. 87a * P. 833.

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Christ he places all his glory, and bids the fiend to keep his distance and tremble, least if he approach be be struck with the cross, with which his whole body was signed, and which he bore in all his actions. The same father,* and Theodoret,b tell us, that when Julian the apostate, had by magic been suffered by God, to raise a spectre, in a sudden fright, by a habit which he had contracted whilst a Chris- tian, he made the sign of the cross, at which the phantom disappeared: and so a second time : whereupon the magician persuaded him, that his demons were fled out of abhorrence, not out of fear, or weak- ness. If any suspect tins to have been a hearsay report, at least* they must allow this to have been the constant doctrine and prac- tice of that early age. S. Gregory Nazianzen mentions, that under temptations, especially to anger, this sign was his buckler, to repel the enemies’ darts. “ Under any assault, fly to God, and intreat him “ to be your protection, to heal your passion, and to be propitious to u you, who have injured no one. Then arm yourself witn the sign of “ the cross, which all the devils fear and tremble before. This shield “ I have .ever used against them all.”® This advice S. Jerom gives to the Virgin Eustocnium :d “ If in bed you are assaulted by any •c filthy temptation, take up the shield of faith, by which all the fiery “ darts of the devil are extinguished. In all places, in every action, u let your hand form the sign of the cross.” To add one modern instance out of the many, S. Teresa assures us, in her own life,* that one day the devil, by a phantom appeared to sit on the letters of her book, to disturb her at her devotions ; but she drove him away thrice by the sign of the cross, and at last sprinkled the book with holy water ; after which he returned no more.

The saints, who since Christ have been endowed with the miracu- lous powers, most frequently employed the sign of the cross, in exert- ing them whether in exorcising demoniacs, and expelling devils, or in raising the dead, and restoring the sick to health. S. Austin relates in what manner Innocentia, a woman of Carthage, was healed of an incurable ulcer in her breast, by the sign of the cross formed upon it. S. Gregory of Nyssa, in his life of his sister, St. Macrina, tells us* that “she made the sign of the cross on her eyes, mouth, “ and heart. She hung about her neck, an iron ring, in which was u enchased a particle of the true tree of life.” And he relates, that when she was reduced to extremity by sickness, she was miraculously restored to health by the sign of the cross formed by her mother at her request upon her breast. The ancient most authentic lives of the saints of the primitive ages, are full of histories of miracles wrought by the sign of the cross. See those of S. Paul, S. Hilarion, and others, by S. Jerom : those compiled by Theodoret, the illus- trious bishop of Cyrus/ S. Martin employed this sacred sign in

* Or. 3. in Julian. b Hitt Eccl. 1. iii. c. 1.

e S. Gr. Naz. Cam. adversns I ram, p. 333.

d s. Hieron. ep. 18. al. 33. ad Eostoch. See also his ep. ad HeHod. Likewise S. Austin. 1. 1. Conf. c. 11. n. 17. & Enarr.

* Ch. 31. p. 206.

* Theodoret. Hist. Eccl. 1. v. c. 21. Hist Relig. c. 2, 3, 8, 9, 13, Ac.

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performing continual miracles, and made it his buckler against all dangers and phantoms of the devil, of which Sulpicius Severus has recorded long histories.* Victor the learned and pious bishop of Vitis,b tells us, that S. Eugenius of Carthage, by it restored sight to a blind man named Felix. Nothing is more manifest than that this was the practice of the church in all countries, how different soever in manners, customs, and even in many points of ecclesiastical disci- pline ; and that it was every where confirmed, from the first a^es of the church, bv the doctrine and example of all its most eminent, most learned holy bishops, teachers, and saints. The same was so frequently confirmed by miracles, that S. Chrysostom calls the sign of the cross, “ A defence against all evil, and a medicine against aH sickness."1* And the like epithets are frequently given it by other fathers.

In the sign of the cross is comprised the excellency of every kind or form of prayer ; in the first place, acts of faith, hope, and charity, the three theological virtues by which we glorify God by the rational homage of our hearts. It is both an inward and an outward act or profession of faith. The fundamental mysteries which the Christian religion essentially obliges us explicitly to believe and profess, am the Trinity of persons in the Unity of the Godhead, and the Incar- nation and death of the Son of God for the redemption of Man. By using the word Name in the singular, not Names in the plural, we express the Unity of God, and by naming the three distinct persons, we acknowledge the Trinity. The very sign of the cross implies the belief of the Incarnation and death of Christ. Whilst the devotion of the heart forms these acts inwardly by the assent and attention of the mind, the words accompanied with the sign of the cross, are the most proper outward profession of the same. Hence the sign of the cross has always been looked upon as the most sacred badge, and distinguishing mark of Christians. The martyrs by it declared their faith before persecutors ; and a Christian being asked his religion, often answered by this sign rather than by words. Whdnce St. Aus- tin remarks,0 that if a catechumen before he was by baptism initiated in the mysteries of our religion, or admitted into the number, and allowed to partake in the privileges of a disciple of Christ, was asked what religion he professed, this he declared by making the sign of the cross. And to this day the Christians of all the different secta and countries in the East, have so strongly imbibed this idea, that they cannot be persuaded that any are Christians who do not devoutly use this sign. As by faith the soul is raised above goods which are visible and temporal, so by hope she is raised to, and by love is put in possession of God and his spiritual and immortal gifts. Faith therefore is the foundation of the spiritual life of God in the soul, and hope and divine love raise the superstructure. Now the Cross being the motive of our hope, nothing can more strongly excite and

* Snip. Sev. in Vita S. Martini, & in Dialog. * De Parsec. YandaL 1. ii. c. 17. p. 94. « S. Chrysost T. xi. p. 387. 4. ecL S*fil.

4 S Aug. Tr. 11. in Joan. T. iii, p. 376. ed Ben.

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animate, or in a more lively and proper manner express it. “ The “ Christian wants not the painful operation of circumcision,” says St. Ambrose, “ who, carrying about the cross of our Lord, writes “ every moment the contempt of death upon his forehead, knowing . “ that tie cannot attain to salvation without the cross.” By this sacred sign we express our hope of pardon, grace, and everlasting life, through the precious death of Christ, by which alone we can be saved. The same is an act of love, adoration, praise, and sacrifice. The more amiable and adorable Christ is to us in his sufferings, and to how much greater indignities and torments he subjected himself for our sake, the more ought the emblem of his sufferings, of the greatest effort of his love, and our redemption, grace, and glory, be most dear, precious, and adorable to us. By this sign we show that we hlush not at his humiliation : but look upon it as his and our own high- est glory, and that we may pay him all honour, praise, and homage for die same ; and in the most profound sense of gratitude and devo- tion, consecrate ourselves to him for ever, bear in mind his mercy by which we are redeemed, and confess his greatness and glory, both in the infinite majesty of his divinity, and in the beautiful stole of his humanity. By the same we profess ourselves his followers ; for the Cross is the ensign and badge of our order, and the arms of our hea- venly King, our God, and crucified Saviour. Let others boast of garters, ribbons, and stars, which are worn and gazed upon, because the badges of worldly honours conferred by princes ; we will think it the highest honour, and the greatest advantage and happiness, to wear the livery, and bear the holy ensign of the King of kings, expressive of his greatest mysteries. By it we glorify him for the indignities he was pleased to suffer for us, and proclaim aloud the honour of his Cross, which though before his death an object of infa- my and disgrace, is now planted on the forehead of Kings,* since Christ has by this wood, not by steel, triumphed over hell, and sub- dued the world to his spiritual kingdom. By making the sign of the Cross, we remind ourselves of the great example and lessons of patience, humility, and all virtue which he has set us, and declare purselves sous of the Cross, enrolled under its banner : bound always to carry it in our hearts by our love of humiliation, and in our bodies by the practice of mortification and penance. To use continually the sign of the Cross, yet to live enemies to it, and strangers to the spirit of Christ crucified, is to be a scandal and reproach to our religion. Christians therefore dishonour the Cross, when they use this sacred sign without devotion: and infidels and heretics who deride and condemn it.

The latter, who charge th is act of devotion with superstition, seem tp forget that they allow the piety and obligation of the duty of reli- gion in offering to God the outward as well as inward homage of adoration, praise, invocation, and love. This they do by words, which are only signs. Why then should other deceut and suitable signs or symbols authorized by the church through all ages, be deemed super-

* 8. Aug. Enarr. in Ps, 54.

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siitioug, BHboe they are but to the eyes, what words are to the earn; and are equally the expression of the inward homage of the heart. Some object that the instrument of a parent’s death, ought to he an object of our abhorrence ; but this can hold only, when his death was an infamy* That of our Redeemer is the summit of his and of our glory. If Christ crucified be a stumbling block to the Jews, and foolishness to the Gentiles, to them that are called he is the power of God and the wisdom of God. (1. Cor. i. 23.) To use this sacred sign without attention, or without any sentiment of devotion, is to profane it, and to mock God. We must use it, with the primitive Christians, to consecrate ourselves in every action of ours to God by it, to implore his blessing and grace, through the precious death of our Redeemer, to vanquish the devil, and repel his assaults, and to offer to God through Christ the homage of our hearts, by a sacri- fice of iaitb, hope and love.

CHAP. VIII.

Holy Saturday or Easter Eve.

Tn burial of Christ, or rather Christ lying in the sepulchre amongst the dead, and the descent of his blessed soul into beU, are the mysteries which ought this day to occupy our devotion ; on which the meditations on the life of Christ may be consulted. The church anciently allowed no Mass to be said on this day, to express her deep mourning for the loss of her divine spouse. At present the office snd Mass of the Resurrection, which were anciently said at mid- night, are anticipated and performed a little before noon. Though during this part of the office, the devout Christian’s attention is taken up on our Lord’s Resurrection, he will return to consider the glory of his sepulchre the rest of the day. For this long office was formerly begun at three o’clock in the afternoon, by blessing the fire, and then the Paschal candle. After this the andent prophedes were mad, the font blessed, and baptism solemnly administered. After Matins, at midnight, the Mass of the Resurrection was celebrated ; and the faithful continued watching in the church from three o’clock in the afternoon till morning on Easter-day. The hour usually Plotted for evening-song being taken up with the other offices, Ves- pers were fbr some time quite omitted. When this divine service was nuticipated in the morning, they were thrown into the close of it, but *o abridged as to have only one short psalm.a

In The first part of the office is the blessing of the fire : which rite is wry andent, and found in the oldest liturgical books, though at Rome it was sometime performed on Maunday Thursday, as appears from the old Roman order published by Mabitlon, and by the letters eff Pope Zachary .b

The church has been accustomed often to bless most things the faithful make use of in common life. Hence in the most andent

* See Martenne, de Officiis divinis, c. 24. Item. L de Anftyuis Eoclerise ritibwi,

b Apud Baron, ad. an. 761.

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rituals we find proper blessings for a new house, a new dwelling-place, a new bed, a new ship, candles, bread, new fruit, food of every kind, water, &c«* It is only by the divine blessing that any creature can be serviceable to us, and evil spirits restrained from every where hurting us. It is then a part of religion to beg that God would be pleased to give his divine blessing to his creatures, when we make use of them ; by which prayer we also acknowledge that we receive and hold all things of him, and use them in his name. Whatever is em- ployed in his service at the altar, ought first to be blessed, and such nas always been the custom of the church. Even respect for the di- vine service seems in some measure to require this, that creatures, which in the language of the holy scripture groan under the slavery of corruption, and are often the instruments of the pride, vanity, and intemperance of men, who abuse and pervert them, should be puri- fied and consecrated to God, before they are used in his immediate service. The mystery of Christ’s resurrection being the spiritual re- novation of the world, Easter has always been esteemed the most suitable season for blessing many things we make use of. Fire en- lightens our altars and churches, and is of great and continual use in our natural and civil life : it therefore ought to be blessed, and before the Paschal Candle, for which it is required. And it is the custom for all lights and fires to be put out, and lighted up anew from fire struck from a flint, and blessed. This new fire represents Christ rising to kindle in our hearts a new spiritual fire of his love ; the old profane fire of our earthly passions being first extinguished in us by his victory over sin. It likewise serves symbolically to put us in mind of our obligation of walking in the newness of a spiritual hea- venly life, being now risen with Christ by his grace.

The blessing of the Paschal Candle is performed by the Deacon, who, in this august ceremony, as the herald of heaven, announces to the chu|di the glorious resurrection of Christ, his unutterable tri- umph muiis mystery, the wonderful display of his infinite mercy and goodness, and tne happiness of man restored by the accomplishment or seal of the great work of his redemption. The Paschal Candle, and its solemn blessing, are mentioned in the most ancient Sacramen- tary or Missal of Pope Gelasius ; and in the fourth Council of Toledo of 62 Bishops, in which St. Isidore of Seville presided, St. Gregory Nazianzen, and other Fathers, speak of it in the most pompous terms. Ennodius, the learned and pious bishop of Pavia, in the beginning of the sixth century, has left us two forms of prayer for the blessing of this candle. From him we learn, that droppings or particles of the wax thereof, after Low-Sunday, were distributed among the people, who burnt them in their houses against the influence of evil spirits :b in which there was no superstition, if the effect was not certainly ex- pected, because it was hoped for and asked of God through the public prayers and blessings of the church, directed for that end.

• See the Roman Ritual and Missal, and those of other churches, especially such as are most ancient.

b Ennod. Op. T. i. 1721, 1723, ed. Sirmundi.

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The Paschal Candle is an illustrious emblem of Christ rising from the dead, the light of the world, and is a sign which announces to us the joy and glory of his resurrection. The five grains of frankin- cense fixed in it, symbolically represent his five precious wounds, and the embalming of his body at his burial, and again in the grave, by the devout persons who brought spices to his monument. This great candle anciently gave light during the watching in the church on Easter-eve in the night.

The custom of different churches varies as to the time when this candle is lighted : the most usual practice is, that it burns at high Mass, or Vespers, every day during Easter week ; and every Sunday and holiday to Ascension-day, on which it is taken out of the church, immediately after the gospel is sung at high Mass. According to the new Paris rite, it burns to the end of the Paschal time, or to Whitsuntide.

The triple candle arising from one stock, signifies the Trinity of persons 'in one God, or the light of the Triune God shining to the world through Christ. This only burns during the office of holy Saturday morning : after which it is taken away, and no more made use of, not even on Easter-day, or during the Octave.*

Twelve prophecies from the Old Testament are read for the in- struction of the catechumens and faithful ; and as an introduction to their end and accomplishment in Christ’s resurrection. In these is displayed the most merciful providence of God, continually watching over man, conducting him from his fall to his reparation in Christ. The sighs of the saints of the old law for their great deliverer are interspersed.

In all parish churches the baptismal font is blessed, after which baptism is solemnly administered, if any are presented to receive that sacrament, according to the ancient discipline, on Easter and Whitsun- eve. Where it can be conveniently done, some person or persons ought to be baptized, as St. Charles Borromeo puts pastors in mind. At Rome, some converted Jews, or such other adults, are prepared during Lent, and baptized with great solemnity in the Lateran church, by the Cardinal Vicar, on Easter and Whitsun-eves. Where no adult converts are to be baptized, in populous cities, infants born a day or two before, may be often presented at the font on this occasion.

The celebrant, with the deacon and subdeacon, lies prostrate at the foot of the altar, whilst the Litany is sung to implore the divine mercy for the pardon of sin, and all divine graces, through the sacred mysteries of Christ’s death and resurrection. The Prophecies and Litany supply the introit of the Mass, which is therefore omitted.

The solemn Mass of Christ's Resurrection is said after the Litany towards noon, which was still sung at the midnight following in the time of St. Thomas Aquinas. By repeated Alleluias we are invited to spiritual joy and praise. HaUelu-Jah is a compound Hebrew word, which signifies Praise ye the Lord> an usual pious acclamation of spiritual joy and praise.

* See Gavant Comm, in Rubric. Missalis, p. 2 73.

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The deeper our sorrow and compunction for sin, and the sense of our spiritual miseries are, and the more tender part we hear by com* passion in the sufferings of our divine Redeemer, the greater wfll be the jubilee and devotion we shall feel in our hearts from the glorious triumph and joy of his resurrection. But alas ! how faint has oar compunction been for our sins, how weak our feeling for the bitter agonies which our loving Saviour underwent for us ? Our mother the church has been plunged in grief, and covered with mourning. Have we ever wept with her ? If we are not sensible what reason we have to weep, how deplorable must he our blindness and hard- ness of heart? When Jeremy lamented the fall of Jerusalem, and the captivity of the people of God, all his grief and tears could not avert those calamities. But our sorrow will be the remedy of our evils. These tears prepare our souls for soHd joy. We are members of that church which sanctifies herself and her children by her tears, and before we could be enrolled in their number, by the most solemn protestations, we renounced the vain joys of the world. Shall we not be faithful to our engagements, fly the dissipation and vanities of the world, and be penetrated with such a sense of our miseries as will be in us a fountain of tears ? O holy church, my tender mother ! O devout servants of God weep for me ! weep in particular out of compassion for my wretched insensibility that I do not weep for myself, aud for those evils and sins for which the Sob of God poured forth torrents of tears and blood. Divine Saviour, % inay it be our only comfort and joy to attend you in spirit, in your sufferings and death, and unite our sighs and tears with your preciois blood. If we thus follow you at Gethsemani aud on Mount Calvaty, we shall also share in the joy of your resurrection, and sing triumphant Alleluias in your traiu of devout loving souls.

ON THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD.

CHAP. I.

On Easter Day .

The Jewish Passover, called by them Pascha , was kept by the Jews in memory of their miraculous deliverance from the bondage of Egypt, by the slaughter of all the first-born of the Egyptians; the name was derived from the Hebrew verb Pasach, which signifies to pass, or leap over ; because the destroying angel, who slew the first- born of the Egyptians, passed over the houses of the Hebrews without

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hurting their first-born, their doors being marked with the blood of the Paschal Lamb, which was killed the evening before, and was ah illustrious type of Christ, who by his precious blood delivered us from the tyranny of the devil. This great feast the Jews kept on the fourteenth day of the first month of the Ecclesiastical, or sacred Lunar Year, called by Moses Abib, by Esdras, and the later Jews, Afoan, (Exod. xii. 46 ; Numb. ix. 12; (John xix. 36),) corresponding to the greater part of our March, and part of April. This was the moon of the vernal equinox, and was the seventh month of the civil year of the Jews, which they followed in all computations, in secular aflairs, and which they began from the month 7tm, or the autumnal equinox.

The Paschal Lamb, which the Jews killed, tore to pieces, and eat, and whose blood preserved them from the hand of the destroying angel, was a figure of the death of our Saviour, and of his blood spilt for our redemption. “ Christ, our Pasch, is sacrificed,” says St. Paul : (1 Cor. v. 7 :) By his resurrection he put the seal to this great work, which mystery we commemorate on the Sunday after the four- teenth of the moon of March, or which begins in March. This festival is the true Christian Pasch, aud is called in the English- Saxon language, Easter- Day.*

In the beginning of the church, the Jewish converts, in some places, kept this solemnity on the fourteenth day itself, the same on trhich the Jews celebrated their Passover. The Apostles had the condescension to allow them this liberty, to show the Jews, that the gospel of Christ did not condemn the Mosaic law, which it had made void by fulfilling it. But the Christian Paschal feast was in general appointed by the Apostles to be kept on the Sunday that followed the 14th day of the moon of March. The Roman, and all other churches of converted Gentiles, observed this rule. The contrary custom was only tolerated for some time, that the synagogue might be buried with honour, as St. Austin says of the legal ceremonies in general.6 But that reason gradually losing its force, the church abolished more and more the practice of typical observances, which from the time of Christ’s death, and the confirmation of the new alliance, or covenant, had lost both their obligation, and all their vir- tue and meaning. Those Jewish converts to Christianity, who pre- tended that Christians lie under an obligation of observing the Jewish ceremonial precepts, were from the beginning condemned Jby the church, are one of the first sects of heretics that arose in the church, are called the Nazareau heretics, and are refuted by St. Paul in his Epistle to the Galatians, &c.c The church’s condescension in tole-

* This name signifies the feast of April : for the English-Saxons called that month Eoster, from their Goddess of that name, as Bede informs ns,l. de Ratione Tetnporum, c. 13. See Alford. Anna!, ad ann. 449. Thongh Dr. Spark e and Vendegan (Ant p. 20,) derive both Ostcr Monut, or the month of Apnl, and the name of Easter, bom Gent, or Oost, rising, or the East ; or from Otieren, Resur- rection.

b St. Ang. ep. 19.

« John Toland, whose want of integrity in his principles pud conduct, plight to

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rating in converted Jews the use of several ceremonies of their law, continued till about the time of the destruction of the city and tem- ple of Jerusalem, in the year seventy, about forty years after the death of Christ. From that time the practice of the Jewish cere- monies has been ever condemned as superstitious. Two exceptions were, however, made for some ages. 1st. In abstaining from eating blood and things strangled,* which law was given to Noah and his children long before the Jewish dispensation, (Gen. ix. 4,) and con- firmed by the Apostles in the great Council at Jerusalem. (Acts xv. 28.) The other exception was the temporary toleration of those Oriental churches who kept Easter on the 14th day with the Jews.b Pope Anicetus tolerated that custom in St. Polycarp, when he came to Rome to confer with him on that head in 158.c Pope Victor, in J88, threatened Polycrates, Bishop of Ephesus, and the other Asiatics, with ecclesiastical censures, if they did not conform to other churches; but proceeded no farther. The greater part of the Asiatic churches were insensibly fallen into the practice of the church of Rome, when in 326, the General Council of Nice ordained that all churches should celebrate Easter on the Sunday that follows the 14th day of the moon of March; and the Emperor Constantine

have more discredited the cause of infidelity than his impious writings could sup- port it, wrote his Nazarenu c, to give a false history of these ancient heretics, pretending, that all the converted Jews were such in the beginning of the church, and that they believed Christ to be no more than a man, at most the greatest of the prophets : that the converted Gentiles remained still attached to their old superstitious ideas and practices, <fcc. ; and that Christianity, originally, was a very different system from what it is since become.

Mosheim, to sap the foundation of Toland’s impious book, wrote a book, enti- tled, Judicia antique Chrutianorum Ditciplituz, in which he pretends, that the Nazarean heretics only sprung up among the new converted Jews in the fourth century, when the Emperors began to believe in Christ. His only argument is drawn from the silence of S. Irenseus, Tertullian, Origen, and Eusebius, in whose writings no mention is made of the Nazarean heretics : from whence he rejects all that St Epiphanius and St Jerom relate concerning the antiquity of this sect It is, however, evident, from incontestable monuments ; and S. Austin, Origen, Ac. mention their erroneous tenets : whence Beausobre has refuted this mistake of Mosheim. See Beausobre, Dissert, star tes Nazareens a la suite du Supple- ment de la Guerre des Hussites. Mosheim himself afterwards fixes the origin of the Nazarean heretics at the time of the destruction of Jerusalem. See his Institutiones Hist. Eccles. printed in 1 755, Saec. 1. cap. 5. p. 67. See Toland’s Nazarenus refuted by Thomas Mangel, in his Remarks on the Nazar enus ; and by Paterson, in his Antinazarenus.

* Enforced by Can. A post 63. Tertullian, Origen, Clemens of Alexandria, the letters of the churches of Vienne and Lyons, Ac.

b It continued in force, out of respect to this decree of the Apostles, in many parts of the West, till the 12th century, as appears from the Penitential of S. Theodores of Canterbury, in England, the canons of Pope Gregory HI., «Src. In most Oriental churches the precept of abstaining from blood and things strangled is still in force. (See Bevendge in Cod. Canon, 1. ii. c. 7. § 5. p. 261.) Dr. De- lany, the learned Protestant author of the life of David, <fec. maintains, that Christians are still obliged to observe it. See his book, The Doctrine of Absti- nence from Blood defended^ London, 1734. See also Steph. Curcellseus, Diatribe de esu Sanguinis , Op. Theol. p. 658, and the.Dissertations of Natalis Alexander Graveson, Ac. on this subject

• S. Iren. L iii. c. 3. Us. 1. v. c. 24. S. Hier. de Script c. 17.

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caused this decree to be published throughout the whole Roman empire. Those who obstinately adhered to their old practice, were from that time looked upon as schismatics, and called Quartodeci- mans .»

The feast of Easter is the regulator of all the other great move- able festivals of the year, and has always been celebrated in the church with the greatest solemnity, as the first among the five prin- cipal feasts of the Christian religion. The administration of the most holy sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist, is performed on it with the utmost solemnity ; and the church commands all her chil- dren to receive the latter on it, threatening otherwise to cut them off from her communion, so that a disobedience to this heijsrecept is a kind of voluntary excommunication of a person’s self. Those, in- deed, who are found unclean on this festival, are obliged to defer their JPasch, by the advice of their spiritual director, and make it ou the second month , with the unclean in the old law. (Num. ix. 6, 7, 10, 11.) The forty days’ fast of Lent is instituted at this time, to be a preparation to this great festival, and it is distinguished by every other privilege. “ This,” says St. Gregory Nazianzen,b “ is the fes- “ tival of festivals, and the solemnity of solemnities, as far above all “ the other feasts in the year, even of Christ himself, as the sun out- “ shines the stars.” This distinction and extraordinary devotion were due to the great mystery which we commemorate on it : a mystery, great in the ancient types and prophecies, by which it was foretold ; great in itself, and great in its fruits.

The mystery of Christ’s resurrection was foretold many ways by the ancient prophets. Osee proclaimed that our Redeemer, the new Samson, would throw himftelf upon death as upon his prey, and should vanquish and tear in pieces that furious lion. “ 1 will redeem them “ (the Israelites) from death : O death, I will be thy death ! O hell, “ I will be thy bite !” or according to the Hebrew, “ I will tear thee “ with my teeth.”0 (Osee xiii. 14.) Which St. Paul renders by an interrogation : “ O death, where is thy victory ?” or conquering power. (1 Cor. xv. 53.) The same prophet said in another place? (Osee vi. 3 and 4,) “ He will revive us after two days : on the third “ day he will raise us up, and we shall live in his sight,” &c. The plural number is here put, because Christ raised his elect with him, or the souls of all men by his victory for them. Those who would understand this passage of some temporal deliverence, can find none

* The Irish and Scottish churches, in the 6th and 7th centuries, were engaged in an erroneous custom of keeping Easter with the Quartodecimans, when the Sunday fell on the 14th day, in all other years with the universal church : but were brought over to perfect conformity very soon after the year 700. See Bede, Adamnan (ap. Mabil. Act. Bened. T. iv. p. 566.) the Notes on the Life of S. Wilfred, 12 Oct. p. 231. S. Columba, July, 6. p. 39, Ac. ed. Lond.

b S. Greg. Naz. Or. 42, de Pascha ii. p. 476. e See Pocock, pn. 669, 672.

d See on this passage Tert. ad vers. Judseos, c. 13. S. Cypr. adv. Judse, c. 25. S. Cyr. Hier. cap. 14. n. 14. S. Aug. 1. xviii. De Civit. c. 28. S. Hier. hie. 9. S. Greg. M. Horn. 20, in Ezech. S. Bern. Serin, in die Paschse, n. 8. See our Interpretation on this Passage proved by Dr. Hammond in c. 12. Mat. and by Pf. Pocock, Com. on Hosea, ch. vi. v. 2, pp. 253, 254, 255, T. ii.

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of the tithe here minutely set down on the third day. And the me# learned Rabbins themselves, quoted by Galatinus and Pocock, have always understood this passage of the Messiah delivering or raising up his people. Isaiah tells us, that the prince of the world flattered himself he should be able to hold it for ever captive, and should ex- tinguish light in its very source by the death of Christ, and swatfo# up him who is the Resurrection and the Life ; but unknowing con- tributed to his own overthrow 5 fbr Christ would deliver aH nations. “ He shall cast death down headlong for ever : and the Lord God “shall wipe away tears from every face.” (Isa. xxiv. 8.) David clearly spoke of Christ's resurrection, when in the person of Christ he said : “ I foresaw the Lord always before my free 5 for he is oh “ my right hand that I should not be moved. Therefore did my 44 heart rejoice, and my tongue was glad ; moreover also my flesh “ shall rest in hope, because thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, “neither wilt thou suffer thy holy One to see corruption.'' (Pa. xv; Hebr. xvi. 8, 9, 10.) S. Peter, preaching to the Jews, (Acts ii. 41,) shows that David spoke this under his own person of tne Messiah, who, according to the flesh, was to descend from him, and sit on his throne, or reign over the people of God: for David's body re- mained and putrified in his sepulchre, “ which is with us even to this 44 day," says the Apostle. Therefore he spoke this of Christ, who rose alive out of the grave, “ and saw no corruption 5 whereof," adds he, “ we are witnesses.” This reasoning of St. Peter was very wefl understood 4>y the Jews, and so convincing, that, “three thousand “ souls were that day added to the church,” and baptised into the faith of Christ. St. Paul also urged this same passage. (Acts xiii. 35.) Besides express words of prophecy,® several predictions of this and other mysteries were held forth in types and figures, which are clear and unexceptionable when applied by Christ himself, especially when, not for illustration, but in the spirit of prophecy, as that of Jonas’s being three days and three nights in the whale’s belly. (Jon. ii. 1 ; Mat. xii. 40 ; see (Ps. ili. 6) ; xxix. 1, 2 ;’ Ps. xlvfii. 16 5 Ps.ir. 12 ; (Ps. lxx. 23) (Ps. lxxvii. 5) (Ps. cxii. 7), 8 ; (Isa. xxv. 8); OseeVi. 3 ; Osee xiii. 14 ; Soph. iii. 8.)

Christ often clearly foretold his Resurrection during the course of his ministry. After his transfiguration, he gave this charge to the three disciples who had attended him : “ Tell the vision to no man* “ until the Son of man be risen again from the dead.” (Mat. xviii. 9*) In another place he said to his disciples : “ But after I am risen, “I will go before you into Galilee.” (Mat. xxvi. 32.) Again: “From that time forth Jesus began to show to his disciples, how that “ he must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the Elders and

a Josephus, the Jewish Historian, in his famous testimony concerning Christ writes : (l. 18. A ntiqu. c. 4.) “ After three days he appeared to them raised again “ to life, seeing the divine Prophets had foretold of him this and other wonder- “ ful things.” And the celebrated Rabbin Jehuda Haccadosh says : “ The soul “ of the Messias after three days shall return to the body, and go ontof the stone “ under which he was buried.” See the book of R. Abraham, entitled Revckttu Arcana , quoted by Galatinus and Huetius.

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“chief Trieste and? Scribes, and be killed, and be raised agaht the “third day.** (Matt, xvk 22.) When He foretold his sufferings and death, he added ; “ And the third day he shall rise again.” (Matt* XX. 16, 19.)

Yet these predictions were hut imperfectly understood, or attended to, by bia disciples themselves, till after their accomplishment, as the Apostles themselves assure us. (Luke xxiv. 37.) Therefore, after the death of their master, they fell into a state, not of despair or in* fidelity, but of perplexity and confusion, not knowing by what means Christ now dead would 9ave them, and having no expectation of his Resurrection fbr the present. This, their dulness and slowness in Understanding, served to render the evidence and the glorious effects of this mystery more illustrious. Yet . even the Jewish Priests had heard that he had foretold he should rise again on the third day. (Luke xxiv. 46*)

CHAP. II.

The History of Christ* s Resurrection .

Ovnt divine Lord expired on Good Friday about three of the clock in the afternoon, and his body was laid in the sepulchre before the stars appeared, when the Sabbath begun, at the first Vespers or evening : nay, an hour before sunset* the Jew9 being accustomed, fbr greater caution, to begin the Sabbatical rest from all kind of work so early. It was a new monument, hewed or hollowed into a rook in a garden, not far ftrom the place of our Lords crucifixion, which Joseph of Arimathea bad made for his own use. His sepulchre was that of the rich, and most honourable, though his death had been like that of the wicked* and both most ignominious and cruel, (Isa* xix. 41, 42*) which circumstances had been foretold by Isaiah. His burial was performed by the care of Joseph of Arimathea, a rich man, and an honourable counsellor, (Matt, xxvii. 57 ; (Mark xv. 43),) assisted by Niohodemus, a Pharisee of distinction, a ruler among the Jtews, and a master in Israel, (John xix. 39, 40,) and his body was wrapped in linen clothes, with a mixture of myrrh and aloes* about an hundred pound weight. Joseph, with his assistants, bad shut up the mouth of the sepulchre with a great stone. (Mark xv. 47 ; Matt, xxvii. 61.) In a MS. copy of S. Luke's gospel, used by Bean, it is said, that twenty men couid hardly roll it. St. Mark folia us, tt it was very great.” (Mark xvi.) The chief priests of the Jbws witness, that the body of Christ was still in the sepulchre, the evenings after the Sabbath was over; for they obtained of Pilate leave to place a guard to watch the sepulchre, pretending to appre- head that his disciples might come by night, and steal away the body, and then give out that he was risen, according to what he him- self had predicted while he was yet alive* They accordingly set a guard, made sure the sepulchre, and put a seal upon the stone which closed up the entrance* They probably made their application to Pilate towards the close ef the Sabbath, after the religious duties of

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the day were over ; but would never go with the Roman soldiers, and put the seal, during the Sabbatical rest* That they did it on the day after the preparation to the Sabbath, or after Friday, we are assured by S. Matthew. (Matt, xxvii. 63.) The time of Christ’s resur- rection is gathered from that when the earthquake happened, which was about break of day on the Sunday morning : for tne pious wo- men having bought, mingled, and prepared more unguents and spices to fiuish the embalming of the precious body of tne Lord, which work the Sabbath had obliged them to leave imperfect, they set out very early in the morning, as S. Mark and S. John say : the latter writes, “ when it was yet dark and S. Matthew, “ the day begin- “ ning to dawn.” St. Mark says, they came “ at the rising of the “ sun,” but means the time of their arrival at the sepulchre. The earthquake, and the descent of the angel, happened after they set out, and before their arrival, (Matt, xxviii. 1, 2,) between the dawn- ing of the day and the sun-rising. For all the expressions of the Evangelists denote the ending of the night, and the beginning of the day.

The most glorious and stupendous mystery of Christ’s rising from the dead, of an angel descending in terrors, opening his sepulchre, and frightening away the soldiers who were set to guard it, with other amazing incidents ; the greatest of all victories, tne triumph of the Son of God over sin and hell, are related in the Gospels nakedly and plainly, without any of the colourings and heightenings of rhetoric, or so much as a single note of admiration ; without any comment or remark upon them, or any conclusion drawn from any circumstance. This manner of writing best suits mysteries superior to all the power of words, and incomprehensible in themselves, it shows the since- rity of the sacred penmen, and how strongly they were under the influence of the divine spirit, so as not to listen to the suggestions of human wisdom or passions which could not fail to call in the orna- ments of rhetoric, and the arts of logic, to endeavour to set forth such wonders in the blaze of their divine light. But their unbiassed simplicity is more noble in itself, and is analogous to the method which the all-wise spirit of God has pursued in all his works, espe- cially in the greatest of them, that of our Redemption by the humility of the Incarnation and Death of God the Son. This silence, or this fewness of words and simplicity, is more strongly affecting, and more proper to convince the understanding, than the most pompous elo- quence. But in the contemplation of this mystery, the strongest emotions and glowing sentiments of the heart ought continually to break forth in transports of adoration, love, thanksgiving, and praise. In this spirit must we read the evangelical narration of this wonderful mystery.

S. Matthew and S. Mark clearly distinguish at least two compa- nies of pious women, visiting the sepulchre early on the Sunday morning, and two appearances of angels, a which many interpreters

* See this demonstrated in Observations on the History and Evidences of the Resurrection of Jesus Christy by Gilbert West, p. 22.

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have confounded together. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary set out first very early, to take a view of the sepulchre, and see in what condition it was ; (Matt, xxviii. 1, 2, 3, 4 ;) so restless was their love, that they had not patience to wait for the spices, which they left for the other company to bring after them. Magdalene was on the road, when, behold, a great earthquake happened : “ For the angel “ of the Lord descended from heaven, and coming, rolled back tne “ stone, and sat upon it. His countenance was as lightning, and his w raiment as snow ; and for fear of him the guards were struck with “ terror, and became as dead men.” At the time when the earth- quake was felt round the monument, the Saviour of the world arose, by his own power and strength, and came forth living, glorious and triumphant, piercing the stone that closed the mouth of the monu- ment, as many ancient fathers aver.* Then an angel descended, re- moved the stone, and seated himself upon it ; at which sight the guards were seized with dread and consternation, and fell into a swoon or trance.b Magdalene arriving at the sepulchre, and seeing the stone taken away, in surprise and fear ran and told S. Peter and S. John, “ They have taken away the Lord, and we know not where M they have laid him.” (John xx.) She had then seen no angel or other vision, or she would have mentioned it. Peter and John ran straight to the sepulchre ; the latter outran Peter, and stooping and looking in, saw the linen clothes lying, yet went not in, waiting for Peter, who, coming up, went into the sepulchre, and saw the linen clothes lie, and the napkin that was about his head, wrapped together in a place by itself. Then S. John also went in, and saw the same, and believed ; which must be understood of divine faith,0 that being the scriptural sense of the word believing; though “as yet they “ knew not the Scripture that he must rise again,” says S. John. But he believed that Christ was risen, before he understood the pre- dictions of the Prophets concerning that mystery. After this they returned to the city, leaving Mary Magdalene weeping at the mo- nument. (John xx.) Whilst Magdalene went back to Jerusalem, to call S. Peter and S. John to the sepulchre, the other Mary and Salome, according to S. Mark, arrived with spices. Whilst on the road, they said to one another : “Who shall roll us away the stone from “ the door of ihe sepulchre ?” Upon their arrival they saw it was taken away, and entering the sepulchre, “ they saw a young man “ sitting on the right side, clothed with a white robe, and they were “ astonished.” Tne angel had left the stone at the mouth, and seated himself within the monument. Having laid aside his terrors, he saith unto them : “ Be not affrighted : ye seek Jesus of Nazareth who was “ crucified. He is risen ; he is not here. Behold the place where “ they laid him. But go ; tell his disciples and Peter, that he goeth “ before you into Galilee : there shall you see him, as he told you.

“ And they going out, fled from the sepulchre, for a trembling and

* See Suarez, de Mysteriis Christ «, Com. a Lap. dec.

b Mr. West will have it that Christ rose whilst the soldiers were in this trance and that they did not see him. e See West, p. 165.

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•‘fear had seized thettl; and they said nothing to any man, for they “were afraid,1 * (Mark xvi.,) till on the toad, Christ himself met them. (Matt, xxviii. 9*) S. Mark mentions, that those women brought spices to the monument ; a circumstance which S. Matthew omits, because it was well known to the Jews to whom he wrote.4

S. Luke mentions an appearance of angels at the sepulchre, (Luke xxiv.,) which many have confounded with that recorded by S. John. (Luke xxiv.) But It seems quite another, and made to Joanna and her company. For these women carried spices, found the stone removed from the sepulchre, and entering, found the body of Jesus was no more there. Whilst they stood perplexed, two men stood by them in shining garments, and said : “ Why seek ye the u living among the dead : He Is not here, but is risen.** Peter then arose, and ran unto the sepulchre, and stooping down he beheld the linen clothes laid by themselves, &c. This was a second tittle St. Peter went to the sepulchre, when he only stooped and looked in, but did not entet1 into the sepulchre, as before. And two different reasons are assigned by S. Luke and S. John of each : of the first, the report of Mary Mhgdalene ; of the second, that of Joanna and her company, who mention a vision of angels, with an assurance that Christ was risen. Mary Mhgdalette is mentioned at the head of most of those abridged accounts Of the visits of the pious women to the sepulchre, because she went first, and brought the first news of the removal of the stone, and signs of the resurrection, though then obscure. She was also the chief amottgst the womeh who had fol- lowed Jesus from Galilee, and attended him : whence she is often named in the History of Christ's Resurrection for her whole com- pany. Christ was pleased to discover to the Apostles this mystery gradually, the bettet to curfe their perplexity, and to make Its reality more evident. Had they expected his resuh-ection, or been less difficult in believing the first informations of It, the other disciples, and the world, might have suspected imagination might have had some share in what was Seett ; whicn their incredulity removes all shadow of, as well as of any conspiracy or design. S. Peter and S. John seem to have assembled the rest of the eleven Apostles and Disciples, upon the report of Magdalene, and upon what they had seen at the sepulchre.

Angels were the first messengers of this mystery ; but their testi- mony was soon confirmed by Christ himself. S. Mark tells us, (Mark xvi.) that, “ Early on the first day of the week, he appeared “ first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast Seven devils* S. John relates the manner in the following words: (Johtt xx.) aftet S. Peter and S. John had left the sepulchre to return to their col- leagues, and consider what Was trt be done, Miry remained behind, and u stood without at the sepulchre weeping ; and as she wept, she

* S. Matthew joins this speech of the angel to his account of the arrival of St. MaTy Magdalene at the sepulchre : bnt it was addressed to the second company, that came np after the departure. The particle & ought rather to be translated Bui , or Now, than And* See West, p. 23.

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44 stooped down and looked into the sepulchre, and saw two angels hi 44 white sitting ; the one at the head, and the other at the feet, wherfc 44 the body of Jesus had been laid; and they say unto her, Woman, 44 why weepest thou ? She Saith unto them : Because they have taken 44 away mv Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And 44 when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus 44 standing, and knew not that it was Jesiis. JesUs saith unto her: 44 Woman, Why weepest thou ? Whom seekest thou ? She, supposing 44 him to be the gardener, saith unto him : Sir, if thou hast taken 44 him hetice, tell me Where thou hast laid him, atid I will take him 44 away. JestiS Saith urito her, Mary! She turning, saith to him^ 44 Kabbotli, which is to say, Master. Jesus saith unto her: do riot *4 touch me ; for I ath not yet ascended to my Father. But go to 44 my brethren, and say to them, I ascend unto my Father ahd your 44 Father, and to my God, and to your God.* 8. Mark informs us, that 44 She went, and told them that had been With him, as they 44 mourned and wept i and they, when they heard that he was alive, 41 and had been seen of her, believed not,” (Mark xvi.) imagining it to have been a spectre, the Work of her imagination. It Is a trite, but most childish objection, of modern Freethinkers, that it Was only a Spectre, of at most a spirit, that acted this part, because Christ for- bade Magdalene to touch him. But Christ and the angels assure us lie was risen i he eat, gate the prints of his wounds to be touched and examined, &C. Here, when Magdalene, Out of Her ardent affec- tion, Would have embraced and held him, he forbids it, saying, sh6 Would have ttioTe opportunities of enjoying his presence, because he Was net yet ascended to his Father, So as to Withdraw his body from the earth. For the present he bids her g d without loss of time, and give Comfort to his sorrowful Apostles, by informing them that he Was risen.

JesuS having appeared fifSt to Mary MagdaleUe, discovered himself, 2ndly, to the other devout wdtrieh, Mary atid Salome, who were returning from the sepulchre, to carry the message of the angels to the eleven. 44 As they Went to tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met 14 them, saying, AH hail. And they came and took hold of his feet, 44 artd Worshipped him* (Matt, xxviii. 9-) 3rdly, He appeared to S. Peter, the first among the A postleS. 44 He was seen by Cephas, ( I Cor, xv. 5 ; (Luke xxiv. 34), 36,) and after that by the eleven,” says S. Paul. On the same day he appeared a fourth time to tWo disciples, who were going to Emmaus, a small town, seven miles from Jerusalem, in the road to Joppe. They had hedrd the report of Joanna* and the Women that were with her, that they had seCri a Visidn of angels at the sepulchre, and been assured by them that JeSus Was risen, and had reminded them of What himself had formerly spoken concerning his Sufferings, his death, and his resUreetion oti the third day, being foretold bylbe Prophets. The two disciples remembered that their master Had foretbla these things, and had seen his sufferings and death, and It was new the third day ; but they did not understand what was meant by his rising from the dead, or how it had been fore- told by the Prophets, whether by rising he was to be taken into hea-

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ven, or to live again amongst them, and in what manner, as the King of Israel, or otherwise ? In their way to Emmaus, they were debating the argument of the ancient prophecies, the circumstances of their master’s death, and the reports of the wonders seen at his sepulchre; and their affliction was visible in their countenances, when Jesus, joining them in the form of a traveller, asked what was the subject of their discourse, and the occasion of their sadne ss. One of them whose name was Cleophas, (and who was husband of Mary, sister of the Blessed Virgin, uncle to Christ, and father of S. Simeon, S. James the Lesser, S. Jude, and Joseph, or Joses,) informed him in such a manner as to declare a certain knowledge, that Jesus was a great Prophet ; but expressing a doubt since his death, whether he was the Messiah, as they had formerly hoped : Jesus having upbraided them for their weakness and slowness in comprehending the ancient prophecies, explained them, so as clearly to show, that Moses and all the Prophets, had foretold that it was necessary that the Christ should suffer death. Their hearts glowed within them all the while they heard him discourse : yet they knew him not. When they came to Emmaus, Jesus made a show as if he intended to go farther, but Cleophas and his companion detained him, saying it was towards evening, and they obliged him to sup with them. Jesus, while they were at table, took bread, blessed it, and having broke it, presented some of it to them. By his two actions, first, of thanksgiving to God, (without which the Jews never broke bread, such thanks being an acknowledgment and homage to the giver, and a petition of his blessing upon their food ;) and 2ndly, of his dividing it amongst them, their eyes were opened and they knew him. But he disappeared ar*d left them. Christ chose to convince them of his resurrection, first by reason, then by sense, that their minds being first prepared, their assent to the testimony of their senses should be given with the concurrence of their reason. The two disciples being thus convinced, returned that same hour to Jerusalem, where they found the Apos- tles assembled together, debating upon the several reports that had been made them that day, particularly upon what S. Peter had told them that he had that day seen Christ. The reports of Mary Mag- dalene, and afterwards of the other Mary and Salome, that Christ had appeared to them, seemed to them at first to stand in need of further information. But, though neither the time nor the particu- lars of Christ’s appearance to S. Peter are recorded by the Evange- lists, “ the Apostles seem to have laid a greater stress upon that alone “ than upon all those related by the women,” says Mr. West. “ For “ upon these two disciples coming into the chamber, they accost them “ immediately, without waiting to hear their story, with saying, The “ Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon but make no mention of any of his appearances to the women.4 Cleophas and his companion then related what had happened to them in the way, and how Jesus had manifested himself to them at supper. According to S. Luke, they now believed, upon S. Peter’s report, that Christ

• West,p. 118.

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was risen. (Luke xxiv. 34.) Yet S. Mark says, that they neither believed Cleophas nor his companion, (Mark xvi. 13,) because though they acknowledged that Christ was risen from the dead, they did not believe that lie had bodily appeared to those who pretended to have seen him, and to have had sufficient evidence upon that point. This also appears from S. Luke, who tells us, that when he appeared to all the eleven, they did not believe even their own eyes, but sup- posed they had seen a spirit. That this was their disposition is also clear, from the remedy which Christ applies to cure their unbelief, bidding them behold and handle his feet and hands. For whilst the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, and were entertaining themselves upon what St. Peter, and afterwards Cleophas and his companion had just reported to them, on Sunday evening, the' doors being shut, Jesus appeared in the midst of them, to give them the comfort which they so earnestly longed for. He saluted them, accor- ding to his custom, and said, Peacehe unto you. (John xx. 19 (Luke xxiv. 36) (Mark xvi. 14) (1 Cor. xv. 5).) He rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they doubted the reality of his corporal appearance, notwithstanding the testimony of those who had seen him, and who brought credentials with them that could not be refused, from the ancient Prophets. To make the argument more convincing and satisfactory, he added : “ Behold my hands and “ my feet ; that it is I myself : handle me and see ; for a spirit hath “ not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus;

“ spoken, he showed them his hands and his feet, (Luke xxiv* 40,)

“ and his side. (John xx. 20.) Then were the disciples, glad,

“ when they saw their Lord,” says S. John ; yet their minds were fluctuating about many circumstances, under the amazement, terror, and joy with which they were seized, and which did not suffer them to rise at once out of the distemperature of former doubts, perplexity, and prejudices of a glorious temporal reign of a Messiah. S. Luke adds: “ Whilst they yet believed not for joy, and wondered ,Jes\ifc “ said unto them, Have ye here any thing to eat ? and they offered “ him a piece of broiled fish, and a honeycomb. And when he had “ eaten before them, taking the remains he gave to them. And he “ said to them, these are the words which I spoke to you while I “ was yet with you, that all things must needs be fulfilled, which are “ written in the law of Moses, and in the Prophets, and in the Psalms,

“ concerning me,” viz., proving from them the necessity of his death and resurrection. “ Then he opened their understanding, that “ they might understand the scriptures. And he said to them, I “ send the promise of my Father upon you ; but stay you in the city “ of Jerusalem, till you be endued with power from on high,* by the descent of the Holy Ghost. This was the fifth appearance which Christ made on the day of his resurrection. By this last all the doubts of the disciples that were present were banished. By that which he made to S. Peter, its reality was constated to a degree of conviction ; though some doubts as to the manner, or whether it was in a body, or in some spiritual kind of existence, either remained 0f were afterwards raised, from his vanishing out of sight, when

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covprpd himself to the tfrq disciple* at Eqimaus. atifl from the sur- prise which his first appearance in the midst of the assembly gf the disciples raised in the’i* grind*. Bgt these scruple* wpre perfectly removed in the process pf his last manifestation of himself tq the whpJe assembly gf ten Apostles, £nd a great number of disciples, to whop) ho offered his body tQ hp towphedi anq showed his hands, feet, apd *i<fo. Every kind pf evidence had been qqw laid before them, apd they werp qnqbled, by the gift pf that Holy Spirit which inspired the Pfpphets, to underftapd the sacred Oracles which pointed put {he true marks and characters of the Messiah) an4 especially the pepessity of hjs sufferings, apd the glory of his resurrectipp.

.The gu*rds who h^d heep placed tp watch the sepplphrp, had hfop spized with fear at the earthquake, and the yi$ipu pf the Aqgpl 5 opt haying recovered them*elyes, some of them wept iqtp the pity, and informed the chief priests pf all that had happened. Herpupoq the chief priests apd plder§ assemhfod, and gave ^rge sums of moft®y ta the soldiery, cpargiftg the01 to say desuS^s disciples came hy night pad sfole away the corpse while they were asleep, prqmhdng fo spcurq them from harm, ip case the matter should reach the Qovernqr^ epr$* They tpoh the mqqey, and qwd as they were twght. And th^s w°Fh was spread abrqqd amepg lh® dews, pntq this day? says Sfat- tqew. (MaH' 170 The is repeated hy th® mpdet® Jewish Rahbips*“ St* Austin faCPtiPHsiy rallies the forgers of this mcpn-r sistept Sfory ;b' fpr persons, whft S¥d they w^e a5®®Pi cpu\dppt giye

evidence that tye bm*y *a$ stpiep. Sqm® pf the guards had pubr

lisbed the t^-pth i hpt they did ppt say they had seen Jpsqs rise fifom the grave* having bpep frightened iptp a *wpon or traPce at the ®m4h- qpake, apd tne sight of q t^yrihle appurlifon of the Ahgeh who rplfod

S' ray the sfone and sat uppn ^qd *he chief pripst* counterworked

e evidence pf (jne p^rt of the §qld;er$, by the testimony of ^hp *ubqrn- ed witncsses, which served to perplex the truth, aqdgftye a pretence to those who wefp afraid Qf discovering i.t> to calf tpe accounts of the earthquake, qr at Jepst pf \\ie apgeh dreams and illi^on^ With Unprejudiced and thinking people, this story carried its own cpnfutatiou with it. Nor was it credible that the disciples, wlyq w®?e struck whh auph a papic fear as pot to darp to show themselves in public, and were ignorant, plain, uudeaigning men, could undertake such an enterprize; or that the Roman soldiers, trained up under the strictest discipline, and placed theye but the evening before, should be all ssfoep at the same time, without png sentinel to watch, and should sleep so, soundly pnd so long, as not to be awakened either by thq rolling away of the stone, or the carrying off thq body, which required a great num- ber of hands, and a considerable length of time ? Rut Qod had chosen the apostles, not the guards or soldiery to be witnesses to the world of this glorious mystery. To them therefore he discovered it with the most rational and incontestable evidence, and furnished them with the most authentic credentials.

After the five appearances which Christ had made on the day of

f Jqstm, Dial, cum Tripbon. * S. Aug, in Ps*lmu»

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his resurreetion, ha forefiore visiting his disciples any more for eight days, that they might examine with a cool deliberate attention the evidences ha had afforded them, that their faith might be rational and well-grounded. St. Thomas was not with the rest on the Sun- day when Christ manifested hiqiself in the midst of the assembly* And so deeply rooted were his prejudices, that he not only refused to believe the resurrection of Christ upon the reports of others, but even Would not raly upou his own eyes, fancying it might be some appari- tion rather than Christ corporally risen. ** Except I shall see in his hands,” said he, “ the print of the nails, and put my finger into the place “ of the nails, and put my hand into his side, 1 will not believe.” There- “ fore, eight days after, when the disciples were again within, and “ Thomas was with them, Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood “ in the midst, and said ; Peace be tp you. Then saith be to Tho*- mas : Put in thy finger hither, and see my hands ; and bring hither ** thy hand, and put it into my side, and he not incredulous, but believing.” Thomas could not reject the very evidence he bad required, nor doubt of the veracity of him who knew all his thoughts : hot confessed him his Lord apd his God* Whereupon Jesus said npto him : “ Thomas, because thou bast span me, thou hast believed* Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed.” (John xx. 24.) After this we find no scruple left in the minds of any of the apostles: and hitherto the appearances of Christ seem to have been intended only for their conviction ; and those that follow rather for their confirmation and instruction in the faith, doctrine, and sacraments of the go&peU For the remaining thirty days he continued on earth, all his appearances are not recorded, but we are assured that he con- tinued nis visits to the disciples, “ being seen by them during forty u days after his passion, and speaking of the things pertaining to the “ kingdom of God,” (Acts L 3,) says S. Luke ; that is, instructing them in all things that regarded the establishment of his church ana their ministry ; for he Bent them not only as witnesses of his miracleq, death, and resurrection, but also as teachers and preachers of his faith, and as dispense;* and Banisters of his spiritual treasures and holy sacraments.

The angel, at the sepulchre, and Christ himself, both before and after his resurrection, had foretold, that he would go before, and would manifest himself to his disciples in Galilee. There he had lived about thirty years, had wrought the greater part of bis mira- cles, and had formed the far greater part of his disciples, and was most known. And there he could manifest himself to a much greater number of followers. Also the Apostles being all, or almost all, from Galilee, were obliged to return home to their affairs. All the males among the Jews, were commanded by the law of Moses ( (Exod. xxiii. 17) ; Deut. xvL 16,) to appear before the Lord ( at the tabernacle first, and afterward in the temple) thrice every year; namely, at the three great feasts of the Passover, the feast of Weeks or Pentecost, and the feast of Tabernacles. Each of these solemnities lasted a whole week. The apostles and disciples from Galilee had come up to Jerusalem, both to attend their master, mi in obedience to the law to keep the

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passover ; and having continued there, as they were obliged to do till the end of that festival, immediately after they had seen Jesus on the eighth day after his resurrection, when St. Thomas was with them, (John xx. 26,) returned to their own country. In Galilee Jesus first manifested himself to them at the sea of Tiberias, called the sea of Galilee. This is said by St. John (John xxi. 14,) to be “ the third time that Jesus showed himself to his disciples,” (in any numerous assembly of them) “ after that he was risen from the dead.” This consequently preceded his appearance on a mountain in Galilee by appointment, mentioned by S. Matthew. (Matt, xxviii. 16.) It seems to have been on this mountain that he showed himself to above five hundred brethren together in Galilee, which being subject to Herod, the disciples could assemble more freely, and in greater num- bers, and more frequently, than at Jerusalem, where the hatred and apprehensions of the chief priests and elders were increased, rather than extinguished, by the death of Christ. On the same account, Jesus, some time before his death, “ walked in Galilee, for he would M not walk in Jewry, because the Jews sought to kill him.” (John viL 1.) Greater numbers therefore were favoured with seeing Jesus in Ga- lilee. But when he had sufficiently instructed them in all things, he made his last appearances in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, and thence ascended into heaven. The Apostles and disciples were other- wise obliged again to repair thither about that time, for the celebration of the feast of pentecost, (Acts xi. 1,) during which they were covered from the danger of giving umbrage by their assemblies, whilst great multitudes, of their brethren, from all parts, filled every quarter of the city.

A Christian rests not on the bare history or narrative of Christ’s resurrection, but by entertaining himself upon it, by pious medi- tation and devotion, stirs up in his heart those interior sentiments, which dispose him to reap the fruit of this great mystery. We shall therefore here point out in general the principal affections of piety, which its contemplation ought to kindle m our souls, and the exer- cises of devotion with which we are bound to celebrate this great festival.

CHAP. III.

On the principal Dispositions of Soul , and Exercises of Devotion , with which every Christian is hound to celebrate the glorious So- lemnity of Christs Resurrection,

As angels proclaimed to the world the birth of Christ, so they an- nounced to us, in the persons of the holy women at the sepulchre, the joyful news of his glorious resurrection. Fear ye noty said the heavenly messenger, as if he had said : let those tremble at our sight, who, sinking under the weight of sin and impenitence, and under the yoke of the devil, which they have not courage to shake off, despair of attaining our company in the glory of heaven : but you, who see your fellow-citizens, need not be affrighted. Having calmed the fears of these devout women, he announced to them the great mystery

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which is the cause of unutterable joy and advantages. “ You seek “ Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified : he is risen ; he is not here.” (Mark xvi. 6.) At this news, what unspeakable joy must have over- whelmed their pure and loving souls ! This message belongs also to us, it proclaims to the whole world, in the person of these devout women, the great triumph of our divine Redeemer, and the accomplishment of our most happy and most glorious Redemption, with all its eternal and incomprehensible advantages. In what raptures ought we to listen to the voice of the divine Herald ! With what heavenly pomp and solemnity may we represent to ourselves the awful proclamation of this great mystery made to the world. Full of this thought, S. Gregory Nazianzen, giving full scope to the sublime flight and thunder of his eloquence, begins his second sermon on the feast of Christ’s Resurrection, by the majestic words of the prophet Habaccuc, spoken on occasion of a much inferior vision, and cries out : “ I will stand “ upon my watch,” says the excellent Habaccuc ; “ and I this day “ will stand with him : and being raised by the Holy Spirit, I will “ lift up my eyes, and contemplate what kind of wonderful mystery will be shown, and what will be said to me. I stood ; and behold, “ a man ascends glorious ; his countenance like that of an angel, and “his garments dazzling by their brightness like a flash of quick “ lightning. He lifted up his hand toward the east, and being sur- “ rounded with a multitude of the heavenly host, cried out with a “ loud voice as with the sound of a shrill trumpet, and said : On this “ day salvation is given to the world both visible and invisible. Christ “ is risen from the dead : arise ye with him. Christ has resumed his “ body : return to the state of happiness which you had forfeited. “ Christ has left the grave : break the bonds of your sins. The gates “ of hell are broken down ; death is vanquished ; the old Adam is “ destroyed, and the new Adam formed : be ye made a new creature “ in Christ.” At this wonderful proclamation, the heavens and the earth are filled with unspeakable triumph and joy, and resound with canticles of adoration and praise. We who have so great a share in the advantages of this solemnity, cannot remain silent. “Tocele- “ brate so great a mystery all the faithful are assembled,” says St. Gregory Nazianzen, in the same sermon.® “ Let every one bring “ presents to the best of his power, to honour so solemn a festival. “ Whether these are great or small, it matters not, provided they are “ offered with the greatest fervour and purity of heart, and are made “agreeable to God. For what could the angels present worthy of “ him, though those pure intelligences contemplate the divine glory “ so near, and praise God in so perfect a manner.”

We are called upon to present our homages of adoration, thanks- giving, praise, and love, in holy transports of spiritual joy. There are two sorts of joy ; the one spiritual, the other worldly and carnal; such will be our joy as our love is. If this be set on earthly and sensual objects, our joy will be earthly : if our love be heavenly, our joy will also be such, and will spring only from holy and spiritual

» Naz. Or. 42. (seii .2 de Pascha.)

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motives To this holy joy the church invito us on this solemnity, when she sings : “ Let the angelical troops of the heavens exult : let “ the earth rejoice,” 8f c. What signs are there among us of this spi* ritual jubilee of heart ? Perhaps there never were greater of that joy which our Lord foretold and condemned, when he said : The world shall rejoice (John xvi. 20) of a foolish joy iu worldly plea- sures and vanities ; in the gratifications of pride and the senses ; in the abominations of filth and 6in : the marks of which are dissolute mirth, worldly diversions, banquettings, revellings, and intemperance. Thus to rejoice is to celebrate festivals of the devil, not of God or religion. “ We are to leave high tables, excess, and care of the w belly, to the profane solemnities of the heathens.” Says St. Gre- gory Nazianzen:* “We who adore the Word of God, profess that ** we only seek the delights of the soul.” Those base joys are un- worthy of a rational soul, much more a Christian : they render a heart carnal, and altogether incapable of conceiving or relishing spi- ritual comforts. A soul must have renounced, and be dead to them, before she can rejoice in God and his holy mysteries. But if all earthly affections and attachment to sin be banished her heart, and all inordinate love of self and the world extinguished in her, then will the contemplation of this divine mystery kindle a fire of pure de- votion in her breast, and give that love and relish of spiritual things, which will be to her a source of heavenly joy. Certainly no Christian can consider the motives which it furnishes, and remain insensible.

If we have any true love for our own souls, or any desire of our own happiness and advantage, we must be overwhelmed with joy to see ourselves delivered from the slavery of the devil, and from everlast- ing misery. Christ, as an Almighty conqueror, has vanquished that merciless tyrant in whose chains we were held captive, and has kid him under our feet by his victory over him. Who ever heard of a miserable culprit, who after suffering the greatest miseries in a fright- ful dungeon, under sentence of an ignominious cruel death, should . the sentence he reversed, aud upon seeing himself restored to his liberty, and raised to a state of opulence, dignity, and honour, would not with joy and pleasure call to mind the hardships and dangers of his former condition, and bless the day of his deliverance ? Yet they must have ended with this perishable life : whereas our slavery in sin was only begun on earth, to be made more grievous, beyond all that can he conceived, in the eternal torments of hell. Neither is our happiness confined to a bare deliverance from these infinite evils. Christ rising from the grave, and completing by this victory the great work of our Redemption, has raised us from the death of sin, and skvery of hell, to the dignity of children of God, heirs of his glory, and co-heirs with himself. Is not this a just subject of unspeakable joy ? Hence the Apostle says : rejoice ye always in the Lord ; again I say, rejoice. Be not solicitous for any kind of thing : our Lord is at hand. (Phil. iv. 4.) But to rejoice now in the hope and ex- pectation of that glorious kingdom which Christ has purchased for us,

• S, Gt. Naz. Or. ia NataL Chnst. y. 383,

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we must love and earnestly desire it. Rejoice with Jerusalem, ancj all ypM that Jpve her: rejoice for her, all you who mourned for her, (Isa. Ixvj. 10.) There cannot indeed be much joy where the desires were faint, and where there was little love. Therefore the Prophet says : “ Let all who seek thee, be glad and rejoice in thee ; “ and let them who love thy salvation, say always, the Lord be mag-

nified.” (Ps. lxix. 5.) If we esteem it a blessing above all bles- sings, to have been redeemed from hell, and to be called to a king- dom of everlasting glory \ if this be an happiness in our eyes infinitely precious, beyond all that this world can afford; then exceeding!)' great n^st be the desire and joy which will flow from the consideration of this mystery, and the graces and glory which are procured us by it.

But we ought to rejoice far more for the interest and glory of Jesus Christ himself in his resurrection, than for all the highest ad- vantages which accrue to us from this mystery. He who is risen in so bright glory is our father, our God, our most loving brother and fideud. It is be who has redeemed us, at the price of the last drop $f hia blood which be has poured forth for us. Is it not then just that our souls should be penetrated and overwhelmed with joy, when We see him take possession of that high glory and supreme felicity Which are his due? This ought to have been his natural state, who Wfs the Spn of God, and innocence aud sanctity itself. It was only fpr. us that he chose for his portion the lowest degree of humiliations, and the sharpest torments. If we have any sentiments of love or seal for bis honour, how must we be transported with joy to see him aqw enter into his own rights? Again, how shall we testify our gra- titude fogr all his bitter sufferings by which he redeemed us, but by ouv demonstration* of joy, when we hehold him passing from the abyss of abjection and torments to the summit of honour, power, and feli- city ? Hence the Christian church, spread over the globe of the tarth, resounds with cries of spiritual joy, and hymns of praise ; and ad its children express their transports by repeated Alleluiahs, which they liave continually in their mouths. “ Let us love “ with our whole hearts, my dear brethren, the glory of his di- “ vine resurrection,” says St. Gregory the Great M and let

ui die for his love, if it be necessary, now that we see his triumph w accomplished.” An emineut servant of God expresses the strong emotions of devotion which he felt in his heart on this solemnity, in the following pathetic strains :b “ O great festival ! it is on this day i( that my amiable Redeemer begins to show himself as God, and to “ be treated as God. O festival of the glory of Jesus! O festival of M joy to his mother, and to all the saints! Mary, without a miracle,

would have died of grief and compassion on Good Friday ; and to- M day, without a miracle, would have died of joy. How comes it M that my heart does not swoon away through joy ? The interests of the ** Creator, being infinitely preferable to those of his creatures, I most “ justly rejoice more at his glory than I can do in the hope of my

* S. Greg. M. Horn. xxi. in Evang.

* Mons. Bernierw de Louvigni, Penaees,

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M own. O Jesus, I see you then at last in the state of glory which is “ by infinite titles your due. That state of contempt, ignominy, and u suffering, to which your love for me had reduced you, belonged not “ to you. It was indeed most advantageous and necessary for us, “ who were criminals : but it suits not you, who are innocence itself “ and the king of glory. O what transports of joy does my soul feel “ to see Jesus crowned with glory ! It is what no power of words “ can express.” The more bitterly a devout soul is grieved in medi- tating on his sufferings and death, and on the enormity and miseries of sin, the more is she transported with joy in the contemplation of his glory, due to him on account of his divine dignity and sanctity ; and also, by a new title, on account of his torments and death in re- deeming us. This triumph, and this crown, are a recompence of his charity in shedding his precious blood for us, and of his victory over sin and hell. We rejoice and applaud when we see some glorious conqueror rewarded with triumphs, and wearing the ensigns of ho- nours which are the trophies of his victories, and glorious badges of his heroic and virtuous exploits. We rejoice at the crowns of the martyrs and of all the saints. But incomparably more must we ex- ult in celebrating the honour with which the sacred humanity of Christ is crowned, and which he has so justly purchased by his divine virtues, and by the cruel death, and that sea of sorrows, by which he redeemed us. His glory was veiled by his humility, and concealed in the obscurity of his birth in the mauger ; of his hidden life ; of the indignities which he suffered ; of his cruel and ignominious death. But it is displayed in the mystery of his resurrection, which is the mani- festation of his greatness, the demonstration of his divinity, which here emerged, as it were, from the abyss of humiliations into which it was sunk. Even from the grave itself, which is usually the lowest state of human misery, and the most loathsome object of horror. We are amazed at the sight of the poverty in which he was born and lived, and the pain in which he died. But his resurrection makes amends for all, and certifies us of his divinity, according to the words of the Apostle: “ That he was declared to be the Son of God by his re- surrection 5 (Rom. i. 4 ;) in which mystery he manifested tne sove- reignty of his power. The father addressed to him, particularly in his resurrection : I begot thee to-day ; (Hebr. i. 5,) as if he had said, as S. Ambrose remarks : “ On this day hast thou proved thyself my " Son.” What glory does this mystery also reflect upon all the fore- going humiliations of Christ’s incarnation, showing them to have been such miracles of goodness, such prodigies of divine love and conde- scension, for which the heavenly spirits can never sufficiently admire and praise him ; for which all creatures shall eternally adore him. We must exult, rejoice, and praise him on this festival. But the de- monstrations of our joy must not be worldly or carnal. Such would dishonour this mystery, and have a direct opposition to all sentiments which holy love and devotion inspire. If we do not fast in the Pas- chal time in token of our joy, we must still practise necessary tempe- rance and abstemiousness : not forget that we are Christians, and bound to live in a constant practice of self-denial and restraint, in

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order to keep our appetites in due subjection, and to make our senses instruments of all virtue and sanctity. Though we now put on our best garments, as St. Gregory Nazianzen remarks, all vanity, ostenta- tion, and immodesty must be banished. Our joy must be altogether holy and spiritual ; not barely exterior, a mere ceremony or base hy- pocrisy of the heart, but sincere, and a joy of true devotion. Thus ought we to be transported at the glory of our blessed Redeemer, and our redemption and nappiness through him. His triumph must pe- netrate our hearts, and fill all the powers of our souls with holy joy, in which we must offer him the tribute of our affections, by pouring forth our hearts in the most fervent acts of adoration, praise, thanks- giving, love, and oblation or sacrifice.

Adoration, honour, and praise are due to our great conqueror, from all his creatures, but in a special manner from men redeemed by him, raised with him, his acquired new people, rescued from sin and the iaws of hell, enrolled amongst the sons of God, and made citizens of heaven. The whole universe, renewed by him in the restoration of man, clothed with gaiety, chants his victory, and each part, according to its capacity, sounds forth its praise. When the world, at the crea- tion, came forth out of nothing, at the command of God, and appeared in his sight arrayed with beauty and every thing in it perfect, all na- ture seemed to borrow a voice to proclaim the glory, power, magnifi- cence and goodness of its author. The angels, the Sane of God , praised him in jubilee. (Job xxxviii. 7.) The stars shone forth to nim with gladness, (Bar. iii. 34,) and rising, celebrated his praise. Every thing in the heavens, on earth, and in the deepest abysses, conspired to form one universal choir, in displaying and celebrating their Lord and Creator. The sun in its course, (Ps. xviii. 6, 7>) the stars in the firmament, the living creatures which people the seve- ral parts of the world, the trees and verdure which cover the surface of the earth, and the whole creation, continue in some degree their praise of him, by and in whom they exist. Seated on some eminence, and taking a survey of all things above, about, and below us, we may represent them as incessantly employed in setting forth, and each, according to their abilities, praising the sweetness of the love, the magnificence, bounty, omnipotence, and glory of God, from whom, and tn whom, they hold whatever they are or enjoy. God is more won- derful and adorable in the renovation of the world, by the redemption of man through Christ, than in its first creation. We may therefore represent to ourselves the heaven, the earth, and the whole creation, as conspiring in a joint chorus to magnify, in the highest strains of love and praise, the infinite power, mercy, wisdom and goodness of God in the resurrection and glorious triumph of his Son. The Father, by presenting his co-eternal Son again into the world, now in his glorified state, gives charge to all the blessed spirits to adore him. This great summons sounded through all the heavenly courts: and may the an- gels of God adore him . (Hebr. i. 6.) Much more ought man, ran- somed by him ; man, who has so great a share in his victory, and such special infinite obligations to him, pay the most fervent homages of adoration, thanksgiving, and praise. In the most profound adora-

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tion, and with the application of all the powers of our soul td tfid majesty of oUr divine Redeemer in his state of glory, We ought to repeat and to invite all creatures to repeat with us, with all possible devotion: ** The Lamb which is slain, is worth y to receive power ahd “ divinity;” (that is, the homages due to his Godhead) “atid wlS- “ dom and strength, and honour, and glory, and benediction. (ApOth H V. 12.) And every creature which is in heaveti and upon eartn, and n under the earth, and in the sea, I heard them all sayirig : To hitn “ who is seated oh the throne, and to the Lamb, be benediction, and “ honour, and glory, and power for ever and ever. And the fottf “ living creatures said, Amen. (Apoc. v. 13.) Jesus Christ yesterday “ and to-day, and the same for ever.” (Hebr. xiii. 8.) In these woroi are expressed his essential eternity, unchangeableness, and indepen- dence, the characters of his divinity, in the same manner as God gave a description of himself to Moses, in the name which is incOmthdhlcit- hie to all others : lam , toko am. It is not said, He was, ahd will be i to express that the duration that is past, ahd that to come, is present to him who always is essentially and without vicissitude or chahgg. In these words, therefore, we acknowlege and adore as God him who in his human nature died and rose again. We adore him hot only in his divinity, but also his humanity subsisting by, and united hypos- tatically to the divine person. We adore him in every circumstance of his glorious and triumphant resurrection ; ih the immortal life he has entered ; in the glory of which he is possessed ; in the happy influence of his grace and power in heaven, and on earth ; irt the cha- racters which he bears of God, Redeemer, King, Judge, Spouse, Co- heir, and Brother. Let us salute him in all these qualities, paying Mqi under each our best homages in the most profound sentiments of adora- tion, gratitude, love and fear.

Let us adore and praise him, seeing that by the great mystery of his resurrection man is redeemed and restored to the dignity of child of God; the ignominies of his death are repaired, his labour crowned* his divinity manifested, the wisdom of the whole mystery of his In- carnation unfolded, the glory of his cross established and proclaimed* his religion and doctrine invincibly confirmed, and built Upon an un- shaken foundation. In a word, each circumstance of this triumph, demands the tribute of our praise.

With what ardour did Deborah, and other servants of God in the old law, sing his praises, and return him thanks, for victories over their temporal enemies? In what transports of seal and gratitude did Moses celebrate the divine mercy* after the passage of the Israelites through the Red Sea, in which Pharaoh and his horsemen were swallowed up; a type of the devil vanquished by Christ, to whose glorious vic- tory and triumph in his resurrection, the song of Moses agrees, in a far more noble sense than to the temporal deliverance of the people of God from the tyranny of Pharaoh. The Jewish Passover was kept with the greatest solemnity, in commemoration of the deli- very of their ancestors from the exterminating angel; and their Pas- chal Latab was no mote than a type of Christ. With what thanks- giving and praise, then, are we obligedto glorify out Redeemer Sad

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God, on the gteat ffeast of his most glorious triumph? M This is the “ day which tne Lord hath made; let us be glad and rejoice therein.* Psalm cxvii.

The sacrifice of our love must accompany the homages of our praise. Infinitely amiable is our Divine Redeemer, both in the adorable im- mensity of his divinity, and in the sweetness of his sacred humanity £ in which, by the likeness of our nature, infinite God as he is, he is made our brother. All the particular motives of love which are found in each of the mysteries and actions of his mortal life, sufferings, and death, are centered in the mystery of his resurrection, the seal of the great work of our Redemption. He has not forgotten, in Its glorious effulgency, his andent condescension, mercy, and boundless love for ns; tier is he risen to forsake, or to depart from us. No: in his resurrection he presents nimself to us most amiable, because victorious and triumphant for us, and because he has put on his glorified state for us, and for our sake and advantage, and in this is still mindful of us, and bears to us the same infinite love out of which he died for us. HoW does he challenge our love in the display of his goodness, and all his charms in his triump h and victory over sin and death? We ad- mire a great general in the day of his worldly triumph, enriched with the spoils and ornaments of his conquests, loaded with the trophies of his achievements, though often utiiust, bloody, and mean, and gene- rally owing more to others than to his own valour. Here the victories ana trophies are infinitely holy, and altogether spiritual and divine ; and all their advantages are our own ; infinite as they are, Christ pur- chased them for us by his meekness, patience, sufferings, and death, through a sea of his own adorable blood. With What eyes shall we contemplate our God and Redeemer, the great conqueror of death, sin, and hell, encompassed with happy spoils, the fruit ef his conquest, souls redeemed by him ; adorned with the glorious badges of his vic- tories, the prints of his wounds, by which he obtained them, at so dear a rate to himself; appearing on this day in that glory with which his heavenly Father hatn crowned him? He is risen sovereignly beau- tiful, and sovereignly glorious, clothed with the robes of his immortal triumph, and of his royalty and supreme dominion over man and all creatures. u The Lord hath reigned: He hath arrayed himself with beauty.” (Ps. xcii. 1.) If the modesty, sweetness, and majesty of his countenance before his death, could charm and attract those who be- held him, Whom jealousy and malice did not blind; what charms must not sparkle and dart from his glorious countenance after his resurrec- tion, now no longer covered and disguised with the veils of mortality, but shining with the rays of his hedvenly resplendency? His humanity is now immortal, impassible, and clothed with the splendour which his divinity diffuses Upon it. “ Beautiful in his comeliness above the sons M of men.” (Ps. xliv. 3.) The sight of a single ray thereof, in his transfiguration, transported S. Peter with joy and admiration, in such a mdrther that he fbrgbt every thing else, even his own condi- tion, and Where he was; and desired to stay there for all eternity, to feed his eyes and his soul on so charming an object. What tnen must It be to behold that beauty in its meridian brightness? All

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earthly beauties disappear, and become deformity in the presence of one glorified body. Yet the lustre of all the glorified bodies in heaven, if compared to the sacred humanity of Christ, are no more than the glimmering of the stars to the dazzling light of the noon- day sun, by which tney are totally eclipsed and hidden. This is the charming sun and light of heaven. “ Its lamp is the lamb.” (Apoc. xxi. 23.) As the planets borrow all their light from the sun, so will the bodies of all the blessed in Heaven receive their lustre, by parti- cipation, from the adorable humanity of their Redeemer. O, when shall I behold the sovereign beauty of my Jesus? which is the object of the desires of the angels, the joy of the saints, and the delight of Heaven. “ When shall I come and appear before thy face?” (Ps. xliii.) “Behold thou art beautiful and comely, O my beloved.” (Cant, i. 15.)

How great, how sublime, and how stupendous soever this mystery of the glory of Jesus is, he is not by it removed from us. On the contrary, it is wrought for us, and in it he is all ours. Yes: the mira- cles, the glory, the advantages of Christ’s resurrection, are all for our sakes. We say truly, that Christ was born, and that he died for us. Nor is it less true, that he rose again from the dead for us. “ He delivered himself (to death) for our sins, and he rose for our “justification,” says the apostle. (Rom. iv.) He here gave himself again for us. “ For this Christ died, and rose again.” (Rom xiv.) How are we bound to love a God who both suffers and triumphs for us?

In his glorified state he still retains his ancient love for us, as ar- dent, as tender, as when it nailed him to the cross for our redemption. He now calls us not his friends, as formerly, but his brethren. “ Go “ tell my brethren,” says he, (Matt, xxviii.) “that I ascend to my Fa- “ ther and to your Father.” He bears to eternity the print of his sacred wounds in his glorified body, not only as tokens of his victories, but much more as eternal proofs of his love, and memorials of his suffer- ings for us; also to remind him of us always afresh, and. to assure us that he will never forget us in the kingdom of his glory. He says by them to every one of us: “Behold, I have written tnee in my hands.” (Isa. xlix.) and in characters which eternity itself will never efface. In these wounds we are always present to the very eyes of his humanity itself: they speak to him of us without intermission. If a mother should forget her little one, and abandon the child of her womb, which she has nourished in her own bosom, he can never forget us, whom he always bears engraved in his hands. These same wounds he perpetually shows to his father, to appease his justice, and render him propitious to us. By them he is our eternal and all-powerful advocate with him. (1 John ii. 1.) For Christ in his resurrection, and in Heaven, continues to perform for us the office of our only true mediator. Abraham, Moses, and other holy men, have been employed by God, as mediators of intercession, to address him in favour of his people. But Christ is the only mediator of our redemp- tion, our only true mediator, through whom alone we, and all who in- tercede for us, can have access. By his divine nature he is God, and by his humanity he is our brother, to plead for us, sure by the dignity

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of his divine person, and the merits of his cross, to obtain all he requests; and by the experience of our nature he has learned compas- sion for our weakness. Neither need he speak to plead our cause. He has but to present his hands pierced for us, to disarm his father’s an- ger, and procure for us every blessing. Shall not these precious wounds, shining with bright glory, such wonderful pledges of nis love, and such powerful tokens continually exciting him to the love of us, always move us to love him? Is it possible, that, though our hearts are harder than adamant, those wounds should not kindle in them a fire of his love, and stir upin us a deep sense of gratitude, as often as we call them to mind? We ought often to entertain our thoughts and affections, by pious meditations and aspirations on his love for us, his benefits, mysteries, holy actions, and sufferings, and repeat fre- quent acts of his divine love, by joy and complacency in his glory, excellencies, graces, and perfect virtues; by benevolence and zeal desiring to draw all men to his knowledge, and to the obedience of his holy law; and to propagate more and more in ourselves, and in the hearts of all men, the kingdom of his sweet love ; by the praises of his holy name; by the perfect oblation and sacrifice of our hearts; by earnest petitions for his divine love and grace, through his mercy, and all his sacred mysteries in the litany to his honour, &C., by fervent desires of being eternally united to him in his glory ; by thanking him for all his gracious mercies, and infinite love, &c. “ Thanks

4L to God who hath given us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Cor. xv. 57.)

All supernatural divine love or charity must spring from, and be founded in the other two theological virtues, faith, or the knowledge of his sacred mysteries and truths, manifested to us by his revelation ; and hope , or a firm confidence in his power, and of obtaining his graces and glory : of both which great and essential virtues his resur- rection is also the foundation and strongest motive. Our faith is built upon it. S. Paul tells us, that Christ was predestinated, and declared the Son of God, by the resurrection. (Rom. i. 4.) The gospel is sometimes called the preaching of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, to give us to understand that this is the fundamental and principal article of our frith in Christ. (Acts ii. 31 ; iv. 2, 33 ; xviL 18, &c.) It is assigned by him as the great proof and sign of his divinity. “ The wicked generation seeks a sign, and no sign shall be “ given to it but that of Jonas,” (Matt. xii. 41,) meaning his resur- rection on the third day, prefigured by that prophet. Again, being asked by the Jews for a proof of his actions, he gave only this, that when the material temple of his body should be dissolved by them, he would raise it again in three days. (John ii. 19*) He with great propriety calls his body this temple , upon account of the divinity re- siding in it, and because it was a standing tradition among the Jews, that the Sanctum Sanctorum represented the Messias. And the Jews in general understood sufficiently, that he appealed to such a resurrection for the confirmation of his divine mission ; for in their address to Pilate for a guard to watch the sepulchre, they mention his having foretold his resurrection as a thing notorious. Indeed,

m mwmmmmm. [Ti,va

amongst ill hi* miracles, none & so wondeHul, mi mere ifecoutetat* ubhr. The west evident. Mid the greatest of miracles, is the raising of the dead to life* This is the most indisputable mark of the finger ef the Most H%h, who alone has the keys of death and hell. It is recorded in the gospels, that three persons were raised from death by our divine Redeemer. These were most wonderful miracles; yet, by his power, and in his name, many saints have done the like. But to hint alone was it reserved, that, whefi dead, he should, by hh own power, raise himself to life, because this no other hut a God could do* No other could say with him 3 M I hive power to lay down “ my life, and to take it up again.” (John x. 18.) His enemies, at his deaths ranked him amongst the common dead. But he entered the kingdom of death is its Sovereign, not as enslaved to it; as it* conqueror, not as its subject ; as enjoying perfect liberty and perfect dominion ovet k; not as under its laws.* This he showed by raising himself to life by his own power and strength, without any one to assist him ; without any prophet or saint to pray for him, or call 0 a the name of God for him. The laws of death and nature Were sub- ject to him : by his free will he Underwent them, and his will alone; which is their sovereign and necessary tide, restored him to life, show- ing hhn their Lord even whilst he seemed defamed under their em- pire* Henke he said by the ptophet : u I am become as a man with* “out Succour; free among the dead.” {Pa. Ikxxvii. 6.) A* thfe mystery wks the greatest of ChrisPs miracles; atari the foundation 6f our faith, so was God pleased to render it the most incontestable, to p*t it out ef the reach of the Cavils of infiddfay itself. The pre- caution* of his enemies, their application to Pihink;> the guards, the seat ptat on the doer of the Monument, starved only to retarder it more evident* The incredulous priests and ©Mew afterward pretended the body was stolen a Way ie the eight. But how durst the disciples, at that vkry time so cowardly and timorous, approach thk guards, n*> knave the stunk, break the pabhc seal, Utad carry Wway the body t The guards, it is said, were asleep. 1st. H to, they could n evdta be Witnesses that the body war stolen, fadty. HoW can it bte sur^ tamed that they wmridbe talebp^wfehdut one sentinel to keep watch? A capital crime. Without intercy, id the tanefient Military dUciplitts. HbW could the kpostltas forge and carry on sddi an imposture P Th&k eriemiks and accbsers were the chief priests And elder* of the Jew*; men in high reveretaefe and authbrify with the people, supported by the laws of the synagogue and state, vfested with dl power, and far- nitahed With all the means of making the strictest search and inquiries; procuring informations, and gaining or extorting a confession. And what was the condition of the accused ? Men of low birth and mead fortune* without learning, credit, or support ; add who, upon the very first trial, had, out of pusillanimity and fear, desekted their master. Whit motive could induce the apostles to engage in so Wicked and dangerous a plot ? The imposture, if the story had been such, mu4t have been known to them $ nay, contrived by themi But why should

» See Molinier, BetmUkme*

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they invent oir propagate it to their own certain ruih, if detected, (which could not fail to happen,) and without hopes of advantage, if it could have succeeded ? Out of so great a number as must hare been privy to such a forgery, and a much greater who could not but have reason to suspect it, who yet abetted it as a certain and evident fact, is it possible that no one, either from honesty of religion, or from the fear of punishment, or hope of reward, would have divulged the secret, and given such intelligence to their enemies as might have enabled them to put the question of the resurrection out of all dis- pute ? Especially if we consider that by concealing the imposture they could hope for nothing but certain dangers, persecute .ns, and poverty ; and that by disclosing it to the Pharisees, #orldly riches and honours would have been their certain recompense. Again, did the poor Disciples act, as authors of such a forgery would Certainly have done ? Artless in their words and actions, they took no pre- cautions : as persons conscious of no fraud or guiles they remained itx Jerusalem a week or more, after the repdrt of their paving stolen their master** body was spread over the city ; and in about a thopth after returned thither again. Soon after this they asseried boldly, to the face of their powerful eneihies and accusers, that a God had “ raised from the dead that same Jesus whoni they had crtidfied;" The learned doctors and priests of the Jews; the jealous guardians of theft Church and State; heard this, without laying to their charge the theft of their master’s body, which they could not fail to do u the^ had believed it. And not being able to gainsay the testimony they gave to the resurrection, vouched b^ a miracle, (Acts iv. 15, 22,) they let them go, after threatening them; if they preached Christ any more. This accdnnt indeed is given by the Apostles and Disciples, but contradicted none ; confirmed by miracles* acknowledged both by JOws and Pagans/ and by the progress which Christianity madO at that time in Jerusaletn $ which ib alotle a Sufficient demonstration, that no proof of any theft of the bddy; dr bf any chbat, Wks or coulfl be made; All possibility of an iinddsture is farther banished, by the siinpUcity, sincerity, and sanctity ox the Apostles ind Disciples; which appear in their fairings and m their whole conduct ; also by the mi- racaldut change wrought in then! by the Holy Ghost; by which they; who were just before so timorous; “ gave testimony to the resurrection “of Jesus Christ With great courage.* (Acts iv. 2. 18.) And this testimony they confirmed during their whole Hves, amidst all threats* dangers, and hardships, and sealed it at their death with their blood; Could one, much more, could so many witnesses, have all maintained this point with so much constancy, and with the loss of theft Hves, had it been a known cheat ?

It is yet more evident, that the Apostles could never have been themselves imposed upon by any illusion. The appearances of the angels could not be the work of imagination. The women, who were favoured with them, were surprised at them ; so far were they from expecting or thinking of any such thing, which might dispose

• See Grotitt de Verit. Ret Chr.

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them to raise phantoms in their imagination s they both heard and saw them ; and it is scarcely to be conceived that two senses could have been imposed upon by an illusion of the fancy : the number, manner, variety, and nature of the circumstances of these visions, and the different times and persons, show them to have been real, not mere apparitions. Nor do the women discover any symptom of a prepos- sessed or overheated fancy, or of superstition, enthusiasm, or credu- lity ; by which their minds might be disposed to be worked upon* Every thing contrary is manifest from all the circumstances of each vision. The appearances of Christ himself still more evidently exclude all possibility of deception. The Apostles, from seeing him, hearing him, handling him, conversing with him, had the same certain proofs, by the evidence of all their senses, that he was truly risen, as they had before his passion, that he was then living amongst them. This evidence was invincibly strengthened by the testimony of all others tallying in such variety of circumstances, from the ancient types and prophecies, and from the many predictions of Christ, which they then perfectly understood, and saw accomplished in this mystery; also from the fulfilling of all things in it which were written of Christ in the old law and prophets. From such a concurrence of the strongest evidences, their conviction was such as no greater could be given. Their miracles, prophecies, sanctity, labours, persecutions, and martyrdoms, hold out their testimony to us in the strongest light of evidence, and show us how inconsistent incredulity is every where with itself.

The resurrection of Christ, by confirming our faith, is also the ground of our hope, both because by this mystery the great work of our redemption was perfected, and because it is the pledge of our own future resurrection, and state of immortal glory. Without Christ’s resurrection, the great scheme of our redemption, by the in- carnation, sufferings, and death of Christ, would have been incomplete. By it the Messiah accomplished all that the scriptures had foretold of his glory and power, and added his- triumph over death to that over sin, which he had obtained by his own death. Moreover, the resurrection of Christ is the cause, the model, and the pledge of our own to come : it is the cause, by having merited this grace for us. Whence St. Paul reasons against certain Heretics, that “ If Christ u did not rise again, neither shall we rise again.” (1 Cor. xv.) And he pronounces absolutely : “ If Christ did not rise again, vain then is “ our preaching; and your faith is also vain.” (1 Cor. xv. 14.) But Christ is risen for us, that we may also rise. It is even upon the model of his resurrection that we ourselves shall be raised up- As he is risen in a glorified, immortal, spiritual body, so shall we rise in the like state. “ He will reform the body of our lowliness made like “to the body of his brightness.” (Phil, iii.) Of this we have in his resurrection the most assured, the strongest, and most sensible pledge. No one can doubt but God is able to raise our bodies from the dust, since he has already carried this power into execution, by raising Christ from the grave in the most wonderful manner. Neither can we doubt but he will execute this promise also in our favour, and

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raise us in our turn. St. Paul shows from this mystery, that “ In “ Christ we shall all be made alive ; every one in his own order. “ Christ is the first fruits ; then they that are of Christ.” ( l Cor. xv. 23.) He is called the first fruits of those who die, (l Cor. xv. 20,) the first-born from the dead. (Col. i. 18.) The first implies that we must follow: a consequence so necessary and so evident, that St. Paul says : “ If Christ is risen, how can some say, there is no “resurrection ?” (1 Cor. xv. 12.) And again : “ If there is no resur- “rection of the dead, neither is Christ risen.” (1 Cor. xv. 16.) But as we have the strongest assurance that he is risen, “ we know that “ He who hath raised Jesus will one day also raise us up with him.” (2 Cor. iv. 24.) It is natural that members should follow their Dead, should be united to him, and should be where he is. “ Where “ the body shall be, there shall the eagles be gathered,” (Mat. xxiv. 28,) says our divine Redeemer. And again : “ He who ministers “ to me, let him follow me ; and where I am, there also shall my “ minister be.” (John xii. 26.) “ Members,” says St. Gregory the Great, M follow the glory of their Head.” It was impossible for Christ to be detained captive by death and hell. (Acts ii. 24.) He conquered them for us. His victory is ours over them. We now insult them through him, saying with the Prophet, and with the Apostle : “ Where is now thy victory, O death? where is now thy “sting?” (1 Cor. xv. 55.) This is the most assured motive and ground of our hope and comfort. Job, under the most bitter anguish and sharpest pains, and under the weight of every extreme affliction, built his confidence on this mystery, and found in it the most solid comfort and joy ; assuring himself, that because 'his Redeemer lived, he should also live again. “ I believe that my Redeemer liveth, and “ in my flesh I shall behold God my Saviour.” (Job xix. 25.)

Notwithstanding Christ’s adorable death and resurrection to raise us from the death of sin to the state of grace and glory, our hope is no better than a vain and groundless presumption, unless by dying to sin we rise with Christ, put on his spirit, and belong to him. Christ, by his resurrection, took possession of his dominion over all creatures. He assures us : “ All power is given me in heaven and on earth.” (Mat. xxviii. 19*) As man, from the first union of his soul to his body, and of his humanity to the divine Person, he received the do- minion over all creatures ; whence in the scriptures, and in our creeds, he is peculiarly styled Our Lord. It was at his resurrection that he entered upon the full actual exercise of this universal dominion. Man redeemed by him is not only his peculiar care, but by the right of purchase, and other titles, more strictly his, and derives from him a superabundant influx and participation of all grace, and title to eternal glory. And by this mystery our divine Mediator is consti- tuted the father of a numerous posterity amongst men, to which he communicates his new life and spirit. On the festival of his resurrec- tion we must acknowledge with love the just rights of our Saviour over us, be transported with joy that we belong to him, andplace in our dependence on him all our joy and all our happiness. We must humbly subject ourselves to his power and sweet yoke ; we must coiw

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jlite hint tq ftitrf be over us the empire of his grace and mercy, sub- due eur rebellious passions, and take possession of oil? whole hearts, making him a total sacrifice of oqrselves without reserve. We niiist intreat him, with all the earnestness and ardour we arb able, never to suffertift to leave the qarrow path which he has traced out for us, and tp make us, by the strength of his arm, duly to advance and to perse- vere in it to qur death. It is Our duty to eddeavour in some measure to forget the things of this world, and to employ our thoughts and affectiops on the glory which he enjoys, and that which he commands i|S to hope for, aqd the means which may conduct us thither. Where- fore, in the qntne oblation and sacrifice ef ourselves, let or salute Him King of oiir Souls, our Redeemer end God, begging of him to estab- lish in us tho perfect reign of his love and grace, and saying to him : Make us Entirely thinp ; we are thy conquest, and the work of thy hand. We are thy people, and the sheep of thy fold. We will eter- nally sing thy mercies, and the glory of thr victory. We will annouaoe thy wonders, and publish thy praises to all ages.

It is in vpm that we pretend to belong to God, to make him ah ehlation of our lives, or of all that we are, or to pay him an accept- able tribute of praise, thanksgiving, and love, unless we spiritually me with .Christ, by a sincere and perfect conversion of our hearts from sin and the world. This was the great end which he had in view in aH these adorable mysteries, the fruit which they ought to produce in our sduls, and the essential condition upon which depend all the incompa- rable advantages we can hope to derive from them both for time and eternity. The resurrection of Christ is the model upon which our conversion must be formed, as the apostle often inculcates, who points out the qualities in which the resemblance ought to consist. 'Christ's resurrection is his new birth unto a glorified life, in which the infir- mities of his mortal, passible state, are absorbed in the state of impassi- bility, immortality, and glory, and in the superabundant participation of the Divinity. We must, in like manner, be dead and crucified to the old man, to rise from the grave with Christ, and walk in the new- ness of life. (Rom. vi. 3.) “ If we are dead with Christ, we believe

“ that we shall live also together with Christ" (Rom. vi. 8.) Alas! How few amongst the crowds of penitents, which fill our churches, truly rise with Christ! The conditions of our spiritual resurrection, if it be real, are 1st, That it be sincere and true, as Christ rose not in a shadowy apparition, but really and indeed. “ The Lord is risen “ indeed." (Luke xxiv. 34.) “He is risen: He is not here: " said the angel. (Matt, xxviii. 6.) “ Come; see the place where the Lord was “ laid," (ib.) The sincere convert is no more where he was: he has entirely left, and bid an eternal farewell to his passions, vices, vani- ties, and the eager love and pursuit of honours and pleasures; to the grave of his self-love, obstinate attachment to his own will, continual study to gratify his appetites and please himself, cowardice in the practice of penance and mortification, lukewarmness and sloth in all virtue. He has renounced all dangerous occasions of sin, broken off his carnal engagements, quitted all dangerous company, sensual plea- sures, vain amusements, trifling or idle occupations, and whatever an*

Ch. HI.] Bsro**M*uts< Sfl£

t%wimm3 or tends mtrely to indulge tmimaiily m foftapss, PF 4 tun a soul in the spirit or paths of the world, §®4 0*IKWe$ fier (9 ftp danger of a relapse, or weakens ip her the spirit and grace of her resurrection. His life is an entire sequestration apd divorce from pill this, or from the spirit and maoners c f the world, apd the Y*TY P9U-* treat of its maxims of pleasure, luxury, vanity, pride, and SfhMinps* Hence the Apostle speaks of nothing so earnestly in repentance as this death, as its foundation and esssence | for it consists npt ip an exte- war and superficial reformation. It ipust totally destroy yu, treating it as Christ treated its appearance in his holy flesh » h® spaced ft #pt, hut by suffering in every part, eut it off by death, that he ptigW V#e it in a glorified state. Dying on the cress, he with extended arp? invitee us to pome and din with him. In his resurrection he stretches out his urms, and cries out to us* Come; live with me $ J am npw tins, glorious and iuMnortal. Be you immortal in the fifp of my gmce; and I will make you also immortal in my glory- ?ndlyr The conversion of a aiaoer must be a constant and permanent stat#. “ Chri#f ¥ ms mg from the deed, dieth now no more; death shall no more hpve o demoiiop over hm” (Rom. vL 9; see Ants *iu. 34.) “Iam living, <* and I mas deadt and behold I am living for ever and over*” (ApOfi* ** L iff.) bo ought the true penitent to be spiritually immortal in the slate of grace. « We who are flea d to sip, how shall we live any “ longer therein.” (Rom. vi. 2.) Firm resolutions, the flight pf dangers, the necessary precautions that are taken, and the other qualities qf a true repentance, demonstrate a change of heart, by which tha tipper b become a new creature, and such a conversion as is solid and hat- ing. Imonstancy, and frequent relapses, grp signs of pasting fits of fervour, or veileUise, and imperfect desires, whiph ape often inktgken far conversions, but are no better thap shadows, phantoms, and %!* mm, which soon disappear. They are compared to apparition? like that of bamuel to Raul, or like those who rose at the same time with Christ, and appeared to many in Jerusalem, (Rom. vp IQ, Jl; X Cor. xv. 47 ; 1 Pet. iv. 6; (Rom. xiv. 7)> A, 9, 15 0 but poop returned agsiu amongst the dead. Such pretended penitents seem, by biffing some secret idol in their hearts, never to have truly risen from tin. At least by a speedy relapse, they are fallen into a worse state than their former. The primitive dbmpUne did not admit tipper? ordi- narily to a second reconciliation after a relapse: “ lest they should " seem to have made a mockery of th? Cord’s Cufnppjmnn, and test H indulgence should make penitents less watchful” Srdly. A Cbris- tian who is truly risen, being become a new creature, has mit op pi heavenly affections, must be all charity, zeal, goodness, humility, meekness, and devotion; being dead to all that he was before, to afi inordinate desires of the flesh and the world, henceforward he fives only to God in all the inclinations of his heart: his thoughts and affec- tions are altogether spiritual and heavenly. (2 Cor. v. 170 Pte actions must be those of such a new Life. (Col. iii. 1, 2.) The Apostle tells us, a Christian soul is made a holy temple to the Lord. (I Cor. iii. 17 ; vi. 19.) AU sins and passions must therefore be destroyed as idols, and nothing but chanty and divine homage* praise, and obedience

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[T*. VII.

found in it, as St. Austin beautifully observes. 4thly. Fervour in good works is both the fruit, and the strongest proof of the life of charity in a soul sincerely converted to God. “ Christ showed himself living “ to the apostles in many proofs during forty days.” (Acts L 3.) So the true penitent gives manifest evidences of the truth of his conver- sion by the uniformity of his conduct, and by his constant fervour in good works. “ As we know a body when living by its moving, so “ we know the life of faith and grace by good works. If therefore “ you see a man zealous in the practice of all good works, and cheer- “ fill in the fervent discharge of all duties, make no doubt but faith “ is living in one who gives such proofs of it ; ”a says St. Bernard. Our great business on this festival, is to learn and practice all the conditions of a perfect conversion of our hearts to God. (Rom. vi. 6.) “ If we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we “ shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection.” Have we a mind to know if we have any share in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, we must examine whether this spirit of the new life of his grace is the spring that moves us in all our desires and actions: whether we are disengaged from sin and the world, are fervent in all good works to execute the will of our heavenly Father; whether we continually show forth the fruits of an effectual change of heart, in which consist the marks of a spiritual conversion ; in a word, whether our interior and our whole conduct are conformable to Christ in his glorified life, retired from the world, and altogether heavenly.

We adore you, O Jesus, Son of the eternal Father, in the glory of your triumphant resurrection. We humbly return you thanks for raising us by it from sin and hell ; and we earnestly intreat you, that, as our adorable head, you would communicate to us your new life, and strengthen us daily in it by the influx of your holy grace, that we continually advance in all virtue, particularly in your holy love. May our life henceforward be an uninterrupted sacrifice of obedience, love, and praise. In heaven, “ Our wnole business will be to love “ and praise : to praise in loving, and to love in singing bis praises : ”b “ Our praise will be without end, because our love will be without << end.”c May this life be a happy preparation and commencement of this exercise ; and may every moment in it be referred to God by a constant and ardent desire of doing his will, and by a perpetual union with him in our hearts. “ I will exalt thee, O my God, my « King, and will bless thee.” (Ps. cxliv. 1.) My love shall raise a throne to thee in my heart ; “ O God of my heart, and my portion “ for ever.” (Ps. Ixxi. 26.) “ Let him who is renewed and risen spi-

“ ritually witn Christ, love every thing new,” says St. Austin.*1 Come, O holy charity ! O love of my God ! Come consecrate my heart, and all my powers and senses, a temple to his honour. Let nothing henceforward resound in it, but canticles of praise to the only living God : let nothing be found in it but holocausts of obedience to his will, and what breathes the spirit of my resurrection and new life.

» S. Bern. Serin, ii. in Oct. Pasch. b S. Ang. in Ps. cxlvii

c S. Aug. in (Ps. cxli, 4) Aug. Ifytix . In Ps. xyxjx. n. 4. T. 4 p. 329.

BESUB&ECTlON.

Ch. IV.]

“ Sing to the Lord a new canticle.” (Ps. xcf. 1.) A canticle of hea- venly joy and love. Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise to God ! Praise to God ! When he crowns us, when he comforts us, when he tries and chastises us, praise to him with thanksgiving and love! This is the canticle of the new man. Alleluia ! Amen. This we will ever repeat from the bottom of our hearts, in the dedication of his holy temple. We read in the Apocalypse, that Alleluia is the canticle of the blessed in heaven; (Apoc. xix. 6;) it is consequently ours. For our life now ought to be the beginning of our life in heaven here- after ; “ that we may be some beginning of his creation,” (Joel i. 18,) or renovation of all things in Christ. We now sing with our whole hearts, the mysterious Alleluia, which will be resounded in heaven through all ages. “ Every one sings that which he loves. The “ blessed sing the praises of God, because they love him,” says St. Augustin.* The joy of the blessed is full, because from his posses- sion and enjoyment. Our joy and love is that of desire and spiri- tual hunger after him. “ Now the love of desire sings ; then the “ love of enjoyment will sing,” says the same father ; who adds, that the more earnestly and more widely our hearts are dilated now by desires and sighs, the greater will then be our joy and love in the enjoyment of him.

CHAP. IV.

On the Paschal Time.

Qua si-mod o Sunday, is the octave of Easter-day, and so called from the first words of the Introit at mass. But it is better known by the name of Dominica in A Ibis, that is, Sunday in Whites ; because the new baptized wore during seven days white garments, in token of the spotless iunocence of their state ; which garments they put off on this Sunday. After a person had been baptized, the pnest gave him some blessed milk and honey to eat, as an emblem of his spiritual infancy, and of his entrance into the true land of Promise, that is, the church. To this emblem the prince of the apostles alludes, when he metaphorically exhorts all converts to enter upon a new life in a spirit of simplicity. (1 Pet. ii. 2.) As new born babes desire the rational milk without guile, the new baptised were assisted, especially for the first days, by those who had presented them to baptism, that is, their Godfathers and Godmothers ; also by the priests, who for a long time after overlooked them, that they might improve in the knowledge and practice of Christian virtue. Every Christian ought on this day to renew his soul, stir himself up to fervour, in the spirit of his new life, and grow in his spiritual infancy of Christ.

The public office of the church, during the Paschal-time, is shorter than ordinary, in condescension of her spiritual infants, the new bap- tized Catechumens. In it are omitted the usual versifies and hymns, instead of which Alleluia is often repeated, to represent the happy

a S, Au$, Enar. in Ps. cxlvii. n. 3. T. 4. p. 1653.

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state pf the blessed in Heaven, whose eternal se ngts an uninterrupted Alleluia or hymn of adoration, praise, and joy . “ Praise, O Jews*? “ Jem, the Lord*” “ Behold thy whole employment ip heaven," says St. Atistin.* “ There our whole life will be nothing else but a continual praise of God* This praise will be without end, because o our love will be without end.,,b

The Paschal time is sometimes called by the ancients Quinqvog*- irne and Pentecost ; from these words which, the first in Latin, the second in Greek, signify fifty* because it consists of that number of days, and is closed with the feast of Pentecost or Whitsuntide* It is a continuation of the joy and solemnity of Easter, in honour of the resurrection of Christ, the greatest and most glorious of all the mys- teries of the Christian religion, and to represent to ns the eternal joy of the kingdom of Heaven, which will succeed and crown our pe- nitential fasts and trials. To distinguish this time of holy juhilee from the other seasons of the year, it was forbidden by the ancient canons of the church to fast during this term* This law is repeated and con- firmed by the first general Council of Nice, and is mentioned by se- veral canons, and all the principal ecclesiastical writers of the fourth century. Even the monks in the deserts made on it some abatement of their ordinary austerities, and usually anticipated their only meal, taking it at noon, instead of the evening, as St. Jerom assures us. Not that the arms of penance and mortification are at any time to be laid aside, but some mitigation is recommended, which yet must not take off the constant restraint which the Christian lays upon his appe- tites and senses. ' Also extraordinary occasions of penance did not fall under the rule of this mitigation ; and those who were under a cano- nical course of penance, continued their fests and other austerities during the Paschal time. Though in conformity te the spirit of the church, some indulgence in point of festing ought to be allowed at this festival time, yet private fests on extraordinary occasions are not condemned in it, provided there be no affectation herein. The reason of this rule of discipline is taken from those words of Christ, where he says his disciples did not practise extraordinary fests so long as he, their divine Bridegroom, remained with them, for the church now commemorates that time in which Christ fevoured his apostles with his visible presence, till his ascension ; an emblem of his presence to his elect in glory to eternity in Heaven.

A second privilege of the Paschal-time, established by the church in the primitive ages, is the law and custom of standing, not kneeling at prayer during this term, and on the Sundays throughout the whole year, which are all consecrated to honour the resurrection of Christ. The first general council mentions this rule ; and many other ooundls and fathers of the first ages. It is observed in the public offices of the church ; and it is commendable to have a just regard to it, in some degree, in private devotions in our closets. In those we per- form in the presence of others, we ought not to shock or scandalise them by any affected singularities ; and it is advisable to conform to

• S. Aug. in Te. cxlriii.

i 9* Aug. in Pi. cxli.

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custom. Tfce frequent repetition of Alleluia * ip $J1 payors, this season, is a third token of spiritual joy and praise, to which this fes- tival is peculiarly consecrated. “ O happy Alleluia I which we shall “ one day sing in Heaven,” cries out St. Austin,5 ifhere the “ angels are the temples of God, where all those who shall publish his ‘‘praises shall be linked together in the bands of love, and in perfect “ peace, and those who praise God shall possess perfect security and “ joy. O happy Alleluia ! Let us also sing here below Alleluia , “ though we now live in pain and trouble, that we may sing it there “ in perfect security.” The same father tells us in another sermon :c “ To praise God ought to be our gre^t occupation in this life, “ because it will be our eternal joy in the life to come. For no one “ will be capable of that life, who does not now form and prepare “ himself. We must therefore praise God at present : but we must “ not forget to accompany our praises of God, and the joy which the “hope of future bliss inspires, with earnest prayers and sighs, to be “ preserved from the dangers and evils which threaten us, and “ strengthened against the assaults of our enemies. We are trans- “ ported with joy in praising God, and contemplating his glory : but “ we sigh because we are not yet possessed of the bliss he has pre- pared for us. And the vehemence of our desire of possessing that “joy, ought to make us sigh without interruption so long as it is de- “ f erred. These two states are represented by Lent and Easter. “ The former, in which we commemorate the sufferings of Christ, ** signifies this time of trials, conflicts, and labours ; Easter represents “ that sovereign felicity we shall enjoy after this life, ’ 8c c. The con- templation of Christ’s glorious resurrection, and of the eternal joys of Heaven, ought particularly to occupy our souls at this season, and excite both our praises of God, and our sighs after his eternal enjoy- ment. At the same time we must study daily to aspire more and more to an imitation of the glorified life of our Redeemer, by increas- ing our watchfulness to walk in the newness of a spiritual and holy Kfe. Jesus, after he was risen from the grave, showed himself no more in public to the world, to teach us, that being now risen from

* Alleluia, or, Hallelu-Jah, signifies in Hebrew, “ Praise ye the Lord." It occurs m the psalms of praise, and was only used on the highest solemnities of spiritual joy, which represents the state of the blessed, in Heaven. St. John heard it often repeated by the angels in their state pf glory, with profound adora- tions, and prostrations before the throne of God. (Apoc. xix. 1.) The church uses it frequently in her office in the Easter time, to represent tiw joy of Heaven, and refrain's from it in seasons of tears and penance, lah here expresses the in- communicable name of God, He is* which among the late Jews .was only allowed to be pronounced by the High-priest, and that in the holy of holies, or innermost sanctuary in the temple, before the mercy-seat, or oracle, when he entered it once a year, on the feast of expiation. From these psalms it appears, that before the captivity, this name was sometimes pronounced in solemn prayer by the Priests and Levites, at least in the temple ; or as Philo says, it was only allowed to those of the most respectable character and morals to pronounce that sacred name. See Sacy in (Exod. vi. 3). p. 68, 69. _ Corn, a Lap. Calmet, Bonfrerius ib, Bell arm. Exerc . Gramm . in Ps. xxxiv. (Lat. Vulgate, xxxiij

* S. Aug. Serm. 256. ed. Ben, c Id. in Ps. cxlviii,

268

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[T*. VIII.

•in to the spiritual life and grace, as we tender the grace of such a happiness, so we must have no more commerce with the vanities, dangerous company, and pleasures of the world, but lead lives alto- gether heavenly.

Cf )t i&tgDtf) Evtatitt.

ON THE FEAST OF OUR LORD'S ASCENSION.

CHAP. I.

The History of this Mystery , with its Explication .

The apostles and other disciples, having been favoured with many appearances of Christ, and instructed by him in the things which related to his kingdom, or the establishment of his church, during about twenty-eight days they had contmued in Galilee ; by his appoint- ment they returned to Jerusalem for the approaching feast of Pente- cost. Ten days before that festival, whilst they were all at table together in Jerusalem, Christ manifested himself to them in his last appearance. (Mark xvi. 14.) He gave them his last charge to preach baptism and penance, and to confirm their doctrine by miracles, with the power of which he invested them, (ib. & (Luke xxiv. 44), 48,) which were the credentials of their mission from God to the world, and the proofs of the truth of the testimony which they bore to the resurrection of Christ, and other divine mysteries, of which they were appointed witnesses to all mankind. (Acts i. 8.) Though Christ had instructed his disciples in his mysteries, and opened their minds to understand the ancient prophecies concerning him ; and though he had so often rebuked the Jews in general, and his disciples in parti- cular, for their conceit of a temporal kingdom ; yet they could not still imagine that the kingdom of his church, of which the prophets had spoken so many and so great things, was to be merely spiritual, so strong were their preventions, and their expectations of a temporal empire, and of a temporal deliverance from the ruinous condition ana slavery to which their nation was then reduced ; so deep root do prejudices take in the hearts even of good men, when they arise from favourite passions, especially that of an esteem and desire of worldly honours, preferments, and riches, and when they are strengthened by the concurring authority and false maxims of the rest of mankind, as was here the case among the Jews. Hence we cannot wonder that Unbelievers stumbled at the poverty and meaness of Christ’s outward condition when he was here on earth, seeing it was so hard for the disciples themselves to be convinced, that his kingdom, was not, in

A8CSKSIOIT.

269

Ch. I.]

part at least, of this world. Seeing their divine Master risen won- derfully from the dead, and upon the point to establish his king- dom on earth, they put the question to him when he was going to be taken from them : “ Lord, wilt thou at this time restore the kingdom “ to Israel ?” that is, Wilt thou now free the Jewish nation from the foreign tyranny under which it groans, and raise this state to that pitch of power and splendour which all the people firmly expect from the Messiah. By their question they doubt not but it was to take place, and only inquire about the time. They were not yet capable of conceiving and relishing the true riches of evangelical poverty, and contempt of the world, and the mystery of the cross, in this respect: this they were vet to learn by the descent of the Holy Ghost upon them. Jesus therefore answers them by checking their curiosity, yet so as to give them to understand what was to be the establish- ment of his kingdom of which he had spoke to them : “ It is not for “ you,” says he, “ to know the times or the seasons which the Father “ hath put in his own power : but ye shall receive the power of the u Holy Ghost coming down upon you ; and ye shall be witnesses un- “ to me, both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and “ unto the uttermost parts of the earth.” From which words we learn that God has times and seasons for executing his purposes, to know which, it is neither proper for us, because uot our business, nor pro- fitable to us, because no part of our interest, nor possible, because out of our reach, and no where revealed by God to us. This his conduct suits our present state, in which we walk by faith and hope, and it affords us the greatest occasions of exercising the most heroic virtues by which we are to glorify God in our earthly pilgrimage, and qualify ourselves for the state of glory for which we are here to dispose ourselves. We are therefore bound to adore with awful silence, not to pry into God’s hidden and unrevealed secrets. How- ever it be not for us to know God’s times and seasons, it is our duty to expect them, and be prepared for them. Thus we know not when our Lord will come to us by death and judgment, whether in the “ evening, or at midnight, or at cock-crowing, or in the morning.” But it is our duty to believe, and live always in expectation of nis coming ; to be always waiting and preparing ourselves for it ; to be ever ready to receive his summons. It is not for us to know the times and seasons which God hath reserved to himself. To inquire into which would be a grievous presumption, and would withdraw our attention from our own most important concerns ; and from consider- ing how to make a right use of the times and seasons which God hath put in our own power : namely, the time to come, to prepare our- selves seriously for it ; the time past, to bewail our misemployment of it, with humility and compunction, gratulatiou and thanksgiving ; and to improve the present time, and all its circumstances, by the exercise of all virtues, and to our continual increase in all holiness. Christ, by curbing the curiosity of his disciples in inquiring into the diviue secrets which it no way concerned them to pry into, teaches us to check our natural itching desire of searching into or knowing what will be hereafter, and when it will happen ; and presses

• AdGBltBTON.

[TmTIIL

ns to llte in An entire dependence on, and confidence in God, offer- ing ourselves to do his will, and desiring that it may be ever accom- plished in us in the most perfect manner to his divine honour, and ottr own sanctification. Our Divine Redeemer, nevertheless, answers indirectly the inquiry of his disciples, telling them they should be enabled by the descent of the Holy Ghost upon them, to bear evidence to his doctrine and mysteries, and be themselves the founders of his spiritual kingdom, by planting his church, beginning at Jerusalem* then extending it to Samaria, and thence to all the nations of the Gehtiles throughout the whole world.

Jesus having in these words ‘repeated his former commission, and given his last charge to his Apostles, in the place where they were assembled together in Jerusalem, led them forth on the road to Bethania, to a high part of Mount Olivet, which, from St. Luke's narrative, seems to have been situated within the territory of that Village, about a Sabbath-day's journey from Jerusalem.* It was a tradition amongst the Christians in the primitive ages, mentioned by Eusebius, b that Christ before he ascended gave his disciples the holy mysteries in a cave in the mountain. He ascended from its summit, whilst the disciples beheld him. It was necessary that they should be eye-witnesses, in order to attest the certainty of this mys- tery ; whereas to bear testimony to his resurrection it was enough for them to have certain demonstrations that he was living after hi had been put to death. Raising himself from the earth, he lifted up his hands and gave them his blessing, it being the custom among 'the Jews to give a blessing by laying hands upon a person,0 or by hold- ing out the hands over them or toward them, if they were many together.11 As in his resurrection he raised himself by his own power, so ift his ascension he was lifted up to heaven by his owh strength and power : He needed no chariot of fife for his conveyance* like Elias ; (4 Kings in 11, 12,) being the author of life and motion | And though angels attended him* they did not assist him. The Apostles followed him with their eyes as he rofee* till A bright tloud took him out of their sight; This Cloud wai expressive of jpory, and under H is to be understood, according to a famiHAr phrase of the

* Bethania was about fifteen furlongs from Jerusalem. (Luke xliv. 50 ; John xi. IS.) It seems to have stood upon the remotest .part of that mountain? toward tfye bottom on the descent ; the mountain itself, or its summit, was a Sabbath-day’s journey from the city, which seems to have admitted sbme lati- tude in different places, but to have generally been about eight furfongs, or die of our measured miles. Josephus (Ve Beilo Judge . 1. 5. c. 8.) counts only six furlongs from Mount Olivet to the city ; bat must speak of its first ascent, or its foot toward the city. See Reland de Locis Palestine p. (1. ii. p. 449. <fe 1. i. c. 62. p, 337.) It was situated on the road from Jerusalem to Jencho, eighteen mile* distant, and Was the highest mountain about Jerusatein ; but Mount Gatiaon, eight miles distant, is tfmch higher. From the city which stood on hills. Mount ■Olivet appeared low, but .very high to those who came frorti Jericho, Mount Sion was almost as high, but much less in extent No trees were seen on Mount Olivet but vines and olives ; and it was in most parts covered with verdure. Beth- phage and Bethania were two villages situated on the ascent of Mount Olivet : the former Was nearer the city and belonged to die priests.

b Ena. Vi*. Constant. L iii. c. 43. c Syn. Cntic. A Calmet d lb.

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at i.j

Hebrews,* the attendance of angels who received and accompanied him.b While the disciples stood gazing after him* with their eyes fixed on the heavens, tWo angels appeared like men in white garments, standing by them, who said : “ Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye look- “ ing up to heaven? This Jesus who is taken up from you, shall so “ come, in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven that i$> he shall descend in his human nature, attended by his mighty aiigels, in a flaming fire, (2 Thes. i. 7, 8,) and will catch up his elect in the clouds. (1 Thes. iv. 16. 17.) This cloud of fire and glory is such, in which God was wont to appear with the attendance of his holy angels. The Apostles, after this glorious sight, returned full of joy to Jerusalem, (Luke xxiv. 52 (Acts i. 12),) where they shut them- selves up together in an upper room, and remained in prayer, in com- pliance with the order* of their divine Master, when lie commanded them to abide in Jerusalem till they should be strengthened by the coming of the Holy Ghost upon them. (Acts i. 4; Luke xxiv; 49*) We are informed by the ancient tradition of the church, confirmed ps to the day from the sacred authority of the Holy Scriptures, (Acts t. 3?) that Jesus ascended to heaven on the fortieth day after his resurrectiea, on a Thursday, about noon.c Several Fathers of the fourth, fifth, eighth, and all succeeding ages, and modern travel- lers, assure us, that the prints of his feet remain in the hard reck ih the place where he last stood oh earth, and have ever been devoutly visited by pious pilgrims, at least ever since the fourth century. “ There remain the prints of his footsteps,” says St. Austin ; “they “are new adoredd where he stood last on earth, on the spot “ whence he ascended into heaven.” The same Is affirmed by St. Optatus,0 St- Paulinos/ St. Sulpicius Severus \g the ancient and accurate author of the book, On the Hebrew Places, among the Works of St. Jerom, highly commended by Erasmus, Scaligat, and other critics ; Bede,h and modern travellers quoted by Hos- weide/ Tillemont/ &c. Casaubon, the learned Protestant critic, calls it a wonder well deserving credit.1 St. Pauliuus, and Sulpicius Severus, tells us the spot never could be covered with any

» Thus, 44 1 will appear in the cloud,” (Lev. xvi. 9<) means frecb between tike two Cherubim, (Exod. xxv. 22.) Tim appearance of angels in the Scripture is often indicated by a cloud. See Dr. Hammond, <fcc.

A learned critic has Wrote a long dissertation, in which he produces the authorities of the Prophets and the Fathers to prove Christ ascended towards the East, and that his coming again will be in like manner, from the East : that as he ascended from Mount Olivet, so his seat and tribunal at the last judgment Will be there : for which he refers to (Joel iii. 2). See Mr. J. Gregory’s Notes under this title ; Orient Nomen qut. But it is not clear that the East or the rising Sen is not applied to Christ in a metaphorical sense.

c Const. Apost 1. v, o. 19. d Mode adorantur. S. Aug. Tr. 47. in Joan. n. 4.

* 8. Qptat. 1. vi. p. 55.

* S. Paulin, ep. 31. ad Sever, n. 4. <fe 1. 6. Carm. de S. Martin.

f S. Sulpic. Sever. Hist Sac. 1. ii. c. 43. p. 15*2.

k Bfeda, 1. de Locis Sanctis, c. 7. T. iii.

1 Rosw* Not. in S. Paufin, p. 781 Mnratori, ib. a Prado in Sulpit Sever, loc. cit k Tillem. T. i. p. 54.

* Cassub. Exert, Iff. in Baron. 154. p. 772.

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pavement, though this had often been attempted : also that no vio- lence had been able to efface them. This will appear the more won- derful, as the Roman army, when Titus besieged the city, was encamped upon Mount Olivet ; and as the Empress Helena built a church upon this very spot, as Eusebius relates.a

Christ ascending into heaven sits at the right hand of the Father. The ascension is to be understood of his human nature only. As God fills all places at once in heaven, earth, and hell, being by his immensity present in all places, and to all creatures, preserving, governing and moving all, more closely intimate to our innermost parts than we are to ourselves. He is, indeed, said to reside particu- larly in heaven, because he there displays the most sensible and mag- nificent effects of his presence in the riches of his glory and goodness ; also in the souls of the just on earth, in which he manifests his com- placency and bounty. When therefore we say, that God departs from, or goes to creatures, this is meant only of the manifestation of his presence by certain extraordinary effects, not by any real transmi- gration or removal of his substance. “ What is meant by thy going “ away ? And what by thy coming?” says S. Austin.1* “ For thou u neither leavest the place, from whence thou goest, nor comest anew u where thou arrivest. But thou goest away by concealing or with- “ drawing certain effects of thy presence ; thou comest by manifest- “ ing them.” Christ, therefore, as God, filled the heavens and earth, whilst his assumed human nature hypostatically united to his divine person, dwelt only on earth. And when we profess that Christ ascen- ded into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father, we mean, that as man, with the same human body and soul in which he was born, died and rose again, he mounted up to heaven : not the lower hea- ven or region of the air, or even that of the stars, but the highest hea- ven, the immediate habitation of the Almighty, by the full display of his glorious presence.

By the word sitteth we do not imagine him confined to that posture of body, but only mean, thathe “ dwells there, as we say of a man, that “ he resided or sat in a country so many years,” says S. Austin.' Also that he is in heaven with power and jurisdiction as Lord of all creatures, head and sovereign judge of men. For amongst the an- cient Hebrews, Persians, Syrians, Greeks, and Romans, judges gave sentence sitting. Whence the exercise of their authority is expressed by that word in the Psalms, and other parts of holy Scripture, and in other writers. Christ in heaven is, with respect to us men, our Re- deemer, Mediator, High-priest, Victim, Father, Brother, Master, Doctor, Pastor, Spouse, Physician, King, and Judge: He is the author and finisher of our faith, and will be our happiness. With respect to all creatures he is the beginning and the end, the first and the last, in whom and by whom all things are, inasmuch as he is God. As man, God hath constituted him the heir of all things, having conferred on him the dominion: He is the restorer of all things

in heaven and on earth. He is the first-born of all creatures,

» Eos. de Vit. Constant. 1. in. c. 43. * S. Ang. Tr. 68. in Joan. T. iii. p. 686.

c 8. Ang. b. i. de Symbol, ad Catechnm. T. ix. p. 4388.

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being as God before all creatures from eternity, and the Creator of all ; and being as man the first in excellency, or raised above all crea- tu res, and the Lord of all. Therefore, as man he exercises a power and authority over all creatures, particularly (tver man. This we ex- press by saying that “ He sitteth.”

When we add : “ At the right hand of the Father,” we must not fancy that the Father has any hands or limbs. Being the most pure and perfect spirit, he can have no parts, but is one simple uncompounded substance. This, therefore, is a metaphorical expression, signifying that Christ as God is equal in majesty with his Father in all things, as S. Austin* and S. Chrysostom5 explain it. But this expression is chiefly to be understood of Christ as man, and signifies that in his assumed nature he is beneath the Godhead, and above all creatures in dignity, glory, and authority. This the Prophets had foretold. “ The “ Lord said to my Lord: sit thou at my right hand.” (Ps. cix. 1.) S. Paul and the other apostles speak of and explain it as follows : “ Rais- “ ing him from the dead, and placing him on his right hand in the “ heavens: above every principality, and power, and virtue, and domi- “ nation, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but “ also in that to come. And he hath put all things under his feet, “ and made him the head over all the cnurch, which is his body, and “ and the fulness of him who is filled all in all, by the union of all “ his members in himself.” (Ephes. i. 20, 21, 22.)c And again: “ Who is on the right hand of God, swallowing down death, that we u might be made heirs of life everlasting ; being gone into heaven, “ the angels, the powers, and virtues being made subject to him, (1 “ Peter lii. 22,) who sitteth on the right hand of God.” (Romans viii. 34 (Col. iii. 1).)

CHAP. II.

On the Exercises of Devotion by which we ought to honour this Mystery , and sanctify this Festival .

Holt jubilee, thanksgiving, love, and praise, are an homage which we owe on this festival, botn because it is the most happy and glorious close of the triumph of our divine Redeemer, and on account of the unutterable advantages which accrue to us from this mystery. Christ’s resurrection from the dead was the commencement of his triumph, because he then came forth clothed in glory, and victorious over sin and hell ; but his triumph was completed in the most glorious man- ner in his ascension, when he entered and took possession of his heavenly kingdom, and was seated on the throne of his glory, at the right hand of the Father. After his resurrection, being now im- mortal and impassible, he ought no longer to remain on earth. This place of banishment, this valley of tears, this seat of miseries and corruption, was not a dwelling tnal suited his present state of glory. Heaven was his due, and its citizens most earnestly and justly de-

* 3. Aug. 1. de Fide <fe Symbolo, c. 7. b S. Chrys. Horn. 6. contra Anouk.

® See Eatfru in eum. loc. & Catechism. Roman, in Art. vL Symboli.

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Mattd#d Mm f tb# thww #f his royalty tM thare prfptrtd at the rtgfci hand erf the father If the earth, reeking With innocent biding and the filth and abominations of sin, was not worthy of the holy servants of God, as S. Paul cfoserves, (Hebr. xi* 38,) infinitely less ceald H deserve to detain the Saint of Saints now in his glorified state. He, as God, is the “brightness of the glory of his Father, and the figure “ of his substance,” (Heb, i. 3,) that is, the infinite e^etemal splendour of that immense abyss, and overfiowing source of tight; tne co-equal emanation of that original glory, springing from him by an ineffable generation, without being preceded by him, Without inferiority to him, without any abatement/^ diminution in any perfec- tion, or the least alteration in the most simple and most perfect Onion of nature with him ; eternal, unchangeable, supreme, true God of the true God ; the adorable and express image of his substance, and of his incomprehensible glory, on which he has stamped him- self, without the least subtraction of his own being or perfections, which he from eternity communicates to him in their absolute fulness, so that the Son is one God of the same individual nature or substance, though a distinct or second person, equal to him in majesty and glory. As man he is the natural son of God, his human nature being hypoS- tatically united and assumed in the second person of the Trinity. During the course of his mortal slate, the lustre of his glory seemed Obscured under that veil; though on that very account, through the excess of his goodness, it is the more adorable. It was just that it should at length break through these clouds, and shine forth in its natural brightness. Jesus fot our 9akes had been humbled beneath all creattrre8 on earth ; the time was now Gome for him to be exalted : he had suffered most cruel torments, and ought at length to exchange them for the pure delights of his bliss. These were due to him as he was the natural Son of God, and heir ef all things ; also, because he had purchased them to his humanity by his obedience to his Father, and by the ignominy and torments of his sacred death. The heavens, which had clothed themselves with mourning at his sufferings, ear- nestly deshred to possess the glory of his corporal presence, and to crown his humanity j but the darkness of the world &d not know him who was its tight, and men blinded by pride and sensual passions refused to receive him. It was therefore just, that he should leave an im- pious, ungrateful, and insensible world, and no longer defer the crowns which on so many titles waited for him. He had paid our ransom, fulfilled the ancient types and prophecies, accomplished the great Work for which the Father had sent him, and completed his victory and triumph over sin and hell. Therefore “ He ascended above all “ the heavens, that he might fill all things.” (Ephes. iv. 1(h) The joy and glory of this mystery was hidden from all mortal eyes. It is, however, just, that we should, according to our weak capacity, join this solemnity in the devotion of onr hearts, and represent to ourselves Something of this heavenly triumph. Doubtless, multitudes of angels descended on that occasion, and covered Mount Olivet ; but they at- tended to express their jov, and make a tender of their homages, hot to lend their aid. When Jesus was dead, his divinity, which remained

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iiwifs united both tb Sis body in the grave, and to his soul in Limbo, fefored bis humanity to life without any foreign succours In like inahnrir, At his ascension, he mounted to heaven, hot borne up in a fiery chariot and whirlwind as Elias, nor carried by any angel* as the Prophet HabAccuc ; but by his own power and strength. The humble Princes of his church whom he left on earth, the holy Apostles, anA the blessed Virgin Mary, were present. “ Blessing them with his u hands lifted up, he began to be raised.” What songs of exultation arid praise then filled the air! What sweet sound of heavenly music! What noises of harmonious loud trumpets ! “ The Lord is ascended " with jubilee ; and God in the sound of trumpet.” (Ps. lvi. 6.) As troops of angels sung praises with corporeal voices in assumed bodies At his birth, so may we presume, that on this festival day, they filled the air with their melodious voices, to honour the triumph of a God made man ; though their homages chiefly were paid by their interior sentiments and prostrations. Whilst he is carried up in unutterable brightness and glory, what invisible hosts, what chariots of fire grace his triumph! Tne Princes of heaven attended him; and who can express or conceive in what majesty and pomp ; with what tokens of honour; and what testimonies of admiration, love and praise f i€ Princes went before joined with singers, in the midst of young * ones playing on timbrels;” (Ps. lxviii. 20,) that is, in the midst of the souls cif just nieri. All cry out : “ Sing praises to God ; sing ye. u Sing praises to our King ; sing ye. ( (Ps. xlvi. 7):) Sing ye to God “ who mounteth above the heavens of heavens to the East.” (Ps. fcrviii. 34.) In particular, the souls of all the ancient holy Patriarchs. Prophets, and other Saints, to which till then the gates of heaven had been shut ; but which are now carried up by him thither In glory, as they triumphantly follow their Redeemer, sound forth his victory in the highest Strains of seal, gratitude, love, adoration, praises, an^ thanksgiving. Of their part in this triumph, the Royal Prophet said, speaking of Christ ? M He hath led captivity captive.” (Ephes. iv. 8.) They were formerly captives of the devil and sin: Christ having powerfully rescued them from his tyranny, leads them to heaven as the trophies of his victory, the rich spoils he has taken, the proofs of the overthrow of the enemy* the price of his adorable blooa, ana the ornament and glory of his holy triumph. With them he pierced the highest heavens. With what kind of ovation do we think, he was there received? “ How great, how happy a procession was this, to " which the Apostles themselves were not yet worthy to be admitted ? ” cries out S. Bernard.* Certainly no tongue can utter, no mortal conceive, with what joy and solemn pomp the sacred humanity of our Redeemer was received into his kingdom, and placed on the throne of his majesty, power, and glory.

The highest honour that could be conferred among the ftomans was that of a triumph, which the senate decreed in favour of an Em- peror or greAt general, after some most illustrious victories gained, And conquests achieved, by his valour and conduct. The conqueror

S. Bern. Serm. 2. in Ascen s. n. 3.

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entered the city, not by the gates but through a passage richly adorned, made in the walls which were broken down on purpose to open it for him.* Before him marched in great pomp, first, the trumpeters in numerous troops playing; next the oxen des- tined for the sacrifices adorned with ribbands and flowers and with their horns gilt; then the spoils taken, which consisted of everything rare and rich which the conquered countries produced; often of elephants, and the like extraordinary things always of great quan- tities of precious stones gold, silver, and statues together with rich images of the conquered cities mountains and rivers elegantly made of gold, silver, wax or ivory. After these walked the kings cap- tains and other remarkable persons of the enemies who had been made prisoners bound with chains of gold, silver, or iron. The Ro- man officers and musicians attended, playing on all manner of instru- ments ; and various inventions of stateliness and gaudy pomp added lustre to the majesty of the procession. The conqueror followed in the procession, seated on a rich, open, round, and lofty chariot of ivory, adorned with gold, in the shape of a round tower, drawn bv four white horses or four elephants. He was crowned with laurel, (that is with bay, this tree being tbe laurel of the ancient Romans, and an evergreen.) He held in his right liand a green branch of the same laurel, and in his left a sceptre of ivory, with a gold figure of an eagle on the top ; many gold crowns were carried before him. The tri- umphal chariot was followed by the senators in procession, by the soldiers and people. The different orders of the priests in gaudy habits, with their idols, walked in ranks, and the riches of the whole empire were displayed to adorn the show. Triumphal arches were erected for the procession to pass by, or under, loaded with orna- ments and inscriptions. Often such arches were built to perpetuate the memory of the victories and triumph ; some of which are still standing at Rome, the wonders of all succeeding ages, for the ele- gance of the taste, and beauty and excellency of the workmanship.

If men did this here below, to recompense some little service done to the commonwealth, what pomp do we think the heavenly court must have displayed, for the reception of this great Conqueror, who had achieved such mighty and wonderful things, and gained such glo- rious victories over the world, the devil, sin, death, and hell ? The heavens celebrate one unin terrupted^ eternal festival. But as S. Bona- venture writes :b “ In that blessed country there never was any other “ day so great and solemn as this.” S. Chrysostom makes this reflec- tion:6 “ If all the angels rejoice when they see one sinner converted, “ how much did they rejoice on this day, beholding human nature in u its first fruits raised to heaven ? And, if the blessed choirs glori- “ fied God at the birth of Christ, because the earth had received the “ gift of reconciliation, how did they exult when this was accdm- “ plished, and when heaven received its king of glory ? ”

The royal Prophet, contemplating the glorious Ascension of our

* See Valtrinus, de re militari Romanorum , 1. vii. c. 8. Casalius, de Romani

Imperii splendore, part 2, c. 1. * S. Bonav. Life of Christ, ch. 94.

• S. Chryi. Horn, de Ascens. Domini, T, iii. p, 463, ed, Ben.

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Lord into heaven, cried out : 11 Open your gates, ye Princes of the “ heavenly courts ; and be you lifted up, O eternal gates, and the « King of Glory shall enter in” (Ps. xxiii. 7.) M Who is that King of « Glory ? The Lord strong and powerful ; the Lord mighty in bat- « tie. (t6. v. 8.) Open your gates, ye Princes ; and be you lifted up, O « eternal £ates,” which have been so many thousandy ears shut against the postenty of Adam. What was the joy, what the astonishment of the angels, when they saw human nature in Christ exalted above them,, and placed at the right hand of God ! When they beheld Christ a& man, who had been outrageously judged and condemned on earth* now acknowledged Lerd of all creatures, and Judge of men ! In what transports did they adore him seated on the throne of his glory ! With what praises did they celebrate his victories, who by his humili- ations and torments had repaired their ruin, redeemed man, subdued Satan, broke down the gates of the empire of death and hell, and car- ried off their trophies! To this great Conqueror, who has achieved such mighty things, let us, for whom he has done all this, proclaim aloud his praises, saying with the thousands of thousands of heavenly spirits : “ The Lamb which was slain, is worthy to receive power, and M the homages of the divinity, and wisdom, and strength, and honour^

“ and glory, and benediction for ages without end.” (Revel, v. 12.} O King of Glory, all the choirs of heaven have earnestly desired and awaited for you. After your labours, bloody agony, torments* and death, now « Arise into your rest, you and the ark of sanli6ca- tion,” (Ps. cxxxi. 8,) the ark of your sacred body, in which you paid the price of our Redemption, brought forth the mysteries of your holy Sacraments, and concealed the treasures of your divine science* wisdom, and grace ; which, in a word, you have sanctified and enno- bled in so incomprehensible a manner. Carry this with you into the Holy of Holies, above the highest Seraphim, place it at the right hand of the Father, that it may be seated on its throne, which for us; hung upon the cross.

We must join the angels in celebrating the triumph of our divine Redeemer on this festival ; for “ this solemnity,” as S. Bonaventure says,* “ is the accomplishment of the mysteries of the life, and the M blessed close of the earthly course of lhe Lord Jesus Christ, Son M of the living God. “For his sake, is this day more dear and so- M lemn than all the others, and he who truly loves the Lord Jesus* M will be more powerfully excited to praise God' on it, than on an r u other day of the year.” But whilst we are so justly taken up witfx the triumph of Jesus, we must not forget the incomparable advan. tages which it has procured us, and which, in particular, call forth our attention, and awake our devotion.

When we turn our eyes from the heavens, and look upon otnv selves, does not this mystery, so joyful, so glorious, to the blessed spirits, seem rather a subject of mourning to us who by it are left orphans on earth ? Can 9heep rejoice to lose their pastor? Or children to see their most loving and best parent, and Redemer* taken

» S. Bonav. Life of Christ, chap. 94v

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from them. “ What share have I in tlmsp *olpmpUi©$2” criei nut S. Bernard pathetically :* “ Who wul coipfort m©» O Lqrd Jews* that ?* I did pot see you when you suffered for me, and did not bathe “ ypur wounfls with my tears? That you left m© uusaluted when* “ O King of Glory, beautiful in the stole of your humanity, you took " your flight to the highest havens ^ fyty soul would hare tjmt© r©- “ fused all comfort, ^ the aPgcU had not prevented me by these “ words of jjoy : This Jesus who taken up from you* wiU com© i©

* the samp manner th*d you have seen him going into heaven* He “ wiU come, saj they, in th.e same manner, in majesty and glory*

* to seek us. Then f fdso shall see him, hut not yet ; j shall behold *' him, but not ^ present*” He is gone away from us, only th%t we may iollow him* may be propped to meet him with confidence and jjoy at the last, d^yi and may be eternally with him.

" therefore, the great reasons we have to sigh end

" ' 1 ‘ *' 1 ’ presence, we find motives of

paoum in ptur panism^ept from his

spiritual comfort and joy in his departure* It is our greatest interest apd advantage j and ii is far sake* that he is ascended to heir veil. “ It is expedient for you that l go. j” sayahd* (Jonn xii. 7.) He wept,' 1st, To send b\s cp^forting Spirit, the Holy U^ost: 2°dty3, To open the gates of he^yep for ps: 3rdiy, To. he our advocate in heaven i and 4thly, T^o draw us thither after him. He withdrew his sensible presence, not to leavp us orphan?, but to send his holy Spin! to remain always ynyi us, and tp diffpsp bis overflowing gilts in eur hearts/ “ Let us therefore sigh an 4 pray,” says S. Bernards “ that " this divine Comforter may And us worthy, ami may fiU our house: u that he may teach ps wi(h h^s unction, may eubghteu our under-

* standing, and purify opr affections. As the serpent pf Moses de- a voured all the spirits of the magician?, so will this divine Spirit cow- u sume pll our earthly affections and spnsuaj appetites.” In anptkar place hp writes : “ Ehsgeus going to Ipse his master Elias, prayed that " he might receive his double spirit, which destroyed m his heart all “ earthly affections, and gave him those which are heaVeply.”^ Much more earnestly must we pray that Christ make up to us the privation of his sensiblp corpora) presence, by the overflowing gifts of his holy spirit, which he went to bestow upon us.

/ The second advantage which his ascension affords us, and which ought; to fill our hearts with holy joy, is* that he goes to open the gates of heaven to us. Even the Saints of the old law could not en- ter this region of bliss, till Christ by his death had unlocked these gates, and, had first entered them for us. This was prefigured in the old law, by the inner sanctuary in the temple being always kept shut, except once a year on the Feast of Expiation, on which it was opened, when the High Priest alone entered in, with the blood of victims, re- presenting the precious blood of Christ, as S. Paul shows : “ Jesus,** mys that Apostle, “is not. entered into sanctuaries made with hands^

* the patterns of the true, (t, e . heaven,) but into heaven itaelfr tfcpt

* Vervmtamen quid mihi et solemnitatibu » utis f S. Bern. Serin. 2. in Ascens.

* Intuebor et ego eum, sed non modo : Videbo eum ted non prope . S. Bern. ibid.

f S. Bera.Seniif3.de Af&ns, *8. Bern, Sena. 3. de Ascens,

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«• he may appear new in the presence of God far us* Not yet that

* he should offer himself often, as the High Priest entered into the ** holy places every year with the blood of ethers,” (Heb. ix. 24, 25,) which he declares to be a figure -of Christ entering heaven by hires* eensien. (Heb. U. 7, 8, 11,12; & ch. vi. 19,20.) “The Priest “ entered alone the Holy of Holies,” says S. Austin,* “ the people “ stood without ; as now Christ ha9 entered the secret sanctuary of *< heaven, that he may intercede for us at the right hand of the Fa* « ther ; but the people, of whom he is the priest, sigh without.*9 Whilst we weep in our famishment from heaven, and from the most amiable countenance of oar adorable and infinitely loving Redeemer, we receive inexpressible comfort from the glorious mystery ef his ascension. By it he has rent and taken away the veil which hid the sanctuary from the people in the old law, an emblem of tbe gate of heaven being shut to man till opened by his death, and entered by him and the souls of the ancient Saints at his ascension. He has now fulfilled all the types and prophecies frena the beginning of the world, relating to all the mysteries of his Incarnation and holy life, and to man’s Redemption, thus showing our deliverance and happi- ness to he completed. Now he has filled heaven with glory^ and the earth with hie gifts and gyaces. Hence the Apostle says s “ He a*

* eended above the heavens that he might fill all things •” (Ephe* iv. 10.) Net only as God, but by his humanity he has in his ascension given a new face of glory to the heavens. Though they were ahrayfe replenished with the immensity of the glory of his Godhead, nor could he as Ged receive any exaltation in himself, yet his attributes were more wonderfully displayed, and he received from this great work new titles of adoration, honour, and glory. And by carrying Ua humanity in its glorified state unto the highest throne of the heavens, he filled them with the unparalleled brightness of its glory, which the angels desire to behold. What a subject of joy is the contemplation of this Man-God, this great triumpher over the devil and sin, to aH the blessed to eternity 1 How must the highest angels be transported with joy, and lost in astonishment, when they see man m Christ raised so high in heaven ? Man of a nature so much inferior; man who had sinned, who had been condemned to eternal torments, now eialted, beyond all comparison, above the most sublime heavenly spirits, as their Lord ; raised to the highest throne, and placed at the right hand of God. “ It is a great and unspeakable subject of joyv” says S. Leo,* “ that our human nature is mounted above the dignity

* of all creatures in heaven, higher than the angels and archangels, <* nor stopping in its ascent till it is seated at the right hand of the « Father, en the throne of his glory, whose nature it is made, and v* and into whose person it is assumed and united.” And an knciefit (nous author of a sermon on this mystery, amongst the works of S. Chrysostom,' cries out : “ Let us exult on this day, seeing tbe first “ ft nits of our nature ascending on high, and placed at the nght hand

v Angb 1. St contra EpisU Partnea. o. a. 14.

* S> ban, * de A****.

f Serm. ii. de Ascens. inter Op, S. Chrys, T. iii. p. 779. Ed. Ben,

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44 of God; consider the excess of the divine goodness towards us, •‘which, when our whole nature stood condemned under so dreadful a 4 ‘curse, has suddenly raised it to so exalted a state, and at the same 44 time restored us to heaven who were unworthy of life. Our nature 41 in Christ holds the first place in heaven, and that which was the 41 scorn of devils is adored by angels. O happy envy of Satan (not 44 in itself, but in the glory and fruits which the divine goodness has 44 taken occasion from it to produce) ! O snares, which have been an 44 occasion of so great glory and so much good ! The devil, who 44 envied our nature witn such rage as to overthrow it, now beholds it 44 adored in heaven, and possessed of greater honour, and more glori- 44 ous advantages, than those of which he had deprived it. Therefore 44 on this day, I rejoice and exult, and exhort you to rejoice with me. 44 For behold, we who had forfeited Paradise are raised to heaven, 44 and greater advantages are conferred upon us than we had formerly 44 lost." It is our triumph in and with our Divine Redeemer. He is triumphantly received as Conqueror ; but his triumph is over our enemies, and its object is our deliverance from their tyranny. He has broken the chains with which we were held captives. With his blood he has set us free from the most miserable slavery and eternal death to which we stood condemned. Christ triumphs but as our Saviour, and the heavens celebrate our victory in his ; our triumph with &nd through him. Jesus would not triumph alone ; but would have us to share with him in its glory and advantages. This mysteiy has filled heaven with joy ; first, for Christ’s glory and triumph, and secondly, for our deliverance : also on its own account, in repairing the breaches, and calling men to fill up the places of the fallen angels. The earth also. Christ has replenished, through his ascension, with his gifts and graces. The royal Prophet and the Apostle expressed this double effect of Christ’s ascension, when they said: 44 He led cap- 44 tivity captive: He gave gifts to men.*’ (Ps. lxvii. 19-) He received

rils from the earth, the souls of men, rescued from the captivity of devil, and made his own captives, and he transplanted them into heaven. And he bestows on the earth the highest gifts of his graces to the end of time. He is gone on purpose continually to procure, and plentifully shower them down upon us.

For our blessed Redeemer has ascended to heaven, not so as to forget us, but to be our advocate there, and to draw us thither after him. Christ continues in heaven to act the part, and discharge the functions of our Mediator, Advocate, and High Priest: “He is 44 entered for us, made an High Priest for ever, according to the order 44 of Melchisedec.” (Heb. vi. 20.) “Jesus entered into heaven itself, 44 that he may appear now in the presence of God for us." (Heb. ix. 24.) “ In heaven he is our Mediator with God, with whom we have 44 peace through him." (Eph. i.7 (Col. i. 14).) 44 He is our peace." (Eph. ii. 14.) Destroying our enmity with God in himself." (Ib. v. 16.) 44 Blot- 44 ting out the hand-writing which was against us : (Col. ii. 14.) making 44 peace through the blood of his cross, both as to the things on earth, 44 and the things that are in heaven." (Col. i. 20.) It is in his human nature th*t he performed the functions of Mediator on earth, mid

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continues the same office in heaven. “ Christ Jesus is the Mediator “ of God and men, not as God, but as he is man,” as St. Austin observes,* and as theologians clearly show. In the same human nature he is still our advocate with his Father. “ We have an advo- « cate with the Father, Jesus Christ the just:” (1. (John ii. 1).) “ Always living to intercede for us.” (Heb. vii. 25.) He is also our High Priest for ever in heaven. (Heb.iv. 1 4 ; v. 5 ; vi. 20 ; vii. 1 1 ; ix. 1 1 ; x. 12.) He pleads for us, showing the prints or scars of his wounds to his Father to appease his anger, and obtain his graces in our behalf. And he continues in his church on earth the same sacrifice of his body and blood in an unbloody manner, which he offered once in bloody manner for our Redemption, on the cross ; on account of which, offered in the symbols of bread and wine, he is called a priest for ever, accord- ing to the order of Melchisedec, who offered an ancient figure of the Mass in bread and wine. He also continues in heaven to be our head, from whom we derive the continual influx of his graces and merits. (Eph. i. 22 (Rom. viii. 29).) He is likewise our brother: “ The “ first born amongst many brethren,” (Rom. viii. 17,) and through the excess of his condescension and love, we are styled, “ Heirs of God, “ and co-heirs with Christ.” (John xiv.)

By his ascension he strongly calls us to this inheritance with him, being gone to draw us after him. “ I go to prepare a place for you, 4‘ and I will take you to myself, that where I am there you may be u also.” (Hebr. vi. 19, 20.) This the Apostle calls “ the anchor of " our hope, both sure and stedfast that Jesus, the forerunner, “ is “ entered for us within the veil.” A forerunner is a relative term, and must necessarily have regard to some following behind. We are here implied. Ah f nothing so powerfully withdraws our hearts from the love of the world, and raises them to heaven as the contemplation of this mystery.] i Christ our God, our Redeemer, our love, and our all, is gone before : he calls, he conjures, he commands us to follow him. For this he came down from heaven, led so laborious and painful a life on earth, suffered a most cruel and ignominous death, rose again, and ascended into heaven. The end which he proposed to himself in all these mysteries is, to call us after him to heaven. If we neglect this call, we frustrate all the designs of his love and mercy. We must follow our dear Lord at present in desire, and in our whole hearts. Alas ! we follow him only in part, and in a very little part indeed, with very faint desires. And the reason is, because we still love the world, and our souls cannot soar up to heaven, but in pro- portion as their wings, that is, their affections, are disentangled from its glue. Hence Christ inculcates, and strictly requires a sincere and perfect contempt of the world, a spiritual circumcision of the heart, and entire crucifixion of our earthly and sensual appetites, as the pre- liminary article in his service, and the foundation of that pure, spiri- tual, and heavenly love, to which he invites us. To renounce and die daily more and more perfectly to the world, we must labour with unwearied application to gain every day a more complete victory over our passions, by the constant practice of self-denial and penance to

* S. Aug. Tr. ii. in Joan. 12. 4.

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(Me mote and more to ourselves, and to scour our hearts from the m of earthly desires and affections, by assidious prayer and holy medita- tion. When we shall begin, not In part, bnt with our whole hearts, to despise the world, and to desire sovereignly and only to live to God ; then will the contemplation of the glorious mystery of our Lord’s ascension kindle in our hearts a vehement love and desire of *ihe spiritual goods of grace, and of eternal life, and convert all our affections into this pure and ardent love. It was for this that our Divine Redeemer would make his Apostles witnesses to his ascen- sion, his triumph, and his glory. Do we wonder, that when they saw their dear Lord, thus going from them, to take possession of his hea- venly kingdom, they stood in extasies unmoved, with their eyes fixed on the heavens after him, whither their hearts earried them with the most vehement ardour ? Two angels, in the shape of men, clothed in white, appeared standing by them, and said to them : “ Men of

* Galilee, why do you stand, looking up to heaven ?** The word!

Galilee signifies a country subjeet to changes, and the Galileans were strangers at Jerusalem. The name therefore agrees to our situation in this world, and the reproach of the angels may with great propriety be addressed also to us. We are strangers and travellers on earth, posting on without stopping, to our dear heavenly country. Why then do wo love this wretched world, and study to amuse ourselves with its vanities and follies ? A traveller looks upon all things on his road with indifference, and as not his own t they touch him not, because he has no interest in them. He uses things as he passes for present ne- oossity, but does not stop to build houses, or loiter and amuse himself in the meadows through which he travels, having his thoughts con- stantly taken up upon, and directing all his views to his own country, estate, and family, and the pleasures, enjoyments, and employ, which wait for him there. How much more ought the sight of this wretched world, its emptiness, folly, blindness, and miseries $ its vanities, snares, frightful precipices, scandals, and vices, make us with our whole hearts despise, abhor, and dread it : shun its dangerous pleasures, and use it in necessaries as if we used it not ; with indifference, not setting our hearts on any transitory goods, nor regarding them as of any real vglue further than they may serve the purposes of virtue, and the necessary uses of life, according to the spirit of Christian simplicity and mortification ? How much more ought the incomprehensible de- lights and glory of our heavenly country, above all, the enjoyment of onr God and Redeemer, attract our hearts thither after him ? Why do not we aspire and sigh continually after it ? Find no comfort, no joy, bat in the thought and expectation of it, and in straining every sinew, m hastening by all good works to fbllow our Divine Lord and Redeemer ? Why do we suffer our hearts to shoot the roots of their affections in a cursed foreign soil, so deep that we often seem to lose sight of our blessed country ? “ If you are risen with Christ seek

« the things that are above, where Christ is sitting at the right hand

* of God : mind the things that are above, not the things that are

* upon earth.*' (Col. iii. 1. 2.) The Apostles, when they obeyed the pngels in leaving Mount Olivet, never lost sight of their Lord, now

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seated aft tbe right band of bis Father in immortal glory. This was always present in the most lively manner to their minds ; and their hearts remained always fixed there. They continually regarded them^ selves as traveUers and strangers here below, (Pet. ii. 1 1,) sighing after the bliss and light of heaven, with the whole insensible creation, which longs, as the Apostle expresses it, after the day of its renova- tion in glory at the end of time. (Rom. viii. 19*) Desiring to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. (Phil. i. 21.) Having their convex sation in heaven, (2 Cor. v. 2,) saying : “ For in this we groan, desi- “ ring to be clothed upon with our habitation that is from heaven, tf that that which is mortal may be swallowed up by life.’1 (2 Con v. 2, 4.) In the same spirit, imitating daily their sighs, we must follow our Divine Lord in our hearts. “ On this day our Lord Jesus u ascended to heaven, our hearts must ascend with him,” says 8. Austin P u though our body be not yet there, our hope and atieo t* tiou are already there."6

But “ Hope which is delayed is an affliction to the soul." (Prov. xxii. 12.) Our sighs are cries of mourning, though intermixed with comfort and joy. “ The spouse being on this day taken from the H sons, they are to mourn,” as he himself hath said. (Matt. ix. 15.)

How then is it any longer good for us to be here ? How ia H noft ** tedious and dangerous ? Here below malice abounds, and very <+ little wisdom or virtue is found, if even a little. AH things are

* slippery, dangerous, vicious, covered with dsrkpess, filled with

snares. Here is nothing under the sun but dangers, vanity/ and

* affliction of spirit. Let us therefore raise up our hearts with our H hands to heaven, and follow our Lord in his ascension by the steps Hof devotion. The time will come when even our bodies being H made spiritual, wiH be taken up into the air to meet him in the H clouds : And shall our earthly souls now loiter, or refuse to follow h him r” These are the words of St. Bernard.6 We cannot wonder that the Apostles were filled with sadness when they heard their Divine Master tell them, that he was about to leave them, and that whither he went they could not go. (John viii. 21.) They were ready to attend him wherever he should go on earth. St. Peter even committed himself to the waves to meet him. (Matt. xiv. 11.) They had left all things to follow him ; and now saw themselves orphans, and abandoned in the midst of enemies, like wolves raging against them. Neither were they yet strengthened by the descent Of the Holy Ghost the Comforter, who had not then shed his beams upon them. Jesus was their dear Master,' their support, their light, their strength, their comfort, and their joy : m him they had ad things ; and in losing him they lost their all. They were therefore justly afflicted. And do not we mourn with them under our manifold dangers and miseries, and at our distance from our heavenly country, our Saviour, and our God ? In this affliction, tears of compunction, love, and desire, ought to be our comfort, our joy, and, as it were, our

» S. Aug. Serin. 264. (de Ascens. 3.) n. 2. 6 Id. de A gone Christ,

• S, Bern, Sena, 6. in Ascens.

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very food. (Ps. xli. 4.) This sorrow is alleviated by the overflow- ing comfort we derive from the contemplation of the happy triumph of our dear Redeemer, and the assurance that he is gone to take us one day to himself for eternity. In this hope we must never cease to pray for the accomplishment of his kingdom in us, and that he be mercifully pleased to unite us for ever to himself. This was his de- sire, and his prayer to his heavenly Father, (John xvii. 24,) and the end of all his mysteries. For this he became man, died, rose again, and ascended into heaven. For he will not ascend or reign alone, though he is gone first : he will have his members with him. He has prepared a kingdom also for us, and calls us to a partnership in his bliss. He has written us his coheirs and brothers; and declarer that he is gone to his Father and our Father, to his God and our God ; (John xx. 17 ;) and he invites, exhorts, and commands us to follow him. The first fruits of those whom he has redeemed, he carried up with him to glory : us he will shortly gather to himself. How do our hearts glow at such an excess of love and goodness in our gracious God and Redeemer ! How are our souls transported with joy at the glorious triumph of his sacred humanity ! How ought they to burn with his holy love, and with an earnest desire of speedily being put in possession of this bliss, in which we shall behold, praise, and love him, and enjoy in him all good, world without end? So great ought this love and this desire to be, as to make us refuse all comfort here below, except that which the hope of this happiness affords to our hearts. In these sentiments the pious and learned John Gerson, Chancellor of Paris, writes as follows, in his Meditation on the Ascension of our Lord :* “ Who will give me the wings of a dove,

<< and I will fly and find my rest. My God, my Master, and my “ Spouse hath taken his flight above the air, and the clouds, beyond “ the highest heavens : yet my miserable soul remains sticking in the “ mire of the earth. How shall I follow him ? Most bitter necessity « compels me to mourn in my love : the desire of thy presence draws «« from me sighs and tears till i behold thy beauty, and enjoy thy sweet « countenance, left as I am, forlorn and destitute, in this abandoned « place of my exile. It is related that a certain devout person, having << visited all the places where our Blessed Redemer had performed << the principal mysteries of his holy life on earth, and had in particu- *< lar washed those with many tears which he had sanctified by the “ stages of his sacred passion, came at length to Mount Olivet, and “ there venerated the prints of his feet in the place where he last “ stood on earth. Here, prostrate in holy prayer, he found so vehe- “ ment a desire of following his dear Redeemer into his glory, that in “ the ardour of his prayer his soul was loosed from her prison of the <( body, and winged ner way to the object of her ardent sighs in the “ kingdom of his bliss. But, alas ! my miserable orphan soul has not *( the like grace of taking her flight to my sweet spouse, the true friend “ of my heart. I will, therefore, imitate the Apostles, and after my “ meditation on my Redeemer’s ascension, will keep myself with joy

» Gerson Op. T. iv. fbL 70, ed. vet.

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u within my closet, and will dwell in the spacious room of love, and “ shutting the doors of mv senses, for fear of my enemies, the Jews “ of the world, will wait the coming of my Beloved to call me to “ himself.” The pious Lewis of Granada relates the example of a devout young woman at Lisbon in 1582,* who languishing nine months in a consumption, never ceased to sigh and pray that, if it were pleasing to God, she might be united to her divine Spouse in heaven, repeat- ing often : “ Lord, when shall I come and appear, before thee, behold ** thy beauty, and enjoy thy presence ?” Our Lord revealed to her that he would call her to himself on the feast of his ascension, to which mystery and festival she had always had a singular devotion. This she foretold to her confessor and other friends, took leave of them in the morning, and in sweet aspirations of divine love and ardent desires, breathed forth her pure soul about noon on this festival.

But in aspiring after this bliss, our conscience gives us a severe check, from remorse for past sins, and continual sloth in doing penance, and preparing ourselves to meet our Redeemer and Judge. The words of the angels to the Apostles, after Christ’s ascension, ought to be to us a spur to fervour, and a subject of confusion, fear, and trembling: M Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye looking up at the

“ heavens ? This Jesus who is taken from you, shall come in like “ manner as you have seen him taken up into heaven.” Pilgrims and travellers, why do you stand and loiter ? Consider the great work you have upon your hands, take a view of the extent of all its obliga- tions. A prize of immense and eternal bliss is held out to you. The way to heaven is now open : the gate to Paradise is ready to receive you. The angels wait for you, and earnestly desire your company. But so great a crown requires due conditions. Consider the terms of the gospel, your baptismal vows, and the example of all the Saints. If nothing of all this be able to inspire you with courage and resolu- tion, at least, let threats and the terrors of the divine judgments affright you. For he who is ascended iu glory, and invites you to bliss, has proposed the terms of his invitation, and will come again to judge you and all men. How alarming are these words to the sloth- ful, and to sinners ! If we neglect the terms, we can have no share in the hope of the Saints ; ana, instead of ascending with Christ in glory, shall, at the last day, when Christ shall appear in majesty to judge the world, descend with the rebel spirits, the devils, into eternal torments. The very name of this trial penetrated the Saints with fear. And shall not we tremble at it, and always have it present to our minds ? S. Chrysostom, speaking of the ascension of Christ, checks his joy, and is seized with fear and trembling, when he calls to mind those words of the angels :b “ His second coming,” says he, “ will be “ glorious and joyful to the elect. Then we shall be caught up to “ meet him in the clouds. But by using with the Anostle the word “ We> I do not presume confidently to comprise myself in this miifl-

• Lndov. Granat. in Catechiimo. L ii. c. 27.

» S. Chrys, hom. in Ascent. T. ii. p. 453. ed. Ben.

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“ ber. I am not so void of reason as <0 he i^tiOratlt that I atri loaded 44 with heavy crimes, and if I *ere not afraid to disturb the jdy df this 44 present festival, 1 would abandon myself to mo&t bittef Weeping, at the remembrance Of my sins, ahd of those wOtda Of the arigbls.”

Let at least this just fear engage Us to weigh well the conditions of our vocation, and of the divine promises, and to labour With all the earnestness we are capable, to fulfil them. They are comprised in this short, but most sublime and comprehensive rule, That we leant the spirit, and walk in the steps of our Divine Redeemer. He declares, that it is only upon this condition that he has promised and prepared for us seats in the kingdom of his glory. 44 i dispose to yod, 44 as my Father hath disposed to me, a kingdom,” says he. (Luke xxii. 29«) This word as is as much as to say ; on the same condition or terms ; that is, by an imitation of my humility, meekness, charity, patience, spirit of poverty, and sufferings. 44 It was necessary for 44 Christ to suffer, and so to enter into his glory.” ^Luke xxiv.) And we must suffer with patience, (by whatever trials it shall please the Divine Providence to put our souls to the test,) that we may bear & resemblance to our divine prototype. This is the law of his divine pre- destination, to fail in which would be to disinherit ourselves. 44 No# “ that he ascended, what is it ; but because he also descended first into 44 the lower parts of the earth.” (Ephes. iv. 9») 44 This is the way:

44 walk ye in it.” (Isa. xxx. 24.) We must follow him here, that we inay ascend after him, and share in his glory. We must have always before our eyes the sublime dignity of our vocation, and that heavCtifir kingdom after which we aspire, and walk worthy of his grace. Wi must always remember that our Lord and Leader is gone before, and has taken possession of his glory both for himself and for ns : that we must continually follow him with the eye of faith ; that our happi- ness consists in being with him, and our main concern lies in another eountry ; therefore, the affairs of this in which we sojOurft, must by no means possess our hearts : we must continually dwell in heaven, m heart and mind. 44 Oo forth, ye daughters of Sion, and behold King 44 Solomon (t. a. the Prince of Peace) in the diadem wherewith bis 44 mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and m the day of 44 the joy of his hearts.” (Cant. iii. 1 1.) We must magnify his mercy and goodness in desiring so earnestly that we reign with him, and in having called us to a partnership in his kingdom of everlasting bliss. We certainly ought not to set any bounds to our joy, which the remembrance and hope of so great an happiness must inspire, nor to our earnestness and tears in preying for it, and in labouring to make it sure. What thanks do we owe to the Divine Mercy for not having cut us off in a state of lukewarmness and sin, and for still prolonging our lives, that we may prepare ourselves for that glory ? Our longing sighs to be possessed of it, we ought only to mitigate by acknowledging our just alarms, at seeing how much is wanting in our preparation to fit us for it. Alas 1 what remains of life can be but a moment for so great and infinitely important a task. Penetrated with a sense of the grace, of the opportunities which are still afforded us, let it be oiir reso- lution not to lose any part of it by remissness or delay. To begin by

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Ale Iftiptfy gttces, let tod b&g a abirto In the \m blessing, Wbiefr 0ttr Dithte Redeemer impacted to' Ms Apostles at his ascen- sion. It catties With it every grace, and every good gift. Jacob Would toot let go the angel till he had obtained his blessing. With much greater ardotor ought we to say to Christ : that #e will not depart from his sacred feet till we can hope to have received his universal blessing : strengthened by which we may tread in his 9teps here, tod after this short pilgrimage ascend, and be eternally with him in his glory.

Nintfj Eveatiu,

ON WHITSUNTIDE.

CHAP. I.

On the Preparation for Whitsuntide .

The teU day's which intervene between the Feast of our Lord^s Ascension and Whitsuntide ought, in imitation of the Apostles, to be employed in such exercises as may invite the Holy Ghost to visit our souls with the most abundant effusion of his gifts on the ensuing solemnity. AH the time that the disciples had enjoyed the heavenly cortverse of our Divine Lord, was a remote preparation of their souls for the descent of the Holy Ghost upon them, and they had been particularly disposed, by the daily instructions and continual example 6f Christ, and by his adorable mysteries, especially those of his Sufferings, Death, Resurrection, arid Ascension, to receive this great gift of God. Yet all this did not suffice ; but Christ left them orphans ten days, that these might be an immediate preparation of their minds for the worthy accomplishment of this mystery in them. For this end he commanded them to abide retired in the city, till they should be clothed with strength from above, by receiving the Holy Ghost. (Luke xxiv. 49.) Some degree of flight from the world, by shunning its corruption, vanity, and spirit of dissipation, is pointed OCft to all Christians, as their circumstances will allow them an opportunity, as the first part of their preparation. A spirit of se- questration, retirement, silence, and recollection, must be entertained by all who desire to be in dispositions to listen to the voice of the Holy Ghost in their interior, or to invite him into their hearts. This spirit of recollection ought to be constant, and cannot be found but in those who endeavour, as their circumstances will allow, to have certain times of retirement in their closet, or in the church, to be spent in prayer and pious meditation, or reading ; and who, during their business and. conversation with men, are careful to give some attention to the Divine Presence, by frequent and fervent secret aspirations.

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For more fervent prayer and meditation, every one ought to shut himself up some time every day, in the most secret corner, or closet, in hie apartment, in which he may shut the whole world out of his heart, to attend with all the powers of his soul on God alone. In these exercises he ought to redouble his fervour at this season. “ If “ Daniel was .prepared by solitude, to see the angel,” (Dan. vi. 10,) says St* Chrysostom/ “ much more were the disciples obliged to “ sequester themselves from the world in retirement, before they “ could receive the great gift of God.”

2ndly. In our devotions and retirement, in order to prepare our souls for the descent of the Holy Ghost, our first care must be by self-examination, confession of our sins, repeated acts of compunction, and penance, to cleanse our souls from all sin. This is the avowed enemy of the Holy Ghost, whom it every where drives away, being incompatible with his presence, or the gift of his sanctifying grace, and an object of sovereign abhorrence and abomination to him. “ Wisdom will not enter into a malicious soul, nor dwell in a body “ subject to sin. For the Holy Spirit of discipline, (the Master of “ true wisdom,) will flee from the deceitful, or hypocrite ; and shall “ not abide, when iniquity cometh in.” ( Wisd. i. 4, 5.) Bees will never approach smoke, nor places which exhale stench and corruption; their very atmosphere is mortal to those clean insects. Much more is the God of sovereign purity and sanctity expelled with outrage and insult by mortal sin. Sanctity and vice being sovereignly and infinitely contrary to each other, nothing can be equally irreconcil- able and incompatible. Venial sin, indeed, does not “ extinguish “the spirit,” (1 Thess. v. 19,) like that which is mortal, but it “ grieves the Holy Spirit of God.” (Ephes. iv. 30.) It damps the ardour of the heavenly spouse in visiting the soul, cools his embraces, and is a check to his liberality in the effusion of bis most precious gifts. Above all things, this monster must not be deliberately and habitually entertained : and the least stains which are contracted by surprise and frailty must be washed away by daily compunction and penance, and guarded against with the utmost watchfulness. Who would wait upon a person of distinction in patched or dirty clothes, or entertain nis prince in a room full of stench and filth ?

3rdly. This divine guest requires a perfect disengagement of the heart from the world, and from all inordinate attachment to creatures. Christ, speaking of the promised Paraclete, says : “ Whom the world cannot receive.” (John xiv. 17*) That is to say : It is incapable of re- ceiving him; its spirit, maxims, and life; all its dispositions and manners are a direct opposition to him and his spirit ; the one essen- tially excludes the other. “ Whoever will be a friend of this world, “ becometh an enemy of God.” (James iv. 4.) Consequently he can never hope to be favoured with the visit of this great guest, who can admit no rival in our affections. We must reserve them all for him to subdue and fill; we must love no creature with God, but what we love in him and for him ; no object in such a manner as can give us any

» S. Chrys. horn. 1. in Act. n. 5. T. ix. p. 8.

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trouble, or disquiet, or be any way contrary to the order established by God. Every irregular attachment is baneful to our souls, and in- jurious to our heavenly spouse. The least affection, which is not re- ferred to him, is an obstacle to the perfect union of our hearts with him, and obstructs the bounteous effusion of his gifts. How ought we to be terrified and awaked to fervour, by the example of the purity of heart, which was required in the Apostles before they could be disposed to receive the Holy Ghost ! No attachment of the senses could be in itself more holy or more just than that of the disciples, to the corpora], visible presence of our divine Redeemer*. Yet this was to be removed before the Holy Ghost could descend upon them to re- plenish their 'souls. “ As yet the Spirit was not given, because Jesus was “not yet glorified.” (John vii. 39; xvi.7.) His humanity was the sacred source of graces and blessings, and his presence was the greatest spiritual advantage to those who had the happiness of enjoying his blessed conversation ; but the hindrance to the descent of the Holy Ghost upon them, according to S. Austin and S. Bernard, arose from a too sensible comfort which they found in their attachment to his corporal presence. For this diverted their minds from the pure love of him, who was to be the only comfort and delight of their whole hearts. “ What !” says S. Bernard,* “ Is it possible that the pre- “ sence of Jesus Christ should be contrary to tne visit of the Com- u forter ? Could not the Holy Ghost dwell together with that flesh “ of the Saviour of men, which he himself formed in the womb “ of the holy Virgin ?” What is the meaning of those words: “ If I “ go not away, the Comforter Spirit will not come unto you.” It is as if he had said : " If the presence of my flesh is not taken from before “ your eyes, your mind which is wedded to it, will not be able to con- “ tain the plenitude of spiritual grace ; nor your heart to possess it.” S. Austin gives the following exposition of those words of Christ.:b “ It is for your advantage that this form of a slave is to be withdrawn; “ because you must not confine your hearts to a sensible affection, “ and content yourselves always to feed on this milk, and remain in “ the state of spiritual infancy. If I take not from you this light food, “ you will not feel that hunger and desire of solid nourishment ; if “ you remain carnally wedded to the flesh, you will never be capable “ of spiritual things.” S. Bernard tells us,c that “ the Apostles whilst “ they were earthly and carnal, were not able to bear the bright- “ ness of the pure light of God. Therefore, the Word showed mm- “ self to them in the flesh, as the sun hid in a cloud, or as honey “ in the comb of wax. But this cloud was of great advantage to them. “ For their mind not being yet capable of being raised to spiritual “ things, he drew their affections from the love of the world by his “ humanity, and engaged them to place them with their whole strength “ on him. But his aim was to conduct them higher : for thus he de- " sired io raise them to his spirit, that is, to the divinity itself.” S.

* S. Bern. Serm. 5. de Ascens. n. 12, 13, p. 926.

b S. Aug. Tr. 94. in Joan. n. 4. T. iii. part 2. p. 729.

* S. Bern. Serm. 6, de Ascens.

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Bernard maim mm ikw declaration of Cbriet, the fo&oanm fdlaa* turn with veapeet to ourselves# e*4 ottf own duty is thft point, « If *the Apostlee# on aefiotifii of their attuebmeut to the most holy kg* “ rnenitv of Christ# the Holy of Holies# could sot ho replenished with “ til# Half Ghost, tffl tb*t sensible gamed object wm romo ved# how “ oo foil# wedded es yen ere to m unclean body# and ful) of filthy “ desires end thoughts# protend to receive the divin# Spirit* the author <* of all purity# if you do not first endeavour to renounce yourselves, u and crucify your sensual appetites ?”a And again: ** ft being op*- “ tier* that the too strong attachment of the Apostles to the sensible “ prase### of Christ’s humanity# was an hindrance to the descent of

tbs Holy Ghost; who wid be so presumptuous and arrogant as to “ expect to receive the Comforter, so Jong as he remains voluntarily u addicted to the slavery of his sinful body ? What ! Can one whs o Is wadded to this dunghill, hope to receive die heavenly visit of the “ divine Spirit, whom the Apostles were not capable of receiving# so o tong as they were attached to the sensible comfort of the presence o of Christ’s sacred body ? Whoever peisuades himself# that this hear « venly sweetness can be infused into mire# and this divine babe into « poison# that is# that the special gifts of the Holy Ghost can be min- “ gfed with sensual delights, grievously deceives himself ; for |her# o cua be no alliance of truth with vanity# light with darkness# the « glowing fire of charity with the freezing cold of sensual affections/’* By a sensual life this Father who spoke this te his Monks, who had embraced the most austere institute# could only mean some defect of perfect fervour in doing penance, some little degree of a cowardly sparing of their body, by which they fed short of the perfection with which the duties of their state ought to have been complied with < yet this might suffice to deprive them of the special visits of the Holy Ghost. It is, therefore m indispensable duty that we prepare our hearts to receive him by the most perfect disengagement a#d purity of our ejections, We must set ourselves in good earnest to th# prac- tice of aeto-maipination# self-denial# meekness# humility, holy medi- tation# payer# and all other exercises by which we may learn perfectly te die to ourselves# disentangle our hearts from all inordinate attach- ments to sense or to creatures# and labour successfully in destroying the remains of sins the disorders of our passions# and our most secret imperfections.

4thiy. Humility is neat to penance# of which it is a necessary in- gredient# one of the principal virtues which promote this complete victory over ourselves $ and must be attended by its sister virtues, mildness# sweetness of heart# invincible patience# and peace of mind* This disposition strongly invites the divine Spirit into a soul* “ To “ whom shah I have respect, but to bun that is poor and little, end of “ a contrite spirit# and that trembleth at my words. (Isa- Jxvi. ?.) “ He dwelieth with a contrite And humble spirit.” (Isa* Irib 15.)

5thly. Concord and charity are most essential dispositions for this

* S. Bern . Serin. 3. de Amens. n. 3. $>• $17.

b S. Bern. Serm. 5. de Ascens. n. 13. p. 9£0,

vmwmm- m

f pcp, JJoly GkflSl js ibp God of union ; he love itself.

f peace and fraternal ohanJv we must prepare a dwelling for him in ppr jsoids, in wpitation of tfa 4postles and Disciples. “ These “ wore all persevering un? ruinously or wifjj npp accord ip prayer.” (Acts 1. 14; 4-cfs »• !•) Tjiey were aJJ with one accord ip one place (. f. as if tjiev were pne and «#ie tSouj. This unity draws the Spirit of God to US. He wfco Jvreais tjiis bppd, can never fie entitled to he heard in his reqpesjs, (IJatt. Jtvij. 19,) especially he who divides lpmself from the chord? of Christ, by a separation from its faith, or th.e communion of the regular successors of the Apostles, is broken ofT from the body in which alone the spirit moves, as S. Austin observes.

6thjy. Fervent prayer, and the most ardent desire of this gift of God, is the last and most excellent part of tills preparation. For this purpose chiefly, as S. Chrysostom remarks,1* the Apostles were to wait ten days after our Ford’s ascension, that feeling the weight of their miseries, and the extent of their wants, and their destitute and desolate condition, they might more earnestly desire and solicit the v&t divine Comforter. We undervalue the most precious

gUt of God, if wo do not desire and ask it with all possible ardour. The divine Spirit being infinite goodness, desires to impart himself to us with greater earnestness, than it is possible for any creature to desire him, or to conceive any idea of. But he will not, he cannot bestow lm treasures upon those who refuse to open their hearts to receive them. And it is by enflaming our desires that we enlarge the capa- city of our souls, and are fitted in proportion to receive the abun- dance of spiritual treasures. The source is infinite ; we may always increase our stock. We ought then to set no bounds to the fervour of our desires and prayers. To excite this fervour in our hearts, and to move God to the most tender compassion, we ought continually to display our wants and miseries before our most loving father, and never to cease crying out to him with the greatest earnestness we are able. “ He will give the good Spirit to them that ask him.” (Luke xi. 13.) We ought to repeat every day, at this season particularly some fervent invocations of the Divine spirit, and amidst our employ- ments often call upon him by burning aspirations : “ Come, O Father “ of the poor, distributer and master of heavenly gifts ; light of our “understanding; omnipotent physician and strength of our souls; “ divine comforter, joy, purifier and reformer of our hearts ; amiable 11 guest of our minds,” &c.

The church now unites her suffrages ; let us join ours, and enlarge our hearts, and dispose them by every duty of the necessary prepa- ration to receive the most abundant graces of this divine Spirit. “ Let us pray, my brethren,” said S. Bernard, b “ that these days of 1 entecost may be accomplished in us, the days of pardon, of joy and true jubilee ; and may the divine Spirit find us by our corpo- ral presence, also by the union of our hearts, all together in steady

• S. Chrys. Horn. 1. in Act. n. 5. p. 8. b S. Bern. Senn. 3. in Pentecosten. n. 8. p. 936. Oremns, pleantnr m nobis dies Pentccostes.

JFratres, com-

u perseverance." Our fervour in these devotions and exercises we ought to redouble on the eve, and during the octave of Pentecost, awaking our souls to give their whole attention to this great mystery, by repeating often to ourselves : “ Behold the Bridegroom cometh,

u go forth to meet him." (Mat. xxv. 6.) He cries out to us : u Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled : for my “ head is foil of dew, and the locks of my hair of the drops of the u night." (Cant. v. 2.)* This amorous invitation and complaint of the divine Spouse, we may particularly consider as addressed to us at this time. For by these words, Christ, or the Holy Ghost, express- eth the ardour of his love, and desire of communicating himself to our souls. He prevents her when she is asleep, and inattentive both to him and to her own miseries. He knocks by the external calls which he gives by his Prophets and Ministers, and by pious books, as S. Ambrose observes on this passage :b and by his interior inspirations, as the most ancient interpreters expound it with Bede, Apponius quoted by that Father in his Comments on the Book of Canticles,6 Justus, bishop of Urgel in Spain, in 530, d and Philo, bishop of Carpathus, in 401.* The Hebrew verb which is frequen- tative, implies his knocking often, which shows the earnestness of his love. Of these calls, Christ says : ( (Apoc. iii. 20),) “ Behold I

stand at the door, and knock." And : “ If any will open, I will come in, and sup with him, and he with me." (Apoc. iii. 20.) And the Holy Ghost by the Psalmist : “ Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." (Ps lxxxi. 10).) The word knocking implies the force of the call, and its impression upon the heart ; the soul opens it to him, by enlarging and warming her affections towards him. But she is so ungrateful and insensible as to shut her heart to him, and keep him out by her sloth and carnal dispositions; of which God complains in the following verse of the psalm quoted above : “ But my people 4t would not hear my voice ; and Israel hearkened not to me." The Bridegroom in the Canticles, by the loving titles which he bestows on the soul, claims her as his own in many different relations, and gives her the strongest tokens of his love by pressing her with so great warmth and earnestness, only for her own advantage, that he may sanctify and enrich her with his gifts. His former calls were not slighted without sin. Yet he does not desist, and gently re- proaches her how much he has suffered from her resistance and re- peated affronts, meant by the dew-drops and night-time. This may

* See the most devout Lewis de Ponte or Puento, in his pious Comments on the Book of Canticles, T. ii. p. 430. folio.

b S. Ambros. Serm. 1. in Ps. cxviii. p. 1107. Pulsat ad januaxn etiam quando tu dorm is : si tamen vel excitatos evigiles, vel vocatus januam tui pec- toris aperies, introibit : quod si fugias lectionem Propheticam, si domi non legas, in ecclesi& an dire nolis : “Csecitatem infers cordi too voluntaiiam ut videos non videos, audiens non audias.” c Bed. in Cant. 1. 3, c. 23.

d Comment inCant. in Ortbodoxogr. p. 1041. <fe Bibl. Patr. T. ix. p. 734.

e Philo Carpathian was consecrated Bishop of that see, in an island among the Cyclades, or rather of a town of that name in Cyprus, by St Gpiphanius, during whose journey to Rome he administered also his church of Salaxnis. See Cave Hist liter. T. i. p. 37.

WHXTSUHTtDE.

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be understood of Christ’s bloody sweat in the garden, and his other sufferings ; also alludes to the earnestness and perseverance of the divine Spirit in pursuing and besieging her with his numberless calls and graces, and to the vehemence of his desire to find admittance into her heart, being troubled as it were at her reluctance, like a man who should stand in the cold night, waiting under dew and rain at his own door. After so much ingratitude and base resistance, it is now time to labour effectually to remove all obstacles out of our hearts, and by earnest sighs and tears to open them to this heavenly guest.

Whitsun-Eve .

It was a primitive rule of discipline, that no fasting day should be commanded by the church during the fifty days of the Paschal time.0 Nevertheless, the spouse being represented as taken away from the church in the feast of the ascension, by a law of universal custom throughout the whole church, b in the close of this time of spiritual joy, the eve of Whit Sunday, has been observed at least from the fourth or fifth century, and probably long before, with a fast of precept, that fasting might accompany our prayer for the descent of the Holy Ghost. Quesnel was evidently mistaken, when he imagined the fast of this vigil to have been established at Rome about the twelfth century.0 For this fast is expressly mentioned in the Sacramentary of Pope Gelasius, published by the care of the venerable servant of God, the pious and learned Cardinal Thomasius 2 also in the Sacramentary of S. Leo published by Blanchini, the learned Italian Oratorian. In the body of the canon law it is compared with the fast of Easter-eve, in the following terms : “ The feast of Pentecost We celebrate with no less 44 joy than we have done that of Easter. We fasted then as we do 44 now, keeping the vigil (or watching of the night) on the Saturday.”4 In the Capitulars of Charlemagne is confirmed the ancient law of keeping the vigil of Whit Sunday, in the same manner as that of Easter, with fasting, the midnight mass, and the solemn administrar- tion of baptism.0

From several ancient decretals, and other monuments of ecclesiastic cal antiquity/ it is well known, that the two principal and most sacred times for the solemn administration of baptism, were the evea of Eas- ter and Whitsuntide. Hence on this day, several prophesies are read for the iustruction of the catechumens, in the different dispensa- tions of our redemption and salvation : in parish churches the font is blessed ; and the divine office is shorter during this octave, and at Easter, than at other times of the year. In the middle ages, a great wax candle was blessed, to represent the light of faith shining

* Can. Scire, Distinct. 76, Ac.

b See Gavant. Comment, in Rubric, Missal, Tit, de Die Paschm ad Flsstum 7Yi- mtatis, c Quesnel. dies. 6. in Op. T. Leonis. d Can. Nosse. Distinct. 76.

0 Capital. 1. vi. c. 188. See Merati in Gavant Part ii. T. i. p. 1216, and 1197, where he refates Qae&nel’s mistake.

' See Siridas, ep. ad Himerinm Tarracon. S. Leo ep. 4. and 80. Gelasiua ep. 1. cap. 12, Ac. See this explained at length by Vicecomes, or Visconti, 44 Da iOtibns Batpismi,” 1. i. c. 92,

[Ti. IS.

forth to tbo world; Of tbfe ■ targd seeodnt M giVei Mb emtiM guicidnt ritual* by Mfbtentw * ate tho belts w#hi fang and tremj^M* Sounded; whilst thfeprdsa “ Teal smct* Spfritns;” was tang after lift •pastil at tfaart j which prase Pope Intiocent III. first introdtMd into public use;b Dud is and to hare composed' himself.

Though the adcntbeat of the Holy Ghost br of cetifirtnaifont fc given by the Bishops in dll seasons; Pentecost has always been looked upon as the proper festival of this saeratnehtt Id the first ages; eetfc finoation hat addihtikerod with the greatest solemnity after baptism; at Easter and Whitsuntide.

The great feast of the Christian Pentecost was undoubtedly insti- tuted and celebrated by the Apostles themselves, says Pope Bene- dict XIV. -And thfi the refy atitdem authof 8f the Book of QttW- titmii trhM* I las hden attribnted to 8: Jdstin Mkrtyt; tbhftnhs by the SeMimoity ef S. IfehsMs. •• This CuMOttt df BOl kHSetthg at tdtydV « during the PagchaUltne ” Shy* hfc « is tWririfd fVbtn the AptiStfe*; “ as the bleated iretfceh^ Bishop of Ly©hs> end fitartyr, trifles hi hti “ book oh Easter; where he mentions the feast of fWtecOst, id which “we do not knhef; for this kedsod edjoys the same privilege with " 8daday.” 8: Leosays of ft :d »• Aff cathbtfrt are sensible that this “ solamidty M rimked Mtdigst thbse ttasw which cishn Ohr highest “ femm&M and deVSttOn. Nor bad dity OhO ddttBt Whit great “ kohohr h doe ts the dny which the Holy Ghost has consecrtrtdd by “ Hid nidst edeatfew nffmcfe; add the effdsfdh of his gifts.”

CHAP; If,

On the Jewish ft east of PTetks or Pentecost.

Peotioost ii t Qffetk Word Whteh 9 igdiftea thfc JffHtlh, Thfe Hint* wM anciently fcitfeit to th# Jnwfch Fteiii of Week* (Et#d. Ixxrv- 22y) became it W« CiteibfStnd #eefc§ after the Palter* that ity on the fftiath day hftm the eUtdehtfc df the month Nisattj which Was the sfeenrid day ef the Feaet df Pftssdver. (Levit. xxiii. 15, 16.) They offered at Pentecost the first-frtiit$ of the Wheat harvest, which art that time was cotopteted. (Dent. ifi. 10.) These first-fruite consisted Ih t#o Idaves ef lettetted bread bf tko assarons of meAl,a that ia, each fatf df Stt mtoofy df three pints Bf

6 Martenne, “ De antique fccclesire Disdplina in dirinig Offidia ceLebrandisu” c. 28. n. 538. ° See Vua Notfceri, T. i. Op. p. 23/ .

• See H atttf&ttftd tti fcttOceht HI. tty Sferaff, Part ». T. I p. l2i&i add Bfcfce- ffioft XIV. “ Do Foeth Chris* D.” $. 61*, <fe*.

^S^Leo Sana. 73. (de Peateooite.) ed. Qfcen. 8ftm. 57. p. 217- it. 11. eA.

« AsearoP fen/A. tlie Mfeirew nieasnre Assaron, called also Gomel* or

Omer, was the tenth part of an Ephi or Epha, the same in dry as the Bath was in liquid measures, almost the Rmnan Amphora, which n?Id about nine gallons. Some think that each family offered two such loaves of the meal of the new

Ob* IL] W BWWTOli tsa

meal. Besides which they presented at the temple seven lambs of that year, one calf and two rfcftls, tb bfi offered for a burnt-offering, two lambs for a peace-offering, and a goat for a sin-offering. ( Levit. sfiih 18# 190 Besides these Sacrifices Appcdtited for the day Of Peft- tecost, others were ordered dtfritig this festival * (Num. xxviii. 27.)

Pentecost was one of the three great festivals amongst the Jews, 60 whteh every male was obliged to appetf before the Lord at the tabernacle, atid afterward in the temple wheti it was built. Vet we do net find that it bad ae ettat* The modem Jews celebrate it during two days* which they keep as a festltal like those of the Passover, resting from all labour and business, in the same manner as on the Sabbath, ex- cept that they make fife#* dress victuals* and earry what they Wafit from obe place to another#* God himself forbade all servile work on tills festival. a Yota shall call this day most solemn arid most holy: « you shall do no servile work therein. It shall be an everlasting “ ordinance, in all your dwellings and generations*” (Levit# Xkiii. 21*) The feast was instituted* first* to give thanks to God for their land tmd its fruits, and to acknowledge bis absolute dominion over their country, ana the whole world, tneir persons atid their labours | for which they offered him the first-fruits of their harvests* Hence it is called “ the solemnity of the harvest*” (ExOd. **iiL 16,) Which began at that time : and the 11 Day of First-fruits.” (Num. xxviii. 26 ) Deut. xxvi* % 10, 13.) The festival of Pentecost was also appointed, according to the Jewish tradition* to return God thanks for the law which he gave on Mount 6inai oft this day. For this reason the Jews at Pentecost dress the Synagogueflnd places appointed for the reading of the law, and even their houses, with green boughs, roses, and other dowers, knit together in crowns and garlands* and that in great quantities* Buxtorf relates several ceremonies and practices of the Jews at Pentecost, which are a commemoration Of the giving of the law at this time. From this tradition both of ancient and modern Jews, the Fathers and other Christian writers usually assign this as a second motive of the Jewish Feast Of Pentecost tb and the Jews at this day usually call it the Feast of the Law.

• Leo of Modena* Part in. e. 4* p. 194* Bnxtorf SyMg. JtfdMe, 6. 90. p. 442.

b Modern Jew# celebrate the gi#ag of the law in their whole office on Peti- iecOst. See Lancelot Addison’s Present State of the Jews* eftwp. 19. Also Lewis of Modena, part 9. o. 4. And meet critics and taserprettre agree that the hrw Whs given to Moses on this day. Yet some pretend mat the giving of the law whs no part Of the intention or devotion of the anriettt Jewish synagogue in this festival. This m advanced by George Moeb, ' Dis Theoi. p. 931. and Prone. Gomar. “ Do Utn ao Pine Festi Pentecnstes.” Op. p. 926. Bet they predate nothing of moment to support their conjecture. And the o mrnam. tredMon agrees wen with the Scripture. The Jews kept the Passover on the I4fh of the month Nisan : arrived at Mount Sinai on the third day of the third month after their eomkg Out of Egypt. (Enod. six. 1.) Two days after which Moses received the law. This must have tamponed cm the fiftieth, day after their coming out of Egypt, the intermediate month liar, being only of twenty-nine days* The Jewish Pentecost WS# celebrated in the month sivan* eoirespending tietfly to oar May, fis Bnxtorf mentions, p. 406, on the Jewish Pentecost. See Refetafdt Dies, fie Pentecost© Jmfeorum* ChHriUttontfi 41 Gwtflta* Jew#) 1992. MrHtdd»f

296

WHITSUKTEDB.

[Te. IX.

CHAP. III.

The History of the Christian Pentecost , or an Account of the descent of the Holy Ghost .

The Christian Pentecost is celebrated seven weeks or fifty days after the feast of our Lord’s resurrection. It is one of the three principal festivals of the year, and as far transcends the Jewish Pen- tecost, as the laws of grace excels the Mosaic dispensation, and as

or, “ Delia quae circa Festum Pentecostes memorabilia sunt;” Lipsiae, 1734, reprinted in Mb “ Disquisitiones Philologies,17 p. 211. Claoswitz, “ Progr. do u Analogia Pentecostes, vet. <fe novi Testam.” Halae 1741. The Jewish Thai* mud lom Tobh. T. ii. Danzius, Program. “ De Feato Jndoico Septimanaram ab- “rogato, <fe anrrogato Feato Pentecostali Chriatianorum,” reprinted in Meusche- nius’s “ Novum Teatamentnm ex Thalmade illustratum,” p. 73 7, 786. Cremer in n Antiquitatibus Mosaico-Typicis,” T. iL p. 480. John Meyer, u De Tem- “ poribus <fe Festis Hebraeor.” c. 13. p. 287. Melchior Leydecker, w De Republ. “ Hebraeor.” 1. ix, c. 5. p. 363. Cherubihus a S. Josepho, T. iL “ Apparatus 44 Biblici,” p. 362. Lamy, Appar. Bibl. Calmet. Diet. Bibl. and 4he Interpreters, On the time of the harvest of the Jews in Palestine, see Hermani Conringii, Comment, reprinted, T. V. 44 Fasciculorum Tho. Crenii,” p. 301. All that con- cerns the Jewish Pentecost is judiciously discussed by Alphonsus Tostatns, com- monly called Abulenais, 23 Levit. Quaes t. 41. who shows that the Feast of Azymes was instituted in memory of the deliverance of the Jews from the Egyp- tian servitude ; and Pentecost in memory of the law given to Moses on Mount Sinai. Also, that on the Feast of Azymes, the first-fruits of the year being a loaf of barley, were offered in the temple, before which it was not lawful for any Jew to taste of the fruits of that year. On the Pentecost the wheat harvest being over, the last begun, were offered the first-fruits of bread made that year, in two loaves of two Assarons, or about three pints of flour each, made of leavened dough, (Levit xxiii. 17.) before which no Jew could eat or make any bread of that crop. The first sheaf of barley was gathered on the 16th of Nisan, in the morn- ing after the day of the Passover, and offered the next day with great solemnity and many ceremonies ; of which some account is given by Maimonides, in Te- medim, and Mosaphim, and others. These two offerings of the sheaf of barley at the Pasch, and the loaves of wheat at Pentecost, were made in the name of the whole Jewish nation. Besides these, every person was obliged to bring to the temple his first-fruits of wheat, barley, grapes, figs, apricocs, olives, and dates. They brought them in bands preceded by an ox appointed for sacrifice, with a crown of olives on his head, ana his horns gilded over ; and with at least one musician playing upon the flute all the way to Jerusalem. Every one, even the King, carried his own basket upon his shoulders, from the foot of the holy mountain into the court belonging to the priests in the temple, and set it down on the side of the altar. The Levites received them singing the first verses of the 29th Psalm, which in the modern Hebrew text is the 30th. The person who brought the offering repeated the words prescribed. Deut. xxvL 4, 6, <fec. See the Misnah, in the Treatise Thhtmoth and Becorim , and the ’Commentators on the Misnah, and on (Exodus xxii. 29) ; xxiii. 19. Every one is obliged to give at the least the 60th part of his fruits, but most gave the 40th part. (See Misnah, Tr. Thrumoth, c. 4. n. 3.) The first-fruits and the tenths were the most certain part of the revenue of the priests ; but the Rabbins hold that no one is obliged to pay the first-fruits, excepting in the Landof Promise. Besides these, when the Dread in every family was kneaded, a portion was set apart for the priest or Levite of the place. (Num. xv. 19), 20. S. Jerom says this portion was between the 40th and the 60th part (in cap. 46, Ezech.) Philo testifies that this law was observed by the Jews in all parts of the world (1. de Prmmiis Saeerd.) It is still practised by them in some countries. See Leo of Juda, port. ii. c. 9.

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the accomplishment of our great mysteries surpasses their types and figures. For on this great festival, we commemorate the wonderful descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles, the promulgation of the gospel, and the establishment of the church of Christ. . What wonders are comprised in the mystery of this day ! On it, the third person of the Blessed Trinity descended upon men, to bestow on them, with a boundless liberality, the most abundant effusions of his graces and mercies. On this day, our Divine Redeemer put the finishing hand to the great work which he had in view in all his mysteries. On this day, he created to himself a new people, who adore his Father in spirit and truth. On this day, God sent his Holy Spirit on earth to renew the face of the world, to form his church, and to make with his people the new alliance which he had promised by the Prophets, and which is the law of grace and love, the end and consummation of all his mercies and other mysteries in favour of man. And here we not only commemorate, with thanks- giving and praise, a mystery that is past, as in other festivals $ but which is actually renewed and accomplished in our own souls. We must first consider the wonderful manner in which it was wrought in the Apostles, for the promulgation of the law of the gospel, the establishment of Christ’s spiritual kingdom on earth, and its propa- gation through all nations.

After the ascension of our blessed Lord, the Apostles withdrew together into a house at Jerusalem, which is said to have been that of Mary, the mother of John Mark, the disciple of our Lord,* and was situate on Mount Sion.b Here they waited for the com- ing of the Holy Ghost in continual prayer, as Christ had com- manded them. (Luke xxiv. 49.) Saint Luke says they retired into an upper room, and the word which he uses in the Acts of the Apostles6 signifies the highest room in the house. The roof of the houses in Palestine being flat, the highest room was often the most decent, and the most spacious, as well as the most retired. The Jews had usually their private oratories in the upper parts of their houses, called Alijoth, for the more private exercise of their devotions. Thus Daniel had his Alijoth , (Dan. vi. 10,) which the Septuagint render his upper chamber, whether he was wont to retire to pray. Such was that wherein St. Paul preached at Troas. (Acts xx. 8.) And such probably was this where the Apostles were met together. St. Luke in his Gospel writes, (Luke xxiv. 53,) that the apostles were continually in “ the temple,” and m the Acts (Actsxi. 46,) that they were “daily abiding in the temple.” By which we are to understand, not that they bad any habitation m the temple, but that they never failed to assist at the hours of public prayer, namely, at the morning and evening sacrifice, and at the third, sixth, and ninth hours. In a like sense Christ said of him-

• See Conatit. Apoat. 1. v. c. 20. S. Leo. fep. 2. c. 1. S. Aug. de Civ. Dei, lxviii c 54. and the Author of Serin. 154, De Temp, now m App. p. W. T. ▼.

b see’ Baron, ad An. 34. n. 234. Usher, Annal. Pearson, Ac.

• vfipMOV Act* i. 13. See Act xx. 8, 9.

WBITodaxZVI*

[T*. al

self i » I Uttgllt *l#ftw id tin* Ittnjfle;" (Mai) ttU* Bbf) HMtlfb ftfe certainly Had rid duelling thet'd.*

The house and ehaitiBe# *hefe the disdpiwi were ufeinbiefi, ffr- presented the uttlvefsal fchttfch, ift Which Mode (He Hoif Ghost fc tecelted, at least by those ohly Who ate iri it by stoeeffe desirt* The Sotil which breaks ihd botid of ntllty, and divides itself ftotri the chiltch df Christ, that is front the eotnwmy of the Apostles, and their tegular successors, Is f daily broken off frdm that body in which only (he Spirit tnot'es, says a Protestant in(etpretef on (Ms passage* Unity draws the Spirit of God to us. The disciples united in faith, Hi the worship df tne same God, in the observance df the same law* and in (he same spirit of charity, besought the eternal Father through hk divine Sdtt, to send then! his Cdtnfbrter, the Holy Ghost* Fifty being the term of the Jubilee, to show that he came to gtte a (Ml pardon of all debts and sins, through the passion of Christ ; he descended on the fiftieth day after the resurrection of ouf blessed Redeemer. This was on Sunday, according td the eoamant tradi- tion of the church, b oh the great feast of the Jewish Pentecost j that

v Some imagine this rifipef room td hate been over {be Temple. That tfitffe Weln Such chamber* abote some part of the Meobd temple is eertahf. JMtpkn tells ns, that Esdras sat with the chief fathers of the people in ga opjrfr room in the teniple} but this wtfs the apartment of Johan an, the son of the high-priest ; himself a priest. Maimonides, m his book, De adificio Tempti , mention* Siiteen chambers : hot saith, they were all appointed fofr & acted things of ptofndM; Hdt eotfld podr fishermen, Gain&ahst dmdus on account Uf thOfr master, oeUWpy hi sueh numbers otoO of these chambers ? And S. Luki dearly distinguieheft the plaee df tbeir retreat from the temple, when he says (Acts iii. 1 >) that Peter and John u went up into the temple at the hour of prayer;’* afid (Acts ii. 46,) that fhe Disciples “ broke bread from bouse to house," wheil they Wetfe it least SI ID persons, too inany to lodge together in One tipper tOoWlj tut they are then Said to fiavfc continued M daily With one accord in the temple," ibid. Batoning, Jande- nius, Canisius, Loriuus, Menochios, and other judicious writers, say it Was in the house of Mary, mother of John Mark; for S. Peter, when delivered by the Angel from prison, repaired thither to the disciples ; but would not stay there, that dace of their assembly being too Well known to his enemies, (Acts nil.) The EtopreSS Helena built a Church upon the spot Where thS Holy Ghost descended Upon the Apostles, Which was afterwards rebuilt by the Queen of Sicily. See Quaresmius. 1. iv« Elucidat. Terra Sanctee , c. v. T. ii.

b This has given rise to a perplexing difficulty. Tor tbe Jewish ftohteobst Wis the fiftieth day from the second day of the Azymes, on Whieh the Sheaf of the mm crop of barley was offered, when it was lawful tor the JeWs td eat the new fruits of that rear, Us Josephus tells Us, (1* ii* A*Eqwt. c. 10.) But if Friday, on which Christ died, was the first day of Azymes or unleavened bread, and Saturday the second, the fiftieth day would not be Sunday, but SatufdAy. Soffie thertftdh imagine, that the day df the passovdr Was not the Friday on Which Christ died* hut the Saturday ; and Consequently that either tad did not eat the Paeehat totab at his last supper On Thursday evenings a* Lamy, Cahnet, and some others think ; of, according to others, that he eat it the day before the rest of the Jews, who perhaps that year followed some erroneous calculation. The latter suppo- sition seems forced. And that Christ eat the Pftseha) toihtb tie evfef&ig bfefoto he suffered, has been the most general opinion. Therefore the conjecture of Baro- nins, (ad. an. 34. n. 239.) Bellarmin, Graveson, (De Mysteriis <fe Annis Christi, p. 423.) J uenin de Sacrament . (diss. 4. qu. 2. art. 1.) Cardinal Gotti, Benedict XIV., and others, seems most probable, that when the Second day 6f Azyrites happened to be the Sabbath, as in the year of our Lord’s Crtfdftjdon. thb sickle could not bo put in the com to cut the first fruits that day, tmt dmy After the

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m tfa itofe a«y tm tMfleh ooa ha# giftm the ala far ert Mmutt Slhai, aft amt Might b« put to it by the pdbiieMloo at the hew far of amee.* But the manum* in which each was published* was ret? dif- ferent. the first beihg a law of fear* was given with “ thunders, " lightning,, and the laud sound of trumpet, (Etod. xi*. 16 j stir, lit Hob. x. 16^ And with dreadful threats or death; it was also written id tables of Stone, being bttfdensothe and heavy by the ttltlf- tuade of its preempts, and the feebleness of its observances and ele- ments t and being given to a stiff-needed people, upon whom obedi- ence whs itibre enfdreed by tnotites of tear than by those of lore. Bat the latter being the law of grace and lbte, is given by the Hbly Shdst* the author and infinite source of ibve, and is with great sweet- ness imprinted by him id the souls of men* engraven in the tables of their hearts. For this he had first taken from them their hearts of stone* shd converted them into hearts of flesh* fitted to receive the tender impressions of his love; aS he had promised by the prophets, (fesech. vrivli 46.) it is ottt duty on this festival, to beg that he will be pleased to write his holy law likewise in oar hearts by the finger of his right hand* with such great fbrce that it may never more oe Wotted out, and in a spirit of adoration, thanksgiving, and praise* tb glorify God in the Contemplation of this great mystery. The apos- tles having already chosen S. Matthias, by the divine appointment, (Acts 1. 36,) in the place of the apostate Judas* and by adopting him ttto their college* had again completed their number. And with the fast »f the disciples, especially the kinsmen of Jesus who had believed in him* with Mary bis blessed Mother, and other devout women, at least a hundred and twenty in number, (Acts l, l4.)b they continued WHb one accord in prayer, all together in one place. And on the day hf Pentecost, about the third hoar of the day, that is about nine o'clock in the morning, on Sunday, aeeordihg to tradition* on a sud- den they heard a great noise, as it were the rushing of a mighty wind, which came from Heaven, and which filled the whole house where they wens assembled together; (Acts li. 2, 3.) This sign of the coming of the Holy GhoSt, was to awake their attention. He came on a sodden,' to denote that he fospireih us by his pore tommy* and when it pteaseth him to visit us. The wind came toss Atettif from hdfttttt, bgcatrte Ms impiftttiofid time not from to* titit h thfefc hi it any p drnt to rdiftte Of tall thrn forth.

This wind represents the breathing ttf the ditine gtaee upon our soufe, H& give ftrtd preserve M them tile Spiritual life <n gWcfee For m we

elf tfrd §ahh&th, add the offering wfts tnade ik the tdtfipld <514 the CM?d dftjr df thd Atyities. it itf trtte, wffrklttg nit sacrifices religions rites in the Celhple, was never looked trpon as a vlolatbn of the Sabbath* as our blessed Lotd observes te the Jews, tfnd as Calmet sbotrs (in (Acts ii. 2).) Bnt this could not be extended to works of agriculture, as reaping, drying, and carrying in com for a consider- able part of the day.

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300 WHITSUNTIDE. [T». IX.

live and breathe by the air, and cannot live without it, so in the divine Spirit, and by his grace, we live, move, and have our being in the life of grace ; and without him we neither have nor preserve this being. If he breathe upon our souls, though they were dead in sin, he will revive them. His breathing alone can allay the heat of concupiscence, cleanse our hearts, separate the dross and what is imperfect from what is precious, and move us to fly vice, and follow virtue. The Spouse prays him thus to breathe upon the garden of her soul, that the trees of virtues which he has planted there, may push forth their sweet scented buds, and be loaded with fruit agreeable to him. f Cant. iv. 6.) The vehemence of this wind indicates the fervour with which the Holy Ghost impels to all good works, being an enemy to all luke- warmness and sluggishness m the practice of virtue, beating down all obstacles which are raised in the way, and carrying the soul with sweetness, cheerfulness and delight, and invincible courage and con- stancy through all difficulties and dangers ; at the same time con- ducting her as by the hand of a skilful pilot, secured from the rocks of indiscretion and rashness, and with great swiftness into the harbour of eternal life. The great noise of this wind shows the influence which a perfect conversion of the heart and change of life have on others, and the edification given to the world by such examples of the power of divine grace. It filled the whole house, leaving no cor- ner which it did not penetrate, because the Holy Ghost presents his gifts to all men, and in all places, and because he subdues the whole man, perfectly replenishing all his powers, scouring, transforming and filling with his spirit and graces all his faculties, appetites, and affec- tions, stamping on them all the image of the heavenly man. Thus were these signs emblems of the effects produced by the divine Spirit.

And there appeared cloven tongues, as it were, of fire, and U sat upon every one of them that were present. The Holy Ghost some- times taketh those external forms which express the wonderful effects he produceth interiorly in those who receive. In the baptism of Christ he appeared in the form of a dove, to denote the innocence and fecundity of good works, which he infuses in that holy laver. In this mystery his presence is manifested by the form of fire, because that element cleanses, lightens, . enkindles, raises up on high, unites itself to and transforms into itself that which it subdues. These effects are spiritually produced by the Holy Ghost in our souls, who consumeth the rust of sins and imperfections, enlighteneth the understanding, giving a great knowledge and relish of the mysteries of faith and max- ims of the gospel ; kindleth in the will the fire of the love of God and our neighbour, and raiseth the heart from earthly to heavenly things, so that the soul’s delight and conversation is in heaven, where she reposes by contemplation, as in her own sphere or proper place. He unites the soul to himself, so communicating to her his gifts and graces, that by the union of perfect love, and the imitation and parti- cipation of his spirit, she becometh one spirit with him. Of this fire our Lord said : “ I am come to cast fire on the earth, and what will “ I but that it be kindled 1” (Luke xii. 49*) This fire was particularly

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an emblem of the light, which the Apostles received and communi- cated to the world ; also of that zeal and fearless courage which spread itself into their hearts, and from them into others. The fire appeared in the shape of tongues, rather than in that of hearts, to show that these gifts were bestowed on the Apostles, not only in order that they might love God themselves, but also should communicate by their tongues the fire of his love to others,. Likewise, says S. Bernard, to signify that when the Holy Ghost communicateth to a soul the spirit of devotion, this is a tongue of fire which poureth forth all enflamed affections of divine love, in an unlimited diversity of acts of adoration, love, praise, thanksgiving, compunction, and every kind of homage. These tongues especially signifieth the gift of tongues, by which the apostles made themselves intelligible to men of all nations, with whom they had occasion to treat.* The diversity of the lan- guages was pointed out by the clefts in these tongues. Calmet thinks this fire was only a shining substance like fire : but most interpreters and divines understand by it true elementary fire, dividing itself into so many pointed tongues as the number was of persons present. These signs were no more than the exterior marks of the interior effects which the Holy Ghost produced in the souls upon which he miraculously descended; for “they were all replenished with the “ Holy Ghost.” This divine Spirit filled all their powers and faculties with his gifts, replenishing their understanding with his divine light, in which he discovered to them the sense of the ancient prophecies, and of all the sacred scriptures ; the mysteries and all the revealed truths of our holy faith ; also the sweetness and excess of his love and mercy, the depth of his wisdom, and the boundless extent of his power in all his wonderful dispensations towards man. They are indeed an abyss unfathomable and incomprehensible to the most perfect of all created intelligences ; but so far were they laid open to the apostles by this mystery, as was necessary to qualify them for their great function of teachers and founders of our holy faith. These sacred myste- ries, and all the hqly scriptures, this divine Spirit imprinted in such a

• By the gift of tongues, S. Augustine (Cone. 2. in Ps. 17, &c.) and most other interpreters say, the Apostles, by a supernatural infused gift, understood and spoke all different languages, at least at certain times, and as occasions required. St. Paul (1 Cor. xiv.) thanks God that he spoke the languages of all his converts. Some will have it, from verses 8, 9, 10, Acts ii. that, when they spoke in the Hebrew language, every one of their hearers understood them in his own tongue. Perhaps sometimes the one, and sometimes the other of these miracles attended their preaching, according to the exigency of circumstances, but neither seems to have been constant, for the Apostles often employed inter- preters in writing their epistles. «fec. That, at least upon exigencies, they spoke or were understood in all languages, seems not to be doubted. See S. Thomas 2da 2dae qu. 176. art. 1. and the learned Protestant critics, Joan. Chris- toph. Haremberg, Diss. De Miraculo Penticostali. T. ii. Dissertationum in loca qwedam Novi Test am. Amstel. An. 1732. Gothefr. Thilus. Diss. de Linguis Ignitis , T. ii. ib. p. 430. n. 17. who show the gift of tongues to have been very frequent amongst the first Disciples of the Apostles.

In the punishment of thepride of men at the Tower of Babel, the confusion of tongues dispersed them. The gift of tongues, in the promulgation of the new law, showed the union of all nations in the law oi grace and charity. AU tongues shall serve the Lord. (Dan, vii 14.)

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pyejj nne’f jewploy *#4 PWiicuI»r PfijPW&s- Ttp apostles mewed many gifts yrhich were not cppiflfuWitoto4 to the r«st of the disci- ples, because their function# apd Bliflistyy werq fhe PWt enW»«ne» 4 greater abundance of eflerwl gifts probably fell to tbe lof of tbe apostles than vas necessary for the blessed Virgin herself, though we cannot doubt but she surpassed all others ip the interior graces jjrhich she received in this ntystory? in proportion to her njore per- feet disposition.

To consider this mystery wjih ff^thod and order, W* W*U first speak of the outward gifts whicji tfr# Holy Ghost <co»fonred by bis descent upon the apostles, which were oecesswy in the begiiiidog of the church for its fouodation> and for the promulgation of the goepeU

f Tbe name jof grace, m its proper and strict sense, is only given to that which is inward, whether hflbitnal, called otherwise sanctifying grace , or actual, yrhich is : “A gratuitous, supernatural illumination, or inward motion, excite^ “by the Holy Gnost in a rational creature, with respect to eternal life." It es- sentially surpasses the order, exigency and power, or strength of nature, whether It enlighten# the understanding, stirs up or strengthens the will, or calls to mind, or strengthens the memory to retain suparnatoral truths, ip order to promote tot attainment of eternal supernatural bliss.

Outward grace, which is only honoured with the name of grace in ap improper and metaphorical sense, is denned : A succour, which outwardly excites p. ra- tional creature to a supernatural good or end: as the outward proposal of the divine law* preaching, miracles, the example of Christ or his saints, Ac. TJiii outward grace tends naturally t<? excite interior pi<ms m°ti°P8 in the pool; which Pelagius sopbistically called inward grace, to disguise bif here^S and impose upon the pastors of the church. It is a benefit of God, and is usually seconded by true inward graces, given, or at least offered with it. For the Holy Ghost never so fay abandons sinners as not sometimes to stand at their door, ready at least to knock by the offer of his inward call and grace, if they do pot; jby wilful obstacles, reject it. . f

The outxpqrd graces, or gratuitous, external, miraculous gifts, so much spoken pf in the mystery of the descent of the Holy Ghost, are of a different nature, and are defined “ gratuitous supernatural gifts of God, bestowed for the benefit of “ others.” Only the first part of the definition of grace agrees to these ; whence they are usually called from it alone gratuitous gifts , to give to understand that they do not come under the strict name of grace ; because not necessarily given with any particular regard for the salvation or sanctification of him who receives them, any more than all general appointments of God with respect to his ser- vants. And though God does not usually grant these gifts but to his faithful ser- vants, they do not necessarily prove or presuppose sanctity or the state of grace, (Luke x. 20). These outward gifts are enumerated by 8. Paul, (1 Cor. xii. 6), Ac. 1. The word of wisdom or extraordinary measures of the most sublime and mani- fold wisdom of God, i. e. the knowledge of the revealed mysteries of toe Gospel, with abilities to disclose the same to the Pagan world. In tins aH the apostles excelled. j2. The word of science, of knowledge, or a special ability to interpret $he mystical senses qgd Vpffed meanings of tot scriptures ; to explain toe nrftcd-

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cftl rales $f fperst virtue, aad of an holy life, i fee. 8. JteA, apt taken for the tfo^gteft} wta* k»4faf* tgpwmUWbl ewfftge mi oopMejW* i» G.ed under ejprftoj^My fomm m4 »ufemgkf Affording U> .0 toe**, it here mewis a supernatural fts$urepce? that God frill pow work such or speb a miracle by their hand*; without which antecedent impulse of the Holy Ghost to Ho a miracle, no Apostle nor other rank could undertake it, nor |o incur the guilt of presumption, and drpv cento mpt npon the doctrine of Christ 4. The giftof b*rimg,or curing <&d*wper$ in a suj^rftfttofftJ TOpner: fo Tte of miracle?, whether of

sjlencing or pasting out devils, or of raising the aeaa, qt doing other things in the name of God, above the power of nature at least in the manner of perform- ing them. 6. The gift of prophecy , or the foreknowledge of and foretelling things to come. To this is reduced the gift of speaking by inspiration of things present, understanding deep and difficult points ip God's word or works, #f penetrating the secrets of others hearts: also the gift of prising God by inspired hymns and psalms. 7. The gift of discerning of spirits , t. e . either of discerning whether men, pretending to the divine spirit, were endowed with his gifts, were impostors and fanatics : or a supernatural sagacity to discern between the subtle impulses of satan, or of the passions, and divine inspi- rations. Or a supernatural prudence, in discerning persons best qualified for soph or such oraers, administrations, offices, or functions in the church. 8. The gift of tongues , or an ability to speak divers kinds of languages unlearned and untaught. 9 . The gift of interpreting those languages ; for some could speak them who could not interpret them ; others could interpret them who coula not speak them. ! Cgf. xiv. 9, 10, Ac. S. Paul chides the Corinthians for setting too great a value on these outward gifts, or taking a complacency and pride in them ; and bids them esteem most or prefer amongst the outward gifts, those which are most advantageous and edifying to the church, not those which appeared most wonderful, 1 Cor. xpr. 1 1, Ac. He shows that the Holy Ghost is the author both of these operations, and also of the different administra- tions in his church. For he appoints some apostles f immediately sent by Christ, to lay the foundation, and have the chiefest care of the churches. 2. Others prophets, persons who taught and preached by immediate inspiration. 8. Others he fa or deacons. 4. Others rulers and spiritual guides. These are not only sailed and .constituted by the Holy Ghost, but also fitted for their particular functions by his special graces. And the Apostle gives the Corinthians to understand, that the functions and graces of the lowest officers in the Hierarchy were more useful and bettor than the most extraordinary of outward gifts. And amongst the latter he places the gift of tongues in the last place, 1 Cor. x;v. 30. to abate their high conceit of themselves in regard of this gift, which was of least use of all in the chprch. He bids them most earnestly to covet the best gifts, those of inward grace, in which there is a for greater excellency and spiritual advantage, portico? laxly ip ftte love of God and our neighbour, which is for more noble than the whole collection of outward gifts, however extraordinary, supernatural, and mira- culous, msA which abides for ever, accompanying us in heaven, where, from ft smell spark, it will be improved into a seraphic flame, and will never foil. 1 ,Cor, xii. 31 ; xih. 1, 2, Ac.; xiv. 10. Ac.

“JFhese gifts were not confined to the descent of the Holy .Ghost at Pentecost ; but were communicated to others, who afterwards believed in Christ. By the ministration or supply of the Spirit , (Phil. i. 19, Ac.) are meant the means by which toe Holy Gnost was communicated in the church, especially the sacra- ments of naptism and confirmation, or the imposition of hands. And the gift of the Holy Ghost, so often mentioned to be received by these sacraments, (Acts 11. 38, Ac.; and sometimes by prayer or other means, (Acts iv. 91,) comprehends both the inward habitual graces, signed on all who received worthily those sa- craments ; and also the outward miraculous graces, often bestowed op some, not all upon .each, but some on one, some on another ; as, the gilt of tongues on one ; of healing on another ; of prophecying on ,a tford, Ac.

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parts indeed were more fully and clearly manifested to them in sub- sequent visions, chiefly before their dispersion to preach the Gospel to the whole world. Thus the vocation of the Gentiles to the church could not but be known to the apostles from the ancient prophecies, (Gen. xii. 1 ; xlix. 10; (Ps. ii. 8); xliv. 17; (Isa. ii. 2), 3; xxxv. 1, 2, 3; xlix. 1, 2; liv. 1 ; lx. 3,) and the distinct predictions of our divine Re- deemer; (Mat. ii. 1 ; xxiv. 14 ; xxviii. 19 ; (John x. 16) ;) the sense of which was opened to them by the descent of the Holy Ghost. Yet this was to be more fully discovered to them, at least to satisfy the Jewish converts, who from inveterate prepossessions were inclined to take offence thereat. Hence the obligation of preaching the Gospel to them, though it was first to be addressed to the Jews, (Act. xi. 1 ; xxvi. 1,) was confirmed by the vision of S. Peter, and the miracu- lous gifts conferred upon them. (Acts x. 11, 17, 34.) The same is to be said of the abrogation of the ceremonial precepts of the Jew- ish law, (Acts xv. 3 (Gal. ii. 2) (Ps. xxxix.7) (Isa. i. 11) ; Mai. i. 11,) though well known to the apostles themselves from the day of Pen- tecost, and clearly spoken of by the prophets and by Christ. (Mat. xxi. 43 ; xxiii. 38.) The revelations made to St. John the Evangelist in the island of Patmos, concerning the future state of the church, the end of the world, and the eternal kingdom of the glory of the elect, unfold many great mysteries of the Christian faith. But in the apostles was closed and sealed all Catholic revelation of articles of faith, whidh was made to the whole church. Private reve- lations made to other prophets since their time, such as are meant by the gift of prophecy, frequent in the primitive church, a and such as are mentioned by St. Ignatius of Antioch, St. Cyprian, and others, no way belong to Catholic revelation, which is entirely apostolical : the other may rather be called historical ; and its truth and authen- ticity are to be weighed by the genet*al rules of prudence, like other points of history which depend upon the grounds of human veracity,

world, according to those words of Christ : “ He that believeth in me, ont of his u belly shall flow rivers of living waters,” (John vii. 38). Where the belly de- noteth the heart or inward parts, in which the inward graces are received. And “ This he said of the Spirit, which those who believe in him should receive,” See. But the outward gifts did not always accompany the sacraments in every one who received them ; and continued to be frequent in the church only for a short time, till the Gospel was sufficiently confirmed. For this evidence was sufficient to stop the mouths of the incredulous of all succeeding ages. So common were these miraculous powers in the beginning of the church, that St. Paul employs a considerable part of his first epistle to the Corinthians to regulate the use of them. See (1 Cor. iv. 7) ; xii. 10, 28, 30 ; xiv. 2. He likewise mentions them, (Rom. xii. 3), 6, 7. S. Ignatius, from St. Paul, (1 Cor. xii. 4,) and other fathers, call them Charismata , or the gratuitous gifts, as by a name then commonly used and understood in that sense. They are mentioned by the fathers, during the three first centuries, as then subsisting and common in the church. See S. Ire- nseus, 1. ii. c. 32. <fe 57. 1. v. c. 6. p. 299. and quoted by Eusebius, Hist. 1. v. c. 7. S. Justin (Dial. p. 315. & Apol. 2. vol. 1.) Tertullian (Scorpiac, p. 712.) S. Hilary (in (Ps. lxiv. 10), 12.) the Apostolical Constitutions (1. viii. c. 1.) even in the close of the third century by Eusebius (in Ps. lxvi.) <fec. Toward the end of the fourth century, S. Chrysostom says they had ceased long before, (in (2 Thess. iii. 6).) which S. Austin and others also testify.

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not any divine authority* It must in the first place be examined by the fundamental rule of our holy apostolical faith, and the authority of the Catholic church. This is nrst to be consulted in its expla- nations of the Catholic doctrine, delivered in holy scriptures, and explained in its general councils, and universally received dogmatical tradition ; and in the second place, in the judgment of its chief pas- tors, who, though they are not by any divine promise infallibly uner- ring in decisions jelating to particular facts which are no part of the Catholic revelation or apostolical tradition, are nevertheless the guides and judges in the church, with jurisdiction to direct and ordain, by wholesome spiritual laws, what ought to be shunned as dangerous to the souls of the faithful ; and what may be embraced without danger. This revelation, made to the apostles, we must ne- cessarily understand of all things which concern faith and obedience to God, or the practice of virtue ; of which Christ says s “ He shall teach you all things, (John xiv. 18,) whence the Holy Ghost is called: The Spirit and Guide of Truth* (John xvi. 13, 14, 16.) A second privilege which the apostles received on this day, was a con- stant inspiration, or at least special and extraordinary assistance of the Holy Ghost, which directed them in all divine truth, and preserved them from all danger of erroneous doctrine in all they preached or committed to writing. Hence, St. Paul every where speaks of their doctrine as the word of God, and oracles dictated by the Holy Ghost* That they were divinely inspired in preaching the Gospel, is manifest from the Acts of the Apostles, as bisnop Warourton himself observes** It is certain, that the apostles delivered the divine doctrine which the Holy Ghost had revealed to them, by preaching, long before any of them committed any part to writing, and that they every where spoke as men inspired by toe Holy Ghost, and as hisorgans*b Their words were the commands of God. (1 Cor* xiv. 37.) Their sermons to the people are clearly dictated by his inspiration, (Acts ii* 14, 36 ; iii. 12, &c.) which is farther manifest from the change wrought by them, the amazement with which all listened to them, and the won- derful light and discernment with which they quoted and applied the most difficult and obscure passages of scripture, especially ignorant and unlearned as they were* (Acts iv. 13.) They appeared on a sudden enlightened with a clear Knowledge of heavenly things, and filled with love, courage, and holy zeal for the divine honour* What profound mysteries did they learn, when the noon-day sun of Heaven shot his brightest rays into their breasts ? What sublime truths did they unfold ? What joy did they express in announcing to men the great tidings of our redemption and eternal salvation ? With what glowing ardour did they show they were inflamed and transformed by the divine Spirit which filled their souls ? They received so sublime a knowledge of the goodness and other perfections of God, displayed in his adorable mysteries, and of the sanctity of his law ; ana. were so filled with bis love, that it was not in their power to contain those

• Warbnrton. Disc, concerning the Holy Spirit, T. i. p. 30.

* See Jaquelot, Traite de 1’ Inspiration de Lines Sacres, part 2, ch* 9* d* 359*

969 wmm. [T*. IX.

gs&t geereta in the!p b?e§st§ 9 but with voice# of thunder tb py pm- cUjmed then# to the whole world. Though eharjty ayd humility madq them subject to alj, #nd a}] to aU, they preached Christ with such un- daypted zea} ayd courage, that, if they had bad a thousand Myea^ they wyyld baye sacrificed them ail with ioy for him whom they had abandoned a few days before. They were inflamed with so ardent a desire that all men should know apd love GqcHb infinite goodness, that tbeye yras not one of them who did not desire with 8t* Paul tq become an anathema for his brethren. Nor were their desires fruit* less or m yain. The divine flame with which theiy breasts burnt, pommynicatqd itself to others, and spread to the boundaries of the earth. God, who before was scarcely known out of Judea, and even there ill served, was through them honoured and adored over the whple known world. Their discourses, says St. Chrysostom, were pot stiyhed^ pqmpous, or elegant $ but they were tender, vehement, full of fjre? proper to inspire thy hearts of those who heard them with compunction, and inflame them with the fire of the Holy Ghost. They preached the wonders of Godx and so powerfully, breathing in pverv word that sacred fame which filled their souls, that St. Fete? by h is first sermpn converted 9Q00 among the Jews, the very day he had received the Holy Ghost, (Acts ii. 41,j and by a second, 3000. (Acta iv, 40 Jn Cornells the centurion, (Acts x. 11, 34,) he re- ceived into t^e church the first fruits of the Gentiles, showing that the Holy Ghost offers hjs gifts tq all, and Invites all to mercy, wtthouf eqceftfyn of persons. And in a short time twelve mean fishermen, or artificers, had filled every part of the world with Christiana. And with what kind of Christian?? Saints, so closely united by the bands of divine charity^ $s to, be aU one heart and one sotd, (Acts li. 44 0 as Christ had prayed for his followers, that (hey might be one, aabe apd his father are onq, (Jfohy xvii. 1 j,)and as the prophets had fqretqld. (Ps. l^vH. f ; Isa, xi. 65 hv. 25 ; (Jer. xxxii. 39)%) How perfectly grounded mu^t they have been ip meekness, patience, hq- r^lf^^ charity, and an entire, crycifixfon of their hearts to the world and meHLs^es, or their passions, among whom so, perfect § spirit of union could reW ? l^ie prophet Isaiah expressed the greater as- tomsnmeqfc at this nyracle qf divine grace, a$ the Holy Ghost thus associated together with sheep and lambs, the Hons, beam, wolves, and tiger^ furious wild beasts, who had just before torn m pieces the innocent Lamb, of God and destroyed, their fellow-creatures 5 insg* tf$ble as wolves by avarice 5 furious as tigers with yqger, revenge, aqd iealoVOT \ crafty 3s beai^, by (bssimulation and hypocrisy; as lions, haygnty and qqcontrolable, by ambition qnd pri(je* Now, so pen* feet^ were, these passions extinguished iy their breasts, that they hyow 99 other ambition than to serve, and be subject to all in Christ ; had 99 desi^o of inches but such $s were spiritual; and very so per- fectly di^Ogaged from tiiq things of this world, 3s to sqU 1$ their estates, andlay tlie price at the reet of the Apostles, to be distributed in common, and amongst the poor, (Acts ii. 44 ;) no one looking ygpn wh$jt he poswss^d belonging to himself more than to his neignhbours, (Acts iv. 32, 34 :) theyreserving not to themsehres so

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itftidi as the choice, of dTreetion of the cEstvJbutiee, to renounce theur own will together with the world The cold worda mine and tkins^ the source of aff those evils by which charity is extinguished among men, were unknown to them.* Their disengagement wan entire! because they were altogether heavenly* in their hearts or desires, and their employments were also heavenly for “ they continued in the doctrine of tho apostles* ui the rnrqmu^wii die breaking of bread, and in prayers.” (Acts Cv« 2.) By these three means, by which the soul chiefly receives her nourishment of divine grace, they earnestly laboured continually ho maintain and Strengthen in their hearts the life of grace, to improve the gifts of Gods and receive more and more abundantly the fullness of bis divine spirit* It was erdinarihr in these exercises that the Holy Ghost descended upon tho faithful, (Acts. iv. 31 ; viii. 17 » x. 44 &<v) either at prayes, or whilst UtaaposUes preached to them, or laid hands on them, (chiefly in the sacraments.} Therefore, did the primitive Christians perseves* assiduously in these great means of graee, especially in prayers The branches, or functions of this exercise, are reckoned up by the epoetin petitions* supplications, thanksgivings, praise, hyvws, psalms* and spiritual canticles, (1 Tim. ii. X; Epk v. 19,) in which, we am commanded to employ ourselves “ in all things, lifting up pure hand* heaveiu with a serene mind.” (I Tin* u. &) Can we weude* Unt nich wdplca were filled with the spirit of Gock and formed a church of martyrs and saints? Our souls pine under a spiritual!** mine, because we refuse the spiritual nourishment so liberally ps*. rided for us by our all merciful God, in neglecting to listen to, ec meditate on his word* make use diligently of the sacraments, and converse with God by holj prayer. Most admirable and edifying wet the heroic virtue of the primitive Christians, to which they were* happily formed upon the model, and by the lessons and example of the apostles. These first great pastors and founder* of tho church, under Christ* were prepared fen their high fonctions, not only by tho revelation of the dime truths of our holy frith 3 but also by the meat rerfoct spirit of all virtues, with which the Holy Ghost replenished them. The mortification of Jesus Christ, which they carried inthehr bodies; (l Cor. ix. 26 ; 2 Cor. hr. 10 ; (Gal. vi. 17); 1 Tim* vL 8 * 9 Cor. vu 10; Phil. iiL 8,) their entire indifference to the things of this world* and sovereign contempt of its riches, pleasures, and vans* ties, (2 Cor. xi. 27,) raised their souls above all earthly things 5 sudd was their disinterestedness, that they were afraid of being a burthen to any one in the least thing. (1 Threw, ii. 9«) Christ came poor and destitute of earthly goods, to bestow upon us the immense treasures of his heavenly graces, seeking nothing in return but humiliations; torments, and death ; he gave all things at his own exceeding cost, pouring forth for us even the last drop of his precious blood. He gave this severe charge to lus apostles, and other ministers; “ Freely “> you have received ; give freely or gratis? (Matt, x* 8.) And he forbid* the least view to temporal interest in any function of his se*

• S, Chrys, Horn, de Philogonio, T. L p. 395.

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cred ministry, under the grievous pain and guilt of sacrilege and simony. Animated by this spirit, the apostles ran over the most re- mote countries, in quest of ignominies, sufferings, and death ; for the spiritual riches of salvation which they imparted to men, desirous to give, not to receive. (Acts xx. 33, 34, 35, &c.) Not less averse from honours than from ricnes, they placed their glory in their infirmities, disgraces and contempt, and in being made the outcast, and as it were the off-scouring of the whole world, (2 Cor. xii. 5 (1 Tim. i. 13), 15 ; (Gal. i. 13) (1 Cor. xv. 9) (Eph. iii. 8) (Acts xiv. 13) (2 Cor. iv. 4) (1 Cor. ix. 27) (Gal. ii. 2) ; iv. 14 ; (1 Cor. iv.7)>) perfectly indifferent and dead to any desire of the esteem of men ; (1 Cor. iv. 2 (Gal. i. 10),) not only ready, but rejoicing to suffer all afflictions, torments, and death in its most frightful forms. (Acts xxi. 13 (2 Cor. i. 8); vii. 5 ; (2 Cor. xi. 23) (Rom. viii. 3), 5, 13 ; (2 Cor. xii. 10).) What shall we say of their continual watchings in prayer, (Rom. i. 9 ; 1 Thess. L 2,) of their assiduous divine contemplation, by which their conver- sation was always in heaven, (Phil. iii. 20,) of their ardent love of their divine master, by which they seemed to know only him cruci- fied, (1 Cor. ii. 2 (Phil. i. 21) (Rom viii. 35),) of their insatiable zeal for the divine honour, and charity for the salvation of their brethren, (Rom. ix. 2 (Gal. iv. 19) ; Thess. ii. 7 ; (Phil. ii. 3), 8,) and of their in- vincible meekness and heroic patience and constancy, (1 Cor. iv. 12,) which no fatigues and labours, no dungeons, no stripes, no torments or threats could damp or abate ? Animated with this spirit, they an- nounced with tongues of fire, the mysteries of the divine mercy, the recompences of virtue, the riches of eternity, the baseness and folly of sin, and the emptiness and vanity of the imaginary greatness and pleasures of the world. With such divine force they delivered the great truths of salvation, as to drive the powers of hell be- fore them wherever they came ; and to beat down, not only the reign of idolatry and superstition ; but also the spirit of pride, covetous- ness, and sensual pleasure, of which they found the world every where full. Men, who heard them, in all parts, were struck with astonish- ment, and acknowledged the divinity and power of the Holy Spirit of which they were the organs. Divine Spirit, open my eyes, inflame my heart, move my tongue, that I may see and feel the greatness of thy mysteries, and the sanctity of thy truths, and may speak of thee with such holy zeal that thy divinity may be glorified, sinners con- verted to thee, and all men edified, and inflamed with thy divine love!

CHAP. IV.

On the Promulgation of the New Law of Grace in the Descent of the Holy Ghost .

Holt ought to be the instruments whom God raised up to be the ministers of his new covenant of grace and love ; in wnich his di- vine Son made man, and the Redeemer of mankind, now is the great and Holy Mediator, and the apostles, first pastors and teachers of a

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law most perfect and most holy. Almighty God, immediately after the sin of our first parent, entered into a most gracious and merciful covenant with him, by which he admitted him to repentance and par- don, through a Redeemer to come, of whom he then gave him the most solemn promise. (Gen. ii. 15.) God then, instituted a reli- gious worship by which he was pleased to appoint, that men in that rude state after their fall, should honour him, and engage him to show them mercy, and to conduct them to his eternal salvation. This is the Patriarchal religion, which consisted in the faith, of supernatural infused knowledge, and firm belief of certain capital revealed truths, chiefly of the supernatural end of immortal glory, for which man was created ; of certain means by which he was to attain to this endb and of a Messias or Redeemer to come, through whom alone he could arrive at this happiness. The means of salvation revealed and given to Adam, consisted in repentance ; to which God mercifully pro- mised pardon through the merits of Christ to come ; and in certain sa- crifices which consisted in the fruits of the earth, and bloody sacrifices of beasts, all figures of Christ’s bloody sacrifice, by which man was to be redeemed, and of the great sacrifice of the eucharist in the new law : also in a priesthood appointed by God, which was executed by the head or eldest sop of each family. Hence, kings were originally high priests, as not only the holy scriptures, but also profane anti- quity often mentions. This Patriarchal religion sufficed to conduct men to salvation through Christ, till his coming, even after God’s covenant with Abraham, and his written law given to the Jews ; ex- cept as to those of the more happy posterity of Abraham, by his son Isaac, who by a special obligation fell under the particular covenant of that patriarch, and afterwards that of Moses ; except also those pro- selytes, who by voluntary devotion were adopted into the Jewish co- venant. Thus Job, the Idumean, and many others among the Gen?- tiles, served the true God, observing the Patriarchal religion, with faith in a Redeemer to corner which was the ground of that superna- tural hope and love which worked salvation. This first state of reli- gion was very imperfect, exceedingly confined, and weak both in the means which it furnished, and in the knowledge which it gave of supernatural things. In it, however, the light of faith was successively enlarged by new revelations made to several patriarchs, by which the qualities of the Messias, and the ends of his coming were more and more distinctly explained. God renewed this alliance with Noah after the flood ; to whom he farther promised, that the world should never again be drowned by waters : and he gave him certain precepts, the Jews say seven laws, called from this patriarch the Noachick pre- cepts :* some of which were positive precepts ; others belonged

• No mention is made of these precepts given to Noah and his sons, either in the scripture, or in ancient writers, as Onkelos, Josephus, Philo, Origen, or St. Je- rom. cut it is certain, that the Jews would suffer no stranger to dwell in their

# country who did not engage to observe them ; and that the observation of these

* precepts, which in the posterity of Noah comprised all mankind, obliged all tions, and was alone sufficient to save all those who were not of the posterity of Abraham, and did not belong to his particular covenant, as it was confirmed and enlarged in the Jewish dispensation. Those strangers who kept the precepts of

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to the Jaw of nature in point* i® which part of mankind an nra* bafae that tim* to have made some kind of gecueral defection bom the church of Go<La The Noachkk precepts are thus laid down bjr the ftabbfos ; The first forbade idolatry, superstition, and sacrilege. The

the sons of Noah, the Jews called Prmctftetuf the gut*. Thou tfe fayreMbfag circumcision subjected themselves to the whole Mosaic law, they styled /Vniefefef if Justice* The rfoacbick precepts are reduced to abstinence from blood and nor mean meats. Abstinence from blood was severe]/ enjoined the Jews. (Lor. x5, J4, 11 ; Dent. xfi. S3, Si.) The reason of which seems to bare been hist, because find xeearrad to hhnenlf. in token of lus dominion over life, (hoUcndof snhnlw which was poared out in sacrifices on the altar. Secondly, God by this would Curb violence, or aU outrages and cruelty to which man is inclined. Gratia* endeavours to show (in Acts xv.) that nations which feed much on blood, contract 0 means and feme temper. This law of abstinence from blood was given by God te Noah, when te allowod man to oat the flesh of Bring creature*. (Gen. lx. 4.) Hence no Jew could eat * creature that was strangled, or that died of itsdt because the blood bad not been drained from the flesh. And Will the Jews have their own butchers, who, by cutting the throat from ear. to ear, or laying wide Open the huge vessels, drain the whole mass of blood as much as possible ; for all can never be drawn off. This Neachiek law of abstinence from blood mast haw been required of the Proselytes of the gate. How then did God alkw the Jews to give an animal that died of itself and which they could not eat, to an house* hold proselyte, or sell it to a stranger ? (Dent. xiv. 21.) The reason of the diife- naaae between the Jew and Proselyte appears from what follows, that the Jews Were to be an holy people to God, and therefore greater sanctity was required In them, and it was teroidaeu lor them to eat blood, either oat of theaaiieal, orim the flesh : but the first under pain of death, (Levit xvii, 14,) the latter under penalty «f a temporary pollution fill evening, to be then expiated by a washing of their bodies and clothes. (Lev. xvii. 15.) For blood in the flesh was not sacred, as not being that blood which was preserved for making atonement for sin, and for a recognition of God being the supreme Lord of life. And secondly, when not eaten under the form of blood, but in an indiscriminate mixture with the flesh in a dsad Carcase, it was not so great an incentive to cruelty ; so that the main reasons of the prohibition ceasing, the law either did not bind the proselyte or stranger, or only subjected him to a ceremonial defilement without the guilt of transgression, in case he observed the law of the ablation. (Levit. xvii. 16.) This abstinence from blood was enjoined to Noah, when God first allowed man animal food. (Gen. xii. 4.)

• The distinction of clean and unclean animals was prescribed or rather con- firmed by God to Noah and his children, for it seems to nave been .anterior to him, and probably from Adam, for the use of sacrifices ; for It is mentioned before the flood. (Gen. vii. 2.) It seems most probable that men only began to eat the flesh of animals after the flood ; when God restrained this grant to dean animate, thpt the use of animal food, which then became more expedient to man whose frame was weakened, term of life abridged, and vegetable food by the changes wrought in the earth by the deluge much impaired, might not be too general ; and the flesh of unclean animals Is generally such as creates bad Juieea in the human body. See the interpreters in Levit. xx. 24, 26. 26.

These two precepts of abstaining from blood and from unclean creatines, derived their obligation not from the law of nature, bnt from God’s positive pre- cept, which was only temporary, whatever Hr. Delany pretends as to the for- mer. See his “ Revelation examined with candour,” Vol. ii. Diss. i. p. i., and his * Defence of the doctrine of abstinence from blood,” where he attempts to prove that sntmd food, especially blood, disposes men to savage cruelty and fierce anger ; and abstinence from such food to meekness. Of this we seem to have an in- stance in the Banyans and some other Indians, who most rigorously abstain from aU animal diet : out their character seems rather soilness than meekness, if they sure so revengsfol in contriving the ruin of an enemy by artful stratagems as tbs/ jworsprasstttocU flee Grose1* Voyage to the East Me*

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second, blasphemy curses, and rash oaths. The third, adultery* and all impurity. The fourth, murder, arid effusion of blood, 'f he fifth, theft, cheating, and lying. The sixth, the eating any part of &n animal still alive, which Arnobius makes a reproach in the Pagans.4 the seventh commanded obedience to parents and princes.^

Wicked men from brutish vice, fell into so deplorable a blindness, as to forsake entirely the assemblies of the faithful, and the worship of God, and soon transferred to creatures the sovereign hohorir due to him alone, adoring and offering sacrifices to the stars, and other hea- venly bodies ; afterward to imaginary beings, to the ghosts of dead men, generally most infamous for their crimes ; also to stocks and stones, first brute, afterward Carved, and deified by a kind of supersti- tious consecration, or at least deputation ; to brute beasts, to plants and shrubs ; to ideal beings, into which they metamorphosed the human passions, and eveu diseases* By the rapid progress of idolatry, a great part of mankind became involved in ttiis monstrous revolt against God. Yet the true Patriarchal religion was maintained down from Noah amongst the good, principally of the seed of Sem, of which arose Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation, in his posterity, by bis 9on Isaac, and his grandson Jacob, or Israel. To Abraham God unfolded his promises of a Messias, more elearly than he had Irivealed him before, informing him that he should be born of his seed by Isaac, and that in him all nations should be blessed. With Abraham he made a new covenant, in Order to reserve to himself his posterity by Isaac, to be his peculiar people, and for the mark or sign, he gave them the law of circumcision.’ To this people, then increased to a numerous nation, divided into twelve, of rather thir- teen tribes, (if we comprise the tribe of Levi, whieh had not a separate portion or part of territory in the land of Promise, and if we divide the children of Joseph into the two tribes of Ephraim and Manasses, as was done in that partition,) four hundred years after the vocation of Abraham, he gave a written law by the ministry of Moses. This is called the written covenant, the Mosaic dispensation, of the old bun It was a much fuller and more complete system of religion, interwoven with the laws of the state or republic, ahd consisted first, of a written Confirmation of the precepts of the law* of nature, reduced under ten heads, engraved on two tables of stone : secondly, of various distinct prophesies of a Messias to come, arid a more perfect and happy law of grace to succeed it: thirdly, of a great number of ceremonial precepts of sacrifices, sacraments, and ritual observances, all typical, represent- ing, and pointing to, the promised Redeemer and his holy law to come. The old law, though fitted by the admirable wisdom of divine Providence to the circumstances of the people and state of things for which it was appointed, was many ways imperfect. First, because it was only given ris a pedagogue to instruct men in the knowledge of their spiritual miseries, to conduct them by longing sighs to, and pre- pare them for the graces of the new ldw. Its most saered rites and

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sacrifices were only shadows, types, and figures. The new, therefore, as far surpasses it as the reality of the most sublime mysteries excells its figure.

Secondly, faith in those who preceded Christ, though clear and certain as to a redemption to come, was very obscure as to the man- ner and illustrious circumstances of this greatest of all mysteries. The very prophesies in which they are most clearly pointed out, receive their chief illustrations from their accomplishment. But how nobly are the wonderful mysteries of the divine goodness and mercy in our redemption, displayed before our eyes in the noonday light of the gospel? Here the divine truth, and wisdom, and mercy, and goodness, and justice, are united with the most admirable harmony, and shine forth with the most ravishing lustre in a manner worthyaa God, because incomprehensible to creatures. Here, we behold in rap- tures of astonishment, the unparalleled indications of the divine love, the dreadful enormity of sin, and our unutterable happiness in being delivered from the powers of hell, and brought into fellowship and communion with God ; and our weak nature raised in Christ even to a participation of his divine and holy nature. What incomparable advantages for virtue and spiritual comfort have we .in the divine doc- trine and example of our blessed Lord, especially in the contemplation of his adorable sufferings and glorious mysteries ? What powerful motives to righteousness have we in the more full and clear revelation of future rewards and punishments ? How comf9rtable and sensible must be our hope of an assured resurrection from the dead, built on the certainty of Christ’s resurrection ? How lively our faith of a future judgment, to be executed by that same Jesus who once came down to be our Saviour! How awakening our fear at the dreadful denunciations of endless torments in hell! In consideration of all which S. Paul calls the Gospel of Christ, “ the power of God unto “ salvation to every one that believeth.” (Rom. i. 16.) Again, what a subect of holy joy ! What a happiness it is to see our God and merciful Saviour is come, and to enjoy the glorious day of his redemption, after which all the prophets and saints of the old law sighed with so much ardour ! Abraham saw this bright day only in spirit, and he was trans- ported with joy. (John viii. 56.) Holy Simeon beheld only the first appearance of this Saviour in the world, and thought his happiness so complete as to desire then to die in peace. (Luke ii. 29*)

Thirdly, so numerous were the ritual precepts and observances in the old law, as to be an heavy burden and an occasion of frequent transgressions, though proper to restrain a gross people from the con- tagion of idolatry ; and to represent by their multiplicity the admira- ble and manifold virtue of Christ’s sacred passion and sacrifice : whereas the precepts and sacraments in the new law of grace are few in number, and easy to be observed. (Gal. iii. 19 (Isa. i. 2).)

Fourthly, the sacrifices and other means of grace which the old law afforded, were weak, and chiefly adapted to point out others to come. Helps indeed they were, and such as sufficed to lead men to God ; but were feeble, and rather showing our wounds than applying power- ful remedies to them. (Rom. vii. 8, 12.) In the new law we have in

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the holy sacrifice, the most perfect homage that can be paid to God ; in the sacraments the most powerful remedies, strengthened, and means of all grace : in the other holy observances the strongest helps of piety and religion, adapted to all our necessities and purposes. The Apostle, and his faithful interpreter in the mystery of divine grace, tne great doctor S. Austin, when in many places they set forth the imperfectness of the old, are not to be understood as if it was not good, and a means of true virtue, and through faith in a Redeemer to come, a path to salvation and divine love ; but so weak in itself, as to be rather a witness and reproacher of transgressions than an effica- cious remedy. But faith and love gave strength and grace under it though they belonged rather to the new law, even when given before it.

Fifthly, the Jewish sacraments and rites had no force or virtue but what they derived from an actual faith in a Redeemer to come, and were of themselves “ weak and needy elements/’ (Gal. iv. 9«) Those of the new law apply to our souls the price of Christ’s adora- ble blood, which they contain, to cleanse and sanctify us. “ The “ former commandment is verily set aside for the weakness and un- “ profitableness thereof. For tne law brought nothing to perfection “ but a bringing in of a better hope, by which we draw nigh to God.” (Heb. vii. 18, 19; viii. 9, 10; (Jer. vi. 20) (Amos v. 21) ; Mich, vi.; Gal.iv.9-) *

Sixthly, the Mosaic dispensation was a law of fear aud servitude, suited to the carnal state of the Jews. (Gal. iv. 24 & 31 ; (Rom. vii. 4), 5, 6 ; (Rom. viii. 2), 3, 4, 5, 6.)* For though it suggested motives, and laid a command of divine love, which was always the first and greatest commandment, and always essentially necessary for salvation ; yet that law principally displayed motives of fear, and was much taken up in deterring men from sin by the dread of temporal punish- ments. The gospel is called the law of grace and love, because it furnishes the most powerful means of the strongest and most plentiful graces ; because it presents and chiefly dwells upon the most cogent motives of divine love in all the great mysteries which are the object of its faith and devotion. And this love is the fruit of all its graces, the end to which all its exercises are chiefly directed. What an in- dignity is it under this law of love to be unacquainted with its spirit? By the same conduct by which God made the law of fear the intro- duction to that of love, does he proceed in planting the kingdom of his grace in a soul, which he usually shakes and disposes by fear, to conduct her afterward to his pure and holy love. (Rom. viii. 15 ; see (Gal. iv. 3), 4, 5, 6.) “ You have not received the spirit of bondage “ again in fear ; but you have received the spirit of adoption of sons, “ whereby we cry, Abba, Father.”

Seventhly, according to the different characteristics of the old and new law, so was the manner of their promulgation different. The first was given in thunder and lightning, with other signs of terror with which the Jews were so struck as to pray that God might not

■ S. Aug. de Spiritu 4k Litter*, 1. de Pecc. Origin, c. 26,

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speak to them bet they should die, Hoi being able toksar hie vtdoiy or stand his presence* Neither was thfe Jewish law given by God is person, but by an angel who spoke in Us natne. (Acts vii. 35 \ (Heb. xii. 21).) It was also delivered to Moses, materially engraved on ta- bles of stone. But the new law waft written by the Holy Ghost in hearts of flesh s the inward njpirit and feiish of the law, in which con- sists the virtue and obedience of the hearty was Infused by die sweet unction of grace and love. “ Behold the days Come*” saith the Lord, “ and I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel, and with “ the house of Juda. Not according to the covenant which I made “ with their fathers f but this shall be the covenant which I shall “ make with the house of Israel after these days i I Will give mj law “ in their bowels, and will write it in their hearts : and I will be their “ God, and they shall be my people.” (Jer. xxi. 31, S3) 2 Co t* ill. 6.)

Eighthly, the Jewish law was a temporary dispensation, and the forerunner of the new, and its abrogation, by Us accomplishment in the latter, was foretold by all the prophets. (Isa. i. 1 1 \ & sfequ. xliH. 18, 19, 20 ; (Jer. vii. 13) ; mi. 31 $ Esedh. xxxiv. 10) DaA. ah. 11 £ Mai. i. 10, ll| i b% ii» 11, 18 s Matt. *i. 13) Luke xvh 1 6 s John in 21) Gab iii. 24, 23) (Heb. vii. 6); ii. 6, 7y 8, 10, 11, 12, 13.) The new law was to succeed# (Deut. xviii. 15, 16) IsS.iL 2, 3$ Mich. iv. 1 % (Isa. lxii. 33) ; Jer. xi« 19, 20 ; xviii. 31 $ xxri. 31 ; Efcech. fcxxvi* 80, 26 ; (Matt. iv. 4), 5; (Matt. xxvi. 28) (John iv. 23) ; Heb. vifl. 6 ; si). 13,) and to be eternal. (Ps. ii. 6, 7 J xliv* 7 ; Ixxii. 1, dt sequ. § Isa. bu7 f ». 1, & sequ. | Datn ii. 44) (Dan. vii. 14)$ Mich. it. 7 ; Luke i. 33) John xiy. lo| 1 Cc ft. xt. 25) Matt. xti. 18) (2 Cor. iii. 11).)

Ninthly, this law of grace is a spiritual kw, a law of lote, On* graved in the hearts of met) by the Holy Ghost. (Ifta. xxxii. 15 1 xliv. 3 1 lix. 21 $ Ezech. xXxvi. 23, 27 | xxxix* 29 ) (Joel ii. 20), 29 ) Zacb. xii. 10 ; (John vii. 37) ) xiv. 16 ) (Acts i. 6) $ Rom. n 6 1 (1 Cor. ii. 12), 13$ (Gal. iii. 5), 14$ Eph. i. 13) l John iv. 13) (Gal. iv. 6) (1 Cor. iii. 16).) A law propagated oteT all the Cations of the earth. It wis miraculous, not only in the Wonderful mystery of the descent of the Hedy Ghost for its promulgation, but also in the stupen- dous manner of its propagation. Christ foretold, when "All appear- ances were against him, that his law and spiritual kingdom should soon be propagated to the farthest extremity of the earth. IJe com- pared the preaching of the gospel, in its Weakest beginning, to a little heaven, which being hid in the dough, spreads through the whole mass, and changes its nature by imparting its own qualities. Also to a grain of mustard seed, which, from the least of ml seeds, grows to each a height as to surpass aA other shrubs. (Matt. xHi. 82.) This in- credible success depended open, mid arose from his death, (John xii. 24, 31,) which seemed of all things the ftneet opposite to sO great a design. By the repridwrtaon of the Jews and the Vocation of the Gen- tiles, so often and so dourly predicted by the prophets, and by Christ fchmel£ was tills mystery forwarded. The instruments chosen by God, for this great design of eonvertfng the world, were such as ten- der the work more astonishing : men, who by their low condition and natural pumttaidingty, Whom be compile# to ftkoep in the midst of

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valves, seemed mmt unfit far kying the foundation of such a stmo- ture. Tet these he endued with an intrepidity, which no torments could subdue, nor death intimidate. To these ne promised an invin- cible strength, a celestial power, and a victory over the whole world. And he assured them that they should conquer by their patience, by being put to death, and torn to pieces by the wolves as so many sheep. (Acts i. 8.) Men, who by the obscurity of their birth, and want of letters and education, were accustomed to tremble before men in power, he commands to preach the most sublime and unheard of mys- teries before the kings of the earth. And men, who were ignorant of the first rudiments of human learning, and little versed even in the knowledge of religion, and whose understanding seemed unequal to such great truths, much less capable of uttering them, he endued with a wisdom which all their enemies could not contradict. (Matt. x. 1 8.) How eajnr does it seem for the wise men of the world to have startled (hem with their objections, puzaled them with their sophisms, or cast such a mist before their eyes as must have disconcerted them ? They preached a God made man, crucified by his own peoplo, and rejected by their whole nation ; and valued themselves on no other know- ledge than that of their crucified Master. Yet thev confuted, tri- umphed over, and reduced to silence the doctors of the Jewish law, and orators and philosophers of the Gentiles.

By instuments and means, in themselves so weak, unequal and dis-

^4.101^6 were tho predictions of Christ, relative to the success gospel, and the propagation of his spiritual kingdom, (Matt. xxviiL 18 ; (Mark xvi. 15) (Luke xxiv. 46) (Acts i.8)> 42,) speedily and most wonderfully accomplished. The persecutions raised against the disciples of Christ, served only to hasten this great work. If those who were come from every part to celebrate the Pentecost at Jerusalem, and heard in their native languages the apostles pub- lishing the doctrine and resurrection of Christ, (Acts ii. 1 1,) at their return spread forth the news of these wonders; the persecutions raised by the priests gave a more speedy occasion to the disciples of carrying the gospel into all nations. Philip the deacon being for cot l to quit Jerusalem, preached with surprising success in Samaria. (Ads xiiL 4.) Others, dispersed by the same storm, went into Phoenicia, Syria, and Cyprus, and founded the numerous church at Antioch. The neighbouring nations having, within the space of twelve years, 'been enlightened with the faith, the apostles, dividing the whole world amongst them, and assigning to each a share of kingdoms for the principal theatre of their labours, that none might bo neglected, earned the light of faith into all parts. (Acts iv. 19 (Rom. xv. 17) ; x. 18 ; Pa. xu. 4 ; (Col. i. 6); 1 Pet. i. 1 ; v. 13.) About the begjnnirc of the reign of Antoninus Pius, little more than 100 years after Christb death, S. Justin martyr tells Trypho, the most learned man amongst the Jews : u There is no race of men, whether Greeks or Barbarians, * or of whatever other denomination, whether of the Hamoxobii “ (Scythians near the Palus Mentis) who live in covered carta; or “ Nomades (certain Scythians both in Asia and Europe) who use no

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“ houses ; or Scenites (in Arabia and Africa) who dwell in tents, fol- “ lowing their cattle, amongst whom prayers and offerings are not “ put up, through the name of the crucified Jesus.”* Tertulliau soon after tells the Homans :b “ We are but of yesterday, and we have “ overspread your empire ; your cities, your islands, your forts, “ towns, and assemblies ; your very armies, wards, companies, tribes, “ palace, senate, and forum, swarm with Christians. We have left “ nothing but your temples to yourselves.” And in his book against the Jews he says, that “ Territories of the Britons, which were inac- “ cessible to the Romans, were subject to Christ and that Chris- tians were to be met with in the various tribes of the Getulians and Moors, in all parts of Spain and Gaul, and amongst the Sarmacians, Daci, Germans, and Scythians.0

The progress of the gospel was the more wonderful, as its doctrine is most sublime, incomprehensible to the human understanding, and contrary to the passions, and the received maxims and prejudices of the world ; and as it was only established by triumphing over the com- bined opposition both of the princes, and of the learned and wise men, amongst both the Jews and Gentiles. Whoever attentively considers these circumstances, must acknowledge, that it is one of the most wonderful and evident of miracles, that. the world has believed the gospel. Whence S. Austin says : “ Whoever still asks for miracles “ before he will be induced to believe the gospel, is himself a prodigy ** of incredulity, who will not believe sucn a doctrine which he sees “ the whole world has been compelled by clear conviction to be- “ lieve.”d The evidences, indeed, of this divine revelation were dis- played by the miraculous powers which were, as it were, the creden- tials of Heaven ; by the conformity with, and the accomplishment of the ancient prophecies ; by the heroic sanctity of its teachers ; by the constancy of its martyrs ; by the sublimity and excellence of its mo- rality ;• and its doctrine on the mysteries aud attributes of the Deity, and his dispensations towards man. The internal evidence of this revelation, arising from the coincidence of the holiness and moral purity of all its precepts, and the adorable sublimity of its awful mys- teries, is farther confirmed by the most cogent external evidences, derived from the miracles mentioned in the old and new Testament, the genuineness and accomplishment of the prophecies contained therein, and the holy moral characters of Christ, the apostles and prophets, the heroic constancy of so many martyrs, and the angelical sanctity of so many others, many of them persons enriched with the greatest natural, moral, and all acquired endowments. The bright- ness of the sublime truths of revealed religion will shine forth with greater advantage, if placed in contrast with the defective systems of philosophers. If we take a view of these, we shall see the imperfect-

* S. Justin. Dial. n. 1. 7. p. 210, 211. ed. Ben. b Apologet c. 37. p. 30.

* Tert. 1. contra Judcos , c. 7. p. 189. See to the same purpose, S. Cyprian, 1. de Unit . Ec$l. Grig. 1. iv. in Ezech. S. Siren. 1. i. c. 3. p. 23, <fcc.

d S. Aug. 1. xxii. de Civ. c. 8. T. vii. p. 663. See Bourd&krae, Serin, in Dom. 6. post Epiph. T. ix. p. 229. and especially 8. Chrysostom, Horn. 7 A 4. in 1 Cor. fee. Racine, Poeme surla Religion, c. iv, v. 437. 9 Racine, ib. ch. v. v. 369.

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ness of human reason in the search of many necessary truths, and the necessity of divine revelation, for our direction in the present de- praved state of human nature ; and that without religion there is no true wisdom. Of human philosophy in these matters a very wise man said : “ I have tried all tnings in wisdom. I have said, I will be wise, “ and it departed farther from me”* fEccles. vii. 24. See Wisd. vii. 27.) Many heathen philosophers tnought they had attained to wisdom by the sole strength of reason; which dangerous per- suasion alone sufficed to lead them into the most extravagant errors. What contradictions do we not meet with in their doctrines ! What gross mistakes, even about the divinity itself, and the sovereign good ! What prejudices ! To how many vices did they give the name of virtues? How many crimes did they canonize? Great part of the stoical philosophy is a rant of pride, and their constancy of the wise man is the very quintessence of that vice. Aristotle's mag- nanimity,1’ and Celsus’s generosity,6 are compounds of the same pride. The maxim that “ a wise man is self sufficient,” is derived from So- crates and Plato. Epictetus himself allowed a man to be proud of the conquest of any vice. The foul vices of drunkenness and most shame- ful immodesties are pleaded for, and authorised by the most eminent philosophers, Socrates, Plato, Seneca, &c.d Had these men the knowledge of true virtue ? Do not their extravagances evince the truth of what God himself has declared : “ I will destroy the wis- “ dom of the wise ; and the prudence of the prudent I will reject. “ Where is the wise ? Where is the scribe ? Where is the disputer “ of this world ? ” (1 Cor. i. 19, 20.) “ The wisdom of this world “ is foolishness with God. For it is written: I will catch the wise in their own craftiness.” (1 Cor. iii. 19.) If in many we admire great ex- amples of zeal for justice, contempt of riches and pleasures, temperance in prosperity, patience in adversity, generosity, courage, disinterested- ness, and the like ; these were often rather shadows and phantoms, which dazzled and imposed upon the eyes of men, than real vir- tues. For springing two often from, or, at least, being tainted with pride and vain-glory, they were infected with the poison of their origin, as waters which come from a poisonous spring, retain their mortal quality through whatever delightful channels or groves they may pass. We are then obliged to confess the incompa- rable advantages and absolute necessity of divine revelation, not only to teach us the great mysteries 'of our redemption, and ap- ply to our souls the remedies of our justification, and means of salva- tion ; but even to direct us safely in all the paths of moral virtue. Our reason, in our present state, may be compared to a weak glim- mering light in a dark night, which may rather suffice to show a traveller that he is wandering out of the road, than to direct him in the right way. If too confidently followed, and if relied on in things beyond its sphere, it easily leads astray. Even in many points, m

* See Hawarden Church of Christ showed, and Bossnet, Instr. Past, stir I’Eglise.

b Arist ad Nicom. 1. iii. e. 5. 41. iv. c. 7, 8. See L'Esprit, la Faussete des Vertus hmnaines, T. ii. o. 14, 15. cOrig. contr. Cels. 1. i. p. 47.

d See Bp. Cumberland on the Law of Nature, by Maxwell, Introd. $. 11, IS, 4c, p. 52, do. Also Theodoiet, de Cur. Gnec. Affect.

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which it is given to be a guide, it Is often eclipsed! by the passions; and becomes Gable to errors. God is the sovereign reason who can- not err. His word & the life of our souls ; it both, enlightens the mind and regulates the affections mid appetites of the heart This true wisdom we find and possess in holy religion. How admirable k the harmony of the great mysteries which it teaches? How adorable the fight of its most important and most sublime truths ? How com- plete the store-house of the most powerful means of our justification and sanctification* and of glorifying God by the tender of our sacri- fices and affections ?

We are ravished with astonishment when we take a view of the spiritual beauty, incomparable advantages, and high prerogatives of the church of Christ ; its mysteries, sacrifice, and sacraments; the eminent virtue of so many saints, who in every age have adorned the doctrine of the Gospel, by the purity and holiness of their lives ; its universality * its perpetuity, (John xv. 4; x. 16;xviL 20* 21 ; Eph» iv. 4* 5 ; R'om.xiL 5 ; (Acts xiii.48); Mat. xxviii. 19; (Mark xvi. 16) (1 Cor. xil. 27).) It is the house of God, figured by Noah's ark* out of which no one is saved. Whoever attains to justification and salvation must be united to it, at Iea6t in desire ; must be a member of it in his heart at least. We eannot be united to Christ but by being united to his church ; if we divide and separate from the church, we are broken off from Christ, as a branch is from the vine* (Acts xi. 24,) and whoever come to him are added and belong to bia church. (Acts ii. 47.) It is the mystical body of Christ, whose love for us is so great, that he counteth not himself perfect without us who are his members. Therefore the church is also called Christ. (I Cots xii. 12.) In it he presides as head* for ever communicating to the faithful, as to his mystical members, the special influx of his gifts and graces, by the ministry he has established, the mysteries, he hax wrought, the means 'he has instituted, and other channels he has. appointed. For in his church are possessed and dispensed all the treasures of his grace and mercy, lit is the “ tower of David* built ** with bulwarks; a thousand bucklers hang upon it* all the armour of “ valiant men.” (Cant. iv. 4.) It is exposed to many trials hut never can he overcome ; being ever triumphant over both persecution and heresy. It is the pillar and ground of truths and this in regard of men; for this ground has for its foundation the corner-stone* who is Christ* This title is given to the church* because God’s truth abides no whom else in the world ; neither is it to be sought for any where hutin the church. Every where else is downright darkness, lies, errors, impostures* superstitions,, the spirit of giddiness and. confusion, and alt manner of corruptions. The church is founded by and on Christ* is subject to Christ, is evev governed by Christ, and directed and assisted by the Holy Ghost/ It is the mother of the saints* always, bringing forth

* God's- spirit and God’s ^arises* am* nnriairfftqdly, intilliMfr and w* are assort 4 by Christ that his spirit assist* and timet* his eharohiato aU tntfh, to the end of the world. Foe though men are fallible,, yet, the church* ofoiah it' gear posed of men* infallibly teoote* and date* te dinner traits teaooo the body of its pastors are assisted and directed by th* Half Ghent*** disofcargmf tin* rite of teaching it all nations. This infallibility of the church is derived from the

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children fo QoA and training them up by the word of God, continually peached in H, by the example of good men and the practise of an virtues by the holy sacraments, sacrifices, and public and private prayer. It is the spouse of Christ, set fbrth with every ornament of grace and virtue ; cleansed, sanctified, glorious, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing ; hut holy and without blemish, nourished and cherished by the Lord. (Cant vf. 3» 8; viih 65 h 13, 16; iv. 7; Eph, v. 23, 26, 37, 29.) The church is the mother of us all, the sister of the hea- venly Jerusalem* (Ps. lxxxvi. 7 ; xllv. 16.) It is the temple of the hying God on earth, in which he is adored, served, and glorified, by the uninterrupted homage of sacrifice, obedience, praise, love, and all virtues* It is the eternal spring of the waters of life, which run in a strong stream from Libanus, (Cant. Iv. 15,) and which become in him who drinketh thereof a fountain of water springing up into eternal Hte. t (John iv. 14) ; vii. 39.)

Christ began to form his church, during his sacred ministry here on earth, when he assembled his disciples, and instructed them with hfe own mouth. Fut the descent of tne Holy Ghost was the last act, by which he both revealed and promulged Us whole law : ho infused, as It were, a soul Into that his mystical body, and endowed it with a vigorous principle of lift) and action. From this time, its rulers, ministers, and officers, being completely commissioned and qualified by tho miraculous effoslon of the Holy Ghost, set themselves to exercise all their respective functions, ai\d exert their powers in governing and propagating the spiritual kingdom of Christ, which was tnep perfectly settled and established* The church, therefore, on tWs day* keeps Its own festival, celebrates, as it were, its own nati- vity, All the feasts of the saints, whom we honour throughout the year, gbiue but with borrowed rays from this day*fc glory, and derive «!} their graces and virtues from the mystery which we honour on tbfe solemnity* To it we stand indebted for their heavenly, pure, and sublime doctrine, for the admirable humility, zeal, and sanctity of their lives J for the miraculous powers so often displayed in them, and for the heroic fortitude exerted by so many in their martyrdoms, and under the sharpest trials. To the same we owe all the spiritual privileges, and advantages which we enjoy in the church, ana those ubi<?h we expect in the eternal kingdom of God*s glory.

CHAP. V.

Qm 4fe fhtnHs continwdl# produced in ihe Sotds of ike Faithfid t# tho inmdhlo descent tho Hoi# Ghost upon them*

T*ni feast of tho Christian Pentecost is distinguished by this singular privilege above all other festivals 0/ our holy religion, that, whereas

infolHbffity of GodV Spirit, not from men j and is grounded on tte assurance of God's nocvrikiff word aad prendses. (Matt. xxriii. 90; Jo hm me* 1ft, IT ; 1* 1ft, 1ft; Math Ufa lftt ftpl* i, * 1 iih ifr? 1 Ce* vtU; Hebr.mii.lO Vkft But* Qfowfc guide* the 'km of the pasters of his chureh into hia troth, all ages pot by continual successive inspiration*, bat by (Erecting them

Msalt-wfee and aft- powerful protection, preserving hx them me sacred deposit of his Apostolic revelation pore and unvaried.

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on other solemnities we give praise and thanks for mysteries past, and which no longer subsist but in their fruit or effects, here we com- memorate a great mystery, which is renewed in the church, and in the souls of the faithful in it, to the end of the world. The Holy Ghost indeed, no more descends by an immanent action of his divine person, as he did on the Apostles; the promulgation of the gospel was then made by his revelation of its holy doctrine to the Apostles ; and the foundation of the church was then laid, always to endure under his guidance and protection. These were mysteries which only attended his first descent. Also the outward prodigies, and sensible representations of the wind, and cloven tongues o? fire, by which the Holy Ghost manifested his presence on that extraordinary occasion, and which were expressive of its energy, and effects, and signs, most suitable and necessary for that time, are not since renewed. Neither are the outward gifts of miracles, prophecy, and tongues, then often bestowed, some on one, others on another, and necessary for the confirmation of the faith in its first propagation, any longer ordinarily conferred by this divine Spirit upon those to whom he now communicates himself. These are mysteries which are, in general, past, to which we stand indebted for the spiritual advantages which we enjoy in the church, and for which we owe the tribute of our constant thanksgiving and praise. But though the Holy Ghost descends no longer visibly , as he did on the Apostles at Pentecost, when he manifested his presence by sensible emblems, he still descends invi- sibly upon our souls. And though he communicates not to us the outward graces of the miraculous powers which were given for the benefit of others and of the church, not of those who received them, he no less imparts himself to us in his interior most inestimable graces, and invisible spiritual gifts, than he did to his Apostles, if we open our hearts to receive them. Being by his immensity every where present to us with the Father and Son, he, with them, pours upon us his most precious interior gifts, which are peculiarly ascribed to him, on account of the analogy which they bear to his personal property, by which he is the fountain of grace itself, the eternal subsisting love of the Father and the Son. This divine guest is no less promised to us than to the first disciples. Christ gave him to abide with his church, and in all his true members for ever . (John xiv. 6.) He was solicitous, and prayed for all that ever were to be- lieve in him. (John xvii. 20.) The Apostles conferred the Holy Spirit on others in the same manner they had themselves received him. (Acts viii. 17 ; x. 44.) He descended on the Samaritan, and on the Gentile converts, no less than upon the Jewish : “ They have u received the Holy Ghost like us,” (Acts x. 47,) said St. Peter. The sacred fountain was opened at Pentecost on the Apostles, but continues still to flow. Though the outward prodigies which attended this mystery at the season of its first eruption, when it issued forth from the divine source to replenish the Apostles, are not now exhi- bited to strike our eyes, yet we know that the divine Spirit still de- scends upon all the true disciples of Christ with the same bounteous efflux of grace to the end of the world; according to Christ’s most

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solemn promises. Before he left his dear disciples to return to his Father, in the tender bowels of compassion, he assured them, and us with them, that he would not leave us destitute as orphans, With- out a father ; but that he would send his Holy Spirit to supply his ? place as the Comforter, and to be always with us. “ I will not leave you u orphans; but will give you another Comforter,” says he. (John xiv. 18.) Sometimes he tells us, that he will send him; at other times, that his Father will send him, because the Holy Ghost pro- ceeds, and consequently has his divine mission, both from the Father and the Son, as one principle, by their infinite love. If Christ says :

“ Whom I shall send you from the Father.” (John xv. 26,) he also declares : l* Whom the Father will send in my name ;” (John xiv. 26 ;) and “ I will ask the Father for you, and he will give you ano- u ther Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever.” (John xiv. 16.) By his merits and prayers he moved the Father to send him, and as one principle of the Holy Ghost with the Father, was himself also the author of his mission.

How precious is the gift of this divine Spirit which Christ has pro- mised us 1 In him is supplied to us what we have lost by Christ with- drawing from us his visible corporal presence. Nay, more than this ; it was necessary and advantageous that Christ should leave us, in order that we might be enriched with the treasures, and comforted and strengthened by the continual presence of his Holy Spirit. “ It is “ expedient for you,” says he, “that I should go. For unless I go,

“ the Comforter will not come to you.” (John xvi. 7.) Christ has paid our ransom : but the Holy Ghost must apply the fruit of his merits and satisfaction to our souls, and put the finishing hand to our sanctification. He is the spiritual light of our understandings : he purifies and inflames our hearts, or affections : he is the sanctifier of our souls : our spiritual life and strength : our Comforter, and our Advocate ; for the name of Paraclete signifies both ; and he fills the innermost corners of our hearts with his sweetest heavenly joy, and with the unction of his holy consolation and love. He is said to pray in us, by forming in our hearts that spirit of prayer with unutterable groans and sighs, (Rom. viii. 26,) which will always be heard. He is called, by excellence, the gift of God, because he bestows on our souls every spiritual good gift ; every grace which carries all virtues to the most heroic degree of perfection. Hence, Christ speaking of the Spirit whom the Faithful were to receive, said : “ That out of their “ bosom rivers of living water should issue.” (John vii. 39*) This is in the soul of every one of the elect, “ a source of water, springing “ to eternal life.” (John iv. 4.) It is “ the most clear river of living “ water, transparent as crystal, issuing from the throne of God, and “ the Lamb,” which waten the heavenly Jerusalem, and gives fruit- fulness to the tree of life, to produce new fruit every month, and im- parts to the leaves the power of healing nations, (Apoc. xxii. 1,) or all the affections of the heart.

The primary gift of the Holy Ghost in our souls is habitual Cha- rity, or sanctifying Grace, which is infused chiefly by baptism and penance, and increased by all the other sacraments, and by all other

Ml iiiwwpw, [0*. IX*

mm gtedfo and afterdate of virtue* Ufa pifimnni pin fcteMrte« Ihi Bid from all mortal stn, clothes hn, n it were, whb & spiritual brightness, or beauty, by which die k acceptable to God* Us adopted child, entitled through hk merciful promise to the inheiiUeee Of Ids glory* This is the mark and hedge of the children of God, the Sign of the presence of the Holy Ghost, making bis abode m them by tins giftv By sanctifying grant he k said to n md* in them ; yet be does not reign In them, unlem he moreover subdues all their affec- tions and powers to hk holy will* Aks ! how few even among* the disciple® of Ghrkt, nownwiayu, understand whajt k meant by the Holy Ghost in this sense, or by the reign of bis grace and lore established hi the heart? When he descended on the disciples at Pentecost, they all were filled with him, or received hk plenitude, though with a variety in hk gifts, according to every one's exigencies, State, and ftrtiCtions ; the Apostles, to found end govern the church, and to carry the gospel over ail nations: all, to lead a pure and perfect life, every one according to his state and vocation, and by their esalu- pfo to bear testimony to Jesus Qiikb How amiable Wes thk inun- dation ( Hew desirable thk pleatitwde of graces! HoW few shall we find now filled with the Holy Ghost ? We find every where an infinite number Adi of the world, Aill of earthly desires fed of their paadons, m of themselves* But where shall we find marks of the reign of -the H<dy Ghost In a Christian heart ? Of the fimt converts Of the Apestle®, it k Said * «* Grace was great in alb” (Acts* tv. 33.) Ho# hew wfeah Is it in all ? « The Holy Gho* is, I bops, given to « all to saltation" Said €t. Bernard to hk Monks t* *hut not to a

* degree of fervour.” To thk Spirit, the greater part, even amongst those who profess themselves followers of Christ, are strangers* They rather discover that they are governed by the spirit of tbs wnrid, which is the dedarfed enemy to that of God, and which cannot eam- prehrtad, much less receive it « The sensual man doss net perarive

* the tilings which are of God%* (i Cer. it. 14.) Wane wa to put the question to innumerable ChtMmist * Hava ye iwemvod the Holy

* Gbetft?* tiiey would be almost obliged to answer with those at Rpheste, who had only received tbs baptism of Jehu tho Baptist: w We have net even heard whether there k a Holy Ghost*” (Acts nix. K.) Per In the wottd, «c*neety any oat. knows that (hare k any ether spirit than that of the world. Scarcely any one can foe found in thatirerien of spiritual darkness, who has cither knowledge or iwlkh of the Spirit of God, or hk interior gifts* of a Spirit full of God, whfcfc lores, seeks, and desires him alone, undertakes nothing but in the cWre view of hk holy will $ which feels no joy bat in tho hope of Ms mere goods, or hi the taste of hk spiritual comforts, or in the interest of his love* which desires Vo servo ovary one for hk sake, excuses and panlens all, so form duty allows, without giving counte- nance to evil; embraces all men in its atfsetions, upon tho motions of sincere charity, friends and enemies, domtetiss and strangers : a gpirit of uetfcct tikeugagetneut foam the world, and contempt of ite Mm

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riches and honours, by which the spul is raised above all earthjy things : a spirit of mortification and penance, which suffers no inclina- tion of the flesh to reign in the heart : a spirit of humility, rejoicing in contempt : a spirit of patience, resignation, courage* and fortitude : a spirit of recollection and prayer : a spirit of the Jove of the Cross apd suffering : a spirit of fervour and zeal, always active, always ardent ; in a word, such a spirit as animated the Apostles, after the iioly Ghost had shed his beams upon them. In the change which he wrought in them, we shall discern the true characters of this divine Spirit, by which we may examine our own hearts. They reeeiyed by his descent a spirit of disengagement, and clearness of heart, a spirit of heavenly knowledge and fight, a spirit of sanctity and charity, and a spirit of strength.

The Apostles, before the descent of the Holy Ghost upon them, had long enjoyed the happiness of being instructed in the school of virtue by Cbnst himself; and formed by his example, they had left all things to follow him ; were free from all gross passions and v^ces, and re- markable for their moral probity, piety, and ordinary virtue : but they were still subject to many little motiops of sacred spiritual pas- sions, even envy and ambition. They disputed for pre-eminence s were sometimes too ardent, too bitter in their zeal : men subject to p. thousand weaknesses and habitual imperfectiops, wedded to earthly things, and blended by the prejudices of many false maxims of the world and secret passions. Hence the ambition of the two sons of Zebedce, to sit the one at his right hand, and the other at his lew, to have the highest share in his power and honour, when he should be placed in the throne in £he temporal kingdom, which they expected the Messiah would establish. Hence the frequent disputes for prece- dence among the disciples, which they renewed on the very eve of his passion. Hence the despondency of the two discipjes going to Ej»- maus, in their despair after his crucifixion of seeing tne kingdom of Israel restored by him in its ancient glory. Hence the question they pot to him, eyen after his rest, ruction, whether the time was then come for him to re-establish the ruins of the Jewish state# fin vain did the Son of God, in order to undeceive them, and cure their bli^d passions* repeat to them, (bat his kingdom was not of this world ; that it was very different from that of the great ones of the earth ; that to obtain tfoe highest rar& in it, they must here choose the lowest places ; that humility and contempt are the only path to greatness in it. Their heart was still rebellious against bis divine instructions, and their mind blinded by the dark clouds of passions, they continued still infatuated by the spirit of the world* and the prepossession of its prevailing false maxims, founded in the passions of men. Far from answering their chi- merical expectations, he always exposed the vanity of then* pretensions ; but for the cure of their inveterate disease and blindness, promised to send them a master from heaven, who should w ithdraw their hearts from earthly things, and give them a relish of true spiritual goods. He told them, tfiat they should be baptized in the Holy Ghost after not many days, (Acta i. 5;) which baptism of (ire was to consume and destroy their earthly affections, and fill them with aa esteem, love, and

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desire of only heavenly goods. This disengagement of the heart a the first perfect grace of the Holy Ghost, by which he introduces a soul into the possession of his greatest spiritual treasures. So long as the passions of secret pride, ambition, vanity, covetousness, or plea- sure, hold any degree of empire in the heart, the Holy Ghost can never establish his reign in it ; so incompatible is the service of two masters. The world must be entirely renounced and banished, before God can take absolute possession. To offer to make any division, or composition, is highly to undervalue and affront the divine grace. Ana to pretend to open our heart to the Holy Ghost, and invite him to us, whilst we in any shape harbour his enejny> is not to under- stand the nature and conditions of his grace. He is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive. C (John xiv. 17).) The first proof the Holy Ghost gave of the reign of nis grace and love in the Apostles, after his descent upon them, appeared in the change he wrought in their affections ; in their contempt of the world, and the crucifixion of their passions. To this grace tney had been long prepared, by lis- tening to the heavenly. instructions of our divine Redeemer, and his familiar converse and noly example ; by the habitual practice of reli- gious virtues ; and above all, by being initiated in the school of the Cross of Christ ; by the bitter share of afflictions they had in his suf- ferings and death, and in the state of extreme desolation in which he left them at his ascension, ^destitute of all support and comfort: after this, by their close retirement of ten days in continual prayer, in com- punction, aorrow, and pure heavenly desires, the whole world being then most bitter and dreadful to them, insomuch, that for fear of its disgrace and persecution, they durst not show themselves in public. All this, though it shook their hearts, did not suffice to wean them

from the world. This was the work of the Holy Ghost, the finger of the most High, the wonderful miracle of his omnipotent grace. In an instant, by the descent of the divine Spirit, the disciples found themselves changed into other men. From that moment they were dead to themselves, and to the vanities, pleasures, and pride of the world. Its foolish pageantry they sovereignly despised, as empty sha- dows full of snares and dangers. The world itself has produced many false heroes of an imperfect virtue, who pretended to despise its painted charms and riches ; but their confession of its emptiness and sinfulness, was extorted only by an experience of its treachery and bitterness, and often was only a feigned stratagem of vanity, or a subtle illusion of pride. Whilst the philosophers boasted a contempt of riches and applause, they betrayed their insincerity by their keenness in pursuing their own interest, on critical occasions, or by courting vain applause. In the apostles this contempt was sincere and perfect. They loathed temporal goods, because they loved only those which are eternal, and found no comfort but in the hope of enjoying God, in which they said with the royal prophet: Lord, “What have I in heaven? And “ betides thee what do I desire upon earth ? ” For thee, “ my flesh “ and my heart have fainted away. Thou art the God of my heart, « and the God who art my portion for ever.9 (Ps. lxxiL 25, 26.) They dreaded the distraction of worldly cares; the danger of pride;

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which riches easily breed ; and that worm which gnaws the heart of covetous men ; and above all, those earthly desires in which so many snares and evils are concealed. They rejoiced to live free from such a burden, that they might more easily go to God, and esteem it the greatest honour and delight to imitate “ Jesus Christ ; who though “ he was rich, yet became poor for our sakes, that through his poverty u we might be rich.” (2 Cor. viii. 9*) In this spirit all earthly things “ they counted as dung that they might gain Christ.” (Phil, iii 8.) They saw all the treasures of the faithful laid at their feet, without casting an eye upon them, and without any other concern than for the distribution of them amongst the poor. As insensible to the pas- sion of glory, as to that of interest, they rejoiced, and glorified in be- ing found worthy to suffer reproach and torments for Christ, and looked upon themselves as the mo9t contemptible, and the off-scouring of tho world. Confining all their views to eternity alone, they conversed altogether in heaven, where their hearts and their only treasure were. The corrupt motives of covetousness, sensuality, and pride, cleave intimately to our souls, and are the springs of all the desires and actions of worldly men. It is the property of the Holy Ghost in sanctifying the soul to abolish all sucn sordid inclinations, and purify the inmost springs of the heart, by puiging away carnal affections and desires, and reducing all the powers of the soul to one constant pur- suit, that of God’s glory. Hence he is said to wash, to cleanse, to sanctify the soul. With a view to this property, the prophet Malachi compares the Spirit, to 11 a refiner of gold and silver,” (Mai. iii. 3,) destroying the dross, and separating all impure or heterogeneous par- ticles from those metals by the force of fire, till they are reduced to the standard of perfect purity. The soul cleansed from the rust of vicious and earthly affections is rendered pure, all of a kind, concen- tered in the end of her creation, by a purity of heart, and the unity of her desires, all meeting in one point, the glory of God. This one thing alone she desires, and pursues under all appointments of Provi- dence, and through all events in every action.

Christians engaged in the ‘world, call this disposition of all the saints most happy; but seem to look upon it as belonging only to the primitive church, and to the deserts of monks and hermits, and in- compatible with the circumstances of their situation. This is a gross illusion of the world ; and the example of numberless saints m all states and conditions, clearly demonstrates that this sprit of perfect disengagement of the heart may be attained, by the divine grace, in every age and condition ; and that this miracle of grace is continu- ally revived in many pious souls in the church. If we are strangers to it, it is owing to our neglect of the means of extinguishing in our hearts the love of the world. If we are assiduous in seeking the Holy Ghost, and in practising the means to invite him, and prepare our souls to receive him, he ww not fail to assist our infirmity, (Rom* viii. 26,) not only by disentangling and purifying our heart ; but also by enlight ening our understanding by a clear feeling knowledge of the vanity of all temporal things, and the infinite importance and dig- nity of those which are eternal. This light is the second great gift of the Holy Ghost, in those upon whom ne descends*

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The wbfld W£s seated ih darkness; a deluge of sin having spread thick mists of spiritual blindness over the whole face of the earth. * They shall Walk in darkness like blind men, because they have sinned against the Lord.* (Sophon. 1. 1?.) Christ sltorie forth the light of the world, but wds not deceived by it. The Apostles them- Selves, though they enjoyed the influence of tins true light, still re- tained the grossness or their earthly souls, and their dullness in un- derstanding spiritual truths. The light of the divine mystery of the cross waS too bright for them yet to bear. And our blessed Saviour told them he had many things to say to them ; but they could not then bear them. (John xvi. lz; (Luke xvm. 34) (Acts 1. 6).) Many sublime mysteries, the deep things of God , especially those that are relative to the cross of Cnrlst, coufd hot he duly apprehended by them before their minds were perfectly enlightened by the descent of the Holy Ghost. Besides these, there are many moral truths so

Serfect and so exalted, that men cannot be effectually persuaded of liein, or penetrated with them, but by the powerful immediate ope- ration of tne holy divine Spirit. Such were those delivered by Christ in his sermon on the mountain; that the poor in spirit, the meet, fcnd those Who mourn and weep, are blessed above all others ; that our enemies are always deserving of otir love ; that the most outrage- ous injury ought not only to be iorgiven ; but relumed with kindness and benevolence. Of these and many other such great and holy truths, no evidence offeasoii, no arts of persuasion can ever give us so full, lasting, and bperative conviction as will form a constant practical as- sent, and give us a true sehse and relish of the same, so as that they may become an habitual rule of conduct. The Holy Ghost alone can produce this effectual conviction in our minds. The same power only that made them, can reform them. The divine Spirit wnich at the first creation, brooding over the wide chaos, produced this beautiful and regularly disposed world out of darkness and confusion, must shed the beams of his light upon our minds, to produce in us a new crea- tion of virtue, bring forth light oilt of our darkness, and dissipate errors, and the prejudices of our passions by the rays of truth. To tlils^ S. Paul alludes, when he says : u God who commanded light to shine “ out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the « knbwledge of the glory of God.” (2 Cor. iv. 6.) The Apostles therefore appeared so long incapable of understanding those spiritual truths, at which corrupt nature is shocked, and the passions recoil ; their understanding was yet as weak as if they had never ap- proached that source of light, because their Full instruction and refor- mation was reserved to that adorable Spirit of truth. Hence Christ remitted them to him for the perfect knowledge of his holy law and mysteries. “ When the Spirit of truth shall come, he will teach you << all truth ” (John xvi. 13.) “ If he Holy Ghost whom the Father

“ will send in my name, will teach you all things, and will bring all « things to your mind.” (John xiv. 2d.) This Holy Spirit is truly our heavenly teacher, because the Lord of souls. Earthly masters only sound in the ear ; but the Holy Ghost reaches the inward mind, re- moves all grossness, stupidity, and other obstacles, and gives the

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power x)f relishing and comprehending his revealed truths* Ely his rays, the disciples, who before were slow of apprehension in spiritual matters* penetrated the sacred obscurity of the Scriptures, saw into the abyss of the boundless and unfathomed goodness, and other attributes of God, and the great mysteries of religion were unfolded to them* Ig- norant fishermen, who knew nothing above their nets and their boats, are now masters of the most sublime of all sciences : poor idiots who could scarcely speak, now beat dow n the eloquence and learning of the philosophers and sagos of all nations, by the torrent of their dis- courses, and by that Spirit which animated their hearts and their words, and which nothing could resist. The same Holy Ghost ia given us in a manner suiting the exigencies of our souls* He inspires us with docility and submission to the mysteries of faith, and to the voice of grace ; he enlightens our understanding, Instructing us in the wisdom of God, and in the paths of virtue, secretly reproving our hearts, and discovering our own spiritual miseries to us in such a manner as to give us a clear view of their depth, and a true feeling of their weight. Whenoe comes it that Christians go often blind themselves, and walk in darkness in the midst of the light of faith, see so imperfectly their duties and obligations, make so many false steps, have such weak ideas of the divine attributes and mysteries, are so great strangers to themselves, their spiritual wants, clangers, and disorders ? The reason is plain : they consult not the Holy Ghost, nor prepare their souls to receive his lights, and secret direction and assistance. The first and essential part of this preparation, is the dis- engagement of the heart from earthly things. It is impossible to re* ceive the full torrent of heavenly light, or to conceive well spiritual things, till we have learned to shut our eyes to this wrorJd, and tA use it as if we used it not, ao acquitting ourselves with dijigeuee of our duties in it, as a stewardship for which we are accountable to God, our neighbours, and ourselves j yet watchful not to suffer our affections to be caught in its fetters. Holy meditation, with the other exercises of devout prayer, and the practice of all Christian virtues, open our minds to the operation of the divine Spirit, and arc the necessary means to prepare our souls, and purify the eyes of our understanding, to receive the beams of the divine light, in the visit of the Holy Spirit. The effects of this visit Christ points out, saying : “ When “ he shall come, he will convince the world of sin, and of justice, and “ of judgment.” (John xvi. 8.) Before his coming, the soul had a very weak sense of the enormity of sin 5 the Holy Ghost gives her a full conviction of its evil ; shows her the universal disorder pf her heart and actions, and excites her earnestly to seek the great physi- cian, who alone is able to heal all her spiritual diseases. He con- vinces her of justice, or of the necessity of wiping away her sins, by torrents of tears : also of judgment, by which, in the tribunal of her own heart, she condemns herself to expiate them by the severity of a penitential life. He instructs her, moreover, in every duty, and in every virtue, giving her with a complete knowledge, the most feel- ing sentiments of humility, meekness, and divine love. u His unction “teacheth you of all things,” (l JohniL 27*) He infuses * sublime

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habitual knowledge of these virtues, and as occasion requires,* 1>y his actual illustrations directs the understanding by his unerring light, to guide the will in. the choice and pursuit of moral good; and ne en- riches her with holy prudence, which is the fruit of true sanctity, and a special gift of the Holy Ghost. Of this divine light which is the privilege of the saints in this life, frequent mention is made in the holy Scriptures. “ The knowledge of the holy is prudence 5” (Prov.ix. 10,) “ the path of the just is a shining light.” (Prov. iv. 18.) “ I will give “ thee understanding, and I will instruct thee in this way, in which thou “ shalt go.” (Ps» xxxi. 8.) “ Blessed is the man whom thou shalt in-

“ struct, O Lord ; and shalt teach him out of thy law.” (Ps. xciii. 12.) “ I have understood more than all my teachers, because thy testi- “ monies are my meditation : I have had understanding above the “ ancients.” fPs. cxviii. 99, 100.) “ Thy light shall rise up in dark- “ ness, and toy darkness shall be as the noon-day. The Lord will “fill thy soul with brightness, and thou shalt be like a watered “ garden, and like a fountain of water, whose waters shall not fail.” (Isa. lviii. 10, 11 ; (John vi. 45).) “All thy children shall be taught of “ the Lord.” (Isa. liv. 13.) “ I am the Lord thy God who teacheth “ thee profitable things, who governeth thee in the way that thou walk- “ est.” (Is.lxviii. 17.) This doctrine is not to be wrested in favour of the fanaticism of any pretended inspiration or new light ; which overturns all principles both of reason and religion. The light here spoken of is a gift of the Holy Ghost, being both that habitual and that actual grace of the understanding by which the Holy Ghost directs it to fol- low the rules of prudence and all perfect virtue, in a spirit of entire submission, humility, and docility. For since our understanding is darkened by the sinfulness of human nature, it can no more under- stand or adhere to supernatural truths in a manner conducive to sal- vation, than an eye can see colours without light. This grace we must continually labour to obtain and improve. * O divine Spirit, heavenly Master, who without the sound of words, enrichest the memory with the most important truths, and enlightenest the understanding, to make us at the same time know and embrace them: come, visit our soul, which without thee can neither comprehend nor retain thy saving knowledge t Spirit of truth, teach us all truth, and banish out of our minds all prejudices of the passions, aH false maxims of the world, all illusion and error, that we may learn all we ought to know, and be di- rected to do thy will in all things ! . ^ ^ ^**^4*^

The Holy Ghost is not only the Spirit of purity and light, but also of charity and sanctity. If he disentangle the heart, and en- lighten the understanding, it is in order to dispose and fit the soul for the eminent graces of sanctity and charity, by which he establishes his reign in the heart which he Visits and enricnes by his presence, and with the most sublime heavenly gifts. Sanctity implies a spot- less purity, free from every stain of malice, pride, selfishness, contract- edness, and whatever is sinful or imperfect ; and is joined with every perfect virtue, with all moral and religious righteousness and universal goodness. Infinite sanctity is the highest amongst all the attributes of the Deity, which gives to all the rest perfect beauty, and all the

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Ch. V.]

charms of which we can form an idea : for knowledge, wisdom, or power only exclude all deformity by being allied with all perfect sanctity. The Holy Ghost being the love of the Father and Son, is styled the author of holy love, grace, and sanctity in us s this is called his most precious gift iu our souls. By the plentiful effusion of his grace upon the Apostles, he cleansed their souls from all filth of sin, and so strengthened them in divine love, that they lived with- out falling into venial sins of malice or full deliberation, but not with- out all venial sins of frailty and surprise, as St. Francis of Sales observes, describing the state of perfect love in this life.a (Gal. ii. 1 1 ; (1 John ii. 4).) The Just man falls seven times a day by preci- pitation, surprise, and frailty ; but he rises immediately again by the spirit of perfect compunction for known and unknown sins, in which he lives, and by that watchfulness over the affections of his own heart, and over all his senses, in which he daily improves. (Prov. xxiv. 16.) Holiness is not confined to an exemption from sin, and irregular appetites and attachments ; it moreover carries along with it universal justice and righteousness, or all perfect virtue, founded in sincere humility, and consummated by charity or divine love. (1 John iv. 16.) The Holy Trinity, or Go'd is love. The Holy Ghost is in particular the eternal love of the Father and the Son. Hence it is the infinite desire of the Holy Trinity, that the divine Spirit descend upon us to convert our souls into his pure love. What Was the end of Christ’s birth, sufferings, death, resurrection, ascension, and other mysteries; but that he might send the Holy Ghost, that he might fill us with this precious gift ? “ I am come,” says Christ,

(Luke xii. 49,) “ to send fire upon the earth, and what will I but “ that it be kindled ?” The emblem under which the Holy Ghost appeared, consisted in tongues of firer “ to show,” says Charles Borromeo,b “ that he came to inflame the whole world with the fire “ of his love. O astonishing goodness of God ! what return shall we “make? 'With what love snail we receive this love? The other “ feasts, or mysteries of Christ, are the effects of his love. But in “ this mystery love itself was bestowed upon us. The Holy Ghost, “ the reciprocal, eternal iove of the Father and the Son, is sent, and “ diffuses the gift or grace of his iove in the hearts of men. Who “ can be so hardened, as not to burn with love of this eternal and in- “ finite lover and love ? How truly did Isaiah say : ‘ The Lord will “ comfort Sion; he will comfort its ruins.* (Isa.. Ii. 3.) He cries “ out : ‘All you that thirst, come to the waters : and you that have “no money, make haste, buy, and eat.’ (Isa. lv. 1.) ‘If any one “ thirst, let him come to me and drink.’” (John vii. 37.) It is given gratis, without price or recompence of gold and silver. Yet is said to be bought, because we give our hearts to God to obtain it. So abundant is this gift, that the Royal Prophet says of it : “ The stream “ of the river maketh the city of God joyful.” (Ps. xlv. 5.) This

» S. Pr. of Sales, on the Love of God, b. x. ch. 5.

, b 8. Car. Borrom. T. L Serin, in Penteoosten, Anno 1683, pp. 96, 97. Media. An. 17

Mt wiirtUNVUDB. [T*. IX*

sacred water, etematty flowing, pern itself with the impetuous stream of * torrMt into tho souls of those who open their hearts to receive it* lit what abyss of misery do we lie grovelhng? With what dangers, with how many threatening enemies are we eneotn gamed ? Shall we not cry out to this Spirit of strength and comfort ? Shill we not open otir souls to receive his heavenly gifts ? Above all, his holy love t for this we must be “ the generation of those who seek “ the Lord.” (Ps* xxili. 6*) And him alone ; saying : “ Thou art M my portion." (Ps* cxviii. 67.) This gift of the Holy Ghost com* prises both habitual and actual love of God.

CHAP* VI*

On the Gift* which accompany Jfabitual Charity .

BAWcrrrrttro Grace, or Habitual Charity, the primary gift of the Holy Ghost, is never given alone, being always accompanied with Other special gifts. Namely, first, the infltsed, or supernatural efrfwci, faith, hope, and charity : also penance, and other tirtues which spring from the theological virtues. With these every soul adorned with habitual grace Is decked by the Holy Ghost, .her heavenly bride* groom, as with so many spiritual jewels* . Their lustre is also eenti* finally increased with the growth or improvement of habitual charity. 2nd1y. The seven gifts, and twelve fruits of the Holy Ghost, and the eight beatitude!, are also the attendants of sanctifying grace, and derived from the same divine author, bestowed in a more heroie de- gree, in proportion to the dispositions and preparation of the soul to receive them.

The faculties of our soul were weakened and impaired by sin, to as to stand in need of remedies and strengthened. The Holy Ghost, by his seven gifts, which accompany sanctifying grace in a degree proportioned to the disposition of the soul to receive them, heals the weakness and disorders of the will and understanding, and raises them to facilitate the exertion of their powers in doing good works. These gave wings and strength to the Apostles and other saints, to fly and run in the service of God. (Isa. xi. 6.) These raised them from the earth, and above all earthly things, to soar in the sir of heavenly affections. Whence Isaiah gives them the name of the Spirits. (Isa. xi. 2.) St. Paul calls their outward exertions the word or wisdom > of knowledge, Ac. (1 Cor. xii. 8, 9») In Ecctariasticus they ate represented both as special rifts with which God fills the soul, and habitual dispositions, under tne title of the Spirit of wisdom, of understanding, Ac. (Ecde*. xv. 3, 6.) They are so many perma- nent supernatural habits, which dispose and incline the soul readily to follow Virtue, or the instinct of tne Holy Ghost,* fortifying the memory to retain his impressions, and the understanding and will to obey his illuminations and motions. They are explained as follows.*

• A TlMttuwi.jMai.gu.ee. a. *. 8*a8.0i*gar7tto Great, 1*9, Man*. *,96,

£ See Drays, Carthusian, Tr, ii, de Doris* art, 34,

WJtttS UM'fUl-

Cfc. VI.)

1. Understanding , as a supernatural gift of the Holy Ghost, teaches a soul to penetrate supernatural things, not by the bare knowledge of them by faith, nor by study or investigation, but by an experimental affection and relish of divine things, through the union of the mind with God. By the natural stupidity of our corrupt state, we are slow in conceiving the motives of our holy faith, and the reasonableness and sanctity of the divine ordinances ; or in taking a true view of our duties ; and are hence exposed to various temptations of doubts, dis- turbance, or weakness in our faith ; of an esteem of sensual pleasures and goods, and a disgust or contempt of those which are spiritual. These evils we are armed against, ana this stupidity is healed by the gift of understanding , which on the other side raises our soul to pene- trate the great motives of faith, love, hope, and other virtues, which are presented to us in the mysteries of our religion, and particularly strengthens the knowledge of faith. The Holy Ghost gives us a clear certainty of them, makes us see and feel their power in the bottom of our hearts, and raises in our mind holy thoughts, which inflame our hearts, and fill them with pious affections and desires. u The uncer- <( tain and hidden things of thy wisdom thoU hast made manifest to “ me.” (Ps. i. 8 ; see (Ps. cxviii. 129).) S. Austin, after his con- version, could not be satiated with contemplating the depth of the divine counsels, in the mystery of our redemption.* (See (Isa. ix. 5).) How great this gift is the Psalmist expresses : c< Blessed is the man u whom thou shalt instruct, O Lord ; and shalt teach from thy law.1* (Ps. xciii. 12 ; Wisd. vii. 8, 9, 10, 11.)

2. I Pisdomy as a gift of the Holy Ghost, teaches the knowledge of such supernatural truths, not by a feeling experience, but by the high- est divine causes or truths, or the most sublime mysteries in which they are contained ; as the wisdom, mercy, and other attributes of God, from the Trinity, Incarnation, &c. The excellence of the gift of spiritual wisdom is admirably displayed in the Sapiental Books. “ It illuminates, and in some degree deifies the human understanding,” says a great author.5

3. Science teaches the same, by lower human causes, as the creation, ordinary providence, &c. By these two gifts we learn to despise earthly bubbles, and conceive the highest ideas of divine things, con- template them with singular delight, and grow in the knowledge of Goa, which excites us to love, and closely unite our hearts to him. n They give,* says S. Bonaventure,c “ an interior most sweet relish.* Whence the Psalmist says : <c Taste, and see that the Lord is sweet.** (Ps. xxxiii. 9.)

4. Counsel is the experimental knowledge and relish of heavenly things, as mentioned above, inasmuch as it helps the intellect in the choice of means, and in carrying those truths into execution and prac- tice. By this we shun precipitation, sloth, indiscretion, and other such dangers, and see what we ought to do to fulfil the divine will and commandments, and to practise mental and other branches of devout

• S. Aug. Coni L ix. c. 6. * Mays, CarlM* Tr> ii, de Ptim* rtt, 18,

? 8* Bonavent. h 7 . de Donif > c, 7*

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[Tb. IX*

prayer. “ I will give thee understanding, and I will instruct thee in w this way, in which thou shalt go.” (Ps. xxxi. 8.) The moral virtue of prudence, both acquired and infused, directs a man in regulating his conduct in the practice of moral virtues, and is their eye. The gift of counsel does the same with regard to the theological virtues, and whatever is referred to a supernatural end. “ Show, O Lord, “ thy ways, and teach me thv paths.” (Ps. xxiv. 4.) “ Counsel shall “ keep thee, and prudence snail preserve thee.” (Prov. ii. 11.)

5. Fortitude is all kind of virtue, if taken for a firm and constant resolution to resist all evil, and pursue all virtue ; for this disposition of soul is essential to every virtue. It is a special and cardinal virtue, if taken for the noble moral habit of soul which teacheth us to mode- rate our fears on one side, and our confidence, by restraining rash boldness, on the other. It enables a man both to undertake difficult things, and to suffer hardships with a just, considerate, and sedate firmness in the cause of virtue. The latter is the more heroic, as Aristotle,* and S. Thomas Aquinas show ;b but is chiefly derived from Christian principles, as in the martyrs, who suffered torments and death for the sake of virtue, with a rational uniform courage and firmness. Fortitude , as a gift of the Holy Ghost, inclineth a man to do and suffer all that this virtue can do, because its actions are derived from a more excellent principle, and a stronger arm, namely, the motion of the Holy Ghost, to whom this gift renders the soul firmly obedient ; whereas the moral virtue, by its own proper strength, only makes her obedient to reason. The gift animates her to much greater exploits and victories. Thus it made the Apostles invincible, under all manner of insults, torments and persecutions, (Heb. xi. 36,) and raised the saints above poverty, sickness, and all other sufferings, with an heroism unknown to bare natural courage. This gift fortifies the soul against the temptations of pusillanimity, and against all fears, dangers, and temporal evils.

6. Piety, as a gift of the Holy Ghost, is not to be confounded with that natural inclination of tenderness towards our parents, near rela- tions, fellow- citizens, and country, which bears this name ; nor with that moral virtue which disposes us to acquit ourselves of every duty towards these : it being an infused supernatural preparation of the soul, (Rom viii. 15,) which renders her docile to the pious impressions of the Holy Ghost, and especially fills her with the most tender respect towards God, as our Soverign and infinitely good Father,6 and with due regard and tenderness, for his sake, toward all our fellow-crea- tures, as his, and bearing the impress of his divine image, especially towards the saints, our parents, and country.d It is to be cultivated and improved by continual practice in the affections of the heart, in words and actions. “ Exercise thyself unto piety.” (1 Tim. iv. 7.) “ At least from this time call to me : thou art my Father,” (Jer. iiL 4,) says Almighty God.

* Arist 1. Hi. Ethic, c. 9. * 2. 2d®, qu. 123, a. 6.

* S. Tho. 2. 2d®, qu. 121. a. 2.

* Harphius, Mystic. TheoL 1. ii part 3. c. 38.

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7. The Fear of Oody which as the gift of the Holy Ghost, is the filial fear of displeasing him for the love which we bear him ; not so much a fear of the punishment as of the offence.* As a virtue it springs from the divine love, from which it derives its life. As a gift of the Holy Ghost, it is a permanent habitual submission of the soul to God, with the highest veneration, great fear of incurring his dis- pleasure in the least thing, and an earnest desire ever to do his will in the most perfect manner. It banishes temptations of sloth, negligence, presumption, and self-sufficiency, and is a continual spur to ml virtue, and an extreme watchfulness against sin. (Ps. ii. 11 ; cxviii. 120; Ecclus. i. 25 et 27 ; vii. 19 ; xxvii. 4.)

The four first of these gifts heal, strengthen, and raise the under- standing : the rest perfect the will, in order to the practice of heroic virtue. They are both the spiritual sword and buckler ; arms both defensive and offensive against our enemies, and powerful helps for our advancement in the most sublime and heroic virtues, both of the contemplative and active life. Habits of the moral, and the two first theological virtues, may reside in a soul bereaved of sanctifying grace, and facilitate the exertion of their virtues : but these gifts are insepa- rable from it, and raise the powers of the soul to the exercise of the most excellent and heroic acts, especially of the theological virtues which hold the first rank in the great work of our sanctification, in uniting our souls to God, and glorifying him in them. These gifts are therefore inferior to the theological virtues, though helps in exerting them ; and they are of a superior order to the beatitudes, below which stand the habits of moral virtues, among the spiritual ornaments of the soul. These seven principal gifts of the Holy Ghost comprise under them many others, some of which are brought into the account. (1 Cor. xii.) We say the same of the fruits of the Holy Ghost, which S. Paul, (Gal. v. 22, 23,) and with him the schools of the the- olojnans, reduce to twelve.1*

These fruits are habitual or permanent perfections, flowing from the presence of the Holy Ghost by sanctifying grace, or from his energic motions or inspirations ; and they regulate and keep in good order the powers of the soul. They differ from the virtues of the same names, which they presuppose ; or they are supreme habits, whereby God raises, facilitates, perfects, and crowns those virtues, and brings them to an high and heroic perfection, to the great ad- vancement of the soul in spiritual life. In other words, these fruits are so many special effects of divine charity, which by them governs the affections of the heart. Namely, first, by the dispositions, motions, and exertion of acts of its own love towards God, our neigh- bour, and our own souls. Secondly, by the holy joy which it infuses, which is a continual feast of the soul, and a kind of anticipated Paradise. Thirdly, by the inward peace , which she enjoys with God, with her neighbour, as much as in her lies, and within herself a peace

» 8. Tho. 2. 2d®. qu. 19. a. 2. <fe 8. Bonav. in Daita Saluti t Tit de Dome Spiriti If, 8. c. 1. et 1. 7. de Qmie, c. 1. Canaan. Collat xi. c. 13.

b Aqnin. 1. 2d». qu. 70. et Lect 6, in Gal,

*34 WWWflWTO*- £3>*

which nothing cae disturb. Fourthly and fifthly, by paiiimc* and longdfsarwnos, (he Holy Ghost arms the soul against *11 external avjj*. By those affections, or effect# of the presence pf the Holy Ghost, she governs her heart, and its motions within and towards herself : end towards her neighbour, by those which follow. Sixthly, by bonepohno f, or the will of doing good to aft. Seventhly, by benignity, or the execution of that will. Eighthly, by mildness, by which she is disposed to bear all injuries* Ninthly, by fidelity, or en ebhorreeee of all deceit and unfaithfulness. Lastly, she is taught to govern her heart, and all its motions, with regard to things bencsth her. Tenthly, by modesty , regulating all her actions and exterior deportment* Eleventhly, by chastity, restraining concupiscence. Twelfthly, by eontinenev, restraining within the strictest hounds of duty and temperance, all lawful use of pleasure or gratification of sense* Betides the gifts and fruits of the Holy Ghost, the eight beatitudes belong to the rich and glorious train which attends the grace of sanctity, or tho effusion of thn Holy Ghost dwelling in the souk

Our divina Redeemer opened his sermon on tho mountain by eelHng man to bis happiness, from which he was fallen by sin and blindness, and which the sages of the world bad in vain sought to discover by the strength of weak reason/ The eight beatitudes aye the basis of that sublime morality of which he lays down the principles in his first sermon i they are the rules of Christian perfection, and the habitual dispositions of soul which lead her to eternal happiness, and put her in present possession of that degree of happiness of which this life is capable. By poverty of spirit we shake off the ologs of earth which weigh us down, aspire to he rich only in God, sad prepare ourselves to become angels. This poverty pf spirit denotes mot only a victory over all inordinate dtsirep, and a sense of the vanity of all earthly goods ; but also humility and lowliness of mind, the foundation of grace and all virtue* How strongly was this double poverty of spirit recommended to us by the oxaaijple and doctrine of the Son of God? By the holy mourning of com- punction we demise our hearts, open them to the kingdom of grace, and to spiritual joy and peace, and inflame them with all heavenly pure desires. By meekness wo restrain anger and all the passions of the irascible faculty of the souk From tho doctrine and example of Christ, we lesm, that amongst all Christian duties, this virtue is one of the first, both in rank and importance. Nor is any virtue of more extensive influence in securing our own or neighbour’s tranquillity and peace, or in assisting us to subdue pride, ambition, vanity, envy, self- love, vain curiosity, suspicion, weak credulity, precipitation# negli- gence, and inadvertency* It seems the only beatitude to which Christ premises so explicitly a present earthly as well as a spiritual and eternal recompence i saying that the meek shall possess the land. By which we are not to understand large portions of the earth or its riches, which more frequently entangle and possess the man than are

• S. Aug. 1. viii.de Civ* Dai# e* l, 4* 0, £o*

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enjoyed and possessed by him ; but the meaning is, that whatever they possess on earth, this they enjoy with comfort, pleasure, content, and tranquillity of mind. This domestic inward peace gives the true relish of all earthly enjoyments ; at the same time that it secures the blessing of God, and ordinarily wins every neighbour, and in the end, at least, overcomes even malice itself sweetening the most revengeful, and endeariug a man to his very enemies. This the Royal Prophet expresses when he says : “ The meek shall possess “ the land, and shall be delighted in the multitude of peace. A “ little which the just man possesses, is better than the great riches “ of the wicked. Such as bless the Lord* shall possess the land.” (Ps. xxxvi., Hebr. xxxvii. v. U, 16, 22.) By the “hunger and “ thirst after justice,” or the most vehement desire and assiduous earnest petition, and pursuit of every virtue, every degree of sanctity and grace, we dilate our spiritual appetites, and both lay the found- ation and continually enlarge our stock of all spiritual good. For « the beginning of wisdom is the most vehement desire thereof.” (Wisd. vi. 18.) The more we dilate our heart by the vehemence of our desire, the more shall we be filled. The plentiful repletion here promised, is to be understood of grace in this life, and in glory hereafter. By mei'cifulness, or an affection of compassion, and a desire to comfort and relieve all in distress both under corporal and spiritual miseries, and a readiness to forgive all personal injuries, we imitate our mo6t merciful God, and engage him to show us mercy, in which alone is founded all our hope, and whatever title we can ever have to grace or glory. In this world we behold nothing but miseries, both in ourselves and in all things about us. Such is the goodness of God, that in the miseries of the world, we find the remedy of our own by showing mercy to others. By cleanness of hearty or the purity and disengagement of our affections, we are dis- posed to receive the graces by which God discovers himself, his goodness, and the riches of his love to us here, and will reveal him- self to us face to face in his glory in the world to come. This purity or cleanness of heart is not less essential a condition of holi- ness, than of felicity both temporal and eternal. It engages God, who is sanctity itself, to dwell in the heart by his grace here, by the closest spiritual union, and to unite the soul eternally to himself in his glory. Thus the clean of heart shall see God by the fuller knowledge and relish of his goodness and mysteries, as through a glass, during their mortal pilgrimage, but chiefly by enjoying him in his glory. By being peace makers, we bear in a special manner the image of God, and by this badge demonstrate ourselves to he pe- culiarly his children. He is the God of peace, (1 Cor. xiv. 33,) aud Christ is styled the Angel and the Prince of Peace. (Isa. ix. 6.) His peace he bequeathed to his followers as his last legacy, (John xiv. 27,) and his last prayer before his passion, was for the peace and unity of the church. (John xvii. 20, 21.) If we love and cultivate this holy peace, we maintain it in the first place in our own souls, by resisting sin and subduing our passions: 2adly, by an affectionate and peaceable disposition, and a quiet and inoffensive behaviour

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towards all others ; and by endeavouring as much as in ua lies to maintain it with and amongst all, and to restore it where it is inter- rupted. “ Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which u no man can see God." (Hebr. xii. 14.) “ If it be possible, as “ much as is in you, have peace with all men." (Rom. xii. 18.) The Apostle says : “ If it be possible :" because, though we must be always willing for the sake of peace to depart from our own rights, yet we cannot give up those of God, or forego any duty we owe to mm, by forsaking the steadfastness to his faith, which we profess, or to his holy law and truth in any point. When wicked unreasonable men insist on terms inconsistent with essential duties, we must prefer even death itself to such a compliance : yet we must demean our- selves peaceably towards them as much as in us, by forgiving all personal wrongs they do us, and returning good for evil, and show- ing that we sincerely endeavour to preserve “ peace always by all “ means." (2 Thess. iii. 16.) This disposition of perfect peace supposes a foundation of many great virtues already laid in the soul, perfect humility, meekness, chanty, and piety must have gone before it ; and this is one of the highest degrees of good in the scale of perfection, one of the last finishing strokes of the divine image formed in us by the Holy Ghost. No wonder then, that the adorable Trinity dwells in such a soul with singular complacency, and displays in her his omnipotence, gracious bounty, and goodness in his spi- ritual graces, and the effusion of his chaste delights. This virtue entitles her to his special favours and choicest graces, and in a dis- tinguished manner to the dignity of Child of God, by the particular character of the divine likeness which she bears, and the particular privileges of grace which he confers upon her. (Rom. xiv. 17 ; xv. 13, 33 ; (Phil. i. 2) ; iv. 7 ; Coloss. iii. 13 ; (Tit. i. 4).) The last and highest degree of blessedness is reserved for those who suffer perse- cution for the sake of righteousness, with a spirit of patience, meek- ness, resignation, and divine love. Christian suffering calls forth these and all other heroic Christian virtues, and carries them to the greatest heights ; is the most powerful cure of our spiritual maladies, and entitles us to a more than ordinary weight of glory in heaven, implied by that blessing, “ Theirs is the kingdom of heaven :" for this being the most perfect sacrifice of the whole man to the divine love, attended with the concurrence of the most sublime virtues, and with the greatest fervour or strongest degree of inclination, or adhesion to the divine love, the measure of which fervour gives the value to the sacrifice before God, this must consequently entitle a man to the highest degree of glory. Hence St. James writes: (James i. 4,) “My brethren, count it all joy, when you shall fall “ into divers trials : knowing that the trying of your faith worketh “ patience : and patience hath a perfect work. That you may be “ perfect and entire, failing in nothing."

The virtues implied in the eight beatitudes are so many sublime and heroic moral virtues : but are only styled beatitudes when founded on supernatural motives, infused by a special grace, and flowing from divine charityi consequently raised to a superior order suitable to their

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original ; for the theological virtues are supernatural habits, founded in a formal motive which is supernatural, and such by their own nature, that they cannot be acquired by human means, and are necessarily infused by a special grace : but moral virtues may be acquired in a certain degree by human endeavours, upon motives suggested by natural reason. Yet in men of prayer, endowed with eminent charity, even moral virtues become infused, being obtained again in a much more noble and perfect manner than they were first acquired by repeated endeavours and acts. Thus humility when in- fused gives the soul a much fuller view, and more feeling conviction of her own nothingness and baseness, than she could have acquired by natural means, even assisted by ordinary actual graces, insomuch that she seems to herself translated into a new region of light, in which she sees and feels many great and important truths in a far clearer manner than she did formerly, as S. Thomas Aquinas observes, and is carried to greater heights and more heroic and arduous acts. In like manner are all the beatitudes when infused and supernatural habits.

Therefore, the Holy Ghost residing in the soul, by sanctifying grace or habitual charity, together with it enriches her with the infused habits of the theological virtues, with his special gifts (by which he disposes her to advance swiftly, and with ease, in those nabits and all sanctity) ; with hisyrtuto (by which this kingdom is established, main- tained, and propagated in her heart by his grace and love ;) and with the beatitudes, which are habitual dispositions of the most exalted moral virtues, by which she is enabled and inclined to produce these heroic acts. These habitual graces always accompany sanctifying grace, and are infused with it in the soul ; but often in a low or weak degree* They are continually improved in proportion as obstacles are more removed, and as the Holy Ghost more perfectly possesses the souL Residing in her as a bright sun, he diffuses these his beams over her faculties and affections ; or as the boundless fountain of grace, he sends forth these happy rivulets in such abundance as becomes the infinite source, where the narrowness of the divided heart does not contract the channel too much to receive the full stream springing to eternal life. Of these gifts, Jesus said to the Samaritan woman: (John iv. 10,) “ If thou didst know the gift of God, and who it is that saith “ to thee, give me to drink, thou, perhaps, wouldst have asked of him, “ and he would have given thee living water.” (Ib. v. 14.) a The “ water that I shall give him, shall become in him a fountain of water, “ springing up into everlasting life.”

The Apostles being perfectly disposed and prepared by the divine grace, received the effusion of the Holy Ghost with his gifts in the most exuberant plentitude. This appeared in the effects which his descent produced in them. Before, they were unacquainted with the perfect spirit of humility, meekness, and charity, whicn Christ preached to them, and understood not his divine lessons concerning self-denial, renouncing their own will, patience in suffering injuries, the love of the Cross, and the like* “ This word was hidden from them, and they “ understood not the things that were said.” (Luke xviii. 34.) If any amongst them, at any time, apprehended his meaning, they conceived not the perfect spirit or relish of those heavenly truths j above all,

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they mml& not comprehend the sublime mystery and advantages ef big sufferings and death. The most fervent amongst them, the prinoe of the sacred college, was shocked at the very thought of such anhumi- liation in his divine Master, and said : “ Lord, be it far from thee : this “ shall not be unto thee.’9 (Mat. xvi. 22.) Insomuch that Christ gave him that severe rebuke : “ Get thee behind me, Satan ; thou art a

“ scandal to me : because thou savourest not the things that are of « God, but the things that are of men.1* One of them, when a city of the Samaritans refused to receive him, thought it a part of holy zeal, to ask him to command them like Elias to call fire down from heaven to consume that wicked people. ( (Luke ix. 54).) Another put himself in a posture of defence, to rescue nis master out of the hands of those who came to apprehend him in the garden of Olives. (Matt. xxvi. 67.) All those sublime virtues which form the character of true Christian sanctity, they were not then able even to frame to themselves an idea of. The Holy Ghost by his descent taught them the truth of all the sublime maxims of practical virtue, by enlightening their understand- ing, and at the same time, by the change he wrought by his interior motions, infused into them the relish, spirit, and perfect sentiments of the same truths. He created in them new affections and dispositions, so that they loved and embraced with joy what they had hated and dreaded, and abhorred and shunned what they before loved : they contemned riches, honours, and pleasures ; and set a high value on hu- miliations, poverty and sufferings ; and they desired nothing with so great ardour, as to sacrifice their lives for the divine honour. He fulfilled^in them what he had foretold by kaiah : (Isa. i. 25.) “ I will

scour thee by fire of all thy dross, and will take away aH thy base

* metal: for God is a consuming fire.1* (Hebr. xiL 29.) The Holy

• Ghost burnt and consumed all the straw of earthly affections that was in their hearts, and anointed them with the interior unction of his grace in all perfect virtue.

In nothing did the grace of the Holy Ghost appear more remarka- ble in the apostles, than in the spirit of fortitude, courage, and fervour, with which he replenished them. Just before they were fearful and tepid. Instead of praying with their divine Master in the garden, they suffered themselves to be overcome with, sleep. In his passion some fled* and the prince of their college denied him at the voice of a poor maid. After his ascension, sensible of their own weakness, they durst not stir out of doors. Nay Christ himself gave them this injunc- tion : “ Stay you in the city till you be endued with power for strength) “ from on high.” (Luke xxiv. 49*) As if he had said : I send you to bear testimony to my resurrection, and other mysteries ; but yomare yet too weak to support this commission : wait therefore till you are strength- ened against the tyranny of the world, by the strength of the most High. “ You shall receive the power of the Holy Ghost, coming upon “ you, and you shall he witnesses to me, even to the uttermost parts “ of the earth.” (Act i. 8.) You shall be witnesses to the Jews, and the most obstinate among the Scribes and Pharisees: to the Gentiles, to the princes and the emperors of the earth. Twelve poor men, till then hidden, unknown, and afraid almost of their own sha- dow, on a sudden had courage to begin the work of God. “They

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beg&n to “speak.* (Acts ii. 4.) Peter, who before trembled in presence of a servant, “ then raised his voice,” (Acts H. 14,) and preached boldly the divinity, and resurrection of Jesus, before those very Jews, those Scribes and Pharisees, 4hose princes of the nation, who had put him to an ignominious death a few days before. (Acts ii. 31, 32.) He set before their eyes the enormity of their sin, and told them with a con- fidence which no fear of torments or death could shake : “You have “ slain the author of life, whom God hath raised from the dead, of “ which we are witnesses.” (Actsiii. 15.) He declares him to be the Messias, and Saviour of mankind, and that there is no other name under heaven given to men, in which we must be saved ; all which he demonstrated from the prophets, and confirmed by miracles. (Acts iv. 12.) When the chief magistrates, who had imbued their hands in the blood of Christ, threatened the apostles if they should speak any more in his name to any man, they answered : “ If it be just in “ the sight of God to hear you rather than God, judge ye.” (Acts iv. 29 (Acts v. 19).) When they were again convened before tne great council, they appeared without fear, and only Said : “We ougnt to “ obey God rather than men.” (Acts v. 29.) And they went from “ the presence of the council rejoicing, that they were accounted wor- “ thy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus. And every day they “ ceased not, in the temple, and from house to house, to teach and “ nterfch Christ Jesus.” (Acts v. 41, 42.) When scourged, they rejdiced to suffer for Christ, and counted reproaches, prisons, torments, and death in his cause, their glory, gain, and happiness. Their steady* and uniform virtue struck their very enemies with dread. In hearing them, “fear came upon every soul ; and there was great fear in all. (Acts ii. 43.) S. Chrysostom admiring this intrepidity of the apos- tles writes as follow 2* “ See how Peter speaks : with what confidence “ and courage ! This rt is to be a spiritual man. Let us dispose “ oursetves for this heavenly gift, and all things will be easy to us. “ As fire meeting with straw, is not obstructed ; but much increased “ by it : or rather as if a man who carried fire, should wrestle with “ one who carried dry hay : so do the apostles, filled with the Holy “ Ghost, confidently assail all who oppose them. Whole cities rose “ Up against them ; whole nations are leagued to destroy them : wars, i4 beasts, fire, and the sword threaten them. But what is the effect ? “ They are no more moved at the sight, than if all were only dreams, “ or painted enemies. They march naked against armed legions “ and princes : these poor, illiterate men enter the lists against the

“ troops of sophists, orators, and philosophers. Peter is an over- “ match for their whole body ; he confounds the proud scholars of “ Plato’s academy, those of Aristotle’s Lycaeum, and of the porticos “ of the Stoics ; reduced to silence they stand dumb before him, as if “ they had been mute fishes.”

This example of the apostles is an admirable lesson to all preacher* of the gospel, that they presume not to announce the word of God before they have seriously laboured to fill their souls with the Holy Ghost. The only end of all their labours, their only aim and commission • S. Chrys. Horn. 4. in Act.

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is, to kindle in the breasts of others, the fire of divine love. But how can they communicate this to others, who are not themselves first all on fire with that sacred flame ? Unless they have first remained long in silence, to draw down this heavenly gift trnon their own souls by fervent prayer and compunction, they will speak almost in vain. Their words will seldom have the secret power of touching the hearts of others, nor will they be ordinarily accompanied with the divine bless- ing, which alone can make them fruitful. The apostles were no sooner filled with the Holy Ghost, than they began to preach ; they could not be silent ; and being covered with strength from above, spoke with words of fire. S. Thomas of Villa- Nova admires in S. Peter, how one tongue of fire could convert three thousand on the first day, and in his second sermon, soon after, five thousand more ; and laments how supinely preachers now-a-days neglect to prepare themselves to receive this Spirit. “ A cold tongue cannot utter a dis- “ course of fire : and because we who preach are not replenished with “ the Spirit of God, we kindle no flame in the hearts of those who “ hear us .”*

Though the gifts of the Holy Ghost are various, according to the exigencies of states and persons, yet all private Christians stand in need of his abundant effusion. If we have received a slender share, this is owing to our sloth. But have we received any portion of this divine Spirit ? If we are earthly, carnal, wedded to this world, and insensible to spiritual things, it is plain we have not yet received him. If we have no relish for prayer, no portion of the spirit of that hea- venly exercise, we are strangers to the Holy Ghost, its author. He is love itself. If he inflamed our breasts, we should find no pleasure equal to that of conversing with God, and on heavenly things. We should not be so dull, slothful, and lukewarm, in our spiritual duties. Had we received the Holy Ghost with that plentiful effusion, with which he poured forth his spiritual riches upon the apostles, like them we should be enlightened with a clear knowledge of heavenly things, filled with love, courage and zeal, and bear the fruits of the Holy Ghost, that charity, that joy, that patience, that benignity, that mild- ness and humility, that faithfulness, that modesty, continence and chastity, of which the Apostles speaks. To live by the Spirit of God, bear his fruits, and do his works and not those of the flesh, is not a bare counsel of perfection, but an indispensable precept, without ful- filling which no one can be a child of God, belong to Jesus Christ, or at- tain to his kingdom. (Gal. vi. 7, 8.) Let us listen to the Apostle : “ Be “ not deceived ; God is Hot mocked. “ For what things a man shall sow, “ those also shall he reap. For he that soweth in his flesh, of the “ flesh also shall reap corruption. But he that soweth of the Spirit, “ of the Spirit shall reap life everlasting.” (Gal. v. 25.) “ Whoever

u are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.” (Rom. viii. 14.) Unless we are animated by this Spirit, our souls are without life. We are like those dried dead bones, shown by the prophet Ezekiel, (Ezech. xxxvi. 5,) till God shall say to us : “ Behold I will

» S. Tho. a Villa-Nova, Cone. 1. in Pentec.

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“ send spirit, or life into you, and you shall live.” As the universe in its first creation was a shapeless chaos, till the Holy Ghost being borne upon the waters of that abyss, animated all its parts, (Gen. i. 2,) so are our souls lifeless, till the divine Spirit is infused into them.

God promised his Holy Spirit in the most solemn manner : “ I “ will pour out waters upon the thirsty ground,” says he, by Isaiah, (Isa. xliv. 3,) “ and streams upon the dry land. I will pour out my “ Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thy family.’’ The same Prophet foretold the desolation of the Jews : “ Until the Spirit be “ poured upon us from on high : and the desert shall be as a Carmel, “ (a fruitful mountain) and Carmel shall be counted a forest,” (Isa. xxxvii. 15 ;) by which is meant the abundance of grace, and the fruitfulness in all virtues which the Holy Ghost brings. And in another place : “ This is my covenant with them, saith the Lord, my “ Spirit that is in thee, and my words that I have put in thy mouth, " shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy M seed, nor out of the mouth of thy seed’s seed, from henceforth, “ and for ever.” (Isa. lix. 21.) “I will pour upon you clean water, “ and you shall be cleansed from all your filthiness. And I will give “ you a new heart, and put a new Spirit within you ; and I will take “ away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart “ of flesh : and I will put my Spirit in the midst of you : and I will " cause you to walk in my commandments, and to keep my judg- “ ments, and do them.” (Ezech. xxxvi. 25, 26, 27.) “ 1 will hide “ my face no more from them : fo* I have poured out my Spirit M upon all the house of Israel, saith the Lord God.” (Ezech. xxxix. 29.) “ I will pour out upon the house of David, and upon the in-

“ habitants of Jerusalem, the Spirit of grace, and of prayers : and “ they shall look upon me whom they have pierced : and they shall “ mourn for him, as one mourneth for an only son, and they shall M grieve over him, as the manner is to grieve for the death of the “ first-born.” (Zach. xii. 10.) This spirit of prayer and com- punction for sin, to expiate which Christ died, is a pnncipal fruit of the Holy Ghost, and noble exercise of divine love. By Joel, God particularly alluded to the outward gifts so wonderfully displayed in the primitive church ; but promised his Holy Spirit to all his children under the new covenant. “ It shall come to pass after this, that I “ will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh ; and your sons and your M daughters shall prophesy : your old' men shall dream dreams, and “ your young men shall see visions. Moreover, upon my servants “ and handmaids, in those days I will pour forth my Spirit.” (Joel ii. 28, 29 ; (Acts ii. 17), 18.) How often did our blessed Redeemer repeat his most solemn promises of sending his Holy Ghost the Comforter? (John vii. 37 ; et seq. xiv. 16 ; et seq. xv. 26 ; xvi. 7 ; et seq. xx. 22 ; (Luke xxiv. 49) (Acts i. 4) ; et seq. ii. 38.) And in how wonderful a manner did he accomplish this promise in his Apostles, and in all who open their hearts to receive this divine gift to the end of the world? (Acts ii. 1; et seq. viii. 15; et seq. x« 44, 45 ; xiii. 2, 3, 4, 9, 52 ; xv. 7, 8 ; xix. 2, 6 ; (Rom. v. 5) (1 Cor. ii. 12), 13 ; et (2 Cor. v. 5) (Gal. iii. 5), 14 ; (Eph. i. 13) ; et 1 Pet. u

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11, 12; et (1 John iii. 24) ; iv. 13.) Christ, at the infinite price of our redemption, purchased for us the graces of the remission of sin, and of our sanctification, opened to us the gates of heaven* and by our reconciliation re-established us in the fellowship with God, and with his holy angels ; he instituted and established his church mili- tant on eartp, enriched with the most sublime and excellent priest- hood, the most adorable sacrifice, the most holy sacraments, and other most powerful means of grace and virtue. But leaving the earth himself, he sent the Holy Ghost as the Comforter, of equal power and dignity, to finish this great work, not only by the full revelation and promulgation of the whole law of the gospel* in his descent on the Apostles at Pentecost, and by replenishing them with his outward gifts and inward graces ; but also by abiding with his church to the end of time, governing it, shedding his beams upon all who are dis- posed to receive their influence, and pouring abroad his Spirit upon them, moving, strengthening, and directing them, by toe secret operations of bis grace. It is, therefore, his province to call and ap- point the officers, or ministers of his church ; fitting each to his proper functions or ministry, by peculiar graces. Thus he diversifies Doth his outward and inward gifts. As to the latter, though each saint is possessed, in an heroic degree, of every Christian virtue, yet each has usually some characteristical virtue, by which he is parti- cularly distinguished, and by which he more eminently studies to glorify God, and accomplish his own sanctification. This variety in the gifts of the Holy Ghost sets off the beauty of the church, both in her hierarchy and outward functions, and in the inward virtues and graces of all the saints, of which the Psalmist says : “ All the glory of “ the King’s daughter is within ; in golden borders, clothed round ** about with varieties,” (Ps. xliv. 14,) or robes of various lustre and colours. In heaven the several orders of blessed spirits differ in their

graces and functions, and each particularly expresses and glorifies some peculiar attribute of the Deity : some his love, others his know- ledge, some his supreme dominion and power, &c. Nay, St. Thomas Aquinas imagines every individual among the myriads of angels to constitute a distinct species. The grounds indeed of that opinion are not drawn from clear revelation; and the nature of spirits is an object out of the reach of sense, and not to be searched in its depths by reason. But whatever may be said ou that point, it is most certain, that the glory and beauty of the heavenly Jerusalem derive a peculiar lustre from the transcendent order and variety of its glorified inhabitants, differing from each other in their perfections imd functions, (though all centre in the same love of God,) as in the firmament stars differ from stars in brightness and magnitude. (1 Cor. xv. 41.) In like manner the church militant on earth admirably is diversified by the different orders and employs of its members, and by the gifts and graces with which they are adorned. All are not Apostles :* all are not Prophets: all are not Teachers: nor have all the same gifts, (Ephes. iv. 11,) as Si. Paul observes. The same Apostle says in anotner place, (Ephes. iv. 16, et Ephes. iL 21,) that Christ the head instituted this variety of offices and officers

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ill his churchy to continue to the end of the world, for maintaining unity, preserving from error and seduction, preventing instability Of mind, and unsettledness of judgment, confirming persons in re- vealed truths, converting sinners, perfecting the saints, and edifying the body of Christ or the church. Making use of a metaphor drawn from a building, he says t that the Spirit of Christ, by these officers, every one performing his respective duty in his rank and office, ac- cording to the proportion of the influence of the Spirit, and gift received, firmly uniteth and fasteneth together all the members of tile church, and augmenteth the continual growth of the Saints in graee. “ From whom, «• e. Christ, the whole body compacted and 44 fitly joined together, by what every joint supplieth, according to 44 the operation in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the 44 body, unto tho edifying of itself in charity.” Admirable likewise ie the diversity of the gifts of the Holy Ghost in the particular members, some being called and fitted to glorify God in a contem- plative, others in an active life, and outward works of charity ; some by martyrdom ; some in a state of virginity ; others in holy wedlock, &c. 14 There are diversities of graces, but the same Spirit ; and 44 there are diversities of operations, but the same God who worketh 44 all in all. In all these things one and the same Spirit worketh, 44 dividing to every one according as he sees good.” (1 Cor. xii. 4, 0, 11.) Often in the same exercises, the Holy Ghost, by his secret attractive graces, gives various dispositions, and predominant incli- nations, to different interior virtues, by which the same God is honoured in all. One will choose principally humility, another obedience, meekness, fraternal charity, or some other virtue, in which, above others, he will bend his most earnest endeavours to excel; by which he will study continually to overcome, and to die to himself more and more perfectly ; to which he will reduce the practice of other virtues, and make perpetually large steps towards perfection in them all. This may be exemplified by a fami- liar instance. A person, who visited a certain holy monastery, was much edified with the private conversation he had with the devout Monks, and particularly admired the various predominant dis- positions of devotion in which the same eminent Spirit of prayer dis- covered itself. It is true all offered to God every sacrifice of devotion by which we pay him the rational homage of our hearts ; but every one seemed particularly to affect and delight in one above the rest. Some placed in Spirit at the foot of his throne, employed themselves to the most profound acts of adoration, awe and praise, contemplating his eternity, his immensity, omnipotence, mercy and other attributes, together, or one after another, or sometimes singling one above the test, as with the Seraphims adoring his sanetity, covering their frees out of awe with their wings, and crying : Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Sabaoth ! Others, having always in view the excess of the divine goodness and love, and the immense and numberless pledges he has given us in his benefits and mercies, burned with the most ardent affections of pure love, repeating with their whole hearts, My God and my til l Others penetrated with a deep sense of gra*

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titude for his benefits, said often : what return shall I make for all the good things he has done for me ? I will accept the cup of salvation and bear cheerfully all the crosses he shall lay on me. And I will love thee, O God, my strength and my all ! Some bowed under the weight of his judgments, and penetrated with deep compunction for their sins, ceased not with unutterable sighs and groans to implore the divine mercy. Others made humility or some other particular virtue, the special object of their most earnest petitions. These and all other supernatural virtues were the special gifts of the same divine Spirit, who was the strength and sweet comfort of all the martyrs, the light of the Apostles, and the sanctifier of all the holy Virgins, Confessors, and other Saints. The reign of divine grace and virtue in so many chaste souls, and all the beauty and glory of the church is his work. He cleansed these souls from sin, presented them without spot or wrinkle, and adorned them with his choicest and most precious gifts. In them he is Author of a new creation, of a new spiritual world, the lustre of which, though invisible to carnal eyes, is most glorious in the sight of heaven. The Royal Prophet, in the 103rd Psalm, after praising God with the most profound sentiments of adoration and thanks- giving, for the wonderful works of his providence, in the creation and administration of the universe, raises his eyes above this material world, and the whole order of nature, to contemplate the new spiri- tual creation, and in a transport of admiration and thanksgiving cries out: “ Thou shalt send forth thy Spirit, and they shall be created: “ and thou shalt renew the face of the earth.” (Ps. ciii. 30.) Of this new spiritual creation the first forming of the world out of nothing was but an emblem. This prediction and its accomplishment, this great and astonishing mystery, this wonderful work of the Holy Ghost, this new spiritual creation, regards not only the whole church ; but also every faithful soul in particular. In every individual and private Christian it ought to be accomplished.

This divine Spirit, this sweet Comforter, this distributer of all hea- venly gifts, we received with his sanctifying grace at baptism. By the infused habits of tbe theological virtues, we were at the same time raised to the society of the blessed Spirits, and made already inhabitants in spirit, or m our hearts and affections, of the heavenly Jerusalem, to which sanctifying grace entitled us, and with which it gave us a fellowship and communion. By their repeated acts and con- tinual exercise in devout prayer, we are separated from, and raised above all creatures, and united to God. By faith we behold God, the mysteries of his mercy, and the riches of eternity. By hope, our hearts aspire after, and cleave to God, as our last end and sovereign felicity. By charity we are closely united to God, as the sovereign good, the author and source of all good. By the beatitudes, and the gifts and fruits of the Holy Ghost, we are assisted with ease to exer- cise our powers, in the exercise of the most heroic acts of virtue, and regulate and govern our own hearts. Thus, by possessing the Holy Ghost, we are made altogether spiritual. If this change is in us very imperfect, it is because we open . not our hearts to this divine guest, by the necessary preparation and dispositions, and labour not with

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'due earnestness continually to improve them. It is not enough for us to possess the Holy Ghost, unless he reign in our souls. He abides in a Christian by sanctifying grace : but for him to establish the king- dom of his grace and love in us, all affection even to venial sin and imperfection must be banished, and every faculty and affection sub- jected to the empire of his love, which is made the ruling principle, the spirit, and the life of the whole man ; of all his powers, faculties, and senses ; of all his thoughts, words, and actions. Such a Chris- tian may say with S. Paul : “ I live now, not I ; but Christ liveth “ in me,” (Gal. ii. 20,) that is, his Spirit ruleth and governed in me, his love, his humility, his meekness, his modesty, reign in my heart, in my eyes, in all my actions and desires. Of such Christ declares : “ The kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke xvii. 21.) This is the object of our prayer, when we say : “ Thy kingdom come.” But how far are we from this happy state? Does not the spirit of the world discover itself in us by secret pride, envy, jealousy, covetousness, sensuality, and other carnal works and affections? It is only upon the ruin of this spirit that a spiritual temple can be raised to the Holy Ghost in our hearts. His enemy must be expelled before he can take possession. The obstacles must be removed before he can be introduced. The kingdom of Christ is not of this world. (John xviii. 36 (Mark x. 25).) The kingdom of God belongs only to the poor in spirit, (Matt. iii. 5,) the meek, the humble, and those who retain the simplicity of little children. (Matt. xix. 14.) The heart must be cleansed from the stain and guilt of sin; (Wisd. i. 4;) must be disengaged; 1st, From all affection to the least venial sin, or habi- tual imperfection. 2ndly, From all inordinate attachment to the world. (1 John ii. 15, 16 ; (Gal. vi. 14) (John xiv. 17) ; viii. 23.}

3rdly, From whatever weds the soul to the senses. (Gal. v. 24.)

And 4thly, From self-love. (Luke ix. 2 (John xii.24) (Matt. xvi. 24) ; x. 38, 39.) This is the purport of that lesson so strongly incul- cated by our divine Redeemer and his apostles, in every part of the Gospel dispensation, as the preliminary article in the service of God, that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent alone bear it away; (Matt. xi. 12 ;) that we must be crucified to the old man, to the desires of the world, and appetites of the flesh ; and must renounce and die to ourselves, to the inordinate lusts of our own will, and love

of self. (Rom. viii. 13 (Luke xiv. 26) (Gal. ii. 19) ; v. 2.) Without

this previous condition, no one is fit for the kingdom of God, (Luke ix. 62,) having dispositions opposite to it, by which he is entirely in- capable of receiving that grace, or being raised to that happiness. It is true, this cleansing and crucifixion is completed by the visit of the Holy Ghost, and by devout prayer. But he requires our con- currence by penance, self-denial, diligent self-examination, humility, meekness, and the victory over ourselves and our passions. If we bring these dispositions, or at least an unfeigned desire of them, we may with confidence address ourselves to the Father of lights, the Author of all good gifts, (James i. 17,) and the Father of spirits. (Heb. xii. 10.) We cannot expect to be heard, or to inherit his bless- ings, whilst we are obstinately wedded to, and filled with what is quite

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contrary to his spirit, and wholly unsubmissive to his guidance aitd direction.

The Holy Ghost himself will remove the obstacles out of oar hearts, if we are not wanting. How desperate soever our wounds may be* how great soever our weakness and miseries, he can at once re- store us to perfect health and strength. The maxims of spiritual wis- dom are very hard to the prudenee of the flesh. “ But where a God “ is the master, how quickly is every thing learned that is taught,” says 8. Leo*4 And 6. Gregory the Great,4 u I lift up my eyes, and ad* “ mire the omnipotent influence of the divine Spirit. I contemplate “ David, Amos, Daniel, Peter, Paul, and Matthew, and am trans* “ ported beyond myself with astonishment. He fills a boy whose skill “ consisted in touching his harp, and he makes him a psalmist. He M fills a shepherd, and makes him a prophet. He fills a persecutor, “ and makes him the doctor of nations. He fills a publican, and “ makes him an evangelist. What a wonderful master is this Spirit ? u Elisreus says S. Chryostom,c inherited the double spirit which God 44 had communicated to his master Elias. But Christ, asoending into '* Heaven, by sending the Holy Ghost, has made a great number of M of Elisseuses j nay, Elis&uses much greater and more illustrious than u was that prophet”

Penetrated with a deep sense of the depth 6f our wounds, wants, and miseries, let us display them before the eyes of him who alone can comfort and relieve ust they are extreme, and cannot fail to excite his tender pity and mercy.

You are infinitely compassionate, O true comforter of souls, which you created : behold now in my soul an object fit for the exercise of the whole extent of your mercy. This heart you framed out of no- thing, and came from Heaven to seek, wretched, ungrateful, and in- sensible as it is become ; suffer me to approach in spirit, and lay it at the foot of your throne, that the sight of its frightful disorders and distresses may stir up the bowels of your tender compassion and mercy. Your love wants not motives to engage you to exert your omnipo- tence and your goodness in healing and restoring your own choice and favourite work. Blinded in my understanding, I have hitherto wan- dered in the mazes of error, and the false maxims of the world. Open my eyes that I may now discern the brightness of your truth in the adorable mysteries of your love and merey, and in the practical maxims of all perfect virtue, and the saving science of the cross. My heart is over-run with disorders, and defiled in every affection. Hitherto I have been an idolater of myself, by pride ; an idolater of my flesh, by firing enslaved to my senses } and an idolater of the world and its mammon of iniquity, by covetousness and vanity. These idols I renounce from my heart. With regret I call to mind, how often and how perfidiously I have broken the solemn vows I made in baptism, when I was enrolled amongst your children. With the most sincere sorrow and detestation, I confess my baseness and

* & Loo, Sen*. 73* do Pfent. eap. 2. p. 73.

b S. Greg. M. Horn. 83. m Evaag. infestum Pentoc.

• 8. Cfcrys. Serin, in Ascens.

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Ch. VI.] WH!TITOTOE«

ingratitude. Reroe my heart more And more deeply, and give a fountain of tears to my eyes, that I may never cease deploring my criminal life, and the disorders of ray heart under which I still groan. I renew my baptismal engagements, consecrating myself for ever- more, without reserve, to your holy love and service. Heal the wounds of my soul, cleanse my heart and faculties, subdue all my af- fections to the reign of your holy love, strengthen my weakness, sanctify and consecrate my soul and body with all their powers and senses, replenish me with your most holy and pure love, and every grace and virtue, and reign in me without control. You are love and goodness itself : you desire with infinite ardour to communicate your- self to me. Dilate my heart, that I may never cease to invite, and conjure you to visit and establish your sweet and glorious reign in me. “ I opened my mouth, and panted because I longed for thy com- “ mandments.” (Ps. cxviii. 131.)

Surin, AvriUon, and other pious authors, have compiled pathetic prayers for each beatitude, and each gift and fruit of the Holy Ghost : Others for each moral virtue, with suitable meditations. The prose, Veni Sancte Spiritus, may be daily recited for establishing the per- fect reign of the Spirit of divine love in our hearts. It is explained in a long beautiful paraphrase,* by F. Valois. k

The remembrance of the descent of the Holy Ghost on the apos- tles, and the most precious graces with which he enriched them, must awake in our souls a fervent desire of preparing and disposing our souls to receive him ourselves in the most abundant effusion of his graces and gifts. He prevents ns ; he invites us ; he burns with an infinite desire of visiting us, and making our hearts his holy temple and abode. Let us be careful to bring the most perfect dispositions, and not by neglect “ to quench the Spirit in us." ( (1 Thess. v. 10).)

* The prove Veni Sancte Spiritus is attributed by some to blessed Notker the stammerer, a learned monk of St Gall in the tenth century ; but Ekkerard the younger, in his prolix inaccurate life of Notker, published by the Bollandists on the 6th of April, only makes him author of another sequence of the Holy Ghost, which begins with the words Sancti Spiritus adsit Nobis Gratia , which be pretends to hare been sent to king Charles the fat, and that this prince sent him in return, the famous hymn Veni Creator, all which is utterly groundless. This author ex- pressly ascribes the prose Veni Sancte Spiritus , to Pope innocent III. See Hist, liter, dela France, 10 Siecle,p. 139. <fe Ceiller, T. xix. p. 604. Notker indeed, who died in 912, wrote several pious proses or sequences, printed amongst his works. Robert, the pious king of France, who died in 1031, was the author of several like sequences ; amongst others, that on the Ascension ; Rex omnipotent die hodiemS, winch Clichtovens has published with a Commentary. The same Editor, with William of Malmsbury, and others, ascribes to him thAt on the Holy Ghost, Sancti Spiritus adsit Nobis Gratia, which Baillet gives to Notker. Duranti, Tri- themius, cardinal Bona, and some others seem to have confounded it with the ex- cellent prose Veni Sancte Spiritus, Sf emitte, <fco. when they attributed this to king Robert. Some also ascribe it to Hennannus Contractus, who died in the Odour of Sanctity in 1054. But Pope Innocent III., who died in 1216, is generally al- lowed to have been the anthor, as is proved by Merati, in Gavant, part 2. T. i. p. 1216. The same is affirmed by Benedict XIV. De Festis Christi D, § 519 ; by the Maurist monks in their Hist. Liter, de la France, Vie dm Roi Robert, p. 929 ; also by Mabillon, Actor. Bened. T. vii. pp. 19, 20, <fe Anecd, T. i. p. 27.

b Oeuvres Spiritualles du P. le Valois, T. iv« p. 110.

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[Tm. IX.

We must invite him with all his gifts ; first of all that of compunc- tion and prayer, .lecessary to introduce the rest, “ Create in me a “ clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit in my bowels.” (Ps. 1. 12.) We know not the evil that reigns in our own hearts: a Ava- “ rice, theft, impurity, pride, foolishness,” &c. (Mark vii. 21, 22.) David knew not nimself in the portraiture which Nathan showed him, (2 Reg. xii. 5,) till the prophet convinced him by personal reproaches. We must intreat the all searching Spirit of God, to discover to us the secret malice and passions which we disguise to ourselves, with a full conviction of their heniousness, to penetrate us to the quick, with deep compunction for every crime, and strengthen us to pluck up, and extirpate the least root aud fibre, that they may not grow up again ; and cleanse our souls so as to render them a temple worthy to receive him, which is infinite purity and sanctity itself.

What motives does this great mystery furnish for spiritual joy, adoration, thanksgiving, love, and praise? In it the Holy Ghost, the third person of the adorable Trinity, is bestowed on man. The decree of our redemption, and all its fruits, all divine graces which are conferred upon us, are the work of the whole blessed Trinity. Whatever effects God produces out of himself, or in creatures, he produces by his will, a property of the divine nature common to all the three persons. But there are certain internal actions peculiar to each person, called by theologians immanent, or indwelling actions. Such is that by which the Father produces, or sends forth the Son ; and the Father and the Son produce the Holy Ghost ; that by which the Son proceeds from the Father, and the Holy Ghost from the Father and Son ; that by which the Son assumes, and hypostatically unites in his person his human nature ; and in like manner, that by which the Holy Ghost descended upon the Apostles. Yet, as S. Leo justly cautions us,* we are not erroneously to imagine that the figures, or emblems, either of the wind, or of the tongues of fire, were the substance of the Holy Ghost: “ For he showed his office “ and his operations, by what sign he pleased, but hid his essence in “ his divinity,” says this Father. These emblems were but the visible signs of his presence and operations. Nay, the graces produced in the souls of the Apostles by this mystery were the work of the whole blessed Trinity, through the Holy Ghost, by an immanent action, in what is called his descent, concurred in this mystery. Thus is our redemption and salvation, the most merciful and great work of the whole messed Trinity : and moreover, each person in particular, had a part in it. The Father by an immanent action, sent forth his Son to redeem us, and the Father and Son sent the Holy Ghost, for our sanctification : the Son by assuming our nature, and dying for us, paid our ransom, and the Holy Ghost descended to promulge the new law of grace and consummate the great work of our sanctification. “ It was not enough,” says an holy abbot, a disciple of S. Bernard, b “ for God to have given his Son to redeem man, a slave, if he did “ not moreover send his Spirit, to adopt this slave, and make him his

* S. Leo* Serm. 73. de Pentec. c. 3. b Gnerricni Abbas, Sena, 1. in Pent*

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“ child. And he has given himself entire to be the inheritance of “ those whom he has made his adopted children. How prodigal is “ God, not only of his gifts, but also of himself, for the love of man ! “ Is he not truly prodigal ? Whom has he spared, not his own Son, “ but delivered him up for us ? So he also bestowed on us the Holy “ Ghost, by a new and astonishing prodigy of mercy, pouring him “ forth upon all flesh.” As our Lord said to Nicodemus: “God “ hath so loved the world, as to give his only Son,” (John iii. 16,) so we may truly say : so hath God loved the world, as to rive the Holy Ghost, who is not less great, or less God, than the Father or the Son. All the good of which the Father is the source or principal, he has communicated to us. Can we ever sufficiently acknowledge so excessive a goodness? Shall not all our faculties and powers, all our actions and thoughts, glorify him for ever and ever ? Penetrated with a deep sense of his infinite mercy and love, shall we not exert our whole strength, in loving and praising him ? Shall we not give ourselves entire to him, who has given us so much, even himself, infi- nite as he is ? a O obstinate ! O hard adamai^ine and insensible “ children of Adam ! whom such an excess of love does not soften, “ such a fire of immense love does not warm !” cries out S. Bernard.* Immense is the condescension and goodness of the divine Spirit in his visit, in which he gives us himself : and with himself he bestows upon us every spiritual and good gift. (Ps. lxvii. 10 (Eph. iv. 8).)

Cf )t Centf) erratic

ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

CHAP. I.

On the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity .

Chbi8T our Lord, before his ascension into Heaven, commissioned his apostles to go .and preach to all nations the adorable mystery of the Trinity, and to baptize those who should believe in him : “ In the “ name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” (Matt, xxviii. 19.) These words alone suffice to confound the Arians, Socinians, and all other ancient and modern enemies of this funda- mental article of the Christian faith. By saying : In the name , he expresses the unity of God in these three distinct persons. And indeed every page both of the old and new Testament proclaims that there is only one God, and that there can be no more. This truth is evident to reason itself. Two beings absolutely infinite, and two universal sources of perfection imply a contradiction. Moreover, two free all-powerful beings destroy each other ? for the power of

• 0 duriy $ obdurati $ indurati filit Adam quos non emollit tanta benigniUu ! tanta flammay tam ingens ardor Amofis l 3, Bern. Semi. 2. in Pent. n. 2.

Tmwra* smiH

one would be restrained, and his counsels discovered by the other. Also the uniform design of the universe proclaims one only Author and Ruler. Whence Tertullian says s u There can be no God unless « he be one/* And S. Athanasius affirms polytheism to be in its consequences atheism> That in this most single strict unity in God, there is a Trinity of really distinct subsisting persons, is what the same words of Christ clearly teach us. Reason, indeed, can never attain this high mystery, as Christ himself sufficiently declares, Matt, xi. 27 ; xvi. 17. And to affirm it to be demonstrable by reason, as Peter Abailard, Serjeant, and the Chevalier Ramsey have pretended, is not only an error ; but downright madness. The patriarchs and prophets in the old law, and the more learned Jews, knew and believed the Trinity, which God sometimes discovered to them by speaking of himself in the plural number, as (Gen. i. 26) ; iii. 22 ; xi. 7 ; distinguishing the Lord raining fire from the Lord, that is the second person from the first, (Gen. xix. 24,) and declaring the eternal genera- tion of the Son, (Ps. ii. 11; Hebr.i. 5; Ps. cix 1 ;) Ac. Likewise by various types and figures understood by the prophets. S. Cyprian remarks [1. de. Or. Dom.] that “ we find three children with Daniel, “ strong in faith, keeping in prayer the third, sixth, and ninth hour, by a type of the Trinity which was to be manifested in the latter “ times.” Christ testifies that Abraham and the other prophets saw him to come, and rejoiced thereat. (Matt. xiii. 17 (John viii. 56).) From which passage S. Ambrose and others infer, that they knew the Trinity ; which is the express doctrine of Origen, S. Epiphanius, S. Austin, Theodoret, &c. But the entire distinct, explicit faith of the Trinity, was not commonly known to the vulgar Jews; or they could not have accused Christ of blasphemy, when he called himself the son of God, (John v. 18) ; and they would have understood how the Messias was to be David’s Lord, (Matt. xxii. 41). The Socinians object that God speaks in the plural number, (Gen. i. 26), for the sake of dignity, as lungs do. But what king ever uses the plural number to express his own personal action, as we eat , or the like ? Nor were there such expressions used even in edicts in that age ih which genu- ine simplicity reigned : others answer that he speaks to the angels » a ridiculous shuffle, as Tertullian, S. Basil, ana Theodoret showed against the Jews : for man was not created to the likeness of the ang els, nor did God employ them in forming him, whose crea- tion he expressly ascribes totally to himself, (Gen. i. 2) ; v. 1 ; Mai. ii. 10, &c.

God was pleased to prepare the world gradually to receive his most profound mysteries. The Incarnation of his Son cannot be understood without the belief of the Trinity ; and Christ has often expressly delivered it in the new Testament, in which we read at every turn of three distinct subsisting persons in the Godhead : arid S. John teaches them to be three in neaven. (1 John v. 7«) This must mean, not a moral union in giving the same testimony, as below,

* “ Dens si non nnns est, non est. Tertul. 1. i. contra Morcion, c. iii. 367. b Ti)v TToXvOeorijTa dOedrqra uvau S. A than. Or. contra Gentes, n. 38% $. i. p. 37. ed. Ben.

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but a strict unity of the divine nature in them, os other texts plainly peeve. A real distinction of the persons is implied by the same words i for one who should bear testimony by distinct properties alone, could not constitute three witnesses in Heaven, as S. John says there are in the Godhead. The Socinians grant the Son to be a distinct witness from the Father, and blasphemously pretend him to be so far distinct as not to be of the same divine nature with him, but a mere man. It is then an inconsistency when they call the Holy Ghost a mere property of the Father, not distinct from him : for he is no less mentioned in this and in several other places of the new Testament as a real subsisting person than the Son, aa in the form of baptism. We cannot be baptized in the name of a simple quality. The Holy Ghost “ teaches, (John xiv. 15); gives evidence, (John xv. 26); 44 reveals hidden truths, (1 Tim. iv. 1); searches the secret things 44 of God, (1 Cor. xi. 10); works and divides the gifts of God as he <4 pleases, 1 Gar. xiiL 1 1 ; proceeds from the Father, Johnxiv, 16 $ xv* 44 26, 27 ; appears, Matt, iih 17 } Acts iL 3." Now, actions can only be ascribed to persons. Likewise, he is called Jehovah or the great God, Isa. vL 9; (Acts xxviii. 25) (Acts v. 3) (Matt. xii. 32). The incommunicable essential attributes of God belong to him, as immea* sity. Wisdom L 7 ; (Ps. cxxxviii. 7) (1 Cor. iii. 16) and 1 1 ; (2 Cor. xiii. 13). Omniscience, (John xvi. 13); 1 Cor. iL 10. Omnipotence, (Ps. xxxii. 6) (Luke i. 35). Creation, (Gen. i. 2) ; Ps. xxxiL 6. Conserve* tion of creatures, (Ps. ciii. 30). Miracles, (Matt. xii. 26) (1 Cor. xii. 4). The conception of Christ, (Luke i. 35). Hia unction and mission, (Isa. lxi. 1). The forgiveness of sins, (1 Cor. vii. 11). The government of the church, (Acts xiii. 2) ; xv. 28. The conferring of gifts, (1 Cor. xii. 7). Sanctification of souls, Ephes. i. 17 ; 2 Thee. iL 12 ; 1 Pet. L % The diffusion of charity, (Rom. v. 5). The resurrection of the dead, (Rom. viii. 2), &e. The apostolic tradition of the chureh in regard to the mystery of the holy consubetantial Trinity is clear from the two first general councils.

Without knowing the Holy Trinity we cannot understand the incarnation of the Son of God, or the mystery of our redemption. These mysteries are the basis and the fundamental articles of over* faith. It is the practise of missionaries among infidels first te preach the beautiful precepts of morality, which our divine religion teaches, and not to expound these mysteries or Sacraments to those who have not been previously prepared to receive such divine truths, as Lewis of Granada explains in his instructions for suck missions, and as we may observe in the apologies of the ancient fathers. Holy things are not te be exposed to derisioa. This sublime doctrine is not te be preached to those who are yet incapable of it : yet without it none are Chris* tians. The great mysteries of the Unity and Trinity el God, and of the incarnation and death of our Saviour, are the fundamental truths of our holy religion: and many learned divines teach an explicit dis* tinct faith, of each of them to be indispensably necessary, so that no invincible ignorance can supply the want of it, aad no one in any such ’ ignorance in any of those articles can be capable of salvation, or of the grace of justification. 44 This k life everlasting, that they 44 know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thqubast sent.*

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(John xvii. 3.) “ Go ye therefore, teach all nations, baptising them in the “ name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. He << who shall believe and be baptized, shall be saved : but he who shall u not believe shall be condemned.” (Mark xvi.) Hence, the utmost care is necessary, that all children and others be instructed in those holy articles, without the distinct knowledge of which they cannot be Christians, or receive the grace or effects of any sacrament, or the crown of immortal glory. And all Christians are bound to make fre- quent distinct acts of faith in these holy mysteries, which we profess in our creeds, and honour in all the practices of our holy religion, especially by the holy sign of the cross, by which we are taugnt to begin and end our prayers and all our actions. In these mysteries we are baptized and made Christians.

This mystery of the Trinity is so revealed to us, as to remain still obscure and impenetrable to us. God would be no longer infinite, if his nature could be fathomed or described by any limited creatures, how perfect soever ; much less by us in our present imperfect state of trial, in which nothing is more suitable to us than an exercise of our faith and a sacrifice of our reason captivated in submission to God’s word, and nothing more glorious to God than our silent adora- tion of his incomprehensible nature : “Non potest aliquid dignum de “ Deo dici : quia hoc ipso indignum est, quod potest dici.” Yet it is necessary that we should say something of him, whence we may learn that he cannot be expressed. “ Sed necesse est ut aliquid dicas, “ ut sit unde cogites quod non potest dici,” says S. Austin. What then is the Trinity ?

God is one in an indivisible nature, without any parts or division of whatsoever denomination, and incapable of any composition even in the mind, being even in thought the most simple , and the most single, and the most one , as S. Bernard says, (1. v. de Cons. c. 7.) For any parts or composition in the conception of God destroys the very idea of him, being repugnant to his infinite and to his essential unity and simplicity : yet he is three in persons really distinct in the same na- ture, all subsisting real and perfectly equal in all things, being by the • unity of their nature, will, and individual operation, one and the same God, the Father, and the Son, and Holy Ghost. A Trinity of persons, who enjoy from eternity to eternity, the reciprocal contemplation and infinite love of all perfection in themselves and their common undi- vided nature, and in the mutual relation of their persons. For though they are not three Gods, but one only God, yet in the same numerical most simple essence or nature, they are three really distinct persons, equally infinite, co-essential, co-eternal, and in all respect co-equal. Each person is omnipotent, eternal, and infinite in every perfection ; yet are they but one omnipotent, eternal and infi- nite, because they subsist in the same undivided nature ; consequently have but one and the same undivided numerical will and mind or un- derstanding, and one and the same operation in all things which they decree or produce without themselves, or as theologians express it, ad extra : yet, they exert a necessary, eternal, personal, inward ope- ration, called ad intra ; and an immanent or in-dwelling operation, by which they produce a real term within their own nature, to which the

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three persons mutually stand in area] opposite relation* Namely, the Father produces the Son, and by this necessary action the Son eternally proceeds, and is derived from the Father* Again, the Fa- ther and Son are one principle, from which the Holy Ghost proceeds* Every thing in God is numerically one and the same, except where the relative opposition of these three terms or persons intervenes, which yet are tne same God in one numerical divine substance or nature* The Son proceeds from the Father by the intellect; the Holy Ghost from the Father and the Son by the will ; these being the two operating powers which we in our mind distinguish in the simplicity of the divine nature ; and more processions in God than these, there cannot be. The Father by knowing and comprehending himself and all his infinite perfections, produces tne eternal subsisting word of the divine mind, tne true image of himself, his divine and consubstantial Son. When a created understanding apprehends or conceives any object, it forms within itself an image of that object, which ima^e phi- losophers call the word of the mind (or the idea) to distinguish it from the outward word or expression, by which we manifest our concep- tions to others. This word of the mind is in us a mere mode* or ac- cident, not a real subsistence, or entity which subsists of itself. God being essentially unchangeable, cannot be the subject of any mode or accident ; in him nothing can rise new, nothing can perish or depart ; he cannot undergo the least alteration, to which created spirits are continually subject by the accession and removal of accidental quali- ties, and by passions of ioy, sadness, and by sin, or the like : and bo- dies much more, not only by qualities ; but also by some change in the situation or disposition of tne parts* Therefore, no act of tne divine mind can be, or produce any kind of mode. But the Father by his infinite knowledge of himself, produces an inward Word of the mind, which is a true subsistence or person, b the express image and most perfect resemblance of himself, “ the brightness of his glory, and the “ figure (or representation) of his substance.” (Heb. i. 3.) God the Father is looked upon as the overflowing source of light, or the great sun, whose light and benign influences are every where diffused, and can never fail. The Word, or second person, is the radiant splen- dor, and astonishing light, flowing from that Father of lights by an ineffable generation ; tne emanation of his original glory, and the splendor of that abyss of light, springing from him without being

i * A mode is that which cannot subsist in and of itself ; but is always esteemed as belonging to, end subsisting by, the help of some substance, which is its sub- ject. It is always a real entity ; but not always really distinct from its subject For example, the posture of the body is a real entity, but not an entity really distinct from the body.

b Person in logic and metaphysic, signifies a thinking intelligent subsistence, at in men. Subsistence is a more general word, which agrees also to brutes and inanimate beings ; and is the last act or term of individuation which renders a particular substance complete, and numerically incommunicable to any other. A subsistence, in this proper metaphysical sense, called in Greek Hypostasis^ is different from substance , and is the individuating act or term of each particular individual or numerical substance, as of this particular man. Subsistence is sometimes taken in a very different sense, for substance itself, called in Greek Usiaf or for the proper modification of substance, by which it subeists by itself*

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pjmd«d by bis* without any inferiority to him, any dimunition ef turn, any the least alteration of his mast simple and moat perfect uaiea with him. The original Greek word for brightens, mum place rig* niftea not a beam, or ray, or portion of light ; but a shining forth of the whole light of the mu collectively | and expresses, that all the in* comprehensible glory of the Father shines forth in Christ his Son, without any inferiority, either in time, dignity, or perfection $ the Father and $on being persons really distinct from each other, yet of one and the same essence, co-eternal and inseparable. This word also expresses, that as the sun communicates to us its light and influence by ita beams, so doth the Father manifest himself, and communicate hts goodness to us through bis Son. In allusion to this text, aauNtt others, the Nicene Fathers represent the eternal generation of God the Son, by calling him Light of Light .

The original word for Jtgurey or image, signifietb the stamp or print of a thing ongraved, the Son being the perfect image of the Father, net by a bare likeness or resemblance 1 but by an ineffable, most aim* pie, and perfect union with him in the identity of his nature, and by the communication of his essence, and all his perfections, in his own absolute fulness i so that tho Son is not a whit inferior to that all* perfect original from which ho flows * and the Father, beholding him* self in him, views all the beauties, and all the riches, of his most per* feet and happy nature, and in the full blaze of his glory, so bright and immense as to dazzle the most pure and strong eyes of toe highest Seraphim f no creature can be made able to sustain it* This light darkens end obscures aU other lights, which disappear and vanish at its astonishing brightness. We adore him in the dwlings of history, darting the beams of bis light upon aU creatures, and beg that be may enlighten our eyes, purify our neerts, and reide our weak and wag* during steps in the way of everlasting life | that he impress and stamp upon our souls the strokes of bis inoooenc* purity, and sanctity, that we may bear his image so deeply fixed as never more to be de&ced t that he destroy in us whatever belongs to the old man, aad engrave his holy will and love upon our hearts in indelible character* as be is the indelible character, or image, of the substance of hie Father.

Heooe we see why God the Son is celled the Word of God,* his reason and speeeh i also the light and the increatod wisdom* Under this character, the ancient prophets often magnify his greatness, and set forth his eternity and other attributes. « The Lord possessed * me in the beginning of his ways, before ho made any thing from “ the beginning, I was set up from eternity, and of old before too " earth was made. The depths were not as yet, and I was already com H ceived.” (Prov.viH.S2, 23, 24.) « When be prepared the heavens a I was there : when with a certain law and compass he enclosed the “ depths, 1 was with him forming all things j and was delighted every u day, playing before him at all times. Playing in the world ; and my u delight is to be with the children of men.* (Ib. v. 27, 30. See Wbd* vih 25, 26, 27j ix. 9.) To this inereated wisdom, on account fleeCwm aU^igdsamifL

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of the peculiar propriety of his procession and person are attributed all created works and lessons of wisdom, of which the Holy Trinity, or Triune God, is the author and principle. (Ecclus. i. 1, &c.)

That the Son of God, the increated wisdom, is truly God, of the same substance with the Father, is clearly proved from his works and attributes, which are those of the Deity. The creation and conserva- tion of all things are the distinguishing character of the divinity, aud in the very idea of both these actions, almighty power and sovereign independent fight are Included. For the distance between nothing and real being or existence is infinite, and the highest created power can only exercise its action upon a subject pre-existing. It is only in the hands of omnipotence that nothingness can be made fruitful : only his trill can call forth into existence what had no being. And creation carries with it the most absolute sovereignty over, and an independent right to dispose of at pleasure, even to annihilate what received from it its whole being. The same is to be said of the con- servation of creatures, which, as they cannot give themselves a being, so do they require for their continuance in being, each moment, the same efficacious Influence of the divine will, which is the efficient cause of all things. Now in producing man, and other things, God uses words in the plural number, (Gen. i. 26,) which cannot be an expression of dignity in personal actions, particularly in the Mosaic age of simplicity m speech and manners. ct Let us make man to our “ image and likeness.” Neither could this be addressed to angels* who could no way be fellow workers, nor be possessed of ihfirute know- ledge. Of them he could not say, (Gen. iii. 22; xi. 7>) u Lo> Adam u Is become like one of us,* &c. This can only be understood to be the speech of the Triune God, or of the Father, addressed to the two persons, who in the same numerical nature are one God with him. Indeed, without allowing that the three are possessed of one and the same divine nature, and of the same essential perfections, being indl- visibly united in the same numerical substance or real essence, it is impossible to account for the work of the creation being ascribed in scripture sometimes to one, and sometimes to another of the divine persons. It is most clearly attributed to God the Son, both in the old and new Testament. (Prov. viii. 30; Ps. ci., applied to Christ by S. Paul, (Heb. x. 10); et (Col. i. 16) (Rom. i. 20) (John i. 3), 10.) It is expressly said by S. John, that the divine word is jointly with the Father, the one Creator of all things, and that without the Son, (or inseparably from him) nothing was made by the Father that was made by him. (John i. 3.) It is sometimes said, that the Father created all things in or by the Son ; (Eplu iii. 9, II \ (Heb. i. 2),) but this expression is used not to denote an instrument, but because the Son, being the word, or increated subsisting wisdom in the Godhead, the model of eternal decree of the creation in the divine mind or intellect, is said to be in or by the Son, who proceeds by the intellect. We are also said to be re- deemed or renewed and restored, in or by Christ, (Eph. ii. 10 ; iv. 24,) in hi® incarnation and death. Nay, in no natural creation can any created instrument be- employed as the cause, because no creature

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can exert even an instrumental casualty or influence, but upon a pre- existent subject, which cannot find place in creation. The Son as creator, is also the preserver of ail things, “ upholding them by “ the word of his power." (Heb. i. 3.) “All things were created by him and in him : and he is before all, and by him all thiengs consist.” (Col. i. 16, 17.) This sustaining providence is an irrefragable proof of the Deity of the Son, to whom, in like manner, all the operations of the Father are ascribed. (John v. 17, 19 ; Ps* i* 10.) We have no less clear instances of his divinity in his headship over his church, and the high functions he exercises in this quality. (Ephes. i. 20 ; ii. 10 ; Heb. xiL 2; (John v. 28); Eccles. xii. 14.) Also in the mention frequently made in the Holy Scriptures of the supreme adoration of the Deity paid to Christ. (Heb. i. 6 (Matt. ii. 1) 1 ; xxi. 15 ; (Luke xix. 40) (John xiv. 1) ; ix. 35 ; (Luke xxiv. 22) (2 Tim. i. 12) (Rom. ix. 1) (Isa. xlv.22) (Rom. xiv. 11) (Phil. ii. 10) (Isa. xi. 10) (Rom. x. 12), 13; (Acts ix. 14) (1 Cor. ii. 8) (Acts vii. 59) (1 Tim. i. 17); vi. 15, 14 ; Ephes. v. 27 ; (Apoc. i. 5), 6.)

The most essential divine attributes belong to Christ, in a proper and unlimited sense; eternity, (Prov. viii. 22 (Micah v. 2); John

i. 1 ; vii. 42 ; (Matt. ii. 6) (Heb. i. 8), 10 ; xiii. 8 ; (Ps. lxxx. 2),) immu- tability, (Heb. i. 8, 10; xiii. 8,) omnipotence, (Isa. ix. 6 (Ps. xliv. 3) (John i. 3); v. 30 ; xvi. 15 ; (Col. i. 13) (Phil. iii. 20), 21 ; (Heb. i. 3), 9 ; (Apoc. i. 8),) omniscience, (John xxi. 17 (Jer. xvii. 10) (John xvi. 30) ;

ii. 25 ; (Luke ii. 49) ; Matt, xxiii. 34 ; (1 Cor. i. 24),) immensity or omnipresence, (Heb. i. 3; Matt, xviii. 20; Matt, xxviii. 20; John

iii. 13.)* In a word, the very essence, and the incommunicable name of God, are clearly given him both in the old and new Testa- ment. (Ps. cix. 1, compared with (Matt. xxii. 24), where the Jews allow Christ to be meant ; Ps. xevi. 7, compared with (Heb. i. 6) (Ps. xliv. 7), 8 ; Heb. ib.; (Ps. ci. 26) (Heb. i. 10) (Num. xiv. 23) (1 Cor. x. 9) (Isa. xi. 10) (Rom. xv. 12) (Jer. xxiii. 6). Mai. iii. 1 ; (Mark i. 1), 2; (Rom. xiv. 10), 11 ; (Phil. ii. 10), 11 ; (Acts xx. 28) (Heb. iii. 6) (1 Tim. iii. 16) (2 Cor. xi. 31) (1 Tim. vi. 14), 16 ; (Apoc. xvii. 14) (John xx. 28) (John v. 18), 22; (Col. ii. 9), 10; (Phil. ii. 5), 6; (John x. 30).) Isaiah calls him Emmanuel, or God with us, the mighty God, the ever- lasting Father, the Prince of peace. (Isa. vii. 14 (Matt. i. 23);) Jehovah our God. (Isa. ix. 6.) Osee also gives him the incommu- nicable name of God Jehovah. (Isa. xiv. 22 ; et xl. 3, quoted Matt, iii. 3 ; (Mark i. 3) (Luke iii. 4) (John i. 23).) Christ himself declares : “ I and my Father are one," (Osee u 7, compared with (Luke ii. 1),) where he means not an unity of consent ; but of nature and essence. Hence he declares elsewhere : “ All things which the Father hath “are mine." (John x. 30.) And addressing himself to his Father: “ All my things are thine, and thine are mine. (John xvi. 15.) S. Paul in a single line has couched the self existence, essential independence, and unchangeable eternity of the Son of God, in words which run parallel with the erophatical definition which God gave of himself \p Moses, in which he expresses the peculiar character of his Deity,

• See on these and other passages of a like nature, Hnet’s Demonstrate) Ecang. Waterland, in his queries and defence, Witasse, Toumelj, dse.

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from his essential necessary existence of himself, when he said : “ I . am who am,” (John xvii. 10,) importing that he alone exists unchange* able, by the necessity of his being, from eternity to eternity ; not like all other beings, which might not have been at all, or might have been otherwise than they are, depending wholly on the will of their Maker, and may be hereafter auite different from what they are at present* And this his peculiar characteristic and essence he expressed in his most sacred incommunicable name, which he revealed to Moses, and which some moderns erroneously pronounce Jehovah, (Ex. iii. 2, 4,) for Jave , as the Samaritans pronounce it, or Jive or Jeheve , t*, or will be.

Not only this name is given to Christ by the prophets,* (Exod. vk 3,) but its import, and the full description of the very essence of the Deity, are explicitly attributed to him by the Apostle, where he says: “Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.** (Apoc. xix. 1, et in Psalms saepe. ; Hebr. xiii. 8.) He does not say, he was yesterday, is to-day, and will be for ever, but more 'emphati- cally to express his eternal and essentially unchangeable existence ha is the same in the great yesterday from eternity, before all things were created, and at present, and to eternity. All earthly things are subject to perpetual vicissitudes, and soon quite pass away: their yesterday had a beginning, and after a very short duration passed away never more to return, like the waters of a river that are lost in the unfathomable ocean, and can never more find their way into their former channels. If the greatest kings of the earth have shone forth in a full blaze of earthly glory, all this splendor was rather an empty shadow, than a real truth ; so rapidly did it fly away, lying as deep buried in the gulph of nothing, as before its appearance. But Christ the King of kings, with regard to his divine person, was in the bosom of his Father before ages began to flow ; and as his yesterday knew na beginning, so it continues the same ineffable to-day to endless gene- rations, without the least possibility of a change. His yeeterday is. the sameVith his to-day, and with his duration to all ages forever • His eternity answers all our distinctions of past, present, and to come • and the full power and majesty in which he is seated on the throne of his glory, can suffer no abatement, nor admit any increase. La the same sense, God said: “ I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning “and the end, who is, and who was, and who is to come* §ie AU “ mighty.” (Apoc. i. 8.)

Divines employ several comparisons, though all very imperfect and inadequate, to facilitate the understanding of this great mystery of the blessed Trinity; and God has ingraved a wonderful image of it in man himself : for we have in ourselves a soul, one substance, which possesses three distinct spiritual faculties, will, memory, and under- standing, which are as old as she is. « I am, and I know, and I will” •ays St. Austin. (Conf. 1. xv. c. 3.) “ Yet I am this same thW “ which knows and wills, and I know that I am. Ali this is found m “one substance, in one soul. Let him who is able to understand

• See Calmet Critic, et Sacr, ft>, p, 08, et Com. a Lapide.

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“ this, understand it : for it is what every one perceives within him* “self* But let him not hence imagine that ho cap comprehend that “ unchangeable Being, which is above all that exists : in which unity “ does not exclude multiplicity, and multiplicity does not take nWay u single unity,* 8cc,

The sun also furnishes an imperfect figure of the Trinity ; for in it are light, rays, and heat, all coeval to the sun itself. Hence St, Paul calls the 8on the splendor of the glory of God* and character of hi$ substance, regarding him as a ray issuing from the sun, or ai an image imprinted w}th a seal on wax : whence he is called Light of Light. Therefore as we see the sun a parent as soon as it exists, sq we are tp believe that the Son issues from the Father, as the bright Bay from the eternal Light, as the spotless Mirror pf his f|ti and the perfect Image of his Goodness. But whereas, a ray i _ diminutions in its emanation, the divine Word receives froih Father the perfect communication of his essence, without eiy dim(~ nation. Other similies are sometimes made use of by the fathers, tfl help the Weaker understandings ; but as all sensible Comparisons art extremely inadequate, and desperate, attention is required, lest any bp led by them into false notions of this great mystery, The three di* Vine persons have each certain interior actions, which are terminated ilr themselves, and produced nothing without ; and are, therefore, Called their in-dwelling or immanent action, jr, because they are proper to one person, and in him alone. Such ere the actions by which each person proceeds from, or gives origin to another: also the hypostatiCal union of the hunianity in God the $om These three divine persons having all one individual essence or nature, they have all* by consequence, one and the same will, power, wisdom, and operation or action, with the other attributes and Qualities of this essence. Whence all their exterior works, or which produoe any effect out Of the divine persons, as creation, preservation, $ancti& cation of souls, are jointly and equally the actions of the whole blessed Trinity, Nevertheless, as certain actious and effects have a* affinity with the properties of the persons, these are Wttyallr, escribed peculiarly to that person whose property tbeyimitate, WlMf fa reality they equally flow from all the Three. Thus as the Father m the principal in the Godhead, the creation and preservation of all things, and aH works and marks of majesty, power and grandeur are attributed particularly to him, because he u the first origin end fountain of all things, by being the origin of the Divinity, firem which jointly in three persons all other things are. He is on this ac~ count called the Father, and by some ancients is emphatically Styled God ; but in such expressions is regarded as including the Son and the Holy Ghost. Hence the church more ordinarily addresses her prayers to him rather than to all the three persons, to express the unity of the Divinity ; but regards him as including the other two

Krsons which proceed from him. Though in prayers and address** lithsoever person they are directed to, they are always made to the triiole blessea Trinity, as the end and effects of all our petitions are the common effect of all the three person^ or thq whole, Wqjty, a* SU

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Fulgentius has written express treatises to show against the Arians. But we raise our attention to that person principally whose property our petition chiefly agrees with. As the property of the Son is, that he is the Word of the Father, and his eternal increated Wisdom, the works of wisdom are peculiarly attributed to him. Likewise, all the mysteries of our Redemption, wrought by him, as he, not the Father, or the Holy Ghost, was made Man, assuming in his own person our human nature hypostatically, or so as to make it the true appropriated nature of his own divine person, intrinsically united to himself. Like* wise, because a workman is directed in the composition of his work by his internal wisdom or thought, the Father is said to have created all things by the Son. “ By whom all things were made,” (John i.) and the church pray3 to the Father through the Son in the same sense; for by or through , here expresses his origin from the Father ; it also signifies his quality of Mediator, that we ask for grace through his precious death, and that he is our Shepherd, and the gate and the way through which we go to the Father. The property of the Holy Ghost is, that he is the love of the Father and the Son. Hence all effects of love, mercy, and goodness, are generally ascribed to him, as the incarnation of God the Son in the virgin's womb, &c., and God is said to do and preserve all things in him.

This is an abstract of what we are allowed here to know concern* ing this ineffable mystery : though when we speak of it, we are dazzled at the brightness of so great a light, and are seized with a religious dread and trembling in the presence of so awful a majesty, which raptures of adoration in silence better suit than any words : for it is presumption to desire to penetrate the unfathomed depth of the Divinity farther than it has pleased him to discover to us. “ He who *is a searcher of majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory.” (Prov. xxv. 27.) We ought only to cry out: “ Behold God is great, and rt surpassing our science.” (Job xxxvi. 26.) “ He has placed darkness u his hiding place : around him is his tabernacle a dark mist in the u clouds of the air.” (Ps. xvii. 12.) “ O the depth of the riches of the M wisdom, and of the knowledge of God ! how incomprehensible are “ his judgments, and how unsearchable his way9 ?” (Rom. xi. 33.) He is infinite and incomprehensible in his goodness, in his mercy, in his justice, in his love, and every other attribute. How much more must he surpass our weak understanding in his own essence ? In other articles we are able to form some conceptions of his perfections, though very imperfect and inadequate ; but here he is altogether in- comprehensible to us. This is the mystery of mysteries ; a mystery not only divine; but God himself: that mystery before which the highest cherubim perpetually annihilate themselves ; but neither dare nor are able to unveil. The prophet Jeremy, (chap. i. 6,) said to God: “ Lord, I am a child, and cannot sneak as if he should say : I know not how to express my own thoughts. How then can I announce your holy laws to your people? We have far more reason to say so, when we are obliged to speak of this great mystery of the in- comprehensible Trinity.

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CHAP II.

How we are to honour the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity .

It is our duty to make our whole lives an uninterrupted festival of the holy Trinity, as the blessed do in heaven to all eternity : for our great obligation is to praise and honour God without ceasing. We honour this mystery by our faith, by the sanctity of our lives, and by . our homages of praise and love. The more incomprehensible it is, the more glorious to God is the sacrifice of our reason in it : not that any article of faith can ever be against reason, how much soever it be above reason, for nothing can be more conformable to right reason, than to believe most firmly whatever God reveals, though reason be • not able to comprehend or clearly understand it. Such a faith is to ; profess God altogether incomprehensible ; and what can be more ho- nourable to God, than such an humble confession and acknowledg- ment? We never form a higher or more worthy idea of his great- ness, than when we own him most incomprehensible to all creatures possible. Reason, by thus humbling itself, justly exalts God, and makes, by her silence of adoration, the only true confession of the ineffable Trinity. It is in this faith in the adorable Trinity that we were baptised, enrolled among his true worshippers, and admitted into the partnership of the most glorious privileges, and promises of grace and everlasting glory: it is by fervent acts of this faith in the Trinity, and of hope and love, that we prepare ourselves for all the . sacraments : it is by these sacred names of the adorable Trinity, every exorcism, consecration, and benediction is performed ; that all sacrifices and prayers are offered; and that every good action is begun and ended. In the terrible hour of our death, the minister of God will by them strengthen our souls, and terrify the legions of hell, saying to us : 44 Go forth Christian soul, in the name of the 44 Father woo created thee, of the Son who suffered for thee, and of 41 the Holy Ghost who sanctified thee.” It is by this our holy faith, and faithful adoration of the ever blessed Trinity, that he will most powerfully recommend us to the divine mercy. 44 Although he hath 44 sinned, he will then say : 44 yet he hath not denied the Father, the 44 Son, and the Holy Ghost ; but hath believed, had the zeal of the 44 honour of God, and hath faithfully adored him who made all things.” To render ourselves worthy to receive the benefit of this holy recom- mendation, and of our faith, we must honour our Creator, and our faith, by the holiness of our lives and manners. Our words or pro- fessions alone will not be accepted by him, if we are a scandal to his name and religion by degenerating from its purity, innocence, and aanctity in our conduct. The primitive Christians were all practice :

44 They knew not how to dispute, but they knew how to die for God.” Sciehant tnori, non sciebant disputare, says S. Pacian, {Proven. ad pom.) And S. Cyprian, (f. de patient,) 44 we do not talk great 44 things, but we honour God and preach to our neighbour by our 44 manners; for W E LlYE TBS Gospex.” Non magna loquimur, sed vivimus.

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On the contrary, in these our days we know every thing about our Religion but the practice : without which our faith will be our more grievous condemnation, a profanation of the holy mysteries of God which we profess, and an occasion to his enemies of blaspheming his holy name, and insulting his divine Religion ; which danger is the greater, and our obligation the more pressing, the more the race of unbelievers is increased in our present age in numbers and boldness. God created our first parents after his own image, chiefly by enrich- ing them with sanctifying £race and all virtues; and we bear his image in us by interior sanctity : we destroy it by sin, and draw in its stead the image of the devil in our hearts. What a sacrilege and blasphemy ? What an injury do we thus offer to God ? Into what monsters do we convert our souls ? We cannot too carefully respect, and daily adorn the most pure and glorious image of God in us, which the least stain sullies, and which we can always render more perfect and more beautiful, by corresponding with his grace.

The mystery of the holy Trinity is also particularly honoured in us, ,by the virtue of union and charity. The Godhead is fruitful within himself, and produces a multiplicity of persons in the simplicity of his nature, to enjoy the advantages of holy society within himself, from all eternity. Hence to create man, he as it were held a council of his three persons within himself, saying : “ Let us make man to our own image and likeness,” (Gen. i. 26,) as the fathers observe. What sweet repose, love, glory, and joy do the three persons possess in them- selves, and in one another before all ages, and to all ages, and what a sweet eternal entertainment in’their own boundless happiness and per- fections ? How does God in this mystery recommend to us perfect union and fraternal charity? “ One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism.” (Eph. iv.) What a monster is it for members of such a head to be disunited ? What a crime, if we break such a sacred band ? “ There

"are three that bear testimony in heaven, the Father, the Word, and “ the Holy Ghost ; and these three are one.” (1 John v. 7.) And we on earth ought to bear testimony to him by our union together in the strictest bond of concord and charity, as the blessed are all united together in the kingdom of glory.

Thus we honour the holy Trinity by faith, by sanctity of life, and by union or concord of oulihearts. We must honour him likewise by our perpetual homages of praise, adoration, and love. The blessed choirs above make tnis their uninterrupted solemnity and occupation to endless ages, to adore and praise him, singing without intermission, what Isaiah heard the seraphim sweetly repeating : “ Holy, holy,

“ holy, the Lord God of Hosts, all the earth is full of his glory.” (Isa. vi. 3.) With them all saint-like souls, and all the pure spouses of God on earth, are employed night and day in jointly sounding forth his praises. Shall we be slothful in this exercise, and not unite daily our hearts and voices with theirs, with the greatest ardour we are capable of, redoubling our fervour on this great solemnity ? In this spirit let us also offer up all our actions to the honour and glory of the adorable Trinity, begging that we may always accomplish his holy will. Let us frequently interrupt our daily actions, by some fervent

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doxologjr, such m that contained in the Usual form of the sign of the cross, or that adopted by the church against the Ariita heresy e «* Glory be to the Father, and to the Son* and to the Holy “ Ghoat i as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be ; world “ without end. Amen/’ That is, may all honour and glory bo, with the most perfect sacrifice and annihilation of us and of au creatures, to the Father, and infinite Lord of all things * to the co-eternal and oonsubstantial Son, our most mercifhl Redeemer } and to the Holy Ghost, the great Comforter and Sanctifier of Our so ids ; as. was from the divine persons, to each other from all eternity, by their infinite love and repose in their own perfections | and from the beginning of time, and the moment of their creation, by the good angels, and all faithful servants of God % and as is now most profoundly paid him by all the blessed spirits, and by the church militant on earth* and wifi be, by us all, through his mercy* with all our strength and powers to all eternity. Amen, Amen.

After having rendered our homages to the holy Trinity, we must neat consider, that we are bound to refer to this tame sacred Trinity, all that wo are, our whole being, our life, and all our actions. To un- derstand this obligation, We have but to call to mind, that we were bap- tized in the name of the Trinity, and beam spiritually in the church: that we then made a solemn profession of acknowledging him for our God of whom alone we depend ; our first beginning and our leal end ; and that we owe him love, thanksgiving, and obedience. Lot us then now afresh consecrate ourselves to this blessed Trinity, ahd offer afi our powers to him $ our memory, our understanding, and our will ; begging the Father to efface out of our memory aU images of vanity, to engrave in it the image of his divine presence only t the Son to oalighten the darkness cl our understanding, and conduct us in the path of salvation by the light of faith, and of knowledge of his eternal truth : the Holy Ghost to sanctify our will by his fervent and com slant love, that nothing may be able to separate us from him, in time of eternity* Amen.

CHAP. III.

Of the AAvevwriee ef the Fmith Wf the Masted Trinity.

The faith of the church in this fundamental mystery of religion, the devil has, from the beginning, employed all his artifices to pervert. In the very times of the apostles, Cerinthus, an Antiochian Jew, pretended that Jesus was a mere man, that the Christ descended upon him in his baptism, and left him before his passion ; for he distin* guished Jesus and Christ as two persons.* Ebion also about the same time, taught that Christ was a mere man.b With a view in part to

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confute these two heresiarchs, S. John wrote his gospel, a which he begins by asserting that the Word was before all ages, true God, with and in the Father,6 consequently a distinct person, in the same undi- vided nature. Then by saying that the Word was made flesh, he overthrew the impiety of Cerinthus, and precondemned the heresy of Nestorius, establishing the whole Catholic doctrine of the incarna- tion. In the time of pope Victor, about the end of the second cen- tury, Theodotus of Byzantium, a leather-dresser or currier, having denied Christ before the persecutors, to extenuate his guilt, renewed the heresy of Ebion, denying Christ to be God, or to have had any being before he was made man,c for which he was excommunicated by pope Victor ; and his heresy was confuted by Caius, a Boman priest, and other Catholics, by the concurring testimony of all that had gone be- fore them from the time of the apostles. Theodotus cut out of the scriptures all those texts, in which the divinity of Christ is mentioned. He had a disciple, called Theodotus the banker, who pretending that Christ was inferior to Melchisedec, gave birth to the heresy of the Melchisedecians. Artemas or Artemon,*1 renewed the same heresy : and Paul of Samosata, the impious bishop of Antioch, protected by Zenobia, queen of the East, in 262, propagated this blasphemy with great tumults ; but was immediately condemned by the Council of Antioch, and by the whole church. So evidently repugnant to the holy scriptures, and to the unanimous faith and tradition of the whole church in those early ages, w as this blasphemous heresy, that it was every where condemned, so soon as it ever showed its head 5 and the Theodotians saw they could not support it at any rate, w ithout cur- tailing great part of the New Testament. Nevertheless, such progress it has made in our times, under the name of Sociniauism, as to threaten to swallow up great part of the Protestant churches.

Arius, the author of the Arian heresy, by subtle artifices softened his error in such manner as not to correct or seem so openly to contra- dict the scriptures, as the Theodotians or ancient Sociuians did ; he even appealed to the Sacred Oracles, explained by his private interpretation \ and admitted in appearance, some kind of an incarna- tion. He loudly extolled the dignity of Christ as the first-born of all creatures, greater than, and produced before all the angels, and the instrument by which the Father created all other things ; yet blasphemously taught that he was a creature, produced out of nothing, and that there was a duration from eternity, in which he had no being. Arius broached this heresy at Alexandria, about the year 319; it was condemned by thegeneral Council of Nice, in 325 : the few that remained obstinate in their error were banished by the Emperor Constantine. Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, then the imperial city, the most powerful and crafty patron of this heresy, was obliged to dissemble it, and subscribed to the council: Arius himself, in 330, pretended to make a recantation, and was recalled from his banishment. And from the time of the Council of Nice, for above

•S. Jerom. Cat. Vir. iii. c. 9. S, Iren. 1. in. c. 11. p. 267.

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twenty years, so long as Constantine reigned, die open profession of Arianism was utterly extinguished, though the abettors of this he- resy ceased not, under various subtleties and cloaks, to disturb the church, and advance the interest of their sect. Constantius succeeded his Father in 336, and in 340, upon the death of S. Alexander, bishop of Constantinople, the canonical election of S. Paul was set aside by the tyranny of the emperor, and Eusebius of Nicomedia trans- lated to that see, where he died in 342. He had propagated Arianism, and left its abettors, who from him were called Euseoians, every where in power in the East. These Eusebians were dissembling Arians, of so pliable a cast as to accommodate their terms and confessions of faith to the circumstances of the times, and to the humour of those whose favour they courted. This being the character of their leader, a man long practised in the maxims and arts of an ambitious, worldly courtier, Eusebius’s successor, Masedonics, whom the Arians intru- ded to the prejudice of S. Paul, the lawful bishop, set up Semiarian- ism. His heresy was divided into as many branches as it had heads. Some denied the divinity of the Holy Ghost ; but acknowledged the consubstantiality of the Son. Others in much greater numbers called the Son like the Father, though not consubstantial or equal, but of an inferior distinct nature, opoiovcrioc, like in substance , not ofioovcrioc, consubstantial. Of these many called Christ eternal, and uncreated, and like the Father in all things. See their definitions in the Coun- cil of Ancyra in 358, held by Basil of Ancyra, Eustathius of Sebaste, and other heads of that party. Others among them denied the eter- nity of the Son, and notwithstanding the high prerogatives they gave him, ranked him in the class of creatures formed out of nothmg, Ik ray fxij ovrtay. The rank Arians, after the death of their great master the dissembler Eusebius of Nicomedia, had at their head, Theognis of Nice, Maris of Chalcedon, and in the west Ursatius, and Valens in Panonnia. Their blasphemies were carried to greater heights by Aetius, a priest of Antioch, in 347, his disciple Euno- mius, a native of Cappadocia, and Eudoxius, who from the see of Ger- manicia, intruded himself into that of Antioch in 357, upon the death of the Arian Leontius, and Euzoius, one of his successors in 361. These taught the Son to be in every respect unlike the Father; whence they were called from the Greek word ayopoiog, Anonueans , and from their leaders, Aetians, and more frequently Eunomians. Both Arians and Semiarians were eternally mending their creeds, and again and again reforming their tenets every year and every moon, as S. Hilary reproached them. So rapid was the progress which the Arian heresy made, and so wide did it spread its devastation, that the protection of God in supporting his church was never more visi- ble than on that occasion. The eloquence and subtle cunning and artifices of their crafty teachers, and the power of several emperors, and great kings of the Goths and Vandals, &c. gave it such strength as seemed to threaten destruction to the church itself, had it not been secured by the promises of Christ. Yet this formidable heresy passed like a thunder storm : and, after the entire conversion of the Lombards in the seventh century, pot a shoot of Alienism was left in th6 whole worlds

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The enemy of man’s salvation attacked also the mystery of the Blessed Trinity by another opposite heresy. Praxeas, a Phrygian, who had been a follower of Montanus, but detected the imposture of that heresiarch, and gave information thereof to Pope Victor, after- ward revolting from the church, denied this fundamental mystery, and taught at Rome, about the year 260, that the persons in the Trinity are in no respect really distinct, and that the Son is really the Father ; consequently that the Father was made man, and suf- fered in Christ. Whence his followers were called Patripassians. His blasphemy was confuted by Tertullian, at that time a Montanist. Noetus also, a native of Smyrna, taught the same heresy in lesser Asia, a little before Praxeas, about the year 240; and was excom- municated for the same. He was confuted by S. Hippolitus. (L contra Noet. T. ii. Op.) Sabellius also propagated the like hereti- cal notions at Ptolemais, and in the higher Libia, about the year 256 ; against whom S. Dionysius of Alexandria wrote a zealous letter, in which some accused him of teaching God the Son to be a mere creature ; but he cleared himself by his refutation and apology , which he addressed to S. Dionysius, the holy pope of Rome. Sabellius gained more proselytes than Noetus and Praxeas had done ; and though he taught with them, that the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are no more than different names in God, derived from different actions or effects, and that the Father is called the Son in the action of our redemption, and the Holy Ghost in our sanctification : yet he denied that tne Father was crucified : by which he seems to have thought Christ to have been merely a man, whereas Noetus and Praxeas believed an incarnation of God, called in this effect the Son, but still the same person with the Father.

From these opposite heresies, to which pride in prying into the in- comprehensibility of this mystery gave occasion, we justly infer what was ever the true doctrine of the church relating to the adorable Tri- nity. For had not the Christian Faith always taught a distinction of the three persons, Arius would not have had the least colour for pro- pagating his blasphemy, nor had ever imposed it upon his followers. Nor, on the other side, could the Sabellian error have been broached, if the Divinity of the Son and the Holy Ghost had not been always acknowledged.

All these ancient heresies, after having been triumphed over and buried for so many ages, are again revived in our days, ip every shape which it seems possible for them to wear ; but which we may reduce to the general heads of modern Arianism and Socinianism. Here we shall give some account of the unhappy revivers of these condemned errors ; and first, of Michael Serve, or Servetus, born in 1509) at Villa Nueva, in Arragon, whence he calls himself in his books Villa Nova - nui . He was sent young to Toulouse, and there studied the civil law ; but afterward became an eminent physician, and natural philoso- pher, aud a subtle metaphysician. He imbibed his heretical notions very young, by reading the Bible upon the principles of the Calvinists at Toulouse, and grew so fond of them as to resolve at . any rate to opmmence reformer. With this view he travelled to Lyons, Geneva,

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and Basil 2 in this last town he bad some conferences with CEeolim- padius. Being desirous to discourse with Buoer and Caplto at Stras* burgh, he went thither ; and not finding an opportunity to print 0 hook he had written against the Trinity, in these places, he went to Haguenau, in Alsace, to inspect the impression, being then twenty* one years old* It was printed there in 1531, ib octavo, under this title 3 De Trinitatis Erroribus Libri Septem , per Michadem Ser» velum, alias Revet, ah Arrogonia. In this work he pretends that the words, Jesus and Christ and the Son of God, denote only a matt ] and in the most opprobrious language, blasphemes and rejects a Tii* nity ? but whilst he denies this mystery, because fricotoprensible, he substitutes a notion concerning the person of our Saviour, which is so obscure as to be absolutely unintelligible. For he makes the person of Christ to be a mode of being in the Deity, preformed in the di- vine mind, which mode Qod disposed in himself that he might make himself known to us, by describing the effigies of Jesus Christ it) him* self, (L vii. fob i 1 0,) where he expresses more than the SabeillanS and Socinians allow, yet he knows not what. The next year 1592t he put out another book at Haguenau in defence of his errors 2 hut in some essential points inconsistent with his former, under this title, Dialogorutn de Trinitats Libri duo, ds Justitid Regni Christi, Capitula guatuor ; an inconsiderable work. He was young and extremely zealous for his new opinion, and thought that open the principle of interpreting the scriptures by every one’s private Spirit, fl person in a Protestant country might as safely declare against the Tri- nity as against Transubstantiation x but he soon found a atoms raised against him. We have extant a warm letter of GScolampadius to Bucer, written in 1531, against him. (Eeolampadii Zutngli Epis* toUe, 1. m. p. 801. Barilesp 1592, in quarto. And Melancfow (1. iv. op. 140, anno 1533, &c.) laments the tumults which the heresy of Servetus would raise, for he foresaw that many would Hot be content with Luther and Calvin’s doctrine ; but would also attack the Trinity, & c. Servetus went to Lyons, and staid there two or three years f from thence to Paris, where he studied physic under Sylvius and Feraell, was admitted doctor in that faculty, and practised in that pro- fession. During this time he conversed often with Calvin, who al- ways opposed his notions as Beza informs us. ( Hist . Ecckt. Refbrm* m Gaiks, voi L p. 14. Antwerpiae, 1580.) From Paris he went to Lyons, and settled in a town twelve leagues distant from that city. In 1542, he printed at Lyons an edition of Pagninus’s Latin translation of the Bitble? with short marginal notes, in which he gives a literal expli- cation of the prophecies relating to Christ, to whom be applies them only mystically and figuratively. Soon after this publication, Ser- vetus removed to Vienne, and there practised physic with great repo- tation. There, in 1553, be printed his third hook against the Trinity, under the title of Chrxstianismi Restitutio, together with thirty let- ters, which he had written to John Calvin, preacher at Geneva, ht 734 pages in octavo. To this book he prefixed no name ; bet Calvin sent informations to Vienne, that Servetus was the author, whereiv be betrayed the confidence of Servetusb literary caxsespeodeae*} iff

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which Calvin is severely condemned by Erasmus, (1. xix. ep. ad Conrad Pelican ,) and many others. Servetus, in this book declares himself no Photinian, or Samosatenian ; for he asserts the pre-exis- tence of Christ, that he is true God, and to be worshipped as such, (though he probably means only as a mode of the Father,) but ex- presses himself so confusedly, that it is hard to have any notion of his opinion, which he calls a mystery unknown to the world. He pretends that Antichrist had begun his reign in the fourth century and continued still to hold his empire in the church. lie had first consulted Calvin about some passages of scripture ; then warmly re- futed his explications of them. Hereat Calvin was much incensed, called him a profligate fellow, full of pride, a dog, &c. Servetus was no less fiery and obstinate on his side, as appears by his letters. In his Christianismi Restitutio , he explains in a comparison the circula- tion of the blood in the human body, and seems the first that men- tioned it, though Dr. Harvey perfected that discovery. See the pas- sage in Wotton on ancient and modern learning . (p. 229.) Also in Dr. Douglas’s Bibliographic Anatomicc Specimen (p. 85) ; and in Servetus’s life, p. 66. Upon the informations of Calvin, he was appre- hended at Vienne ; but treated well, and made his escape from thence two days after. Upon his letters to Calvin, which he owned, and his last book, he was condemned by the magistrates of Vienne, on the 17th of June, 1553, to be burnt; and his effigies were there fustened to a gibbet, and then burnt with five bales of his books. Servotus resolved to retire to Naples, there to practise physic, took the way of Geneva, designing only to stay there one night, and to go the next day to Zurich. Calvin, informed of his arrival, acquainted the first Syndic with it, and caused him to be apprehended, and directed his prosecutors and accusers. Servetus was brought first to the bar on the 14th of August, 1553. Calvin himself appeared often at his trial, and made extracts out of his Restitutio Christianising upon which chiefly lie was condemned. The Protestant magistrates and theologians of the cantons of Zurich, Bern, and Shaffhausen, and the city of Basil, were consulted, and sent long answers to prove that Servetus ought to be put to death. Accordingly, after many hearings, he was condemned on the 27th of October, to be burnt alive. From that time, he appeared like a man distracted; sometimes speechless and without motion ; at other times he fetched deep sighs, or made bitter lamentations ; at length, being grown weak, he howled and cried out continually, " Mercy, mercy, mercy !* He was burnt with his books, having writlen an Anti-trinitarian confession of faith for his dying speech. To jus- tify his execution, Calvin wrote a book, entitled Fidelis Expositio Error um Michaelis Servati , ubi docetur Jure Gladii coercendos esse Hereticos : and Beza another ; De Hereticis a civili Mag is- tratu puniendis : both printed by Robert Stephens, An. 1554.—- See Buxhorn, Historia Universal p. 70. ad An. 1552. Memoir es de Ei- terature9 Vol. iii. and iv. Bibliotheque Angloise , T. ii. Art. 7* at large. And the history of Servetus; printed at London, anno 1724, oct.

Whilst Servetus was at Paris, his book Be Trinitatis Erroribus was dispersed in Italy, as Buxhorn tells us (ad An. 1552). Me-

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lancton (I. i. ep. 8,) wrote to the senate of Venice, in 1639, to inform them that this boo};, in which the error of Paul of Samos&ta was revived, was handed about in their country, exhorting them to extir- pate such an impiety. Nor is it improbable that Lariius Socinus and his colleagues first imbibed their notions from this book. Though Servetus established his system very ill, he reasoned with subtilty against the scriptural proofs of the Trinity ; some of which Calvin handled so ill as to afford him an occasion of triumph, as Maldonat takes notice, who lays down this essential maxim, that “ we must not “ put a wrong sense upon the words of scripture in order to confute “ heretics,” (in Luc. 1. xxxv.) Amongst tne succeeding Antitrinita- rians, not one seems to have adopted the system of Servetus, so that he left no follower of that boasted restored church of which he styled himself the founder, but which began and ended in him.

Valentinus Gentilis, a native of Cosen zr., in the kingdom of Naples, travelled through Naples, Sicily, and Italy, and arrived at Geneva, where several Italians had before taken refuge, and were inventors of new doctrines. Among these George Blandrata, a physician, Mat- thew Gribaldi, a lawyer from Pavia, and Paul Alciati, a lawyer from Milan, (of a family eminent in that profession before and since his time,) Sylvester Telli, Paruta and Leonhardi, favoured Arianism, and held continual disputations together on that article, till they were all banished Geneva, in 1559* Gribaldi, who was possessed of an estate, had before retired to Targes, in the canton of Bern. Gentilis joined them in their conferences, in which they were not able to agree in one system : but all these seem to have thought that the Son and the Holy Ghost were inferior to the Father, and had not the same Divine nature or essence. Gentilis advanced, that the Trinity consists of three eternal distinct spirits, differing from each other in essence and nature. This was a kind of Tritheism, such as some authors have attributed to Joachim, a Cistercian monk, abbot of Flora in Calabria, who died in 1216, and to John Philoponus, a grammarian and philosopher of Alexandria, in 601, who distinguished in God three natures, and is by many called the first author of Tritheism, though Joseph Assemani shows, (Bibl. Orient. 1. ii. p. 327,) that another John, suraamed Ascasnagus, first broached that heresy. Gentilis having openly declared his sentiments, was apprehended, and to save his life, gave in a most explicit recantation : upon which he was con- demned by the magistrates of Geneva, to make a public confession by way of atonement, to which he submitted, with all apparent signs and strong protestations of sincerity, in 1568. But no sooner was he discharged, than he repaired to Gribaldi at Targes, where he found Alciati, and a schoolmaster, tutor to Gribaldi’s children, who then renewed their conferences on Arianism. Gentilis wrote there a com- pilation of passages from the fathers, wretchedly maimed, and ill- chosen ; but this was never printed. However, he printed, and dedi- cated to the governor of Gex, to whose jurisdiction Tardes was sub- ject, an Arian confession of his frith : for which he was obliged to save himself again by flight. At Lyons he was thrown into prison for two months, and released upon a confession of faith, which Gene-

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brard judged orthodox. Calvin in his narrative of Gentilie (amongst his Opusculay p. 764) says he had foresworn himself thrice. By ram- bling about at Lyons, Chambery, Grenoble, and i*. Dauphiny, he was too well known to be able to preach his doctrine in those parts, and therefore he went to Blandrata, and Alciati, who were then in Po- land ; and there he staid above two years. These blasphemers against the Trinity differed amongst themselves, and propagated many mon- strous errors. Some denied the incarnation, others the immortality of the soul; others preached polygamy. Alciati is said by some from defending polygamy, to have fallen into Mahometanism ; but this Bayle thinks to have been a slander. (Diet. V. Alciati .) The Lu- therans and Calvinists in Poland opposed them, with whom they had attempted to associate themselves. But so great was the confusion the new Antitrinitarians raised by their dissentions and extravagant opinions, that king Sigismund was obliged by an edict, to command all such strangers as were setters up of new doctrines, immediately to depart the kingdom. Gentilis being thus expelled Poland in 15569 joined the Anabaptists in Moravia ; thence he went to Vienna, every where dispersing his errors, and boasting of his victories over the Lu- therans and Calvinists in his disputations with them. Calvin being dead at Geneva in 1564, Gentilis, always unsettled, resolved to re- turn to those parts, hoping to find Gnbaldi still alive. Upon his arrival at Gex, he presented a petition to the governor, to beg the favour of a public disputation. This magistrate, the same whom he had formerly affronted, committed him to prison, and acquainted therewith the senate of Bern ; before which he was brought on the 19th of July, 1566. Against him were produced a book written with his own hand, dedicated to Sigismund, King of Poland, his various confessions of faith, his book of antidotes, a book in Italian, and ano- ther in Latin, all full of Arian blasphemies, for his papers were all seized with him. He maintained three eternal Spirits, one by con- sent, will, power, and dominion only ; that the Son is a secondary and different sort of God ltvrtp6QtoQ and IrepSOcoc, &c. He was often examined and disputed with by order of the Senate, from the 5th of August to the 9th of December, on which he was condemned to be beheaded. As he was led out to execution he boldly repeated his blasphemies, and gloried that he died a martyr of the most high God* When he was forced to lay down his neck to the block he began to faulter, and said he was very willing to agree. Thus his life was taken from him Anno 1556. Some will not nave him to be a Tritheist, be- cause though he often attributes eternity to the second and third Persons, he always gives them a distinct and inferior nature, and some- times places them in the rank of creatures ; so that he could only mean to give them an eternity dependent of the Father : not an es- sential independent eternity, which is an attribute of the Deity. He seems, with many philosophers, to have imagined that a created being could be produced by God from eternity, though consistency is not to be expected in men who have abandoned the truth to follow the false light of a wandering imagination, under the guidance of pride and other passions, especially where persons betray a want of judgment

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and tmdewt*n<fln$ and whose teaming goes a Httte beyottd that of languages* and the first elements of science. When GentiHs was re- leased at Lyons, in 1560, Calvin and his friends complained loudly of the lenity of the Catholic magistrates* And to convict him of the Arian Impiety from his words and writing*, a hook was pot out at Geneva, under this title : Impietas VeUentmt GentUie detect «, Anno 1561 ; with this motto in the title page : Absohrite, absolvite, Judices Lugdtmentte, efosmodi Monstra^ df in opprimendo Christi Regno petgite, ut pueri tandem, oestri tint Judtces. On this heresiarch see the aforesaid book ; also the History of Valentinus GentiHs* the Tritheist, written by Benedict Aretjus, a divine of Bern: Bayle, In his Diet. V. GentiHs. Spon. Htst* de Genet n, T. iL Lamy, Hist, du Socinfanisme, p. iL c. 6. p. 251. Sandhis, BibHoth Antx-Trinitar. p. 26. FuesKn, Reformation* Beutrage, T. 5, p. 981*

The other Antitrinitarians, terrified by the fete of Servetus, either concealed their sentiments at Geneva, or fled into other countries, chiefly Poland. George Blandrata, a native of Salutes* a physician at Pavia, who had retired to Geneva, from thence in 1558, fled into Poland* where Sigfomtond Augustus^ who succeeded hfe father, the Great Sigismund, in 15*8, allowed liberty of conscience without excepting any sect. Bfendrata removed from thence into Transylvania in 1503, and in 1566 had a public conference and disputation before the prince and nobiHty, with Francis Davldes, who had infected many with monstrous opinions. Blaodatra brought over John Sigismund, Prince of Transylvania, to the Antl- trinitarian heresy, and attended him in the double tjuaKty of physi- cian and pastor at his death in 1570. He remained at court, physician to the two succeeding princes* Stephen Battorf* and Christopher Battori j but under the latter, the Socinians say* to please this prince, and out of a desire of lucre, he forsook the Socinians and joined the CathoHcsw He was murdered by his nephew for hfe money, about the year 1596. Paul Alciati also fled from Geneva into Poland ; he differed much with hfe colleagues, and Is said to have retired into Turkey: but died at Dantzic. Francis Davides, an Hungarian, was superintendent and chief teacher of the Unitarians in Transylvania, maintained with great heat that Christ is neither to be invoked nor worshipped. Prince Battori, to put an end to tumults, cast him into prison, where he (Red in 155&. Hfe dfeciple, Christian Franken, preached afterward against Socinus ; a disputation he had with him is extant among Socinus^ Works, T. ii. p. /67. See Snndtus Bibli - oik. Socm. pp. 57, 58* and 86.

* Latins Socmus was bom of a gentleman's family at Sienna, In 1525, and brought up to. the law ; he retired into Lombardy in 1546, and at Vicenza had several conferences with other Antitrinitarians, the foun- ders of other sects : namely, with Ochin, the apostate Capuchin friar, GentiHs, and Paul Alciati. The senate of Venice having been in- formed of these meetings, aS the persons concerned in them, said to be above forty, were obliged to flee. Lselius Socinus travelled through France, Flanders, Germany, and came to London. But not finding it safe any where to preach hfe errors, he contented himself with

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writing secretly to support them ; and returning into Switzerland, settled at Zurich, making sometimes excursions into Germany. He died at Zurich in 1562. He sent several of his writings to his friends in Tuscany, and many amongst them fell into his opinions. Amongst these his nephew, Faustus Socinus, who was born at Sienna in 1530, and brought up in the study of the laws, most warmly embraced them, and retired from his country. Being at Lyons when his uncle died, he went from thence to Zurich, and possessed himself of all his papers, in order to qualify himself to propagate his doctrine. He returned to Florence, and enjoyed there for some time a place in the Duke’s court, till resolved to commence preacher,* in order to reform Calvinists, & c* he went over to Basil, ana published his book : On Jesus Christ the Saviour, in which he openly revived the Samosatenian and Photinian heresy. Blandrata, whom Calvin and Beza represent as one incapable of writing to advantage, invited him into Transylvania ; whence he passed into Poland, in 1579* The Antitrinitarians of that kingdom were divided into about fifty different sects ; but were all known by the general name of Unitarians. They had their conventicles in many great towns in Poland ; but Racovia, in Little Poland, was their me- tropolis, under the protection of the lord of that city, who had re- nounced Calvinism. There they had a large college, in which John Crellius, horn near Nuremberg, in 1590, was the most celebrated pro- fessor and minister from the year 1 612. His name is the fnost famous, next to that of Socinus, in the list of Socinian teachers: his books on the Unity of God, on the Satisfaction of Christ, against Grolius’s An- swer to Socinus, are much esteemed in that sect. This college sub- sisted till the year 1638, when it was suppressed, in punishment of the riots of the students, who had pulled down the public crosses in tho country, and profaned tho churches. Faustus Socinus lived many years in Cracow ; but spent his last years, and died in 1604, at a gentle- man’s house in the country, nine miles from that city. The Arians and Socinians of Poland favoured Ragotzi, Prince of Transylvania, in his wars against Poland ; by which they so exasperated the state, that they were banished the kingdom in 1658, being only allowed two years to sell their estates. Great numbers retired into Holland, though they were not allowed thero the exercise of their public worship, as is proved by Bayle from facts. See Vitd Eausti Socina descripta ah Equile Polono9 in 4to, 1639; and Socinus’s Life, by Sam. Pryzco- pius, prefixed to Socinus’s Works. Also Christophori Sandii Bibli- otheca Anti-Trinitarionum, in 8vo. Friestadii, 1684, an impious, but curious and learned piece : and what is often printed as an Appendix to it, Slanislai Lubienicii , (i. e. Lubienietsky) Histoiia Reformdtionis Polonicce , in 8vo. Friestadii, 1685. The same Christopher Sandius, in his Nucleus Histories Ecclesiasticce seu Historia Arianorum et So - cinianorurriy printed at Cologn in 1676, in 4to., pretends to derive a continued succession of Arians and Socinians from the earliest ages of Christianity. See likewise Wissowatii Narratio de Separations Unitariorum a Rejbrmatis. And Paulus Debrezenius Historia Ecclesice Reformdtce in Hungaria, And Martin Schimeizelii, De Statu Ecclesice Lulherance in Transylvania . Among the Catho-

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lies, Spondan. in Contin. Annal. Baron, ad An. 1568, &c. La my, pist. du Socinianisme, 4to., though this author is not always exact.

The chief principles of Socinianism are, First, that all Scriptural doctrines are so to be understood, as to contain nothing above reason, no mystery ; and all the expressions which seem to imply such things are to he looked upon as lofty exaggerative phrases of the Oriental languages : for they pretend that nothing is to be allowed in faith or religion which our reason does not fully comprehend. Hence it fol- lows, that articles of faith vary in proportion to men’s capacities. Secondly, the Socinians teach, that Christ was formed by God an ex- traordinary man, bom of the Virgin Mary, taken up to heaven, and imbued with that portion of divine power and knowledge which is called the Holy Ghost, and sent again on earth God’s ambassador to men, to teach them his will and law. They deny his death to have been a satisfaction for our sins; but say that those that obey his pre- cepts, which all men can do by the strength of their own nature, will rise again in other bodies, and enjoy a happy life in that blessed place in which God possesses his own beatitude : but the wicked shall be condemned to temporary torments, for a certain term, after which they will be reduced to a state of annihilation. Some amongst them condemn all swearing, wars, and magistrates, and all capital punish- ments. Their form of Church government differs little from that of the Calvinists. They baptize only the adults, and that by immersion ; and their notion of the Eucharist is such as a Zuinglian or Calvinist would allow.

The first Catechism of this sect was put out at Cracow, in 1574. Faustus Socinus compiled a new catechism, which was since en- larged, under the title of the Catechism of Racovia, in which all points of the Socinian doctrine are not expressed, it being meant rather as an apology to externs, than for the instruction of this people. (See Schimidius’s Comments upon it in 1707 : also Koecher’s Bibliotheca Theology Symbol p. 656, and Cedar’s Confutation of the Catechism of Racovia, at Leipsick, in 1759- See also Crellius’s Etkica> &c. Also Bibliotheca Fratrum Polonorum , printed in 1656, in six large volumes, in folio , in which are contained the principal though not all the works of the first writers of this sect.)

Some Socinians allow Christ to have had an existence by creation, before he was born of the Virgin Mary ; but deny that he created the world, and interpret all passages in which any creation is ascribed to Him, of its spiritual creation, or renovation, by raising it from sin by bis perfect law. Socinus taught, that Christ may be worshipped and praised ; which he maintained against Francis Davides, and his dis- ciples, Franken, Sommer, &c. whom Socinus calls Semi-J udai z antes t and against whom he published his book, contra Semi-Judaizantes. (T. ii. Op. p. 804.) Vet it is a matter of surprise, that he procured the imprisonment of Davides, since he allows this to be a point of no importance, and says, those do best who never pray to Christ, but to God alone. (Responsione ad Wujeckum , T. ii. Op. p. 538.) Lubi- eneitsky also calls it a point of no moment. (Hist. Reform. Pol 1. 3. c. 11. p. 228.) Those Socinians who deny Christ can be the object

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of prayers, or worship and adoration, are commonly called Budneans, from the first author of this doctrine, Simon Budnaeus, who was fol- lowed by great numbers of the Antitrinitarians in Lithuania and Polish Russia, when Socinus and his friends, in 1584, deprived him of his office of teacher and preacher, and cut off all his followers from their communion. Budfiseus is said to have afterward abandoned this point of doctrine, and returned to the communion of the Socinians. (See Sandius, Bibl. p. 54, 55. Ringletaube, &c.) An opposite fac- tion among the Unitarians adhered to Stanislas Farnovius, or Far- nesius, who died in 1614. From him they were called Famovian*. These retained the Arian doctrine of Peter Gones, the first Anti- trinitarian who retired into Poland. These the Socinians never ex- pelled their communion ; but in Poland brought them over at length to their opinions. The Socinians generally reduce the Holy Ghost to a mere operation of the Deity.

Since the Socinians were expelled Poland, they seem no where to have retained a form of public church government, except in Transylvania, where it still subsists, though in some degree discountenanced. See the History of that Socinian church, given by Zeltner, ( Historia Crypto- Socianismi Altorfini.) When they attempted it in Holland, (under their zealous teachers, Erasmus Joannis, Andrew Voidovius, and Christopher Ostarodus,) the Calvinist magistrates and divines, by their vigilance and severity, defeated all their endeavours. (Zeltner ib.) Samuel Crellius, who died very old at Amsterdam, is esteemed the most subtle and most learned writer of this sect; he chose rather to be called from Artemon an Artemonite than a Socinian. Amongst the Armenians in Holland and Holstein, many from Pelagianism fett also into Socinianism, principally Simon Episcopius, Arminius’s chief disciple and Professor at Leyden, who could not be heard at the Council of Dort, and died in 1643. See Conrad Vorstius, minister at Fredericksburg, in Holstein, &c. See Mollerus, Cimbrics Zt- teraUBy T. ii. p. 931, &c.

The main spring, or great principle of Socinianism, that no mys- tery can be admitted in religion, and that what is above human rea- son is against it, flatters the pride of the human heart ; but is the most extravagant inconsistency in man, who feels the weakness and short- sightedness of his reason in every thing, whether in or about himself, and to whom the whole universe is in every part an. enigma : much more in a Christian, to whom the Scriptures present a religion founded in revelation and mystery. This inconsistency is more glaring, when we take a near view of the doctrine of the ablest Soci- nians, differing widely in their notions from one another, and all fraught with mysteries more incomprehensible than those at which they take offence, if evident inconsistency and nonsense could be al- lowed the name of mystery. Also the necessity and evidence of the divine revelation, which by its brightness dispels the mists of Deism, lays open the artful subterfuges and studied evasions of Socinianism, which is but one step from Deism, or bare natural religion. For modern Socinians esteem revelation to be an useful but not necessarr means of attuning all religious knowledge, and call both the Jewish

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and Christian diapnsatiuu a bare ^publication of the law of nature. The following epitaph waa inscribed en Bocanius’s grave »—

a Tots qaidem Babylon feftnudt Tecta Lutherus,

44 Muros Cajvhms, sed Ftmdamenta Sodnoa.”

14 Luther uncovered Babylon l Calvin destroyed its walls; but “ Booinus removed its very foundations.” Where, instead of Baby* Ion, we may read Christianity.

The Calvinists, who rejected mysteries, in the Eucharist and sere* ral other articles, upon the Bocinian principle, and who established religion upon the grounds of mere reason, without fdlowing it to be founded by Christian authority, were often at a loss for an answer in defending the far more incomprehensible mysteries of the Trinity and Incarnation, against the Antitrinitarians. Vet being unwilling te set aside Christianity itself, by stripping it of every advantage of which it is possessed, they repressed these errors by the sword. But within a century great numbers amongst them have so far shook off the yoke of Christianity, as to have adopted the Socuuan system of republican tion. Diderot and d’Alembert, in the £ncpdop4iet on the article Genitvd, attribute it in general to the most learned ministers and pro- fessors in that state. The pastors at Geneva, in 1760, printed a jus** tification, in which they denied the charge, but in such a manner as rather persuades the World of the truth of the accusation, then serves to clear their characters. And d’Alembert, in his MiecetUmeimt Pieces printed at Paris and London, repeats the same charge in the following words, in his Short Account of the Government of Geneva: “ Perfect Socinianism is the religion of most of their pasters. Bo* *< jeering every thing that is called mystery, they imagine the first

* principle of a religion that is true, is to propose nothing as an arti- u Ole of frith that is not reconcileabta to reason. Thus, whan they g( are urged with the necessity of revelation, so essential a doctrine iff “ Christianity, they substitute the term of ntilihfr which they like “ better. In this, if they are not orthodox, they are at least consistent

* With their own principles.”

In England, upon the changes introduced into religion, Ariunism Wes rise revived in various shapes ; but was speedily crushed by the tame means as at Geneva. In the reign of Edward VL, John a Lasso, a Polish gentleman, came over to England, with many others who fallowed him from Westphalia and Holland. The Duke of Somerset, then regent, granted him a license to open a dissenting meeting-house in London, in which he railed With indecent rage against the use of surplices, the custom of kneeling in receiving the tacrament, and several other things retained ih the church then esta- blished. Upon the accession of Queen Mary to the throne, John a Ltaco, with nis German and other foreign colleagues, set sail from Gravesend, on the 17th of September, 1558, for Denmark, whore they landed on the 29th of October. The Kings Whose protection they implored, at the solicitation of his Lutheran ministers, gave them very harsh language, separated their troop, and commanded them without delay to leave his dominions by different wayfc* A Laseo

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repaired to Hamburg, Lubec, Wismar, and other places ; but was no sooner arrived than he was ordered to depart, till he hid himself in East Friseland. At Hamburg, indeed, his colleague, Martin Micro- nius, was admitted to two colloquies with Joachim Westphal us, super- intendent of that Lutheran church, who, with great warmth, main- tained the real presence of the body of Christ in the Eucharist, so long as the elements, or their taste, remain in the worthy receiver. Micronius published a relation of this controversy, and of the perse- cutions which he and his companions had every where met with among the Lutherans, dated at Norden, in East Friseland, 1557, under the title of Apologeticum Scriptum Martini Micronii. In the Confession of Faith, which he presented to the senate of Hamburg, he acknow- ledges, in very explicit terms, the mysteries of the Trinity and Incar- nation. Yet we have reason to presume, that among the Germans, in the foreign church of a Lasco in London, many introduced hete- rodox opinions on those articles. It is certain, that such errors, though not reduced to any regular system, prevailed among some of the first Anabaptists, who, soon after Luther had commenced his se- paration from the church, taught in Saxony, Westphalia, Holland, and Switzerland, that the church of Christ consists only of the just ; (which error had taken root in those parts from the Waldcnses and Hussites who had broached it.) The Anabaptists added, that God would establish a new Jerusalem on earth, which should be a puro city of their sect of saints ; that magistrates are needless among Christians, who being all holy, stand in need of no laws; that no tithes nor taxes, are to be paid : no interest for money ; that goods are to be in common ; that the Holy Ghost continually speaks to the faithful by frequent revelations and visions ; and that the baptism of infants is tnc devil’s invention. (See Ottius’s Annales Anabaptist tidy p. 21. Godofr. Arnoldus, Historia hsoretica, lxvi. c. 21. Fues- lin, &c.) The tumults, rebellions, and plunders of the Anabaptists in Saxony, Suabia, Franconia, and other places, having armed all po- tentates against them, Menno Simons, a lewd and wicked priest, (as he acknowledges himself to have been,) in Friseland, apostatized to them, first secretly, soon after publicly, in 1537, but retrenched (at least in words) those most pernicious principles which led men into rebellion : he also condemned those Anabaptists who allowed poly- gamy and divorces at discretion. He travelled with a wife and chil- dren over Holland and Westphalia, and died in Holstein in the year 1561. From him his followers are called Menonites, now reduced to a small number in Holland. On him see Mollerus ( Citnbria Liter at a , T. ii. p. 835, and Hcrm. Sehyn’s Pleniore Deduction* Historic e Mennonit. c. 6.) Our English modern Anabaptists reject infant baptism, and generally allow no baptism but that of immersion, but in most other points are mere Calvinists. (See Crosby’s History of the English Baptists, 4 vol. 8vo.) Hornius, in his Ecclesiastical History, and others, take notice, that several among the first Ana- baptists in Germany blasphemed the Trinity, but without any regu- lar system. Probably some among those who attended John a Lasco hither, were tinctured with these errors. In the reign of Edward

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VI. only two persons sufferecTfor heresy, Joan Butcher, and George, a Dutchman, whose blasphemies were tinctured with Antitrinitanan notions* Sir John Hayward informs us, in his Life of Edward VI., that this prince was very unwilling to sign the dead-warrant for the execution of any heretics, not to send them to hell ; and remained long firm in this reason and resolution in the case of Joan Butcher, affirming that he would not drive her headlong to the devil; hut thought it best to ply her with corporal chastisements, which, with respite of time, might reduce her to good order : hut that Archbishop Cranmer, who had promoted the execution of sanguinary laws in reli- gious matters under Henry VIII., used, on this occasion, the most cogent intreaties ; and, when with mere importunity he had prevailed, the King, in subscribing his name, said, that he would lay all the charge upon the Archbishop before God. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth many were put to death in England for Arianism. To mention only those who suffered on this account at Norwich, from Broomfield’s history of that city, in 1579, Matthew Hamont Plow- right was condemned by the bishop and consistory, for denying the Godhead and power of Christ, was delivered to the sheriffs of Nor- wich, and burnt in the Castle-ditch, May 20, after both his ears had been cut off for blasphemy. In 1583, John Lewis was burnt for the like opinions, in the same city. Likewise one Cole, an Anabaptist and Arian, in 1587 ; and in 1588, Francis Ket, master of arts, having been first condemned by the bishop. Many suffered in like manner at London, and in other parts of the kingdom, as is related by Speed, Stowe, Burnet, &c. Arianism, repressed with such severity, did not openly show its head so long as these laws were executed, yet it seems to have lurked among the English Anabaptists; and in the reign of James I., Bartholomew Legate was burnt in Smithfield, for denying the Trinity; and Edward Wightman, at Litchfield, having been convicted of being an Anabaptist and Arian, and condemned first by the Bishop of Coventry and Litchfield, as Fuller and Crosby relate at length. It seems not to he doubted but that in the confu- sion caused by the grand rebellion it also found advocates, since the great poet, ftiilton, seems to rank the Son of God amongst creatures, (Par. Lost, B. iii. v. 383, 309, 409, &c.) though in many places he seems to allow him to be truly God, (B. iii. v. 306, 139 ; B. vii. v. 104, &c.) unless by Arian subtleties, ne deviates from the common rules of speech, and the received meaning of words. We are indeed informed by the author of his life, that he often changed his religious principles, from a Presbyterian turned to be an Independent and Anabaptist, and in the latter part of his life, refused to be joined in communion with any religious sect in the world.

Amongst the dissenters in England several have openly declared themselves Arians, and others Socinians ; and these heresies are now publicly professed by whole assemblies in London and elsewhere. The Anabaptists indeed in their confession of faith at London, in 1646, acknowledge “ the Father, Word, and Holy Spirit, each hav- “ ing the whole divine essence, yet the essence undivided.11 And amongst the Quakers, Wyeth, one of their first and most celebrated

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champions, in his Switch for the Snake , p. 34, and 527, confesses a distinction in the Godhead, and an essential equality between the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, though he excepts against the word person. It does not appear that George Fox, the Anabaptist shoe- maker, who first broached this sect in 1655, or his fanatic colleague, James Nailor, formerly quarter-master in Lambert’s regiment, in Cromwell’s army, explicitly denied the .. Trinity. Neither is this ex- pressed in Robert Barclay’s Apology for the Quakers. Yet they universally reject the words of Trinity or persons in God, and give no explanation of the Scripture expressions, which alone they em- ploy. Many amongst them seem to deny this mystery, and Hicks, the Anabaptist, in his famous challenge to William Penn, and George Whitehead, and the rest of the Quakers, and in his conference on this head in London, in 1674, seems clearly to prove, that George Fox himself denied the divinity of Christ, or his personal distinction without us. (See Crosby’s history of the Baptists, T. ii. p. 298.) And the learned Doctor Hickes, in his letter to Mr. Nelson, concern- ing Bishop Bull, ranks the Quakers among the Unitarians, that is, Socinians and Arians. (Life of Bull, p. 515.)

When the Socinian and Arian controversies were raised in Hol- land by the Polish refugees, they soon reached England, and many especially among the Presbyterian and Independent Ministers, warmly embraced those errors, as Mr. Nelson informs us in his life of Bishop Bull. At that time the disputes about justification had been carried on with the greatest heat, both among the Dissenters and the Divines of the established church, many leaning to Antinomianism and Liber- tinism, some to Pelagianism and Socinianism, and others adhering to the Council of Dort, Manichaeism, and Fatalism. The Solifidians, in the first class, were long and most numerous, the greater part look- ing upon this doctrine as the essence or soul of Protestantism. Mr. George Bull of Oxford, then Rector of Suddington, near Cirences- ter, in Gloucestershire, solidly confuted this error, by his Harmonia Apostolica , printed in 1669, in which he defends the doctrine of S. James concerning justification by works, and demonstrates that S. Paul teaches the same. Mr. Richard Baxter, though a fiery zealot for Presbyterianism, had also published against the doctrine of Justi- fication by faith alone, his Aphorisms on Justification, in 1649, the first of all his most voluminous writings ; for which he was warmly assailed by many of his brethren, especially by John Crandon, in Baxters Aphorisms exorcised : William Eyre, m his Vindicice Jus - tificationis Gratuitce : Christopher Cartwright, John Wallis, Lawson, Doctor Crisp, &c. Doctor Tully also wrote in defence of the same doctrine, against both Mr. Baxter and Mr. Bull. Doctor Crisp’s book being reprinted in 1690, spread abroad the errors of Pelagianism, Socinianism and Arminianism. But Dr. Daniel Williams, an Inde- pendent preacher, who succeeded Mr. Baxter in the management of this cause, refuted Crisp’s book on every artide, in 1692. Mr. John Tombes, who, having had his education at Oxford, is esteemed the most learned champion the English Anabaptists boast of, besides many books against Mr. Baxter, published in 1676, Animadversion*

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in Latin against Mr. Bull’s Harmonic* Apostolic*, in defence of the Antinoraian system* (See Crosby, T. L p. 297.) Yet Doctor Williams by his indefatigable pains had such success, that before his death the Antinomians were reduced among the Presbyterians to three or four preachers, and those of no esteem in their sect. Their number was also much diminished among the Independents and Anabaptists.

In tnese debates concerning Justification, some fell into the Soci- nian error with relation to Christ’s satisfaction, imported hither from Holland, and blasphemously maintained that Christ did not suffer or die for man’s redemption, or the satisfaction of sin, and that no satis- faction or atonement can be made for another by a commutation of persons. This error was indeed refuted b j Doctor Williams, and Bishop Stillingfieet : but this step opened a door to the main Socinian error, that Christ was a mere man, and had no existence before his temporal birth of the blessed Virgin, which, together with Arianism, in all its forms, in a short time made great progress in England. The Socinians were generally for having the controversy decided by scrip- ture and reason, without any regard to the testimony of the most ancient Christian writers. But the Arians made a very high boast, that the Fathers who lived before the first Council of Nice, were of their sentiment. Several Arian and Socinian books published in Holland, began to be dispersed in England ; and even some of those who maintained the orthodox faith of the Trinity, allowed the ex- pressions of many Anti-Nicene Fathers not to be exact, though their faith was sound. To check their confidence, Mr. Bull, in the space of five years, drew up his excellent Defence of the Nicene Faith, which he finished in 1680, and printed at Oxford, in 1685. It is chiefly levelled against Christopher Sanden or Sandius, who died at Amsterdam in 1680, author of several treatises of rank Arianism, leaning to a degree of Sorinianism. See his Scriptura TriniUUts Revelatrix : also his Nucleus Histories Ecclesiastic#, being a col- lection of historical facts and passages of writers strained in favour of Arianism. He also compiled the library of Anti- Trinitarians, which b a collection of the most noted Socinian writers, though he did not live to publish it himself. Bull had also in view to confute in this treatise several other authors, principally Zwicker, the famous Soci- nian, and certain capital mistakes of Petaw ; likewise Epbcopius, and Curcell»us, the Arminian Arians. In the first part of thb work he demonstrates from Scripture and the tradition of the Anti-Nicene Fathers, the pre-existence of Christ in a far more excellent nature, before he was born of the Virgin. In the second, that he is of the same divine and incommunicable nature or essence with the Father, and co-eternal with him. In the third, against the Sabellians and Tritheists, that he proceeds from the Father, but by the necessity of his existence from eternity. Whence the Father is the fountain, original, and principal of the Son : but the term of subordination, which Mr. Bull hare uses, and which Dr. Waterland calls Subordi- nation of Order , not of nature, for what the church expresses by

the words Order , Mission , Procession, *&d Productions is a mv

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language, unknown to the scriptures and church, and though ortho- doxly explained by these authors, nevertheless improper ; the word subordination usually implying a submission or dependence. Whence some took occasion to lay to this author's charge the monstrous heresy of Tritheism, which some English writers then espoused. Doctor Clarke, Mr. Whiston, and other Arians, have endeavoured to avail themselves of this concession, and manner of speaking, in Doctor Bull and his followers; and Doctor John Edwards, of Cambridge, in his Animadversions on Doctor Clarke, severely condemns Bishop Pearson, and Bishop Bull, for such expressions as imply any subordi- nation or inferiority of the Son as Son ; for they tend to overthrow, or at least to give mistaken apprehensions of the Trinity. Doctor Bull seems indeed more excusable in using this new term, as his design was chiefly to exclude the heretical expressions of Calvin, who styles the Son not God of God , Light of Lighty but God of himself, ayroOeog, no loss than the Father ; which is to deny his procession, and the Father's prerogative of first principle and origin in the Divi- nity : which takes away the distinction of persons or hypostases, and either confounds them with the Sabellians, or distinguishes the natures with the Tritheists. This several authors, both among Protestants and Catholics, call Calvin's Heresy of Autotheists. Sec Calvin. Instit. Thcol. Li. c. 13, § 19* Danams Isagog. Christ. 1. i.c. 23, who with several other Calvinists warmly vindicates that point : and the Censures of Bellarmin, Posse vin, (1. de Athcis. 3. Ilaer. c. G,) Petau, Arminius, Episcopius, and Curcellacus: Bull, (Sect. iv. c. i. § 8,) &c. From the heads of the Catholic doctrine concerning the Son, established by Mr. Bull, the Divinity of the Holy Ghost is easily unfolded ; w hich this author, though but incidentally, demon- strates. For he shows, first, against the Sabellians, that the Holy Ghost is not a mere energy of the Father ; but is a distinct person. Secondly, that he is of the same nature and essence with the Father and the Son; and thirdly, co-eternal. Fourthly, yet is not self- originated, but from eternity by the necessity of the very existence of the Deity, proceedeth from the Father and the Son. This work, notwithstanding some few mistakes in understanding some passages of the Fathers, did the author great honour, both among Catholics and Protestants. Bossuet, bishop of Meaux, (Premier Avertisement sur les Lottres de Jurieu contre l’Histoire des Variations, sec. 25,) and other Catholics highly applaud it. The University of Oxford, in full convocation, made a public acknowledgment of the singular honour done them by a former member, and the lasting service done to the whole church ; and in 1686, admitted him to the degree and title of Doctor in Divinity, though he had never taken any academical de- gree, not so much as in arts.

Episcopius (Instit. 1. iv. c. 34,) and Curcclkeus (1. de Necessitate Cognitionis Christi ,) had written against the anathema pronounced by the Council of Nice against the Arians, pretending there is no necessity of believing in what sense or manner Christ is called the Son of God. This Latitudinarian notion found advocates in England. It was explained and strongly enforced in a book printed at Oxford

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in 1690, under the title of The naked Gospel ; condemned and ordered to be publicly burnt by the Convocation of the University of Oxford, on the 19th of August, the same year. Nevertheless, shoals of writings in defence of that book, and of the whole Socini&n system, made their appearance : among these, The Historical Ftn- dication of the naked Gospel , was either originally written by the famous John le Clerc of Amsterdam, or by him translated into his Ztife of Eusebius of Ccesarea. Against this prevailing error, Doctor Bull wrote and printed at Oxford in 1694, his Judgment of the Catholic Churchy in which, from Scripture, the ancient Creeds, and the Fathers of the three first centuries, he demonstrates the necessity and obligation of believing the Divinity of God the Son, and the adorable mystery of his Incarnation.

Daniel Swicker, a Prussian physician, who was born at Dantzick in 1612, and died at Amsterdam in 1678, had published many very pernicious pieces in defence of Socinianism before Sandius entered the lists, who often copies him. This bold and subtle heresiarch pretended that the divine generation of Christ was the invention of Simon Magus and his disciples, who corrupted the simplicity of the gospel : the beginning of the gospel of St. John, he called a forgery of some Simonian heretic ; from which he would have it that Justin Martyr, and the succeeding Fathers, learned their doctrine of the pre-existence of the divine Word. Besides a great number of Sod- nian books, to which he openly prefixed his name, Sandius informs us that he was author of the famous Irenicum Irenicoruntf or Triple Rule of the Recondler of Christians, by reason, scripture, and sound tradition, printed at Amsterdam in 1658, in which the Socinian venom is most subtily instilled. These works of Swicker being dispersed in England, Doctor Bull confuted them by a third treatise, entitled, Primitive and Apostolical Tradition concerning the Divinity of Jesus Christy printed at London in 1703. Doctor Bull was preferred by Queen Anne, in 1703, to the bishoprick of St. David, and died in 1709^ His works were warmly attacked by Mr. Gilbert Clarke, an Antitrinitarian, in three treatises, the first printed in 1695, under the title of Ante-Nicenismusy or the Testimonies of the Fathers who wrote before the Council of Nicey touching the Trinity . The second in Latin, Fourteen Short An - swers to Doctor BuWs Defence of the Nicene Council . The third. The True and Ancient Faith concerning the Divinity of Christ . This author only follows Swicker and Sandius, whom he often copies ; was of Sidney- College, in Cambridge ; but left his fellowship there in 1655, because he would not take the degree of Bachelor, or conform any longer to the church of England. He was well versed in the mathematics, in the Greek language, and the critical study of the Scriptures. By reading the Socinian writers, he imbibed their poison ; yet he would say he was no Socinian, because he disagreed about the divine attributes, and the satisfaction of Christ, on both which articles his notions were entirely singular. John, Lord Arundel of Trerise, by the disputes of Dr. Sherlock, Dr. South, and others, began to be much perplexed what to believe concerning the Trinity! and consulted

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Bishop Bull. That prelate* who had already sufficiently defeated the Arians, answered his Lordship by a confutation of Sabellianism and Tritheism, under this title ; The Doctrine of the Catholic Churchy for the three first Ages , concerning the Trinity , in Opposition to Sa - bellianism and Tritheism .

Tritheism is an heresy little heard of in former ages. It was first broached by one John Ascasnagus, among the Syrians, as we are informed by 'Jos. Assemani. (Bibl. Orient. T. ii. p. 327.) John Philoponus, a grammarian and philosopher at Alexandria, where he died about the year 610, being deeply versed in the writings of Aris- totle and Plato, from the latter imagined a Trinity of distinct natures in the Godhead. This error was immediately condemned by the Oriental Patriarchs and Councils. (See Photius, Cod. 24, 75, and 215, &c.) With the spawn of heresies, which the pretended Refor- mation brought forth, Tritheism also was revived, first, by Valenti- nus Gentilis, who maintained in the Trinity three distinct eternal Spirits, differing in their numerical 'essences, for which error, joined with Arianism, he was beheaded at Bern, on the 9th of September, 1566, and afterwards by two eminent divines of the Protestant Church of England. Dr. Ralph Cudworth, eminent for theology, and parti- cularly for his deep researches in the systems of ancient philosophy, published against the Deists in 1678, his True Intellectual System of the Universe , in folio, a work fraught with great erudition, in which, with regard to the Deity, Spirits, and Ideas, he followed Plato, and even the latter Platonists. From his imaginary notion of the obscure Platonic Trinity, he maintained that the three persons are three distinct spiritual substances ; but that the Father alone is truly and properly God, or properly supreme, and that absolute honour is due to nim only, the Son and Holy Spirit, being God only, by the Father’s concurrence with them, and their subordination and subjec- tion to him. He allowed, indeed, that the divine attributes, such as omnipotence, omniscience, and the rest, may be ascribed to them ; but said they are not omnipotent ad intro, or of themselves, but only by means of the Father’s concurrence. This system, framed by mix- ing heathen philosophy with divinity, in a point which is to be de- cided by revelation only, implied downright Arianism ; but seems to have died with its author.

Tritheism soon after was abetted in a warmer and more dangerous manner, by Dr. William Sherlock, then Master of the Temple. Hav- ing taken the degree of Master of Arts at Cambridge, and being made Rector of St. George’s, Botolph-lane, London, in 1673, he attacked the Solifidian and the Antinomian doctrines, by a book On the Know - ledge of Christ, and our union with him, chiefly levelled against Dr. John Owen’s book, On communion with the Father , Sony and Holy Ghost . Owen and others answered him with rage ; and Sherlock carried on the controversy, with equal heat ; but with too much wit and pleasantry for so serious a subject. In 1680, he took the degree of Doctor of Divinity, and was made, in 1685, Master of the Temple* In the reigns of Charles II. and James II. he wrote warmly for the doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance tp the supreme

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powers ; and in 1689, was suspended from all his preffittieiiti. During this suspension he wrote nis book, entitled A practical dis- course concerning Death , which was licensed in January, 1690 ; hut he took the oaths to William 111. and Queen Mary, toward the close of the same year. In 1691, he published against the Socinians his Vindication of the doctrine of the Trinity , in which he clearly teaches three distinct minds and spirits ita the Deity. (P. 67, 86, 123, &c.) However, that veTy year, on the 15th of July, he suc- ceeded Dr. Tillotson, who was promoted to the Archbisnoprick of Canterbury, in the Deanery of S. Paul's. Dr. South, who had been successively chaplain to the Earl of Clarendon, the Duke of York and King Charles II., this same year published Animadversions on the vindication of the Trinity, and besides many other tracts, one in 1695, entitled. Tritheism charged upon Dr . Sherlock r, and the charge made good. Dr. Sherlock maintained his error by many treatises, and the disputation was carried on by both parties with the greatest acrimony. The Doctor's notion having been asserted in a sermon preached before the university of Oxford ; by one of the University College, the doctrine was condemned by a general meeting of the Vice-chancellor and heads of Colleges and Halls, 25th Not. 1695, as false, impious, and heretical ; contrary to the doctrine of the Catho- lic church, and particularly of the church of England. Dr. Sherfock wrote An examination on the Authority and Reasons of this Decree , and other virulent pieces ; and was answered by Dr. Edwards, princi- pal of Jesus College and others. A stop was put to this debate, by directions of King William III. to the Arcnbishops mid Bishops, Issued at their motion, in which it was ordained, that in the explication of the Trinity all new terms should be avoided. See the history of these matters in the Life of Valentinus Gentilis, the Tritheist, with an appendix against Dr. Sherlock, the new Tritheist, printed in 1696 ; also in Burnet's history if his own times, vol. iii, p. 213. Biographia Britannica in Sherlock and South. In 1798 died, Mr. Firmin, the chief propagator of Socinianism in England : yet Socinjan books con- tinued to be printed and spread in England. Dr. Sherlock in his Condo ad Clemim , before the Convocation in 1701, warmly exhorted his brethren to oppose those heretical and viperous tracts, which threatened so mucn danger to the church. He published against them: The present state of the Socinian Controversy , in 1698. Proofs of Christs Divinity , in 1706, and other pieces till his death in 1707. Doctor South, then Prebendary of Westminster, (a very eloquent writer, distinguished above all other English preachers for the brilliancy and poignancy of his wit,) as far as his controversies with Dean Sherlock, and afterward with Bishop Stillingfleet would allow him, appeared also a zealous champion in defence of the Trinity, till his deatn in 1716 j but was branded with the name of an Intolerant by Archbishop Tillotson. (See his Life by Birch, pp. 195, 354, 428.)

At this time, two new champions had entered the lists in favour of Arianism, Mr. Will Whiston, and Dr. Samuel Clarke. The lat- ter was son to an Alderman of Norwich ; gave proofs of his extra- ordinary abilities, whilst a scholar at Cambridge, and when Mr.

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Whiston, being collated to the living of Lowestoft, in Suffolk, re- signed his chaplainship to Dr. John Moore, Bishop of Norwich, succeeded him in the latter office, in 1698. Mr. Whiston tells us, that in the year 1705, ho first discovered that Dr. Clarke began to adopt the sentiments of the Arians, whom he calls Eusebians. Dr. Samuel Clarke was chosen chaplain to Queen Anne, and in 1709, was presented to the rectory of S. James’s, Westminster. Upon being settled in the city, he took the degree of Doctor in Divinity at Cam- bridge, when he maintained Free Will in his public disputation with great applause. Doctor James, Royal Professor of Divinity, who knew Mr. Whiston to be a professed Arian, suspected his friend the defendant, to be a latent one, made a digression from the Thesis to press him to condemn a proposition found in a late Essay of Whis- ton’s, that " Our Saviour had no human soul, but that the divine " Word supplied its place which Clarke eluded. In 1712, he printed his beautiful and correct edition of Ccesars Commentaries , dedicated to the Duke of Marlborough, and soon after in the same year, his Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity , of which he gave a second edition with alterations in 1719; and prepared a third with additions, which appeared after his death. In the first part he lays together the texts relating to the Trinity ; in the second he explains them in favour of Arianism ; in the third he considers the passages of scripture relating to that article. This publication was a signal given to other writers of that class, who poured upon the public an inun- dation of essays and books on this subject. The orthodox Protes- tants took the alarm, and exerted their zeal by clamours and apo- logies. Amongst these Dr. Daniel Waterland, head of Magdalen College in Cambridge, afterward Chaplain to the King, chiefly dis- tinguished’himself. His principal works in this controversy were, 1st, Waterland9 s Vindication of Christ9 s Divinity , against Dr.

Clarke , 2 vol. 8vo. 1719- A second Vindication of Christ's Divi- nity, in Answer to Dr. Clarkey 8vo. 1723. Waterland1 s Queries

relating to the Trinity , 8vo. Cambridge, 17 14. Two Defences of the Queries , ib. An excellent Commentary on the Athanasian Creedy 4to., 1724. In general though this controvertist displays great erudition and zeal, and enforces many solid proofs with strength, he laid himself open to his adversaries, by heaping up many passages little to his purpose. Dr. Clarke published answers to most of those books, and to several others. In 1714, the Lower House of Convo- cation presented a complaint to the Upper House against Dr. Clarke’s Scripture Doctriney and several defences of the same, with an ex- tract of several Arian assertions. The Upper House at first showed great zeal in prosecuting him, but afterward sought to come to tem- per. Hereupon Dr. Clarke drewr up arid laid before them a reply, in which he declares his belief, that the Son of God was eternally be- gotten by the eternal incomprehensible powder and will of the Fa- ther ; and likewise the Holy Ghost : adding, that he wrote nothing but what he sincerely intended for the honour of God, and to avoid the heresies in both extremes, and was sorry it had given offence, and did not intend to write any more on the Trinity. The Upper

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House accepted this declaration ; but the Lower urged their com- plaint that he had made no recantation of his heresies, nor satis- faction for the scandal. But the Upper House chose to let the affair drop. Dr. Clarke died in the same persuasion in 1729* An acci- dental interview and disputation with Dr. Samuel Clarke, gave occa- sion to the concise, but most learned accurate Answer to Clarke and Whiston , published by Dr. Hawarden, in 1729*

Mr. William Whiston, mathematic professor in Cambridge, having in a catechetical lecture which he had during a year in one of the parish churches in the town, and in other discourses, openly preached the Arian heresy, which on all occasions he bad long publicly professed, was heard, condemned and banished from the universit^for heresy, at a meeting of the Vice-chancellor and the Heads of Colleges, Oct. 30th, 1710, in which chair Mr. Nic. Sanderson was chosen his suc- cessor. When Dr. Clarke had often recourse to clokes to palliate his true sentiments, in order to keep his rectorship, Mr. Whiston openly delivered his tenets : the former also, when accused in 1718, of having altered the doxology in the singing Psalms, “To God, thro* Christ his Son, all glory be, &c.” answered that this had been done only by the afternoon lecturer, without his order or knowledge ; but Whiston always maintained that innovation, and wrote with warmth against the Bishop of London’s order, for not using any new forms of doxology, dated Dec. 26, 1718.

The most daring attempt in favour of Arianism, was made by Dr. Robert Clayton, Bishop of Cork and Ross, afterwards of Clogher. In his Essay of Spirit , in 1750, having laid it down as a principle, that orthodoxy is local, and varies in every country, according to the established religion of every place, he undertakes to confute the doc- trine of the Trinity, and pretendsthat Christ is the Archangel Michael incarnate, whom he allows to have been the nominal God of the Jews, so called and adored ; because commissioned by God to govern and protect that nation : and on this account called Jehovah of Sion, a creature framed by Jehovah of Hosts, the only true Supreme God. The Holy Ghost tie thinks the Archangel Gabriel. This latter as- sertion, indeed, in his Defence of the Essay of Spirity he only calls a conjecture. His repeated boasts of his readiness to die a martyr in that cause, could not stand the first threats of the least disgrace. When on the second of February, 1756, he had made a speech in the House of Lords in Ireland, for excluding the Nicene and Athan- asian Creeds out of the Liturgy, &c. an emotion being raised, and one crying out that he ought to be called upon to give an account before the House, he fell into such a consternation and agony, that his countenance was suddenly changed, and he was carried home in fits. In this state he lay so much altered, that his friends scarcely knew him, and could not sufficiently express their surprize ; in which dis- order he soon after died.

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ON THE FEAST OF CORPUS CHRISTI.

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The Old Law was given to prepare men for the great mysteries of the New Law, which as far surpasses the old as the truth does its shadow, and the reality its type and figure. The chief prerogatives of the law of the gospel appear, First, in the more distinct revelation of the truths of salvation, and of the stupendous mysteries of the di- divine Mercy. Secondly, in the wonderful accomplishment of our Redemption, which the ancient saints only believed to come. And thirdly, in the institution of the most holy sacraments, and awful sa- crifice, which Christ has left us. Sacraments are the channels of di- vine grace for the sanctification of our souls, and sacrifice is the su- preme homage by which we honour God. In these then consist the principal dignity and advantage of a religion. The blessed Eucharist is both the great sacrifice, and the most holy and most wonderful of all the sacraments of the law of Grace. Therefore, a pt^ncipal excel- lency of the new Law consists in this adorable mystery, in the insti- tution of which Christ displayed his infinite wisdom, power, and love. It is therefore just that we should celebrate the memory thereof with a festival of thanksgiving. The blessed Eucharist is the most won- derful miracle of the omnipotence of God, being a perpetuation of his adorable Incarnation amongst us. That an eternal God should be born in time, and die on a cross for sinful man, is a prodigy which men and angels will admire in raptures of astonishment to all eternity, without being ever able to fathom it. It is a mystery which creatures could never nave known to be possible to Almighty power itself, had they not seen it effected. But it is a mystery the more worthy an infinite God, the more it is exalted above the comprehension of the most sublime created intelligences. But the Almighty did not stop here : he renews and continues the same to the end of the world in the holy sacrament of the altar, and this in the most wonderful manner. We behold the outward appearance of bread after consecration the same as before. Our senses discern the same physical accidents, the colour, quantity, taste, and other qualities of bread ; nor are they de- ceived in their immediate object; for they receive these impressions. Yet no bread is present : these accidents are without their subject. The laws of nature are subject to the will of their Creator. He who established them, and framed all things in the most admirable harmony and wisdom, is master to suspend, change, and dispose them at pleasure, for the greater manifestation of his power. Thus we read many stupendous miracles wrought by him. But the holy Eucharist is the most wonderful of all miracles, being a mystery by which the Creator of all things chose to show the extent of his power, and the inexhausted richness of his greatness and of his love. The bread sub-

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sists uo more, though its appearances or accidents remain, for the ex- ercise of our faith, and to conceal the adorable mystery from our cor- poral eyes : for if we saw, we should no longer have faith, and if Christ had given himself visible to us, this would be no longer a sacra- ment, a veil, or a mystery. But the substance of the bread is changed into that of the precious body of Christ, by that same power which made all things out of nothing, and which can as easily re- produce the same body in a different place, as it can destroy any created body and produce the same again. Thus the sacred humanity of Christ, which reigns at the right hand of the Father, placed above all creatures in heaven, is re-produced on the altar, but in its glorified and impassible state, and existing truly and really, but in a spiritual manner, without its external quantity and extension, whole and entire in every host, and if a division be made, in every sensible particle there- of, as long as the species or appearances of the bread remain : and thus is it multiplied, as often as the bread is consecrated, over the whole world, from the Ascension of Christ to the end of time. As the body of Christ is here in its glorified state, it is perfect and entire under each species ; consequently in that of bread is contained the blood in the body ; and in that of the wine, the sacred body is pro- duced together with the blood. With body and blood the soul of Christ must likewise be there 2 and by concomitance , the second per- son of tHe adorable .Trinity, hypostatically united to this humanity. Also by circuminsession, as divines speak, the other two divine per- sons, as they have but one individual nature, and are one God ; so that here are present Christ , both God and man, and the whole blessed Trinity, who by his immensity fills the creation, but who is particularly with the sacred humanity of Christ What a compli- cation of miracles do we here admire in one mystery? S. Thomas, and the church in his words in her office of this day, call it the per- petual pledge of our Saviour’s passion ; the abridgment of his sacred mysteries ; the greatest of all the miracles wrought by him ; our singular comfort iu his absence ; and the accomplishment of the greatest figures of the old Law. He did not institute this sacrament in the beginning of his ministry ; he would prepare his disciples to the belief of it, by turning water into wine, and by innumerable other miracles wrought before them. Indeed, when they saw a God made man and dying for men, what could they think impossible for his goodness tq do ? After all, the holy Eucharist can never seem in- credible to one who already believes the Incarnation of the Son of God. Infinite Wisdom contends with Infinite Power in this holy mystery, to which we may apply those words of the wise man ? “ Sa» “ pientia aedificavit sibi domum : (Prov. ix. 1.) Wisdom hath built “ herself a house.” For none but a God could have formed such a design, or invented so stupendous and so noble a means of grace, which surpasses the understanding of all creatures, and is the object of perpetual astonishment to the highest Cherubim : here Almighty Power, Infinite Love, Goodness, and Mercy, meet in the most admi- rable manner ; the most noble and most powerful remedy is ap- plied to all our deep wounds; a seed of incorruptibility is planted in

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our mortal bodies ; and the source of all grace is conferred upon us. Our Divine Redeemer has hereby contrived to satisfy his Love, and to consult our spiritual good, by affording us, during our exile, the comfort of his true and real presence amongst us, whilst our own ad- vantages, and the wise dispensation of his holy providence for the necessities of our present state of probation, keep him absent from our senses. But though he may seem in some sense to have even exhausted his Omnipotence, and the inventions of his infinite Wis- dom, in giving us himself in so wonderful a manner, to be the nourishment of our souls ; yet his Love surpasses all other consider- ations in this adorable mystery, which is properly the sacrament of his divine love and charity. His power and wisdom in it are only subservient to his love.

S. John Damascen, beginning to speak of the holy Eucharist, uses these epithets:* (1. iv.de Fide Orthod. c. 14, p. 314.) M The good, “ the all-good, the infinitely good God, being all goodness, would “ pour forth the overflowing riches of his goodness.” And the Apos- tle S. John, the true disciple of love, ushers in the preparation for the institution of this holy sacrament in this manner : “ Jesus, know- “ ing that his hour was come, that he should pass out of this world unto “ the Father ; having loved his own who were in the world, he loved “ them unto the end.” (John xiii. 1.) Indeed in this mystery he has showed the utmost effort of, and given full scope to his boundless love. He had before demonstrated it in the most astonishing effusion of his infinite goodness ; but here he has centered in one permanent sacrament, all his former wonderful testimonies of love towards us, and has outdone them all in this last confirmation of them to his church. Not content with all he had done and suffered for us in the whole mystery of his Incarnation, and of his sacred death and passion, the more to endear himself to us, he would leave us this perpetual pledge of his love, desiring by it to be always remembered and thought of by us : “ Do this for a commemoration of me.” (Luke xxii. 19.) It is the . ordinary language of lovers to promise never to forget one another. This our Lord Jesus was pleased here to recommend to us, and that by the strongest pledge. What could it concern him if we should forget him? The loss would be wholly ours, whose happiness it is always to think of him, and extreme misery to be without him. It is infinite goodness and condescension that he is pleased to be the object of our unworthy mean thoughts, to enter such base minds, and suffer himself to be thought on amidst so many vanities and follies ; nay, so many sinful objects, and polluted affections. But alas ! he justly complains, after all, that he is forgotten by us. In what state will Jesus have us always to remember him ? In that of his passion and death, the more to inflame our love. “ As often as you shall eat this “ bread, or drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until he come.” (I Cor. xi. 26.) Must not his precious wounds, as so many mouths inviting U9, move us to love him ? Can we behold, touch, and receive under these sacramental veils, that adorable flesh

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which was laid in the manger, which was buffeted, torn, and hung on the cross for us ; and which now shines glorious in heaven at the right hand of the Father, and not be all inflamed with his holy love, remembering the excess of his love, and what he has suffered for us ! For this mystery is the strongest pledge of his love, given us to put us in mind of all those things. Christ himself commands us herein to remember him and his sufferings. “ This do for the commemoration of “ me.” (1 Cor.xi.24.) He instituted the blessed Eucharist to be a com- memorative sacrifice with regard to that bloody one which he offered on Mount Calvary ; though it be likewise a real unbloody sacrifice, or a renovation of the same in an unbloody manner, for the 'daily ap- plication of its firuits. He established it to be a sacrament, or sacred sign of his presence concealed under the veils ; which veils are called a type and figure, though he be really present under them, because he is there in an invisible manner, so that he is still absent to our senses. The presence of Christ in the Eucharist, savs a learned prelate,* satiates not our hearts ; because we do not see him perfectly ; it only inflames and excites our desires. It is something for the lover to know that his beloved is in the house, and already to smell his per- fumes ; but if he open not the door, if he pierce not the veils, the rigors of his absence are not over ; but rather show themselves the more. Jesus Christ knows this language, and when he says : “ I go M away,” he accustoms us to understand it of his sensible presence. “ I go to the Father, and you shall see me no longer,” saith he. (John xvi. 10.) The privation of the sight of him whom we love is a mis- fortune, as nothing can content us, unless we can behold and enjoy him. Hence the Eucharist itself is an absence of Christ to a heart that loves, because such a one languishes to u know him, as he is known by him,” (1 Cor. xiii. 12,) and u to be made like to him, by M seeing him as he is himself.” (1 John iii. 4.) His glory is con- cealed in the Eucharist, and till that be revealed, as S. Teresa amo- rously complains, nothing can satisfy our desires, and we look upon him still as absent. Hence he sent another Comforter, an invisible Comforter within our souls, whose sweet presence, by animating our faith and our hope, eases our groans, and makes our pilgrimage more supportable. Hence also he would institute this holy sacrament, in which he would always remain really with us, though concealing him- self to our senses, as the nature of our present state required.

Our good and all our happiness depended on his leaving us. It was necessary that he should take possession of his glory, and complete his triumph : that he should open heaven for us, should send his Pa- raclete, should wean our affections from every thing on earth, and draw our hearts and all our desires up to heaven. He must then go away for our sakes ; but his love would still stay with us under an invisible disguise, and it moved him to invent and institute this won- derful sacrament for that purpose. He both went to prepare places for us in his kingdom of glory, and remained always with us, though he could not do it in the rays of his Majesty in the wise economy of

• Bossuet, ExpL d* la Messe , c. 44. p. 86.

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our salvation. Queen Esther swooned away at the majesty of Assu- erus. (Estb. zv.) The Jews, being terrified, begged that Moses might speak to them, and not God. (Ezod. xxxix.) Daniel was not able to bear the glorious apparition of an angel, (Dan. x.) How then could we have borne to behold God among us in the brightness of his glory ? Nor could that have suited our present time of faith and trial. There- fore, as his love could not suffer a separation from us, he would abide hidden in this sacrament with us, to the end of the world. To be sensible of the excess of his infinite love in instituting this holy sacra- ment, we must remember, that he who gives us this great mystery, is the immense Lord of Majesty and glory, who stoops so low, as not only to think with love and mercy of us weak miserable creatures, covered with sin and the dreadful guilt of repeated treasons against him, but to confer on us the greatest good, and the richest gift he could bestow, even himself. The time when he made us this present, was when he was going to “ pass out of this world to his Father.” A friend, in the last moments of his parting, summons up all his tender- ness, and perfectly melts away, and sinks under it. Our blessed Jesus felt these emotions the most vehement that human heart was able to do, a&no soul was ever endued with a charity like his. He foresaw the fury of our enraged spiritual enemies, and perfectly knew our frame, our weakness, our miseries, and clangers; he was bidding us his last farewell in this world ; his bowels were moved with pity and love ; and in these moments, he devised his divine testament in our favour 5 in which he bequeathed to us, not earthly empires, or any worldly treasures, empty shadows, and dan- gerous snares ; but a legacy, a gift worthy a God, such as he alone could bestow, or have thought on ; for it was no other than himself. In his passion he was himself to be our victim, to suffer and die for us ; he bestows himself on us again in his heavenly kingdom, to be our joy, our crown, and our infinite reward and bliss to all eternity ; and not content with all this, he would give us himself in these sacred mysteries, to be our daily spiritual food, our comfort, and our strength, during the term of our exile on earth. He foresaw the monstrous in- gratitude, insensibility, outrages, sacrileges, and profanations, which he should meet with in the world, in this adorable invention of love ; how some would blaspheme it ; others would repeat the perfidiousness of Judas, by receiving it unworthily, and in a state of mortal sin ; others would slight it, and out of sloth seldom approach his divine banquet, suffering their souls to perish in the mean time with spiritual famine ; and that very many would treat him in it without respect, or even at- tention to his presence. All this he knew : he foresaw distinctly every particular abuse and insult of men against this sacrament, to the end of time. Yet nothing could assuage the flame of his love. He de- sired from all eternity to give this proof of it, to the astonishment of all .creatures 5 but more especially from the first moment of his Incar- nation. Whence also he said: (Luke xxii. 19«) With desire I have desired” (that is to say, with the most vehement, languishing desire) u to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.” Vesidei'io desi * dei'avi , &c. He had overturned the most constant laws of nature in

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becoming man for us: he did the same again, by the most unheard of miracles, that he might give us himself in this heavenly banquet. This he did, that he might unite us to himself by the strongest and closest alliance. *• He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, “ abideth in me, and I in him.” (John vi. 57.) It is the property of love to desire the strictest union. Jesus, the eternal Lover of our souls, invented and instituted this sacrament that he might make us one with himself, to clothe us with his riches. For here he bestows on us his greatest gifts.

For the effects of the holy Eucharist in our souls are : first, that by it we are made concorpureal with Christ, in the communion of his divine flesh and blood, to use the expression of S. Cyril of Jerusalem,

( Cat. 22. p. 319* Ed. Ben.) S. Cnrysostom, ( Horn . vi. in Hebr.) and other Fathers. Christ mingles himself with us, and makes him- self our spiritual food. But whereas our corporal food is converted into our substance, we, by this spiritual nourishment, are changed and transformed into Christ , and made most perfectly his members. Whence S. Austin makes Christ thus to address himself to a soul : ( Conf. b. 7. c. 10:) “ I am the food of those that are grown up: “ grow thou up, and thou shalt feed on me : neither shadt thou con- “ vert me into thee, like thy corporal food ; but thou shall be changed “ unto me.” And S. Leo writes ( Serm . 14. de Pass.) : w The parti- “ cination of the body and blood of Christ makes us to pass into that “ which we receive.” This spiritual union of the soul with Christ is a permanent grace in the soul from the sacrament, but is lost by mortal sin.

A second principal effect of the holy Eucharist, is the conservation and great increase of habitual charity and grace, the spiritual life of the soul : whence it is called the bread of life, the food and the life of the soul. (John vi.) It also increases the properties of habitual grace, especially divine love, and all the infused virtues ; and it confers abun- dantly actual graces, and a title to others in particular occasions, or temptations. God is the bread of angels, who feed on him whom they behold in his glory ; we, in our present state of mortality, are nourished by him under these veils. Nature uses an artifice to feed little babes, and converts the substance of the mother into milk for their sustenance ; and God converts himself into a kind of milk, to use the expression of S. Austin, (in Ps. 33,) to nourish our souls in the disguise of this sacrament.

Thirdly, the holy Eucharist preserves us from, and strengthens us against mortal sin. “ This is the bread that cometh down from hea- “ ven, that if any man eat of it, he may not die.” (John vi. 56), 59.

Fourthly, when received with dispositions of penitence, it remits venial sins.

Fifthly, it weakens the strength of our enemies, allays the heat of the passions, and strengthens our souls against temptations. Whence S. Bernard says : ( Serm . de Bapt . et »Sacr. Attar . p. 89 L) “ If any “ of you do not now feel so often, or so violently the motions of “ anger, of envy, of lust, or the like, let him give thanks to the body “ and blood of the Lord ; because the virtue of the sacrament works “ in him.” And S. Cyril of Alexandria: (1. iv. in Joan. c. 2.) “ It is

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“ incredible, nay, impossible, that life should not give life to those in “ whom it is. For as if we hide a spark of fire in the ashes, to keep a “ seed of fire, so our Lord by his flesh hides life in us, and as it were “ plants a seed of immortality, which takes away all corruption.*’ This virgin flesh gives a particular grace by its touch against the pas- sion of impurity. And as it is the cement of the union of the faithful together in the blood of Christ ; fraternal charity is its characteristic : whence it is called Communion.

Sixthly, it plants in us a seed of incorruption and immortality, as S. Irenseus and other Fathers remark. u He who eateth me hath “ everlasting life, and I will raise him up in the last day.” (John vL 55.)

Seventhly, it is a hidden manna, and a source of spiritual sweetness and joy to devout loving souls. “ By which spiritual sweetness is tasted in its fountain,” says S. Thomas. (Opusc. 57*) M* de Mahis, a convert from Calvinism, and a devout canon of Orleans, writes that he found Jesus so sweet in the holy communion, that a taste thereof would, he thinks, bring all the Calvinists to the true faith. See Salmeron in 1 Pet. i. 9.

Lastly, it is a pledge of future glory, that we shall one day see him in his glory, whom we now receive in this hidden state, as S. Peter Damian and S. Teresa devoutly sing in their Canticles.

We have another evidence of the excess of Christ’s love to us in the blessed Eucharist, in the time when he left us this holy mystery* Nothing ought rather to have hindered him from taking his aboae amongst us than this circumstance. For what treatment did he meet with from men on earth ? He was no sooner born than he was per- secuted ; he met with poverty, contempt, calumnies, blasphemies, and torments from men ; and at that very time they were busy in contri- ving his most ignominous and cruel death. What then could move him to abide still with us, only the excess of his love ? And what return does he ask ? No other than that we should love, honour, and often devoutly receive him in this holy sacrament, and this for no other end than that we may receive the infinite advantages and graces which he desires to confer upon us : and for which he instituted this divine ban- quet, making himself in it our daily nourishment, strength, comfort, and support ; and the source of all spiritual graces and benedictions ; and imparting to our corruptible flesh a seed of immortality and eter- nal life : becoming moreover for us, in the sacrifice of the altar, our daily victim and our advocate, pleading for us to the eternal Father ; supplying by his love what is wanting in ours towards God, and offer- ing himself to his Father in our name. We have nothing to offer worthy the immensity of God; but in the sacrifice of the Eucharist we have a victim in our hands which is infinite, and a homage worthy the greatness of his Majesty: a thanksgiving proportioned to the immensity of his benefits : a perfect sacrifice of satisfaction for all our sins, and of impetration of all graces. Instead of reaping all these inestimable advantages, and making return of gratitude, devotion, and fidelity, men alas ! often repay this mercy with the most outrageous injuries against the adorable sacrament itself; in which our Lord

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residing now on our altars, complains still as he did on the cross : “ They have given me gall for my food ; and in my thirst they have given me vinegar to drink.” (. Ps. Ixviii.) Infidels and heretics insult him by obstinately denying tne truth of this mystery, and by their blasphemies against it. And Catholics, by sacrilegious communions, indecent behaviour at Mass, or in the church, or. by their Pagan fives, multiply their outrages against their most loving Lord in this great mystery of love. O who will give water to my head, and a fountain of tears to my eyes, to bewail these indignities ? O may the heaven and the earth, angels and men, all creatures, sensible and insensible, join in praising the goodness of our God in this holy sacrament, and in studying by their redoubled homages to repair the injuries he here receives. Sun and rocks, which were sensible at the death of your Lord and Maker, why are ye not also at the irreverences offered him in the blessed sacrament ? O sun, cover thyself with darkness ! And O ye rocks, rend yourselves with horror ! Descend at least, O holy angels, zealous defenders of the glory of Jesus Christ ; come and weep bitterly over these disorders. And O chaste spouses of Christ, and all ye faithful lovers of your divine Redeemer, assemble in troops, and by your devout enflamed praises, and homages of love and adoration, honour your God in this wonderful mystery, and make what atonement is in your power to his most amiable injured charitv. Offer up your labours, and all your actions to God for this end : receive frequently the holy sacrament with the greatest devotion pos- sible : assist at the holy sacrifice with the greatest fervour and assidu- ity : adore and visit Christ on the altar, as one on his throne of mercy ; and behave in his sanctuary, or holy place, with the most awful respect and reverence, saluting devoutly the holy sacrament with these aspirations of love and praise : “ may Christ be ever adored and u praised in the most holy sacrament ” And never fail to employ this festival and the octave in particular practices of devotion towards this most venerable mystery of our religion.

The more insolently heresy began to insult this adorable sacrament, the more solicitous did the church show herself to promote in the souls of her children true devotion and respect to it. Its institution was always celebrated with solemn thanksgiving to the divine good- ness on Maundy Thursday in Holy Week. But that time being mostly taken up in commemorating the sufferings of our blessed Redeemer, a proper solemn festive! was appointed to honour this great mystery, by the zeal of many pious persons favoured with heavenly revelations and miracles, especially in the person of blessed Juliana, of Mount Cornillon near Liege. This solemnity was first ordered to be celebrated in a synod held at Liege, in the year 1246. Pope Urban IV., in 1264, fixed it on the Thursday after the Octave of Whitsunday, commanding it to be observed in the whole church with a solemnity equal to the four great festivals of the year. In his bull, which begins: “ Transiturus de hoc mundo,” after having extolled this wonderful sacrament, he delivers himself in these words : “ In “ this most holy commemoration we shed tears, devoutly rejoicing : for our heart all bathed with gladness, causes the eyes to pour forth

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“ tears. O the immensity of the divine love ! O overflowing divine “ piety ! O most profuse liberality of our God ! He had already 44 given us all things : he had conferred upon us the dominion of all 44 creatures upon the earth ; and had so exalted us as to appoint his 44 angels to assist us, whom he has sent to minister for them who 44 shall receive the inheritance of salvation. Though his bounty had 44 been so great, to show it still more, out of the immense charity 44 which he bears us, he hath given himself to us ; and surpassing all 44 his other liberalities, exceeding all manner of love, he gives himself 44 to us to be our food. O singular and admirable bounty, in which 14 he that gives is the gift himself. Prodigious is the liberality, when 44 any one gives himself. He bestows himself for our nourishment, 44 to the end that man, who was fallen to death by one kind of food, 44 should be raised to life by another meat : man fell by the mortal 44 apple, and is again raised by the food of the tree of life. On the 44 other tree hung the morsel of our death : on this the nourishment 44 of our life. The taste of that overthrew us : the taste of this 44 saves us. Behold, how where the evil has entered, from thence 44 has come the medicine ; and from w hence death sprang, life has 44 also come forth. It was said of the other meat: The day that thou 44 eatest of it thou shalt die ; and it is said of this : He that eats of 44 this bread shall live for ever. O most excellent sacrament ! O 44 sacrament worthy to be adored, reverenced, glorified, honoured, 44 exalted with most singular praises, recommended by the loudest ac- 44 clamations, entertained in pure and chaste breasts,” &c. After many other high encomiums, he exhorts all the Faithful, by their extraordinary devotion on this day, to confound, if possible, the per- fidiousness of heretics, and to repair and make amends for all former tepidity in assisting at, or celebrating the Mass, or in receiving the holy communion. He grants also perpetual indulgences, command- ing all pastors carefully to give notice, the Sunday before the feast, to all their parishes and diocesses, exhorting them by remonstrances and wholesome discourses, 44 that,” says he,44 with a clear and entire 44 confession of their sins, with prayers, alms, and other works of 44 charity and devotion, they may so prepare themselves as to deserve 44 that day to partake of this blessed sacrament, and receive it with “reverence, and by it obtain an augmentation of graces. To 44 encourage the Faithful to honour and celebrate this great feast, we 44 grant to all that do confess their sins, and are truly penitent, who 44 shall be found in the church at the Matins of the said feast, one 44 hundred days pardon, and as many to those who shall devoutly %< assist at Mass, and at the first or second Vespers ; likewise, for 44 each of the lesser canonical hours of that day ; prime, tierce, none 44 and complin, forty days ; and that those who shall be present the 44 days within the octaves, at the canonical hours, as is said, for every 44 day’s assistance, we grant them one hundred days of pardon.” This bull was confirmed by Pope Clement V., in a general council, held at Vienne, in France, in the year 1311. (Clement Si Dominum in Sanctis, Tit . 16. De Sanctorum Relir/uiis and Veneratiojie.) Pope Martin V. again renewed and confirmed this bull, and the privileges

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and indulgences contained in it, adding others, and commanding all prelates and pastors to publish them in all their churches, on the Sunday before this festival. See his bull , Jneffabtle Sacramentum , An. 1429- ( Bullar T. i. p. 328.) Pope Eugenius IV. Repeats the precept to all pastors of promulging them yearly ; confirms all the abovesaid bulls ; but doubles the number of days in each of the indulgences mentioned in them all. Read his bully Excellentissi - mum Corporis et Sanguinis Domini nostri J. C. Sacramentum. (Bullar. T. i. p. 342.)

We adore .Christ present in the holy sacrament of the altar. Even as man he is to be honoured with supreme adoration, because he subsists by the second divine person. Hence the Council of Trent proves the Eucharist is to be adored, from Hebr. i. 6 : “ Let all the angels of God adore him.” He is truly in this holy sacrament whom the Magi adored in the manger ; and the Apostles and other devout persons during his mortal life on earth; whom, on our altars the angels adore with trembling, and whom the faithful have always ap- proached and received with some exterior action of adoration. For which, see St. Austin (in Ps. cxviii.) ; St. Chrysostom (Horn. 24, in 1 Cor., and 1. iii. de Sacerd.) ; St. Cyril of Jerusalem (Cat. My stag.); Origen (Horn. 13, in Exod. and Horn. 5. dediv .); St. Gregory of Nazianzum, (Or. i. de S. Gorgonia9 p. 186,) &c.

St. Ambrose proves that the Holy Ghost is to be adored, because the flesh of Christ made of the earth, is adored in the Eucharist. “ By the earth is understood the flesh of Christ, which even on this “ day we adore in the mysteries, and which the Apostles adored in “ the Lord Jesus.” (1. iii. de Spir. So. c. 12. T. iii. p. 238. ed Beil.) St. Chrysostom lays down the rule, (Horn. 7. in Mat. T. vii. p. 112, ed Ben.,) “ that every one approach the sacrament as the Magi did " the manger, to honour ana adore”* He compares in the same place the unworthy commuuicants with Herod, who adore in treachery , and stab in adoring. And Theodoret (Dial. ii. Inconfusus , T. iv. p. 85) says of the elemeuts in the blessed Eucharist : they are believed and adored, &c.b Daille, the famous Calvinist, excuses the Lutherans in this respect, because they intend to adore the body of Christ , which is an object of adoration. (1 Rep. a Chaumont .) Protestants object, that if a host, by some mistake, should not have been consecrated, that such an adoration would certainly be idolatry. But Doctor Jer. Taylor, Thorndyke, and others of their own com- munion, will inform them, that it would be no more so, than if a stranger coming to Christ on earth had mistaken St. Peter, or some other, for him. See Doctor Godden, Catholics no Idolaters , part ii. pages 231, 232 ; and Mr. Woodhead, Discourse on the Eucharist, sec. 29*

• T ipijtrai teat wpoeKvyijoai. b Upoeewtlrtu.

\Here our Author ends, being prevented by death from perfecting this WorkS]

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CONTINUATION OF TREATISE

THE FEAST OF CORPUS CHRIST I.

BY A CATHOLIC PRIEST.

Chap. II.

On the manner in which this great Festival is solemnized in Catholic countries .

A bbief notice of the imposing ceremonies which accompany the celebration of the solemnity of the body of our Redeemer, in those Catholic countries where the unrestricted and public exercise of religion prevails, may serve to enkindle the devotion, and animate the zeal of their brethren in these kingdoms. The powerful influence of external symbols, rites and worship, on the human heart, has been felt and acknowledged in every age. ' The Almighty Creator, who breathed into our tabernacles of clay a living soul, the image of him- self, has ordained, by the laws which regulate their combined exis- tence, that this soul should receive its impressions through the medium of the corporeal senses. Moreover, man owes the homage of his body, as well as of his soul, to the great Creator of both. And inasmuch as the soul is far superior to the body, so is spiritual homage, the worship of the heart, above all mere corporeal worship. In fact, the very essence of religion consists of this interior worship, whilst external rites serve only for its outward manifestation to the glory of God, or to originate, cherish, and extend its interior gro wth. Thus, though God is a Spirit, and those who truly adore him must do so in spirit and in truth, yet his external glory is promoted by the public homage of his faithful servants on earth, who, whilst they glorify him, also edify each other, and increase the bounds of his spiritual kingdom. No body of men could ever be kept together in any society, whether religious or civil, without some external bond of union, or some outward symbols by which they might be recognised, as St. Augustine observes. To decry exterior worship, is, therefore, to contradict the very laws of our nature, to rob the Almighty of his glory, to deprive men of the most powerful incentives to holiness and virtue, to reduce religion to a mere shadow, or rather to extin- guish it altogether. The notion of an abstract spiritual religion is preposterous and absurd. God, it is true, might have immediately communicated to the soul all necessary religious knowledge, and by his powerful grace have perpetuated a religion of the heart, without having recourse to the medium of the bodily senses ; but that he has not done so, we have abundant proofs from reason and Scripture,

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confirmed by our own experience. We principally adore God the theological virtues of faitn, hope, and love ; and true religion will be always promoted by any thing that moves the heart to the exercise of those great virtues. Now, philosophically speaking, it matters very little through what external medium those impressions are conveyed or produced. The principle is the same, whether the soul is affected through the sight, the hearing, or any of the other senses. There can be no more objection to one than to the other. The Christian may at one time open a page of the great book of nature, and clearly read there the glorious attributes of its Maker ; at another, he may peruse, in the written word, the mercies of his revealed will, and the wonders of his adorable mysteries. Again, in some work of art, in a devout image, or religious painting, he may contemplate the ineffa- ble love of his Redeemer, or the virtues and rewards of his saintly imitators*. He may also hear an eloquent sermon, or moving ex- hortation, from a minister of Christ. But will not all tend to the same salutary purpose ? May not all serve to cherish those senti- ments of faith and confidence, of adoration and love, by which the Creator is honoured, and his commandments observed? Of what consequence is it, whether these desirable results come through one sense more than another ; through sight more than hearing, through the sight of an image or a painting rather than that of a writ- ten or a printed book ?

In order to be convinced of these truths, we have but to open the sacred Scriptures, and behold the manner in which God himself was pleased to establish his worship on earth— the sacrifices of the patri- archs, the prayers and offerings, and most minute and onerous cere- monial of the Mosiac dispensation — the dreaded voice to our first parents — the dove and rainbow of Noah, the vision and stone of Jacob, the burning bush of Horeb, the thunders of Sinai, the awful proclamation from its summit, the cherubim of the ark, and the manna and brazen serpent of the desert. What are all these but various appeals of his Creator to the heart of man, through different senses ? We may observe too, the public worship, feasts, and ceremonies of the Jews, sanctioned, and even observed, by the Redeemer himself.

Thejnan, therefore, who would object to all external worship and ceremonies, under pretence of supporting an entirely spiritual reli- gion, which is impossible, must be an infidel at heart. But what can be said in justification of the absurd inconsistency of our separated brethern, who blindly attack the ceremonies and public worship of the Catholic church, with the Scriptures in their hands, and many, if not all of their own religious usages, loudly condemning them of that of which they accuse others as a crime and a reproach ?

“ Foolish regorists in religion,*9 says even Diderot himself, (Essay on Painting) “ do not understand the effect of external ceremonies on the “ people. They have never seen our veneration of the cross on Good “ Friday, nor the enthusiasm of the multitude on the feast of Corpus “ Christi — an enthusiasm which sometimes steals even on my own “ heart. I have never seen this long train of priests in their sacerdotal “ robes, these young acolythes, clothed in their snow-white surplices,

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“ girdled with their blue cinctures, and scattering flowers before the " holy sacrament — this crowd which precedes and follows them in reli- •* gious silence — so many men with their foreheads bent to the earth M I have never heard that grave and pathetic chant entoned by the “ priests, and most affectionately re-echoed by an infinite number of “ voices of men, women, young girls and boys, but my entrails have “ been moved, my heart has bounded within me, and the tears have “ gushed into my eyes. There is a someffcng melancholy and sombre “ in it, which I may feel, but cannot describe. I knew a Protestant “ painter, who lived for a long time in Rome, and who acknowledged “ that he had never seen the supreme Pontiff officiating in Si. Peter’s, “ surrounded by his cardinals, and the Roman prelates and clergy,

“ without becoming a Catholic in his heart Suppress all sensible

“ symbols, and you will behold us reduced to a metaphysical gallimau- “ fry, which will assume as many ridiculous shapes and forms as there “ are heads.” Every man of candour, observation, and experience, must agree in the justice of these remarks.

If ever a mystery of divine love deserved a grateful, solemn, and triumphant celebration on earth, it certainly is that of the Eucharist. What wonder ought it be if all human wealth were expended, all human ingenuity exerted, all human talent employed, to give every pos- sible eclat to this glorious commemoration? Were the whole world to combine in the devout and splendid solemnization of this feast, would it not fall infinitely short of the majesty, wisdom, and most loving condescension of him, who, from his earnest desire to be united to us, and to abide on earth for ever with his church, humbled him- self so low as to conceal all the splendor of his glorified body, and all the overpowering effulgence of his Godhead under the sacramental veils? By the institution of the Eucharist, he has honoured this beloved spouse in a signal and supereminent manner. The members are honoured in seeing their head crowned with dignity and glory. The head is honoured and delighted in clothing his members with all the glory of which they are capable. For tnis noble purpose he exerted the last efforts of his omnipotence and wisdoip. With all his magnificence he could not have ennobled his church more than by bequeathing her his own adorable body. It was then, according to the expression of the Apostle, (Ephes. v.) that he completely rendered her a glorious church— a renowned and illustrious church — a church enriched with all the ornaments and treasures of heaven. Because the Almighty formerly dwelt with the Jews bv means of the ark, from which he published his will, and to which he attached his pro- tection, they considered themselves honoured above all the nations of the earth. “ There is no other nation so great, which hath its gods “ nigh unto it, as our God is present with us.” (Deut. iv.) This ark, however, was but the image and tabernacle of the. true God. What was all the honour derived from it when compared to the grandeur and dignity of the church of the new covenant in the pos- session of the Eucharist ? Here she possesses God himself, in his own substance, with all the plenitude of his divinity. He really and corporally dwells amongst us. He resides in our tabernacles, he

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vouchsafes to come to our poorest dwellings ; he suffers, nay invites us to approach him, to touch him, to taste of his ravishing sweetness, to place him in our hearts, so that we are as if deified, whilst he seems to become man in this ineffable union. And not only are we thus honoured, but we are ennobled by his most intimate familiarity. In this mystery he holds with us the most friendly and affectionate con- verse. He visits us, and is visited in return. He listens to our complaints, he receives oft petitions, he heals our differences, he enlightens our ignorance, alleviates our sufferings, and relieves our wants. In the Eucharist it is peculiarly “ his delight to be with the “ children of men (Prov. viii.) and hence, says St. Chrysostom, from this glorious prerogative of the church we may be said to enjoy, in some manner, the advantages of the blessed in heaven. Their happiness consists in possessing God ; and do we not possess him entire in the Eucharist ? Man can never sufficiently estimate the height of dignity to which his nature has been raised in the incarna- tion of the Son of God. Now, the Eucharist is a permanent exten- sion of that great mystery ; and all the members of the church parti- cipate in the same glory, when the man-God enters into our hearts, and unites himself to us, for then we are, as it were, one with him. In these sentiments St. Augustine cried out : “ O venerable dignity “ of priests, in whose hands the Son of God is continually incarnated !” The church is the daughter of Sion, the spouse of a glorious King — the mystic body of Christ. And as a daughter is always nourished and supported according to the rank of her parent, a spouse conform- ably to the grandeur of her bridegroom, and the members of a body according to the dignity of their head — so none but the flesh of a God could be appropriate food for the daughter, spouse, and mystic body of a God. “ The Jews,” says St. Jerome, M were the slaves of God, “ but we are his adopted children. Manna, termed in Scripture the “ bread of angels, was quite sufficient fox' them ; but nothing, save the “ bread of God, could be suitable nourishment Car tbw church which “ has been engendered in the blood of Jesus Christ.”

Such being the unparaileHed dignity and inconceivable grandeur which the Ckuscb derives from this glorious institution, is she not bound by every title of justice, gratitude, and love, to honour that adorable body, from which, as from a sun, is the emanation of all her splendor? She has been often reproached by her enemies, for the costly magnificence with which she celebrates every rite that bears any relation to this great mystery. But if she were to act differently ; if, whilst she taught the belief of the real presence of her spouse in the sacrament of his love, she solemnized the tremendous mysteries with a cold and formal indifference ; without life or love, pomp or splendor ; would she not then, indeed, be justly liable to the animad- versions of all mankind ? would she not be branded with the most gla» ring inconsistency in teaching the most sublime of all doctrines, and acting in opposition to her belief? would she not then be charged with the most flagrant hypocrisy, in proposing to her children this great mystery, and in neglecting to insure for its celebration and worship all suitable magnificence and honour ?

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Ch. II.]

But the faithful spouse of Christ, has not laid herself open to such accusations or reproach. From the earliest ages of Christianity, this mystery has been commemorated by the church on the Thursday before Easter — the memorable day of its institution — the day on which our divine Redeemer was betrayed into the hands of sinners. It should be a day of exultation and holy joy, on which we have re- ceived so invaluable a gift. But how could we rejoice in so sorrowful a season ? How could we indulge in canticles of spiritual gladness, whilst our dear Saviour is delivered into the hands of his enemies, is afflicted in the garden with the sadness of death, is overpowered by the weight of our sins, and in his excessive grief is bedewing the earth with a perspiration of blood ? During the whole of the Passion- time the church is plunged in the deepest affliction for the sufferings of her Divine Spouse. The cessation of all marks of joy, the colour of her vestments, the desolation of her altars, the mournful tones of her prophecies and psalms, the increased austerities of all her chil- dren proclaim the depth of her sorrow, and prove how completely she is absorbed in the contemplation of the passion of our Redeemer. Hence the solemnities of Holy Thursday, so far as they relate to the commemoration of the Eucharist, are but as faint glimpses of the sun during a day of universal gloom.

But on this great festival of Corpus Christi, the church displays all her magnificence, and indulges without restraint in all the effusions of her joy. Her faithful children respond with fervent devotion to her loving invitation. Churches, parishes, cities, provinces, and king- doms, vie with each other in the celebration of this feast. Kings and peasants, civilians and soldiers, the old and the young, unite in honour- ing the body of their common Redeemer. The feast being celebrated in the most delightful season of the year, when spring is clothed in her rich livery of flowers and foliage, all nature seems to rejoice at the homages paid to that glorious body, whose cruel death it bewailed at the awful moment of the crucifixion. The churches and altars are decorated in the most magnificent manner. Every thing most valu- able in their treasuries is displayed. The most costly vestments, the richest altar plate, and the most exquisite music, are used on this day. Nature and art combine in heightening the grandeur of the scene. Flowers, lights, evergreens, tapestry, banners, military music, the ringing of bells, discharges of musketry and cannon, paintiug, sculp- ture, triumphal arches, repositories and chapels under the open air, add to the glory of the solemnity. From the quantity of flowers, odoriferous shrubs and trees, and the great taste with which they are arranged, the interior of many of the churches seem to be transformed into most beautiful gardens. In a word, no feast of the entire year is celebrated with greater pomp, and none was ever instituted more according to the heart and feeling of the people than Corpus Christi, which in France is termed Feast of God , and which, in that great country, has been always celebrated with extraordinary splendor.

In Catholic seaports this was always a day of great rejoicing. From an early hour in the morning the vessels were decked out witn all their lights, colours, and streamers. The quays were swept,

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watered, and strewn with flowers. The sailors and fishermen, dressed in their holiday dresses, assisted at the high mass and the procession, of which we shall treat more at length in the next chapter.

On this day, and during the octave, there is an exposition of the blessed sacrament, in order more fully to excite the fervent adorations of the faithful. The churches are crowded during the divine offices, and sermons, and at no time of the day can the temple be seen without numerous adorers before the sanctuary of the Lord. All seem animated by the same spirit ; that of making every atone- ment which love can suggest to the adorable body which was broken for our sins.

Chap. III.

On the Procession of Corpus Christu

The origin of processions is traced by some writers to the re- motest ages of Paganism. It is certain that at Lacedemon there was a solemn procession on the festival of Diana. In the Georgies of Virgil, we read of a procession which was celebrated every year in honor of Ceres,* and at which, according to Ovid, the assistants were clothed in white, and carried lighted torches. We find a perfect idea of a procession, in the solemn manner in which the people of God were wont to transport the ark of the covenant, from one place to another. It was during one of these that David danced with holy joy before the ark of the Lord.b In the early ages of the churcti the relics of the martyrs were also translated in public and solemn processions of the faithful. Thus we read, that the emperor Julian was greatly enraged at a celebrated procession which took place in Antioch, at the translation of the relics of S. Baby las, martyr, from the neighbourhood of that city.® The bishops of the primitive church were in the habit of celebrating the divine mysteries, not only in their cathedral, but also in the other churches of tne episcopal city, and particularly at the tombs of the martyrs on the anniversary of their triumph. On these occasions, which were called stations, they walked in procession, accompanied by the clergy and people. Even when the bishop celebrated m the cathedral, the clergy of the other churches went in procession with the people, to assist at the pontifi- cal mass, and to listen to the instructions of their chief pastor. The celebrated processions of S. Gregory the Great at Rome, and, much earlier, of S. Mammertus at Vienne, which gave rise to the Rogation days, are too well known to be described here. It is quite unne- cessary, therefore, to look for the origin of Christian processions in the rites of ancient Paganism.

The most magnificent and solemn of all Christian processions is un- doubtedly that of Corpus Christi. Though now established for up- wards of five hundred years in the whole church, it is believed that

* Cun eta tibi Cererem pubes agresti* adoret,

Terque novas circum t'elix eat hoatia fruges,

Omnis quam chorus, et socii comitentur van tea,

Et Cererem clamore vocent in tecta, Ac. k ii. Kings vi. 14. c Theodore t, Book iii. c. 10.

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at Angers in France this procession, which is conducted with great pomp, and attracts a vast concourse of the neighbouring districts and strangers, has been kept since the year 101 9, when it was instituted to make a public and solemn reparation to Jesus Christ for the errone- ous doctrines on the real presence that were broached by Berengarius, who was archdeacon of that city. When our separated brethren complain of the novelty of this procession, we must remind them of the .modern date of those unhappy dogmatizers who followed in the wake of Berengarius, and impugned the ancient doctrine of the Church concerning the Eucharist. And certainly the Spouse of Christ could not have devised a more effectual method for the transmission of this glorious article of faith to the remotest posterity, than by instituting so solemn a festival ii^onour of Jesus really present in the Eucharist, and by directing that™r ministers should carry his sacred body in pro- cessional pomp through the cities, towns, and villages, that it might receive the public adoration of the faithful. Amongst the many reasons which have determined the Church to institute those solemn processions, the following may be enumerated : — She represents the triumph with which the Son of God bore his own sacred body at the first consecration of the Eucharist, when, according to the remark of St. Augustine, he carried his body in his own hands, and distributed it to his apostles.* She represents the manner in which Jesus Christ triumphs in the faithful soul, who receives him in the Eucharist with pure dispositions. He reigns there supremely, and subdues all his enemies by the grace and strength which he imparts to the soul. But this triumph of Christ as King of the heart, is all interior, and is known only to God and the soul. It is therefore just, that at least once in the year our glorious King should enjoy a more public triumph, that he should appear abroad amongst his people, that he should solemnly exhibit himself to all his faithful subjects throughout the world, and openly receive their united adora- tions. The Church recognises in the Eucharist the greatest gift of her Divine Spouse. By every title of gratitude and thanksgiving she is bound to publish to the whole world the magnificent legacy with which she has been enriched, and she does so on this festival by pro- ducing in solemn pomp the treasure of her hidden God, and by invi- ting all nations, as if in the language of the royal prophet : to come and see what great and wonderful things the Lord has done for her. (Ps. lxv. 5.) She introduces her King with all this pomp and ceremony, in order that at his entrance amongst them he may pour forth on his children his more abundant benedictions. When kings and princes appear amongst their subjects, they are wont to distribute presents, aud to leave in every direction marks of their beneficence and favour. Royal majesty and grandeur are never beheld in a more attractive form than in the dispensation of blessings to their people. The prince of the Apostles assures us that his divine Master “ went about doing « good.” (Acts x. 38.) Every place he visited was hallowed by his presence, and relieved by his bounty. It is true that his presence

* Ferebatur in manibus suis, <fcc. S. Aug. Enar. in Psal. 33.

2 l>

ccttHrS kmm.

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WHi hot AbsdtbMy m&satf td r the dttpttv his hthhiMitn(t ^bd< ness \ yet We cannot doubt that on this day when he Is S6 highly honoured, when all the ceremonies, adorations* And prayers are spe* dally directed to him, that he is particularly tooted by these affec- tionate demonstrations of his children, to communicate himself to them without reserve, to open bis infinite treasures, and to scatter his choicest benedictions as he passes along.

That learned prelate, Cardinal Perron, declares, that in these itt* posing processions of Corpus Christi, we solemnly hdnoUr Jestis Christ fbr all his victories, and commemorate his triumphs in this mystery over infidelity and error. Thus, the great preparations fbr ihis ceremony, and tne ardent devotion with which it is celebrated* ate A sensible reproach to our Separated brq^ren. Whilst it per- petuates the faith of the church in the too& signal and Unerring manner, it proclaims the utter feebleness and prostration Of the oppo- nents of the real presence in every age. Those unhappy Christiana, who are outside tne pale of the church, are thus annually reminded, In the tooSt moving, forcible, and eloquent manner, of the unvarying belief of the church of Christ in this grand dogma of religion, and of the coldness ahd destitution of those systems of Christianity which were invented by the pride of men, which can never satiate the divine Cravings Of the soul, nor satisfy the yearnings of the huih&h heart for an uhion with that God who created it fbr himself.

Perhaps nothing can be a greater subject of astonishment to the angels of heaven, than to behold the Indifference and ingratitude of mahkihd with regard to this great mystery. The Church and all

!er faithful children have ever mourned Over this afflicting calamity, t must draw from us almost tears of blood to reflect on all the profanations, all the sacrileges and Irreverences that UrC committed in the sanctuary, and before the altars of JesUs Christ. This, then, u the day of solemn reparation to Ouf offended God fbr all our scan- dals, our unworthy ana tepid communions, our irreVeTeUcO and in* attention In his divine presence. And as whilst JeSuS resides In oUV tabernacles we seldom go to receive him, to ddofe or to render him the homage which he so justly deserves, we are publicly summoned this day by the Church, or rather OU* gracious King himself comes forth to reproach us in the most tender manner for our neglect, and to invite us to make an entire reparation fbr the ingratitude of the whole year.

CHAP. IV.

&WM6 cdfUi4etatione on iho Real Pretence of Jet us Christ in the Eucharist,

SirtCE the great religious schism in the sixteenth century, nO article of the Catholic faith has been more violently attacked than her doc- trine concerning the real presence of JesUs Christ in the sacrametlt Of the Eucharist. The powers of darkness, as if jealous of the incompa- rable dignity which man derives from his union With God in this great

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4 <&

mystery, seem to haVd concentrated all their force in opposition to its reception by mankind. On many other disputed subjects, our sepa- rated brethren may be easily open to conviction ; in this alone they appear equally deaf to argument and reason. In other mysteries they readily acknowledge that reason must yield to faith; that truths incomprehensible to human reason when explicitly revealed by an all- wise Being, are to be faithfully received by his Creatures ; that as God himself is a mystery to- man in his present imperfect state, so the religion by which he is adored must be mysterious ; that those mys- teries which faith proposes exalt and dignify religion, and that it is the glory and merit of divine faith to believe what it neither sees nor comprehends. Thus, with regard to the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Redemption of theworidby the death of the Son of God, original sin. &c., they never seek to distort the sacred scripture from its plain ana obvious meaning, and to the scoffs of the unbeliever and the atheist# and the doubts of the infidels they reply with St. Paul, that " Faith is “ the substance of things to be hoped for, the evidence of things noi

seen.* (Heb. xi. 1.)

But unhappily and inconsistently, when the Eucharist becomes the subject of tneir inquiry, all those wise and salutary principles are abandoned. Reason is then exalted to all the supremacy of dominion, and the steady lamp of faith is succeeded by the feeble and flickering light of human comprehension. Reason and the senses being thus constituted the standard of faith, the voice of tradition is despised, the authority of the fathers is unheeded, the practice of the universal church is disregarded, and the venerable word of God itself perverted in a thousand different forms, in order to elude the clear ana forcible proofs which it contains of the doctrine of the Catholic church. They will believe, without a murmur, that the Lord of all glory Was confine! in the womb of one of his creatures for the space of nine months, that he led a most hitter and painful life, that he was buffetted, spit upon, and scourged, that his body was broken and his blood shed upon the cross, and that he expired in the midst of the most cruel torments for the love which he bore to his creatures. But, strange and ungrateful inconsistency 1 they refuse to believe that the God who died for then^ would, could, or did bequeath to his glorious church, his body and blood, as a memorial of that death, as a continued and endearing pledge of his love, and an earnest of future glory. How singular must the reasoning which follows ropear in the mouth of a Christian : “ I believe that there are three distinct persons in one God ; that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and consubstantial with his Father. I believe that he existed before all ages, that he had no beginning, and will have no end ; that, nevertheless, he was born in time, and made man like me, that he was cruelly put to death by his own creatures for tny redemption. 1 believe, that in consequence of an act of disobedience committed by my first parents thousands of years age, I and all their posterity are born in the wrath of God, and that heaven, which was dosed against us for that sin, is opened only by the death of Christ* t believe that for a sin committed by a poor frail cteature like me, and in a moment of time, I may be punisned by a God of justice with

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an eternity of grievous torments. All this I believe* But I can never believe that the Christ who died for me is present in the Eucharist, because my reason cannot comprehend how this could take place . And because I do not understand it, I therefore doubt the love, the power, or the declaration of my Saviour, True, he expressly said to his apostles at the last supper, ‘ This my body / but I ao not believe he meant what tye said. I think that his love for me was not so great; or, I think he had not the power to do what these words obviously import ; and I doubt his power, because its mode of opera- tion is unintelligible to me. The scriptural arguments in favor of the real presence may be as clear in their terms as those for the Trinity or Incarnation ; but I must explain those terms in a metaphorical sense, for I can understand the possibility of three being in one, and one in three ; of Christ being God, and fully equal as such to his Father, though he declares his Father to be greater than Himself; I can see the possibility of the world being created out of nothing, of one sub- stance being transmuted into another in every case except one, and that solitary exception is the change of bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ.” What a melancholy tissue of argumentation is this! And yet every candid opponent amongst our various Pro- testant brethren must admit that it is a fair representation of his prin- ciples with regard to this dogma. It is, however, a perversion of all reason to argue in this manner. Our reason, limited as it is, would tell us that our first duty is to inquire, Has God spoken ? Has he revealed or taught this mystery ? Does the plain and obvious meaning of his words convey the doctrine of the Real Presence ? If so, away with all the objections which may be urged by our feeble reason. It is most reasonable, it is our imperative duty, to believe and adore. For, were our separated brethren to adopt the same course with regard to the mysteries which they believe in common with us, as they do in the Eucharist, they would, for example, on the subject of the Trinity, first examine whetherit was possible, and whether reason could comprehend it, and discovering that it was impervious to reason, they would forthwith reject it, and explain in some other sense those passages of scripture concerning it, which now Bash conviction on their minds. Let us then invite them to approach the sacred oracles in the simple spirit of an humble diffidence, and examine there, without prejudice or rancour, whether Jesus Christ has really taught this doctrine ?

In the sixth chapter of St. John, our Lord explains the necessity, and promises the institution of the great sacrament of the Eucharist. He had prepared them for the reception of this sublime doctrine, by miraculously feeding the multitude with a few loaves and fishes, and having strengthened them with corporal food, he embraces the opportunity of catting their attention to that spiritual food which was to nourish their souls to eternal life. “I am,” says he, “the living “ bread which came down from heaven. If any man eat of this “ bread, he shall live for ever ; and the bread that I will give is my “ flesh, for the life of the world. The Jews therefore strove among “ themselves, saying : How can this man give us his flesh to eat ? *< Then Jesus said to them : Amen, amen, I say unto you : Except

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Ch. IV.]

“you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you shall “ not have life in you. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my “ blood, hath everlasting life : and I will raise him up in the last day. “ For my flesh is meat indeed ; and my blood is dnnk indeed. He “ that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I “ in him. As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the “ Father ; so he that eateth me, the same also shall live by me. This “ is the bread that came down from heaven. Not as your fathers “ did eat manna, and are dead. He that eateth this bread shall live “ for ever. Many, therefore, of his disciples hearing it, said : This “ saying is hard, and who can hear it ? After this many of his dis- “ ciples went back, and walked no more with him. Then Jesus said “to the twelve: Will you also go away? And Simon Peter “ answered him : Lord, to whom snail we go ? thou hast the words “ of eternal life. And we have believed and have known, that thou “ art the Christ, the Son of God.” (John vi. 51 to 59, 61, 67 to 70.)

From this clear narrative two inferences may be obviously induced. First, the Jews understood our Redeemer to have spoken of the real eating of his body, and the real drinking of his blood. This is evident from the interrogation : “ How can this man give us his flesh to eat ?” Next, the disciples understood him in the same sense : “ It is,” said

they, “ a hard saying, who can hear it ?” It would be a waste of argu- ment to set about proving what is so incontestably evident; for the Jews and the disciples must have understood our Lord to have spoken either in a literal or metaphorical sense. If the latter, there was no difficulty in comprehending his meaning, and the question of the Jews, as well as the declaration of the apostles, would be unna- tural and unaccountable. If the former, we can be no longer surprised at the doubts of the disciples, or the incredulity of the Jews. The Redeemer, then, was understood in a literal sense by both; and with this impression on their minds, created by the obvious meaning of his words, now does he act towards them ? Does he assure them the im- pression was erroneous ; that they entirely misunderstood him ; that he spoke in figurative language, and that, therefore, the manner in which he was to give them his body to be eaten was easily comprehended ? On the contrary, he repeats his declaration again and again ; he uses, if pos- sible, stronger and clearer language ; he adds the solemnity of an oath, and assures them that their eternal salvation depends on the eating and drinking of his flesh and blood : Amen, amen, I say to you,

“ unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you “ shall not have life in you. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my “ blood, abideth in me, and I in him, and I will raise him up at the last “ day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.” Surely these solemn words must have confirmed and justified the Jews and disciples in their previous interpretation of the Redeemer’s meaning $ and still labouring under the same impression, the latter are shocked at the seeming repugnance of the doctrine, and share in the incredulity of the Jews. They therefore say : “ This is a hard saying ; “ who can hear it ?” Thus, after the explanation of Christ to the Jews, or rather after the awful repetition of what he had previously said,

*0 6

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OJfl-

the disciples ^t|ll understand him in a literal 9£n$e. Qpr LfOyd does qpt correct them for a misconstruction pf his words. Ha dpes npt assure them that he spoke only of a figurative manducation. Maqy of bis disciples abandon him, and walk no more with him ; and this apost^py qf theirs he attributes to their yant of faith, and not to error or a fklse interpretation of his wqrds. “ There are some amongst you “ that believe not,” (Ibid.) He certainly could pot have reproached them with unbelief, for not believing the doctrine of the real eating of his bqdy, and the real drinking of ms blood, unless he had actually taught that doctrine, and wished 4 to be believed. This Is further confirmed by the conduct of the apostles, to whom the Redeemer turned, and addressed the important question : “ Will you also go u away V Their answer, through St. Peter, clearly shows that they understood qur J*ord in the same manner as thq Jews And the dis- ciples ; that they were well aware of the sublime nature pf the mystery

aosed ; and that they rested their belief pf 4, not qp their cogi- ensiqn of the dpctrine $ but on the unerring truth of apy declara- tion from the Son of the living Gqd. “ Lord7 to whom shall we go, “ hut to thee ? thou hast the words of eternal life : and we believe and have known that thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God-” The Jews therefore, the disciples and the apostles, understood Christ in a literal sense. Now, jf he did not intend a real but a figurative eating of his body, and drinking of his blood, would pot he be justly considered the immediate pause of their incredulity and error r In this supposition, we must believe that on a most solemn occasion he delivered instructions to his ctiQsen friends, his hearers, and his ene- mies, which were misunderstood; that he knew they were misunder- stood ; that, nevertheless, by a more forcible repetition of the same lan- guage, he perpetuated the delusipn, confirmed the error, and forced his very disciples to abandon him. These are the awful circumstances ip which the opponents of the real presence would glace the Son of God.

We next proceed to the wQrds of the institution of the Eucharist, when Christ fulfilled the promise made to his apostles of giving them his flesh for meat indeed, nod his blood for drinx indeed. To under- stand these remarkable words, we must consider the occasion on which they were delivered. He was for the last time at supper with his bosom friepds, with the disciples of his choice, with the men whom he ^elected to teach his heavenly doctrine to the whple world. On such an occasion, lie was bound to speak in clear and intelligible language. The sacred rite which he then performed, he commanded his apostles tq observe in commemoration of him. Was not this an additional yeason for his being most explicit in his language ? That the Re- deemer was most explicit, will appear from the narrative of three of the evangelists who have described the institution of the Eucharist, and from the first epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians. There are* a few varieties in those different accounts ; but so far from affecting the substance of the narrative, they only tend to confirm more strongly the doctrine of the Catholic Church. The following are the words, as related by St. Matthew : (xxvi. 26, 28.) “ And while they were at

* supper, Jesps tqqk bread, and blessed, and broke, and gaye tq his djs-

fl>. IY-J C01»18 CHM8TI. 497

u ciples, and s^id : Take ye arpl eat ; this is my body. And taking “ the cjialice, he gave thanks, and gave to them saying : Drink ye all “ of this, for this is my blood of the New Testament, which shall be “ shed for many for the remission of sins.” Let any unprejudiced Christian calmly and dispassionately read over these words, and they will naturally and obviously suggest to him the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist. The words in themselves are the most simple that could be used ; they are most clear and easy of comprehension. They are not ushered in with any pomp of language. No explanation of them is given, for they needed none. No objections are anticipated, no presumptuous dpubts of human pride are considered. It is a God that speaks, and he speaks in a manner eminently worthy of a God. He who said : “ Let there be light, and there was light ; let the world be “and it was,” says, with the same simplicity, sublimity and majesty: “ This is my body; this is my blood!” He well knew the mean- ing of his words ; he had at his command all the powers of language ja he also foresaw the manner in which they would be interpreted in his Church. Had he intended to convey a figurative meaning, he might have employed figurative language. When, therefore, he declares, “ This is my body,” how can we presume to say or believe that he meant this is the mere figure, the sign, the emblem, or the memorial of my body ? The obvious and natural meaning of the words imports a real presence ; and does it not seem impious to inquire whether, under such circumstances, our Lord intended those words to be understood in their natural and evident meaning ? He was alone with his disciples, and for the last time. He was instituting the most sacred ordinance in religion. He was never again to speak to them on the subject. He knew they were to be the teachers of mankind, and that through them his doctrines were to be transmitted to the remotest posterity. He was a divine Legislator, and was bound to promulgate his law in the clearest possible language. He was a tender Father, “ who, having “ loved his own who were in the world, loved them to the end,” and who consequently would not use in his last testament, language which, from its obscure, ambiguous, or enigmatical nature, would introduce enmity and division amongst his beloved children. He was the God of truth, and he must have spoken the simple and intelligible language of truth to his creatures, whose faith and salvation were to depend on the correct interpretation of his words. Now, it is undeniable, that he could not have used words more calculated to convey a real presence, or less calculated to convey a figurative presence, than “ this is my body.” But the words do not terminate here. According to the evangelist and St. Paul, Christ added : my body, which is broken for you, or which shall be delivered for you, my blood which is shed for many to the remission of sins. Does not

• Adam Clarke and Mr. Horne pretend that in the Syriac language, which our Saviour used, there is po word that expresses to signify , represent , or denote , and that hence the verb is, or to be, has a figurative meaning. But the very con- trary is the fact; and Dr. Wiseman has clearly proved that there are a great number of words in that language which mean to signify , to represent , and any of which Christ could hare used. He gives a list of about forty verbs which have this meaning in Syriac.

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[tk. &i.

Christ by these additional words actually identify the body and blood pf which he spoke ? If, therefore, we interpret his words contrary to their natural meaning in a figurative sense, would they not run thus : This is (the figure ojh my body, which (figure of my body) will be delivered for you. This is (the figure of) my blood, which (figure of my blood) will be shed for the remission of sins. But as it was Christ’s real body that was broken on the cross, and his real blood that was shed for our sins, so we are to understand that he meant his real body and blood, when he said, in the clearest language: “ This is my *< body that shall be delivered for you ; this is my blood that shall be “ shed for the remission of sins.” We may vainly dispute about the possibility or impossibility of the real presence. We may set up the standard of our feeble reason in opposition to faith ; but all the in- genuity of man can never wrest those words from their natural meaning; can never prove that, this is my body, signifies this is not my body ; — it is merely its emblem, figure, or memorial.

We might load our pages with extracts from Protestant writers of celebrity, who have interpreted the words of the institution according to the unanimous voice of tradition, and the early Christian fathers. We might allege the reluctant testimony of Luther himself, who avowed nis great anxiety to deny the real presence, for the charitable purpose of irritating the Pope ; but who declared he was prevented from doing so by tne clearness and force of those venerable words : this is my body, &c^ which it was impossible to distort from their ob- vious meaning. But of what avail is human authority in a plain ques- tion of this kind — in a case where a God speaks with simplicity and majesty, and in language which is adapted to every capacity ; which the unlettered peasant can as easily comprehend as the most learned doctor in the universe? No ; it is impossible for any unprejudiced Christian to read those sacred words, without being convinced of their literal meaning. It is the duty of every Christian, when he has once ascer- tained that a God has spoken, to “ captivate his understanding in *( obedience to faith” — to bow down, believe, and adore.

Let us now attentively examine the account given by St. Paul, of the institution of the Eucharist. The preaching of the gospel had now extended far beyond the confines Of Judea. Amongst many other portions of Greece and Rome that were enlightened by its benignant rays, the people of Corinth were converted to the faith of Christ by the zeal of this great Doctor of the Gentiles. His first epistle was addressed to that infant church, for the purpose of pre- serving it in unity and peace. The enemy of mankind had already sowed his tares, and discords and distraction had been the result. In order to heal those divisions, the language of St. Paul, especially on points of doctrine, should have been explicit and clear. His words were really so : “ I have received of the Lord,” says he, “ that which €i I also delivered to you ; that the Lord Jesus, the same night in “ which he was betrayed, took bread, and giving thanks, brake it, and said : Take ye and eat, this is my body which shall be delivered “for you : do this for a commemoration of me. In like manner, “ also, the chalice, after he had supped, saying: This chalice is the

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“ New Testament in my blood ; this do ye, as often as you shall “ drink it, for the commemoration of me. For as often as you shall “ eat this bread, and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of “ the Lord until he come. Therefore, whosoever shall eat this “ bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty “ of the body and of the blood of the Lord. He that eateth and “ drinketh unworthily, eatetb and drinketh judgment to himself, not “ discerning the body of the Lord” (1 Cor. ix. 23, 27, 29.) Can any language be more clear and forcible than this ? In the narrative part the Apostle and the Evangelists perfectly agree ; so that the same reasoning which was applied to the words of the institution in the Gospel will equally serve for the texts of St. Paul. And if a shadow of doubt should remain as to the legitimate interpretation of those words, it is removed by the context of the Apostle. For he not only relates the history of the institution, which he declares he had received from the Lord himself ; but he speaks of the Eucharist, of the dispositions necessary to receive it, of the dreadful conse- quences of an unworthy communion, in such clear and awful terms, as must convince every candid mind that he was no believer in a figu- rative presence. How could the unworthy communicant be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord, if he did not really receive them ? The Deicide Jews were guilty of both, because they really broke his venerable body and shed his precious blood upon the cross. But if the elements of the Eucharist are mere bread and wine, takeu in commemoration of Christ’s passion, would it not be a perversion of all language, an abuse of all reason and justice, to pronounce that man laden with the overwhelming guilt of the body and blood of the Son of God, who should without due dispositions receive nothing more than bread and wine ? Moreover, the Apostle adds the reason that the unworthy communicant eats and drinks his own damnation, and this reason is an incontestable proof of his belief in the real presence. It is because such a dreadful sinner “ does not discern the body of “ the Lord that is, does not know and understand that his body is there, or rather acts as if he knew it not, by making no distinction between it and ordinary food. If Christ be not really present in the Eucharist, how can a Christian be justly punished with damnation for not discerning or beholding in communion, that which is not there to be discerned ?

In another part of the same epistle, the Apostle asks a question, which should set at rest all doubts and inquiries with regard to the nature of the Eucharist : “ Is not the chalice of benediction which “ we bless, the communion of the blood of Christ ? Is not the bread “which we break, the participation of the body of the Lord?” Q. Cor. x. 16.) How could it be the communion of Christ’s blood, if it were mere wine ; or how could it be a partaking of the body of the Lord, if only simple bread were to be received? The Apostle therefore adds : “You cannot drink of the chalice of the Lord, and “ the chalice of devils ; you cannot be partakers of the table of the “ Lord, and the table of devils.” Those sacrifices of the Gentiles, the participation of which the Apostle terms the chalice, and the

4io <mva cmm %i-

table pf dpyilgg frere partakpn of in reality, and upless tjie yeceiyiqg pf the body apd blood pf Christ do a real participation, the argument of the ApOftlp will lose its point aqd meaning,

Having thus seen that every text in scripture, relative to thp Eucharist, clearly indicates a real presence, is it not the most reason- able duty of a Christian, instead of distorting and explaining away those texts to meet the objections of his reason, to accommodate that reason to the dictates of faith) and to believp, simply because eternal truth has sppkpn and revealed ? The consistent Christian will never follqw the example of the incredulous Jews or the apostate disciples. He will not ask, with them : “ How can this man give us his flesh to “ eat ?” Neither will he liaye the daring impiety to declare, M Thjs “ is a hard saying, who can hear it ?” He wif| rather humbly imitate the docility of the apostles, and exclaim, with St. Peter, “ Lord, to “ whom shall we go but to thee ? thou hast the words of eternal “ life. And we believe, and have known, that thop art the Christ, the “ Son of the living God,” Thy words and doctrine arp as mysterious and incomprehensible to us as they were to the Jews or the disciples, bqt we do npt on that account disbelieve the one, nor reject the other, Thou hast declared that those are blessed who believe, thoqgh they do not see. We shall humbly hope tp share in that blessing; for though we do not see, we befieve ; and we believe, because we hear thee, who art eternal truth.

These views of scripture, with regard to the blessed Eucharist, wp find confirmed by the practice and doctrine of the church, and the writings of the hply fathers. frpm the age of the apostles. Ancient liturgies, rubrics, catechetical instructions, sermons, homilies, com- ments on scripture, and councils, are in perfect accord, and prove, most Satisfactorily, that the early Christians believed in a re4 presence. Jt would be impossible, in a brief treatise of this kind, to treat this ample subject in the manner it deserves. We shall, therefore, con- dense as much as possible these venerable authorities. In the liturgy of St. Clement,® at the close of the preface, after haring recounted the principal events of our Saviour's life and passion, and the very Words of the institution of the Eucharist, the celebrant is directed to say : “ Wherefore, remembering his passion, his death, his resqrrec- “ tion, &c?, we offer to thee, our King and our God, according to his “ direction, this bread and this chalice, giving thee thanks through “ him* We beseech thee to look favourably on these gifts, in honour “ of Jesus Christ, and to send dowq on this sacrifice thy H°!y Spirit,

“ the witness of the sufferings of the Eord Jesus, that he may make “ this bread the body pf thy Christ, and this chalice his blood?” At the order for administering communion, ip the sapie liturgy, we read : “ The bishop gives the Eucharist, saying : This js the body of Christ. “ The receiver answers, Amen. Tpe Jeacon gives the chalice, say- “ ing ; This is the blood of Christ, the chalice of life j and he that ft dnpks it answers, Amen? After communion) the deacon says :

“ Having received the precious body and blood of Jesus Christ, let us “ give thanks to him who has made us partakers pf Jfis hply mysteries.”

* Comfit. ApostoL viii.

$»• jv-p $m?§ an

In the liturgy of St. James, which was used in the church of Jeru- sajepi, the priest, bowing down, says: “ Send down, at present, rthe “ most Holy Spirit upon us, and upon these holy gifts ; and rising up, “ he says with a Joudf voice : That he, by his holy, kind, and glorious “ presence may pnake this bread the holy body of Jesus Christ. An- “ swer, Amen* And this chalice the precious blood of Jesus Christ. “ Answer, Amen. And again, at the breaking pf the EJgcharist, “ the priest breaks the bread in twp parts, and dips }n the chalice “ that which he holds in his right hand, saying : The union of the most “ holy body and precious blood of our Lord and Sfrvipur Jesus “ Christ. He makes the sign of the cross on the bread, saying : “ Behold the Lamb of God, the Son of the Father, who taketh away “ the sins of the world. And when he puts ope of the particles in “ each of the chalices, he says : This is a portion of the holy body of “ Christ, full of the grace and truth of the Father and the Holy “ Ghost. At communion, the priest says: Taste and see how “ sweet the Lord is, who can neither be divided nor consumed in “ himself. He is given to the faithful for the remission of their sins, “ and for eternal life. Before communion, the priest says the fol- “ lowing prayer ; — O Lord my God, who art the bread of heaven, “ and the life of the world, I have sinned against heaven and before “ thpe, and I am not worthy to receive thy most immaculate myste- “ ries ; but grant, by thy divine mercy, that thy grace may make me M worthy to receive thy sacred body and precious bJood.” In the liturgy of St. Mark, which was used in the church of Alexandria, of which he was the first bishop, the priest, during the canon, says : “ O “ Christ our God, we thy sinful and unworthy servants adore thee, “ and beseech that through thy gracious clemency, thou mayest send ct down thy Holy Spirit upon us, apd upon these gifts, which are in thy “ presence, to sanctify and make these holy things, the holy of holies. “ (The priest at the same time extends and raises his hands, praying u for the descent of the Holy Ghost, the people say) Amen. (The “ priest raising his voice,) That he may make this bread the holy “ body (he. makes the sign of the cross three times on the bread, “ bows down his head, and points with his hand to the body) of our “ very Lord God and Saviour Jesus Christ, which is given for the “ remission of sins, and everlasting life, to him who receives it. “ (People) — Amen. (He makes the sign of the cross thrice on the tl chalice, and says) and this chalice, the precious blood of the New “ Testament (he points at the body and precious blood) of our very “ Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, &c. At the preface before the “ breaking of the bread, the priest says: We beseech him the " Almighty Lord God, our God, to make us worthy to communicate " of his divine and immortal mysteries, the holy body and precious u blood of his Christ. (People) — Amen. (The priest takes the holy ** body in his right hand, and lays it in his left, and puts his finger on “ the body or the greater part where it is broken, and says :) This is “ the hply body (he then puts his finger in the chalice, and dips the “ end of his thumb in the precious blood, and makes the sign of the “ cross with the blood on the blood, saying) and the precious blood

gie

60BPUS CHBtSTl.

412

[tE-Xl.

" of Christ himself, our Almighty Lord God.” We afterwards read in this liturgy : “ (Deacon) — Attend to God with fear. (People)— “ Lord have mercy on us. (The priest elevates the greater part of “ the host, bows down, and cries aloud :) Holy things are tor the “ holy. And all the people fall prostrate with their faces on the “ earth. (The priest puts the extremity of what he had elevated into “ the blood, and makes with it one sign of the cross in the blood. “ He then takes it out, and with it makes one sign of the cross on the “ holy bodujn the patena, and afterwards makes one sign of the cross <( on it with the precious blood, and then makes the sign of the cross “ thrice with the body on the blood, and thrice with the blood on the “ body. And having completed the signs, he puts the greater por- tl tion into the blood, saying :) Blessed be our Lord Jesus Christ, the “ Son of God, and the Holy Ghost. Amen. (He then takes the “ third part, and divides it into three. If they be large he breaks “ them in the patena, and takes them in his right hand, which he holds “ up, his left being within the patena.) This is the holy body and “ the pure and precious blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of our God. €* This is in truth the body and blood of Emmanuel, our God. Amen. “ I believe, I believe, I believe and confess, to the last breath of ft life, that this is the life-giving body of thine on]y-begotten Son, <c &c. After a Psalm, the priest says in a low voice : O Lord, “ make us all worthy to receive thy holy body and thy precious “ blood, for the cleansing of our bodies, our souls, and our minds, “ and for obtaining remission of our sins.” In the liturgy of Constan- tinople, which has been called from the seventh century the liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, we read : “ The priest bowing down, says, “ in a low voice : We offer thee this reasonable and unbloody worship, “ and we beseech thee to send down thy Holy Spirit upon us and “ these gifts, (the priest stands upright, makes the sign of the cross “ on the bread, and says, in a low voice,) make this bread the pre- “ cious body of thy Christ. Deacon— rAmen. The priest, blessing

“ the chalice, says : and what is in this chalice, the precious blood of “ thy Christ. Deacon — Amen. The priest bows down, and address- “ ing himself to Christ, saying: O Jesus Christ our God, look down “upon us from thy holy mansion, and the throne of glory in thy “ kingdom. Thou dost dwell in the highest heaven with the Father,

“ and thou art invisibly present with us here below ; fender us “ worthy, by thy mighty hand, to receive the immaculate body and u precious blood, and to distribute it to all thy people .... The break- “ ing of the bread. The deacon says to the priest : Divide, Father,

« the holy bread. The priest divides the host devoutly into four parts, “and says: The Lamb of God, the Son of the Father is broken,

“ and divided ; he is divided, and remains entire ; he is always eaten,

“ and is not consumed, but he sanctifies all who receive him .... The “ priest says : Deacon, draw near. He approaches, and bows down “ with reverence before the priest, who holds a part of the blessed “ host in his hand, and the deacon says : Father, give me the holy “ and precious body of our God and Saviour Jesus Christ. The “ priest gives it into his hand* and says ; I do give thee the precious.

CORPUS CHRIST!*

413

Ch. IV,]

“ holy, and most immaculate body of the Lord God our Saviour

“ Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and life everlasting He

“ then presents the chalice to the deacon, who says : I come to the “ immortal King. I believe, Lord, and confess that thou art Christ, “ the Son of the living God, &c., and the priest says : O Deacon N., “ the servant of God, thou receivest the holy body and precious “ blood of Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins, and eternal life.” In the liturgy of St. Basil, the priest addresses this prayer to God : “ O Lord, who didst send thy Holy Spirit to thy Apostles at the “ third hour, take him not from us, O merciful God. Create in me “ a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me. Make this “bread the preciou^body of our Lord, our God and Saviour Jesus “ Christ, and this chalice the precious blood of our Lord, our “ God and Saviour JeSus Christ, which was shed for the life of

“ the world, changing them by thy holy Spirit Let all

“ flesh be silent, and stand with fear and trembling, laying aside all “ earthly thoughts ; for the King of kings and Lord of lords comes “forth to be sacrificed and given as food to the faithful, pre- “ ceded by choirs of archangels, principalities, and powers, the “ many-eyed Cherubim, and six-winged Seraphim, who covering their “ eyes, sing aloud : Alleluia.” In the Ethiopian liturgy, which is used by Christians who have separated from the Roman Catholic Church between thirteen and fourteen hundred years ago, the priest says : “ Take, eat ye all of this. This bread is my body, which is “ broken for you, for the remission of sins. Amen. People —

“ Amen, amen, amen. We believe, and are certain ; we praise thee “ O Lord, our Lord ; this is truly thy body, and so we believe.” “ Priest — Likewise, also, he blessed and sanctified the chalice of “ thanksgiving, and said to them : Take, drink ye all of this. This “ is the chalice of my blood which shall be shed for you, for the “ redemption of many. Amen. People — Amen. This is truly “ thy blood, and we believe it. When the priest is receiving the “ Sacrament, he says : This is in truth the body and blood of Em- “ manuel. Amen. I believe, I believe, I believe from henceforth, “ now and for ever. Amen. This is the body and blood of our “Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which he received from the Lady “ of us all, the holy and pure Virgin Mary.” In the liturgy of Nestorius, who revolted from the Catholic Church, more than thir- teen hundred years ago, the priest says: “ We, therefore, O Lord, “ thy vile, frail, and sinful servants, who are removed from thee, but “ through thy great goodness made worthy to stand and administer “ before thee this tremendous, glorious, and excellent ministry, like- “ wise implore thy adorable Godhead, the renovator of all creatures, “ that the grace of thy Holy Spirit, O Lord, may come down, abide, “ and rest upon this sacrifice which we offer to thee, that it may “ sanctify and make it, this bread and this chalice, the body and “ blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, changing and sanctifying them by “ thy Holy Spirit.” In the liturgy of Severus, the date of whose rebellion against the Church is nearly as old as that of Nestorius, the following prayer is put into the mouth of the priest : “ Have mercy

414 ctttf&r eHttdft [Ti. it

** on me, 0 God, Almighty Fattier Send ddWri frdm thy tibiy

“ habitation, the Paraclete, thy Spirit, the Lord afid Giver <rf Life

“ Seiid him down upon Us, ana Upori these offerings, and sanctify

<4 them, that this bread may be made the life-givihg, heavenly, savitig “body, both of our souls and bodies, even the body of OUt Lord

“ God ahd Saviour Jesus Christ And the mixture in this chalice,

“ the blood of the New Testament, the life-giving, saving blood, “ even the blood of our Lord God afld King of all.” It is unne- cessary to transcribe here any portion of the liturgy of St. Peter, which is the canon of the mass in the ftotnart Missal, &£ it is so. fami- liar to every controversial deader. In the 85th chapter of the cele- brated apology of St. Justin, We have an interesting acCoUflt of the manner in which the mystery of the Eucharist Was solemnized itt his day, (A. t). 150.) As this may be supposed a faithful account from the liturgy then in use, k portion of his Words is quoted hefe i “ We “ salute one another with a kiss, at the end of prayer. After this, “ bread and a chalice of wine and water are brought to the bishop, “ which he takes, and offers up praise and glory to the Father of all “thirigs, through the flame of his Soft aftd the holy GhoSt. When “ the bishop has concluded the prayefs ahd the service of thanks- “ giving, all the people preseflt fiflish With an audible voice, sayiflg : “Amen. The Eucharistic office beihg thug performed by the “ bishop, and concluded with the acclamatibUs of the people, those Wd “ call deaddns distribute to every one present, ta partake of the Eudha- “ ristic bread and wine and Water, and then they Carry it to the abseflt. “ This food we call the Eucharist, Of which norie are allowed to pir- “ take but true believers, who hdve beeit baptized Itt the ldvdr of rege- neration for the remission of sins, and live according to the precepts “ of Christ ; for we do not take this ds Common bread dfld common “drink } but. as Jesus Christ our SavioUr Was made Besh,by the word “ of God, and had real flesh and blood for our salvation, so are we “ taught that this food, which by the Change it received iit our bodies, “ nourishes our flesh and blood, becoming OUcharistic by the prayers “ and words of which be himself Is the author, is the flesh and blood of “ the same incarnate Jesus.** In another interesting iflohumetlt ofati- tiauity, the Catechetical instructions of St. Cyril, of Jerusalem, (A. D. 347,) we have a running commentary on the liturgy in his time, as follows: “ Then the priest calls out, Lift Up your hearts, “ for truly at that tremendous hour oUr hearts should be raised up tO “ God, and not fixed on tbe earth and Worldly affairs .... Then you u answer: We lift them up to the Lord! confessing your assent to " what he requires. But let Ho one stay here, and say with his lips : « We lift them up to the Lord, while he suffers his mind to Wahaer “ on the things of this world. We should always itideed think tipOn *1 God ; but if this cannot be done on account of the irifittaity of “ human nature, we should Strive to do SO noW ifl ft Very particular “ manner. Then Hie priest says : Let us give thanks to the Lord .... “ And you answer, that it is mfeet aflcf right to dO SO .. . . Theft We “ mention tbe heavens, earth, sea, SUn, ilioOti, and Stars, et&f &&&<* “ ture rational ahd irrational, Visible ana invisible, dhgelfc, archangels,

Ch. iV.]

4l$

“ dominations, principalities, powets, and Cherubitii, covferlng their “ faces, as if we said with David : Magnify the Lord with me. Then “we mention the Seraphim which tsaias, rapt in spirit, saw standing “round the throne of God. (is. vl. 2.) With two wings they “ covered their face, and with two they covered their feet, and with “ two they fly and say t Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Sabaoth .... “ And thus sanctifying ourselves with these spiritual hymns, we “ beseech God, the lover of men, to send down his Holy Spirit upon “ what is offered, that he may make the bread the body of Christ, and “ the wine the blood of Christ, because that on which the Holy “ Ghost descends, is sanctified and changed into another substance.

Yon hear afterwards the voice of the chanter, who, Singing “ with divine melody, exhorts you to partake of the heavenly mys- “ teries, saying : O taste, and see that the Lord is sweet. Judge “ not of the thing by your taste, but by faith assure yourself without “ the least doubt. For when you communicate, you are not exhorted “ to taste bread and ; but to receive the sacrament of the body “ and blood of Christ. Approaching, therefore, do not come with “ your hands wide open, nor your fingers separated ; but making your “ left hand as a throne for the right hand which i3 to receive the “ King in the hollbW of yoUr hand, receive the bodV of Christ, an- “ swering, Amen. Arid having diligently sanctified your eyes with “ the touch o t the sacred body, receive it, taking care lest you should “ lose any of it, for whatever you lose of it, is like losittg a part of one “ of your own members. If any one should give you three ingots of

“gold, would you riot hold them very carefully? Ought you

“ riot therefore, be much more careful to preserve this, which is “ more precious than gold or jewels, that none of it fall to the “ground. After havirig communicated of the body of Christ, ap- “ proach to the chalice of his blood, riot stretching out your bands, “ but bowing down in a posture of worship and adoration, saying : “ Amen, partake of the blood of Christ.”

No kind of evidence cah be more satisfactory than that which is drawn from those venerable liturgies. They clearly attest the belief and practice of the Apostles and of the apostolic Bishops of the highest antiquity concerning the offering and consecration of the bread and wine in the tremendous mysteries. They were used in different languages and by Christians of different kingdoms, many of whom were remote from each other, and yet there is the most won- derful agreement between them, ih every thing that relates to the essence or substance of the sacrament and sacrifice of the altar. This general uniformity, like the harmony of the gospels, is one of the strongest proofs of their authenticity. The liturgies also possess an authority which cannot be ascribed to ahy particular written pro- duction or father of the church. They speak riot with the authority of their compilers alone, ^ or of the Venerated names prefixed to them ; they have also the sanction of the whole body of pastors and people, the unanimous voice of entire churches who have observed them, and who follow them even to the present day, and who would never have adopted them unless they contained a faithful exposition of their

416

CORPUS CHRIST!.

[Tr. XI.

creed. The majority of the primitive churches received their faith from the Apostles themselves. 'The very titles of the liturgies show, that the faithful who used them believed they contained the doctrines preached by the Apostles, whose names they bear; and above all other traditions, whether oral or written, the liturgies must be most secure from the danger of corruption, because they were of the utmost im- portance, were preserved with the greatest care, and were most familiar to the pastors and people, from constant, nay, daily repetition. Their authority then, is unexceptionable, and we may reason from them with great justice, for they exhibit to our view, the faith of the early Christian churches, as it were, reduced to practice. “ Let us “ pay attention,” says St. Celestine, addressing the Bishop of Gaul,a w to the sense of the sacerdotal prayers, which, received by apostolic u tradition all over the world, are an uniform custom in the Catholic “ church ; and by the manner in which we ought to pray, let us learn “ what we ought to believe.” If we follow this excellent rule, we must conclude, from the united evidence of the liturgies, that the early Christian churches undoubtedly believed the doctrine of the real presence, for it must be admitted, that the foregoing extracts contain that doctrine in the clearest language.

The writings of the Greek and Latin Fathers unanimously support this great dogma of our faith. St. Ignatius, writing against the heretics of his time,b says : “ They abstain from the Eucharist, and “ from the public prayers, because they do not confess the Eucharist " to be the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our “ sins, and which the Father, through his goodness, raised from the “ dead.” St. Cyril, of Jerusalem,0 writing on those words of St. Paul : “ For I have received of the Lord that which I also have deli- " vered to you,” says, “ This doctrine of the blessed Yaul may be “ sufficient to satisfy you, concerning the divine mysteries which you “ have received, that you have been made partakers, of the body and “ blood of Christ.”

He then recounts the words of the institution in St. Paul, and goes on thus : “ Since Christ himself, therefore, did so affirm and

“ declare of the bread : This is my body; who shall thenceforth pre- “ sume to doubt it ? And since he asserts and declares : This is m j “ blood ; who, I Say, shall doubt and say, it is not his blood ? By his “ own power in Cana of Galilee, he once changed water into wine, “ which has some resemblance to blood ; and shall he not be thought " worthy of belief in • changing wine into his blood ? He wrought “ this stupendous miracle when invited to a corporal wedding, and “ shall we not much rather confess that he gave his own body and " blood to the children of the bridegroom ? Therefore, with full “ assurance, let us receive the body and blood of Christ, for under “ the typed of bread, the body is given to thee ; and under the type u of wine, the blood ; that receiving the body and blood of Christ, “ thou mayest be co-partner with him of his body and blood. So we “ shall be carriers of Christ,6 when we receive his body and blood

* Epiflt. 95, 317. b Epiat. ad Smjmen*. ® Mystag. Cat 4.

d Appearance. * Cnristophoroi.

CORPUS CHRISTI.

417

Ch. IV.]

“ into our members, and by this means, as St. Peter says, be made

“ partakers of the divine nature Do not consider them, then, as

“simple bread and wine, for it is the body and blood of Christ, “according to the words of our Lord himself.” St. Gregory, of Nyssa,® after similar reasoning, says : “ I, therefore, in like manner, “ rightly believe, that bread which is sanctified by the word of God “is changed into the body of God the Word.” St. Cyril, of Alex- andria, addressing Nestorius,b says: “We celebrate the unbloody “ sacrifice in the church, and by this means w£ approach the mystic “ benedictions, and are sanctified, being made partakers of the sacred “ flesh and precious blood of Christ the Saviour of all. And we do “ not receive it as common flesh ; God forbid ! nor as the flesh of a “ man that is sanctified and joined to the word by an unity of dignity, “ or as having a divine habitation ; but, as it really is, the life-giving “and proper flesh of the Word.”® St. Chr.ysostomd thus clearly expresses his belief in the real presence : “ Let us always believe “ God ; neither must we resist him, although what he says may “ appear absurd to our senses and thoughts. Let his words surpass “ our sense or reason, particularly in every thing which we do in the “ mysteries ; not only looking upon the things which lie before us, “ but also adhering to his words ; for, by his words we cannot be “ deceived, but our senses are easily deceived. The former cannot “ be false ; the latter are frequently so, and are frequently deceived. “ Therefore, since he has said, this is my body, let no doubt possess us ; “ but let us believe it, and behold it with the eyes of our understand-

“ ing He was not satisfied with being made man ; with being

“ scourged, &c., but he has reduced us, if I may use the expression, “ into one mass with himself, and this not by faith only ; but, in very “truth he makes us his own body. What, therefore, should be “ cleaner than him who partakes of siich a sacrifice ? What solar rays “ ought npt those hands exceed in brightness, which divide this flesh ; “ that mouth which is filled with spiritual fire ; that tongue which “is purpled with this tremendous blood? Consider the honour “ with which thou art ennobled, and the table of which thou dost “ partake. For we are fed with that, which when the angels behold “ they tremble, and which they cannot see without fear, on account “ of the glory that emanates from it, and we are reduced into “ one mass with him, Christ’s body being one, and his flesh one. “ Who shall declare the power of the Lord, or who shall make “ known his praises ? What shepherd feeds his sheep with his own “ members ; nay, there are many mothers, who, after their deli- “ very, hand over their children to be fed by other nurses. This, <€ Christ has not done ; but he feeds us with his own proper body, and “ unites and glues® us to himself.” Again, he writes :f “ That which

» Orat. Catechet c. xxxvii. b In Epist. ad Nestor, de Ex com.

« These words have all the sanction of the Council of Ephesus, for the epistle from which they are taken was publicly read in that Council, and approved of by tiie Fathers. d Horn. 83, in Matth.jprope finem •

• It is difficult to express in English the force of the word in the original.

' Horn. 24, in 1 Corinth.

2 E

418

CORPUS CHRISTI.

[Ta. XI.

“ is in the chalice, is what flowed from the side of Christ, and we “ partake of it.” And, in the same homily : u As that body is united “ to Christ, sq we are united to him by this bread.” St. Ephrem, of Edessa, writing on the Eucharist,® asks : “ Why do you examine un- searchable things? Receive the immaculate body and blood of “ your Lord with the plenitude of faith, being certain that you eat “ entirely the Lamb himself.” St. Irenseus, bishop of Lyons, a dis- ciple of St. Polycarp, writing against the Valentinians, who denied the resurrection of the flesh, reasons in this manner :b “ How do “they say that the flesh can be reduced to corruption, when it is “nourished by the body and blood of the Lord?” And again :c “ When, therefore, the chalice and the bread receive the word of “ God, and the Eucharist of the body and blood of Christ is made,” frc. Tertullian writes :d “ The bread which Christ took and distri- “ buted to his disciples, he made his body, by saying : this is my “ body.” And again :B “ He is fed with the richness of the Lord*s “ body, that is, the Eucharist.” And again :f “ The flesh feeds on the “ body and blood of Christ, that the soul may be fattened with God.” And again,1 1 “ In like manner, concerning the days of station, there “ are some who think they are not obliged to assist at the prayers of “the sacrifices, because the station is over when they receive the “body of the Lord.” Origenh says: “You who are wont to be “ present at the divine mysteries, understand here, when you receive “ the body of the Lord, you are to preserve it with all care and ve- “ neration, lest the smallest particle of it should fall.” St. Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, proving that when the danger of persecution is near, the faithful should be strengthened by the holy communion, asks :* “ How shall we teach or encourage them to shed their blood “ for Christ’s name, if we refuse them the blood of Christ when they “are going into battle?” And again :k “For what priest of the “ Most High is greater than our Lord Jesus Christ, who offered a “ sacrifice to God the Father, and even offered the same as Melchi- “ sedech, namely, bread and wine, that is, his own body and blood.” Again,1 giving an account of an infant who. had eaten bread steeped in wine that was offered to idols, and who was afterwards brought by her mother to the church whilst the bishop was celebrating mass,"1 relates, that when the deacon was administering the chalice, and had come to this child, “ the little one turned aside her face by the “ instinct of the divine Majesty, firmly closed her mouth with her “ lips, and refused the chalice. The deacon however persisted, and “ notwithstanding her resistance poured down her throat some of the “ sacrament of the chalice. Immediately ensued sobbing and vomit- “ing. The Eucharist could not remain in a polluted body and “ mouth. The drink sanctified in the blood of the Lord burst forth “ from her polluted bowels, so great is the power of the Lord, so

* Lib. de Nat. Die. b Adversos H seres, lib. iv. c. 18. alias 34.

* Lib. v. c. 2. d Contra Marcion, iv. 40. * Lib. de Pndidt, c. 9.

1 Lib. de Resurrect * Lib. de Orat c. 14. h Horn. 13, in Exod.

1 Epist 54, ad Cornel. k Epist ad Coecil. 1 De Lapsis.

“ oacrificantibns nobis.

COBFV0 CHBI8TI.

419

Ch. IV.]

u great his majesty.” Ho continues : “ And when a certain woman “ had attempted with polluted hands to open her box,* in which the “ Holy One of the Lord was laid, she was so terrified by a fire “ flaming out from thence that she durst not touch it.” St. Hilary :b 11 Therefore, if Christ truly took to himself the flesh of our body, and “ that this man who was born of Mar}r, is truly Christ, and that we “ truly take under a mystery the flesh of his body, and by this will

“ be one, because the Father is in him, and he in us.” “ He

u says, my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. u There is no room left for doubting of the reality of his flesh and “ blood. For now by the declaration of our Lord himself it is really “ flesh, and really blood ; and when we receive them, they cause us “ to be in Christ, and Christ in us.” St. Ambrose, writing on the Eucharist,0 relates various miracles recorded in the Old Testament : Aaron's rod changed into a serpent, and the contrary — the waters of the Nile turned into blood — the passage made for the Israelites through the lied sea — water flowing from the rock when Moses struck it — the iron of the hatchet swimming on the water in the days of Eliseus ; and then reasons in this manner : tt Now, if human blessing “ was so powerful as to change nature, what shall we say of the “ divine consecration, where the very words of our Lord and Saviour “ operate ? For that sacrament which you receive, is made by the “ word of Christ. And if the word of Elias was so powerful as to “ bring down fire from heaven, will not the word of Christ be able to u change the species of the elements. Of the creation of the whole “ world you have read, that he spoke and they were made ; he com- “ manded and they were created. Could not, therefore, the word “ of Christ, which was able to create from nothing that which did not “ before exist, change the things which do exist into that which they 11 were not before? For it is not less to give new natures to things “ than to change their natures.” Again :d “ When we offer sacrifice, “ Christ is present, Christ is sacrificed.” Again :® “ This body which

“ we consecrate, is of the Virgin. It is truly the flesh of Christ,

“ which was crucified and buried.” St. Jerom :f “ If then the bread “ that came down from heaven is the body of the Lord, and the wine

“ which he gave his diciples is his blood of the New Testament,

“ let us regret the Jewish fables, and let us go up with the Lord to “ the great supper-room furnished and swept. And let us receive

“from him above the chalice of the New Testament Nor did

“ Moses give us the true bread, but the Lord Jesus. He him- “ self is the guest and the banquet. He himself eats and is eaten. “We drink his blood.” St. Augustine,* writing on these words of the Septuagint, in the thirty-third Psalm, ferebatur in manibus suis, says : “ He was carried in his own hands. Who can understand, “brethren, how this could be done in man? For, what man is “ carried in his own hands ? Man can be carried in the hands of

* The faithful were permitted to bring the Eucharist home, and to communicate

themselves, particularly in times of persecution. b Lib. 8. de Timit.

* Lib. de his qui Mysteries Initiantur, c. 9. d In cap. L S. Luc.

| * Lib. de Init. c. 9. * Epist, ad Hedib. * Enarrat. in Ps. 33.

420

CORPUS CHRISTI.

*[Tb. XI.

44 others 5 no one is carried in his own hands. We do not 6nd how 44 this may be literally understood of David 5 but we find it in Christ. 44 For Christ was carried in his own hands, when, commending his own 44 very body, he said : this is my body. For he carried that body in his 44 hands.” Again, writing on these words of David ; 44 Exalt ye the 44 Lord our God, and adore his footstool, because it is holy,” he goes on thus:* 44 What, have we to adore? His footstool. The scrip- 44 ture says in another place : heaven is my seat, and the earth my 44 footstool. He commands us then to adore the earth. And how 44 shall we adore the earth, since the scripture expressly says : thou 44 shalt adore the Lord thy God. 1 am in doubt ; I fear to adore the 44 earth, lest he who created heaven and earth should condemn me. 44 And on the other hand, I am afraid not to adore the footstool of 44 my Lord, because the Psalm says to me : adore his footstool. I 44 ask, what is his footstool? . And the scripture tells me : the earth 44 is his footstool. In this dilemma I turn myself to Christ, because

I seek him here, and I find how the earth may be adored without 44 impiety ; fur, he took earth from the earth, because flesh is from 44 the earth, and he took flesh from the flesh of Mary. And because 44 he walked here in that flesh, and gave us that flesh to eat for our 44 salvation, (but no one eats that flesh, unless he has first adored it,) it is 44 discovered here, how we may adore such a footstool of the Lord, and 44 we not only commit no sin in adoring ; but we should sin in not 44 adoring.”b Again, he says :c that at communion even 44 the wicked 44 eat the very flesh of Christ, and drink his blood.” Again :d 44 There 44 was, as you are aware, first, the sacrifice of the Jews, which con- 44 sisted in victims of cattle, according to the order of Aaron. The 44 sacrifice of the body and blood of the Lord, which the faithful and 44 the readers of the gospel know, and which sacrifice is now diffused 44 over the world, w^s not then instituted.” Again :e 44 A certain man 44 named Hesperus, of the Tribunitial. order, has a small farm called 44 Zubedi, in the district of Fussali, and having observed by the in- juries done to his servants and cattle, that the place was haunted 44 with evil spirits, requested my priests during my absence, that one 44 of them should go and expel them by prayer. One went 5 he 44 offered there the sacrifice of the body of Christ, praying as much 44 as possible that that annoyance should cease, and through the mercy 44 of God it did cease.” . St. Isidore of Pelusium* calls the Eucharist 44 the proper body of the incarnation of the Word.” St. Peter 44 Chrysologus :g 44 He (Christ) is the bread which was sown in the 44 Virgin, fermented in the flesh, made on the cross, baked in the 44 furnace of the tomb, which is preserved in the churches, brought to 44 the altars, and daily administered as heavenly food to the faithful.”

• Eoarrat. in Ps. 98.

k St Ambrose, quoted before, gives the same interpretation in these words : — 44 Thus by footstool, the earth is meant, and by the earth the flesh of Christ, which even this day we adore in the mysteries, and which the apostles adored in th6 Lord Jesus.” Lib. de Spir. SancL iii. 12.

• Serin. 71 de Verb. Dom. d Concio i. in Ps, 33.

• De Civit. Dei, xxii. 8. f Ess. 109. k. Sera. 67,

CORPUS CHBI8TI.

421

Ch. IV.j

Gaudentius pf Brescia writes:* 44 You may believe that which is 44 announced, because what you receive is the body of that bread of 44 heaven, and the blood of that sacred vine ; for when he handed the 44 consecrated bread and wine to his disciples, he spoke thus : this is my 44 body ; this is my blood. Let us, I beseech you, believe him in whose 44 words we have confidence. Truth cannot deceive.” If these testi- monies of the early fathers do not prove their belief in the real presence, there is no meaning in language. In fact, there is no point of faith in which the voice of all antiquity is more unanimous and clear than on this. But, having considered some of the individual testimonies of those venerable men as to their faith, and that of their churches regarding this mystery, let us proceed to the still stronger evidence of their collected opinions and decrees in the solemn councils of the church. In the great Council of Nice, at which so many illus- trious saints, bishops, doctors, and confessors of the faith assisted, from all the celebrated churches of Europe, Africa, and Asia, we find the following remarkable words : “ Likewise here at the divine table, 44 let us not with lowliness of mind confine our attention to the bread 44 and chalice that are placed before us, but raising our mind, let us 44 understand by faith that on that sacred table lies that Lamb of God 44 who taketli away the sins of the world, unbloodily sacrificed by the 44 priests, and truly receiving his precious body and blood, we should 44 believe, that these are the symbols of our resurrection.” This tes- timony in favour of the real presence is so strong, that Calvin himself is forced to acknowledge it.b Again, we read in the same council, ses. 18 : 44 Neither law nor custom has handed down the practice, that 44 those who offer it should receive in communion the body of Christ- “from those who have not the power of offering it;” i. e. from deacons, &c. Dioscorus was accused in the Council of Chalcedon, for having bought up at a high price all the corn in Egypt, and hence it has happened, says his accuser in the council, 44 that not . even the 44 terrible and unbloody sacrifice has been celebrated words which surely he would not have used, if he believed that mere bread and wine were offered up in the church. In the epistle of St. Cyril to Nestorius, which was publicly read amidst the applause of the fathers in the Council of Ephesus, we read : “ Thus also we approach the 44 mystic benedictions, and are sanctified by being made partakers of the “ holy body and precious blood of Christ our common Redeemer ; not “ receiving it as common flesh ; God forbid ! but as made the flesh of the 44 Word himself.” At the sixth session of the second Council of Nice, the articles of faith drawn up by the false Council of the Iconoclasts were read. This heterodox assembly had said, in condemning sacred images, that the Eucharist was the only allowable image of Jesus Christ, and the fathers of Nice reply : 44 Neither Christ, nor the 44 apostles, nor the fathers, ever said that the unbloody sacrifice which 44 is offered by the priest was an image ; but his very body and his very 44 blood. For this was not what the apostles learned from him. He 44 did not say to them, take and eat the image of my body ; but take and

a Tract 2nd in Exod. b Instit. iv. 17, s. 86.

422

C0BFC8 CHBI8TI.

£Tm. XI.

M eat ; this is my body. It is true, that the lathers have called the <( gifts antitypes ; but after sanctification they are properly called the “ body and blood of Christ.” The fourth general Council of Lateran says : “ The universal church of the faithful is one, outside of which “ no one is saved ; in which Jesus Christ himself is priest and sacrifice ; “ whose body and blood, under the appearances of bread and wine, are a truly contained in the sacrament of the altar ; the bread being transub- u stantiated into the body, and the wine into the blood, by divine power; u that in order to accomplish the mystery of unity, we may receive “ from him what he has taken from us.” The Council of Constance solemnly condemned the propositions of Huss, which were opposed to the doctrine of the real presence, and especially that heretical opinion which declared, that the words of the institution were figurative ; and that this is my body, was the same as “ John is Elias,” speaking of the Baptist, who was styled that prophet in a figurative sense only. And in the decree of this council concerning communion in one kind, the fathers say : “ It is to be most firmly believed, and by no means “ to be doubted, that the entire body and blood of Christ are truly “ contained, as well under the appearance of bread as under that of wine.” “ The Council of Florence (inDecret. Eugen.iv.) says: “ Thepriest, €i speaking in the person of Christ, consecrates this sacrament. For by u the force of the very words, the substance of the bread is changed “ into the body of Christ, and the substance of the wine into his blood.” Finally, the venerable Council of Trent, repeating the voice of its predecessors, thus testifies its belief in this important subject : “ In the

first place, the holy synod teaches, and openly and simply declares, “ that m the glorious and holy sacrament of the Eucharist, after the “ consecration of the bread and wine, our Lord Jesus Christ, true God “ and man, is truly, really, and substantially contained under the appear* “ ance of those sensible things.” We have thus a long, venerable, and uninterrupted tradition from the decrees of councils, as well as from the writings of the fathers, which testifies in the clearest terms, that the doctrine of the real presence was the doctrine of the faithful in every age. Whence could have arisen this wonderful uniformity of practice and belief, unless the common doctrine had flowed from one apostolic source ? “ Is it likely,” we ask with Tertullian,* “ that so many

“ churches of such renown should have agreed in one faith, and that “ that faith should be not true ?” Our separated brethren, notwith- standing this cloud of witnesses, declare the doctrine of the real presence to be of comparatively modern growth in the church. Respite the most irrefragable testimonies to the contrary, they assert that the Christians of the early ages believed only in a figurative presence. Let us suppose for a moment, that such is the fact, al- though it has been already disproved ; let us suppose that the Apostles taught the doctrine of modern Protestants on the Eucharist to the churches which they founded, that that doctrine prevailed in those

• “ Ecquid verisimile est at tot ac tantae Ecclesiae in unazn fidem erraverint ? Quod apud mnltos mram invenitur, non e9t erratum sed traditum.'* Lib. de Prescript. 28.

CORPUS CHRIST*.

483

Cb. IV.]

churches during the first centuries of Christianity, and that the notion of the real presence was a human fabrication— the work of after times. They will surely admit, that there was a time when the real presence was universally believed ; that there were many centur ries during which all Christendom were unanimous on this point. A change must therefore have taken place from the doctrine of the figurative to that of the real presence. ' How can they account for this most difficult change ? Can they tell when it occurred ? Who first introduced it ? In what country, under what sovereign, during what nopedom did this most remarkable transition take place ? How did all Christendom, popes, bishops, clergy, and people, old and young, learned and unlearned, those who were remote from, as well as those who were near the centre of unity, pass from the belief of a real absence to that of a real presence, without one historian, one doctor, one bishop, one church, or one solitary writer having reclaimed f^ainst so great an innovation, or committed to writing one trace of so momentous an event? A change from a figurative to a real presence, must have presented to the human mind more difficulties and repugnance,' than a transition from the real to the figurative presence. Now, if history faithfully records every isolated attempt to effect the latter transition, is it not far more probable that its pages would not have been silent concerning the former? Yet it is unde- niable, that we have a faithful account of every innovation attempted on the doctrine of the real presence. It is equally certain, that not a vestige is to be found in all ecclesiastical or profane history of the origin, progress, or result of one of the greatest moral revolutions that could have effected the belief of mankind — the change from a figurative to a real presence. In the eleventh century, when Beren- garius assailed the doctrine of the real presence, all Christendom rose up as one man against him. His novel doctrine was condemned in six successive councils during his life, and in nearly as many soon after his death. The celebrated Lanfranc, archbishop of Canter- bury, appealed to the consent of the whole church, and the uninter- rupted belief of the faithful in the real presence. u If,” said he to him, u what you believe concerning the body of Christ be true, then “ the doctrine of the church in every country is false. Interrogate all “ those who have any knowledge of the Latin language or of Latin “ books. Ask the Greeks, the Armenians, and in a word all Christians, “ of what nation soever, and they will all unanimously reply, that they “ hold this very faith on the Eucharist which we profess.”* Against this convincing appeal, Berengarius had nothing to urge but one or two writers, at that time of comparatively modern date, together with garbled and perverted extracts from the fathers. But he was over- powered by the force of truth, and the common voice and tradition of all Christendom ; and he solemnly retracted his errors in the clear- est terms. As we have thus a precise and satisfactory account of the attempt of Berengarius to introduce a doctrine more easy of compre- hension and belief than that which previously existed, may we not

• Lijb, de Corp, et Sang. Pom, c, xxii.

424

CORPUS CHRIST!.

|;tr. xi.

ask, why is there no historical record of the difficult change that must have taken place from the figurative to the real presence, if the doctrine of figure was that of the apostolic and early ages, as Protes- tants suppose? History is completely silent. It records no such change. And is not this contrary to all experience, to all analogy, to the very nature of man and the laws of moral evidence, if so mo- mentous a change has ever in reality occurred ? Yes ; the only Solution to be given to the question is, that no such change ever took place; that the doctrine of the Council of Trent was that of the Council of Florence, that Florence repeated what had been defined in Constance, that Constance re-echoed the decisions of Lateran, as the second of Nice and that of Ephesus did those of that venerable Council which has been the model and example of all that followed it. The only answer is, that what an Augustine and Tertullian taught in Africa, a Hilary in France, a Cyril at Jerusalem and Alexandria, a James at Nisibis, an Ephrem at Edessa, a Jerom in Bethlehem, an Isidore in Pelusium, an Irenaeus in Lyons and at Smyrna, a Chryso- logus at Ravenna, an Ambrose at Milan, a Chrysostom at Constanti- nople and Antioch, a Cyprian at Carthage, and a Silvester at Rome, could not have descended from any other school than that of the apostles, and could not have flowed but from one common source.

At this day the Greek and Latin churches profess the same faith concerning the real presence which they did when united at Florence and Lyons, when they comprised all the Christian churches then existing, the very same faith which they believed together before their first separation, upwards of thirteen hundred years ago. If the doctrine of the real presence be not true, all true faith was banished from the earth for many hundred years, all Christendom was plunged in idolatry, for it adored bread and wine for fifteen centuries, all his- torical and religious certainty is weakened, all the motives of credi- bility by which we believe the other dogmas of Christianity are impaired ; there is no signification in language ; the councils and fathers, as well as St. Paul and the Evangelists, have conspired, to deceive us ; nay, eternal truth himself has directly contributed to our error, by disclosing a mystic and figurative doctrine in the clearest and most literal language, without interpretation or comment to guide our wandering minds.

But his solemn prediction is not thus falsified. The gates of hell have not prevailed against his church. She has been the faithful depository of his doctrine. It is the same in the last as well as in the first of her councils; it is humbly received, though not compre- hended by her children, and Jesus, really preseut in the Eucharist, will receive the supreme adorations of his children all days, even to the consummation of the world.

Te.XII.3

SACKED BEAKT OF JESUS.

425

Cf )t Ctoelftf)

ON THE FEAST OF THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS.

This festival is celebrated by the church on the Friday after the octave of Corpus Christi ; and the first Friday of each month in the year is kept as a day of particular devotion by the members of the Association of the Sacred Heart. Perhaps, the history of the church does not furnish an instance in which any devotion was so rapidly extended throughout the Christian world, or so eagerly embraced by numerous bodies of the faithful, as this. It encouutcred, for a long time, great opposition, both from those who understood and those who were ignorant of its nature. The former alleged, that it tended to superstition, whilst many of the latter considered it wholly unlaw- ful and unauthorized. But it is, at the present day, triumphantly vindicated by the solemn and formal sanction of the Holy See, and the approbation of every pa*rt of.the Catholic Church. At the same time, it may be useful to state, in a few words, the nature and objects of this much misrepresented devotion, as well as to. notice a few of the objections which have been urged against it. This will be much bet- ter understood, by premising some principles of faith on which all Catholics must necessarily agree. The Catholic Church, then, teaches that there are two natures — the divine and human — in the one adorable person of our Redeemer, the God-man, Christ Jesus, the second person of the adorable Trinity ; that those two natures are united in him without being confounded ; that this union is mys- terious, inexplicable, and incomprehensible with regard to the manner in which it takes place ; that this union of the divinity exists in all and every part of the human frame and human nature of Christ ; so that, for instance, there is not the smallest part of his sacred body which does not contain all his divine and human nature. It is also of faith, that the divinity and humanity do not separately but unitedly exist in the person of Christ, and that neither the one nor the other exclusively exists in any part of his glorious person, the union of the two natures being a real indissoluble and eternal union. According, therefore, to the rigid canons of faith, no one part of the sacred hu- manity of Christ (thus united to his divinity) is more worthy of ado- ration and love than another, the divinity being in the whole and every part of the human nature. The hands or the feet, the head or the sacred heart, possess in themselves no exclusive title to our gratitude or homage. Nevertheless, at the same time, we may sepa- rately consider them in pious meditation ; and they may separately excite various affections of divine love. The head of Christ crowned with thorns, and bleeding for our sins, his hands tied to the pillar, his feet nailed to the cross, his side pierced with a spear, his heart burning with love, may each furnish salutary subjects of reflection to the under*

436

SACKED HEABT OF JESUS*

[Te. XII.

standing, and powerful motives of love to the heart of man. Though each is equally worthy of adoration from its union with the divinity, yet our hearts and minds will sometimes be more powerfully affected by the contemplation of one than that of the other. According to our human notions and forms of expression, the heart is said to be the seat of the affections. We suppose that the soul operates principally on the heart ; and we thus ascribe to the heart, in a figurative sense, the various feelings and emotions of the soul ; for to suppose that literally our feelings proceed from the heart, which is a material sub- stance, would be contrary to the doctrine of the existence and attri- butes of the soul. Thus accommodating himself to our human notions our Almighty Creator has commanded us to love him u with u our whole heart.”

But those feelings and properties which are ascribed in figure to the human heart, may be truly said to exist in the heart of Jesus Christ. His heart contains the fulness of his divine and human nature. It therefore loved us from the moment of his incarnation, and will love us for ever. We, in return, adore and love this sacred heart, not as if it was exclusively entitled to our homage, or in a greater degree than any other portion of his sacred person; but because we are wont to connect the emotions of the soul with the heart ; and the heart of Jesus reminds us most forcibly of his infinite love for mankind. We do not adore it as a material thing, nor taken in itself separately or abstractedly ; but we adore it because it is united to his divine body, and because it is one with the soul and the divine person.4 We do not adore the humanity in abstraction from the divinity, nor the latter in abstraction from the former; neither do we render homage to the divine and human nature as existing in the heart more than in any other, part of the person of Christ ; or as being in the heart, or considered so, abstractedly from their ex- istence in the whole and every other part of this divine person. We thus perceive, that from the hypostatic union of the humanity and divinity of Christ, his sacred heart, as well as every other part of his divine body, is a legitimate object of adoration.

The objections of those who have written against the lawfulness of this devotion may be easily answered on the foregoing principles. When they are told that it is not the heart itself considered in a ma- terial point of view, or in an abstracted sense, but taken in an inse- parable connexion with the humanity and Godhead of the second person of the Trinity, that is adored by the faithful in this devotion, they can surely urge no argument against it which would not apply with equal force against the adoration of the Eucharist under the ap- pearance of bread, or under the appearance of wine ; for, by virtue of the words of consecration the bread is transmuted into the body only, and the wine into the blood. But Christ is rightly adored under each, because from the nature of the hypostatic union and the im- mutable properties of his glorified and immortal body, he is whole and entire under each, so that wherever his body is, there of neces- sity must be his blood, his soul and his divinity ; and wherever bis

4 BentA »r* Dt Caaosiz, ir« 31*

SACKED HEARf OF JR8U9*

T*. XII.]

4*7

precious blood exists, there, by the same necessity, must be his body, with his soul and his Godhead. It cannot but excite surprise, that those who perfectly comprehend the nature and object of the devo- tion, should pretend that it is calculated to lead to superstition ; and that althougn learned divines might direct their adorations to a law- ful object, people in general would exclusively worship the material heart. The various enemies of this devotion at length found a public organ for their sentiments in the celebrated Synod of Pistoia. This Synod, which was convened by Scipio de Ricci, the bishop of that city, a notorious partizan of those who were called the New Disciplinarians of the last century, was opened on the 18th of Sep- tember, 1786, and lasted ten days. The unhappy Ricci, supported by Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, and afterwards successor to tne Emperor Joseph II., on the imperial throne, not only suggested many changes of church discipline in important points ; but openly promulgated erroneous opinions on matters of faith, such as the authority of the church, faith, predestination, and grace. In the 62nd and 63rd articles of this Synod, the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus was formally condemned. The former asserted that it was new, erroneous, or dangerous ; the latter censured the faithful for ador- ing in this devotion the material heart of Christ, with an abstraction or separation from his divinity. On the 28th of August, 1794, Pius VI. published his celebrated bull, Auctorem Fidei , the doctri- nal decisions of which have been unanimously received by the whole body of the Catholic Church. Amongst the many other articles of the synod condemned by his holiness, those that related to the devotion of which w'e treat were distinctly reprobated, as “ false, rash, “ pernicious, offensive to pious ears, injurious to the apostolic see, “ captious and injurious to the faithful worshippers of the heart of “ Jesus.” In a letter to the Bishop of Pistoia himself, the venerable Pontiff declared, that* “ the Holy See had now put an end to all con- “ fusion and dispute on this subject ; that its declarations were clear, “ with regard to the substance of the devotion which was free from “all superstition or material worship, and that its real tendency was, “that we should contemplate and adore the immense charity and “ boundless love of our Divine Redeemer, under the symbolic image “ of his heart.” His holiness condemned the doctrine of De Ricci and his adherents, as “ injurious to the apostolic see,” begause Pope Clement XIII., on the 6th of February, 1765, had expticitly approved and confirmed a decree of the congregation of Rites, which was pro- mulgated on the 26th of the preceding January, and which not only commended the devotion, but acceded to the request of the bishops of Poland and the arch-confraternity of the Sacred Heart in Rome, who had petitioned for a proper office and mass of the most sacred heart of Jesus. In this decree, the sacred congregation of Rites declare, that “ they were well aware that the devotion of the heart “ of Jesus had been diffused through most parts of the Christian “ world, with the sanction and through the influence of the bishops, “ that it was frequently honoured by the apostolic see with thousands “ of briefs and indulgences granted to an immense number of con-

428

SACRED HEART OF JE8US.

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44 fraternities which were canonically erected under the title of the 44 heart of Jesus ; that they further understood by the petition for “ the office and mass, nothing more was intended than an extension 44 of the devotion, and under the symbolic figure of the heart, to “ increase the renewal of the memory of that divine love with which 44 Jesus Christ assumed our nature, and in becoming obedient to 41 death, exhibited himself as a model of meekness and humility of 44 heart,* &c.

At the present moment, we may venture to affirm, that there is not a single diocese in the whole Catholic world in which the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is not practised by the faithful, with the knowledge or approbation of their prelate. It is also worthy of remark, that few, if any anti-Catholic writers have assailed the church on this point. Indeed it is difficult to imagine how, consistently with a belief in the divinity of Christ, any objection could be advanced against the devotion which we pay to the heart of Jesus, as this most loving heart, as well as his sacred humanity, are worthy of our supreme adoration, forming as they do, one person with the divine nature, so that it is perfectly correct to say : this is the heart of a God ; this is the body of the second person of the blessed Trinity, and conse- quently worthy of our supreme homage. But it is no longer neces- sary to defend the propriety of this devotion. It now rests on a most secure foundation, the authority of the Holy See, and the direct or tacit approbation of the whole body of the pastors of the church. We will then briefly revert to its origin and progress throughout Christendom. It seems to have taken its rise about the middle of the seventeenth century, in the form and sense in which it is now so generally established. Great veneration had been always shown by the faithful to the various instruments of our Saviour’s passion. With much more fervour and reason did they venerate the adorable body of our Redeemer ; and in the writings and sermons of the saints and fathers, many devout apostrophes and petitions are addressed to the various parts of his sacred humanity, to his head, his hands, his feet, his side, and also to his meek and humble heart burning with love for mankind. Thus St. Augustine says, that the side of Jesus was opened for him by the lance, and that he entered in and abode in that sacred heart as in a place of refuge. St. Ber- nard writes in sentiments of most tender devotion concerning the heart of Jesus. St. Thomas of Aquin described that tender heart as wounded for our sins, and pouring out, through the opening in the side of Christ, its precious blood, to testify the excess of his love, and to inflame the tepid hearts of his disciples. St. Bernardine of Sienna speaks of this divine heart as a furnace of the most ardent love which was capable of setting the whole world on fire. St. Bonaventure, in his Incentive to Divine Love> expresses his ardent desire to abide for ever in the side of Christ, to speak there to his heart, aftd to ob- tain from it whatever he should desire. He assures us, that by our union with the heart of Jesus, we may enjoy an unspeakable sweet- ness; that in this heart we may find every blessing, and that we may enter it with confidence ; as the object of our dear Redeemer in

. SACKED HEART OF JESUS.

429

. t B. xiq

opening his side was to give us his heart. “ O love,” cries out St. Francis of Sales; “ O sovereign love of the heart of Jesus. What “ heart can bless and praise thee as thou dost desire?” And again : u How good and bountiful is the Lord ; how lovely and amiable is his “ heart ! Let us dwell in this sacred abode. Let this adorable heart “ live for ever in our hearts !” But though these and other expressions amounted in many cases to adoration, they did not imply that peculiar worship of which we speak when treating of the devotion to the sacred heart. Many date the origin of this special devotion from a revelation said to be made by our Lord himself to sister Margaret Mary Alacoque, a nun of the visitation order, in the town of Paroy le Moniale, in Burgundy. In the life of this pious religious, written by Languet, archbishop of Sens, we are informed, that our Lord frequently com- municated to her his desire of having the devotion to this sacred heart propagated throughout the church ; that he even vouchsafed to disclose to her his adorable heart ; and after having spoken of its tender and infinite love for mankind, complaiucd in the most pathetic terms of the ingratitude which it experienced in return ; that he, therefore, wished a special feast should be appointed in honor of his sacred heart, and that public atonement should be ofTered to it, pro- mising that he would dilate his heart and pour forth the gifts of divine love on all who should practise this devotion. It is certain, that sister Margaret Mary was a person of eminent virtue, and was particularly remarkable for her profound humility and obedience to superiors. The celebrated Jesuit Pere Colombiere, whom she declares to have been sent by God himself, to guide her in the way of salvation, had the highest opinion of her sanctity, and most warmly patronised the devotion. The good nun declared to her dying day, writh the greatest confidence, that no matter what opposition it might encounter, the devotion would extend over the whole world. Some writers have erroneously imagined, that the devotion arose from these revelations, and seem to rest a portion of its defence on their authority. But those revelations have never been approved of by the church, have never been alluded to in the various decrees of the Holy See on this subject, and not one divine of any note has introduced them into his arguments in favour of the devotion. At the same time they are not to be treated with levity or ridicule ; Margaret Mary, and those who patronized her, were persons of piety and learning. The facts were well known and examined at the time, and they have come down to us with the concurrent historical sanction of various writers. Their authenticity has been believed by a very respectable number of pious and intelligent Catholics, and though we are not bound to yield them our assent, they should certainly command the respect of every rational Christian. But, whatever may be the opinions of different persons concerning those revelations, the devotion to the Sacred Heart was practised before that time. The distinguished spiritualist, Pere Eudes, who was formed to piety amongst the priests of the oratory under the devout Cardinal Berulle, and who afterwards founded a congregation of secular priests, called after him, the Eudists, declares that the devotion existed in his time. It was warmly

430

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[Tn. XU.

patronised by him ; and as, besides his deserved reputation for sanctity and zeal, he possessed considerable talents as a preacher, the devo- tion to the Sacred Heart was extensively promoted through his means, and was regularly practised in all the chapels of his order. When once made known, it progressed in despite of all opposition. It received the approbation of bishops and theologians. Confraternities and associations, in honor of the Sacred Heart, soon began to be formed, and received various privileges and indulgences from the Holy See. Even cities, churches, and altars, were dedicated to this adorable heart. One of the most remarkable events of this nature was the consecration of the city of Marseilles to the Heart of Jesus, which was made by its good bishop, M. de Belzunce, during the great plague of 1720. This dreadful scourge was brought by a vessel that arrived from Tripoli, on the 25th of May, in that year. For some time the inhabitants were totally unconscious of the impending danger ; but when it burst like a torrent on every part of the devoted city, nothing could exceed the general consternation. Flight was considered the only remedy, and it was adopted by at least one half of the population. The wealthy citizens collected as much of their effects and provisions as possible, and instantly quitted the city ; the poor fled in great numbers, and took up their abode amongst rocks and caves, and in whatever huts or tents they could hastily construct. Those who were connected with the sea took refuge with all their families in boats and vessels in the harbour. But in many cases, all those precautions were useless. The unhappy fugitives had borne away with them the seeds of this frightful disease, and not only miserably perished ; but in several instances were deprived of the solace of human sympathy, and the powerful succours of religion. To add to the horrors of the scene, those whose particular duty it was to provide for the health and security of the inhabitants had aban- doned Marseilles. The officers of justice, the directors of hospitals, the conservators of public health, the town-councillors, and all the municipal officers, with the exception of the sheriffs, also, fled from their posts. In this terrible calamity, the heroic charity of the bishop presented a remarkable contrast to the weakness and timidity of Others. M de Belzunce had for twelve years governed the see of Marseilles, when the plague made its appearance. He was of illus- trious birth, and distinguished both for eloquence and learning ; but all are forgotten in the recollection of his Godlike charity. He resisted every entreaty to quit the city, placed himself at the head of bis clergy, and at all hours of the night and day was to be found in the midst of the sick and the dying. He procured every relief that medicine could afford, and took care that all spiritual assistance should be given. He was ever foremost in braving danger, visited aU the hospitals, and administered the sacraments with his own hands, unless when he was more urgently employed in the duties of his office, or in collecting aims and provisions for the poor and the side. The clergy were animated by his example, and displayed the most noble instances of self-devotion and courage. Between two and three hundred priests and religious were earned off by the contagion,

Google

SACKED HE AM 0* JESUS.

431

Th. XII.]

the greater part of whom were martyrs of charity. It is calculated that about fifty thousand persons perished altogether from this devas- tating scourge. In the month of September, when it raged with the greatest violence, the deaths were one thousand a-day. On the festival of All Saints, the bishop, on his bare feet, with a halter round his neck, and a torch in his hand, walked in procession to an altar that had been erected under the open air, on which he offered the holy sacrifice to appease the anger of heaven. He then made a most pathetic appeal to his suffering flock, and conjured them to avert the divine* scourges by prayer, alms-deeds, and penance ; after which he solemnly consecrated the city to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus. The plague now began to diminish ; at the following Easter the churches were re-opened for divine service, and on the 20th of June, the festival in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus was celebrated throughout the city with the greatest solemnity and devotion, and in about two months after, the holy prelate congratulated his people in a pastoral letter, on the cessation of the scourge. From this time, the devotion rapidly spread throughout the neighbouring dioceses, and in the kingdom of Spain. The vow of M. de Bclzunye® is still most religiously observed in Marseilles. Even in the present yearb the feast has been celebrated with great pomp, and a mass of thanksgiving for the cessation of the great plague has been offered up, at which all the authorities and a great multitude of the faithful assisted. At the offertory the mayor presented a large wax light, with the arms of the city. AH the shops were closed, and from an early hour in the morning the city had all the appearance of an holiday.

In the reign of Louis XV., this devotion was extended to every diocese in France. His pious consort, the princess Mary Lecsinzka, daughter of Stanislaus, king of Poland, the memory of whose virtues will be long cherished in France, had a most singular devotion, in common with the whole Polish nation, to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus, and manifested the greatest desire for its extension throughout her adopted country. At the general assembly of the French clergy, held at Paris, in July, 1765, the president, the archbishop of Rheims, communicated the anxious desire of her majesty that the devotion, and an office in honour of the Sacred Heart, should be instituted in every diocese where it had not been already established. The prelates in the assembly unanimously acceded to her wishes, entered into a resolution to establish and encourage the devotion in their respective dioceses, and in a circular letter invited the other bishops of the kingdom to follow their example. Even so early as the year 1767, the prior of the chief confraternity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Rome, published letters patent of aggregation, which were addressed to all British subjects and their descendents, in every part of the world, and by which they associated them to the parent confraternity, with a title to the indulgences, &c. This they were empowered to do

* This great prelate was afterwards named to the archbishopric of Aix ; bat he refasedto leave a people who were endeared to him by so many sufferings.

*1839.

SACRED HEART OF JESUS*

43?

[Tb* XIL

by three decrees of Pope Clement XII., two of which were published in February and March, 1732, and a third in June, 1736. The de- votion, however, had long before existed in the British dominions. In 1789» a petition of British subjects, members of the order in the chapel of the English seminary at Bruges, which prayed, that the benefits of the institution might be imparted to them, if they should from distance, or any other cause, be unable to attend the chapel appointed for the purpose, provided they performed the other good works prescribed for gaining the indulgences, was granted by the Holy See. On the 27th of June, 1814, the indulgences annexed to thfc asso- ciation of the Sacred Heart were extended to the Catholics of the mid- land district of England by an indult of Pope Pius VII. The devotion to the Sacred Heart had been always favourably received in Ireland, and in some dioceses the Mass and office in its honour were said with the approbation of the ordiuary. At length, such was the eagerness with which it was embraced in all parts, that the archbishops and bishops of Ireland addressed a petition to the Holy See, that the festival of the most Sacred Heart might be celebrated throughout the king- dom, with the rite of a greater double, and a proper Mass and office on the Friday after the octave of Corpus Christi. This prayer was granted by his present holiness at an audience of the 26th of June, 1831. His holiness declared that he acceded to the petition, in con- sequence of “ the great devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus “ which prevailed ill that kingdom.”

The indulgences granted to associations of the Sacred Heart, are almost innumerable. A mere transcript of them would occupy some pages. Several were conceded during the pontificate of Pius VII., who seems to have had a peculiar attachment to this devotion, and to have often sought for consolation in the Heart of Jesus in the midst of the calamities which he endured for several years of his eventful life. To obtain those indulgences, it is necessary that a person be- come a member, by having his name enrolled in the registry of some association which is authorized by, and in connexion with, the parent institution in Rome, and to perform the other prescribed conditions. By a decree of Pius VII., in 1803, the priests of the congregation of St. Paul in Rome, are empowered to aggregate to the Sodality of the Sacred Heart established by them in that city, all the associations throughout the world, which either exist at present, or are hereafter to be erected, and to impart to them the indulgences that have been granted to the parent sodality itself. A list of these indulgences, together with the conditions on which they may be obtained, are generally to be found in the devotional books of the Sacred Heart. The various practices aud prayers prescribed to members, do not, it must be observed, bind under pain of any sin. The only and simple consequence of their omission is, that the indulgences annexed to them are not obtained. Experience has shown, that wherever this devotion has been established, it has greatly promoted true piety and the frequentation of the sacraments ; and every zealpus pastor would do well to recommend it most earnestly to his flock. At the same time, those who enter this or any other religious association, should be

8ACRED BEAUT OF JESUS.

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Tr. XIL]

careful to remove every cause of scandal by the regularity and edifi- cation of their lives. From the foregoing pages, we may have perceived, that the devotion to the Sacred Heart may be considered under two relations ; one to the heart of Jesus itself, as forming a principal part of the adorable body of Christ, and the other to the love which our divine Saviour bears us. We believe, that this love affects his tender heart in a lively degree, and we, therefore, especially honour this infinite love, whilst at the same time, we render that supreme homage to his heart which is due to the entire body of the man-God. What more legitimate object of adoration and homage ? What more calculated to enkindle the fire of divine love in our tepid souls, than the contemplation of that immense love with which this heart burns for us? With what strong and inconceivable emotions of love must not that heart have been affected which loved us even unto death ? Who can conceive or penetrate the height and depth, and sublime intensity of that love which immolated his adorable body as a victim for our sins on the altar of the cross ? There was no room for faith or hope in this divine heart, but it wa& all wounded and inflamed with love ; a love, the consideration of which should be the employment of our whole lives ; a love of tenderness, which wept over Jerusalem, and pours forth tears over ungrateful and unrepenting sinners; a vehement love, which longed for a baptism of blood, and was straitened until it should be accomplished ; a generous and heroic love, which, possessing the riches of heaven and earth, made him poor that he might enrich us, and reduced him almost to annihilation, that through his humility we might be raised to glory ; a love which embraced all mankind, as he shed his blood for the whole world, not even excluding from the price of his sacrifice those who put him to a cruel death ; a persevering love ; he was made man through love, and from the moment of his incarnation to his passion, he never ceased to love us ; he died to teach us his love ; he intercedes for us in heaven, in order that we may be qualified to love him for ever ; a most patient love, which loves in spite of our ingratitude, which waits for our conversion, which pursues us in our wanderings, and which brings us back rejoicing to the fold of love ; a love of exceeding power and efficiency, which triumphed over every obstacle, which subdued sin and hell, which arrested from death its sting, and from the grave its victory ; which exerts the most wonderful power and wisdom, that it may feed us with himself, and dwell with us for ever; an immense, boundless, eternal, immutable love, to which the united loves of all creatures cannot bear the remotest resemblance, and which continually exhibits in our regard all the love of a most tender Father, of a most affection- ate Brother, of a most sincere Friend, of a most powerful and earnest Protector, of a most faithful good Shepherd, and constant Mediator. Wh*t a vast fund for reflection is not also to be found in the virtues of this adorable heart ? A heart of profound humility, of unalter- able meekness, of entire obedience, of perfect, spotless purity ! In the words of a pious author,* “ Let us take care to entertain in our

* J. Lanspers. Carthns. Phar. dir. Amoris, par. 5.

2 F

434

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[T n. XII.

souls, by oft-repeated acts, a constant devotion to the worship of the amiable heart of Jesus, which is overflowing with mercy and love* Let us be united to this divine heart by mutual love, and let us enter it in spirit. Let us through this heart implore all the graces which we require, and through it also offer all our actions to God* For we find tne most valuable treasure and inestimable blessing in it* It is the gate through which we must go to God, and by which he comes to us.' And therefore we would advise you to put in the various places you frequent, some devout image of this adorable heart, the sight of which may enable you to renew often your holy practises of devotion in its honour, and enkindle in you the fire of divine love. You may even, according to the interior inspiration of grace, kiss this image with the greatest affection. Enter in spirit to this deified heart of Jesus ; imprint in it your own, and plunge your whole soul into this sacred fountain with a longing desire that it should be entirely lost in it, and endeavour to fill your own heart with the spirit by which the heart of Jesus is animated, with its graces and virtues ; in a word, with all the salutary blessings it comprehends, and which are beyond all measure. For the heart of Jesus is an over- flowing source of all good ; it is a pious and very useful practice to pay a singular worship and veneration to this adorable heart, which ought to be our refuge in our necessities, and in which we will find the comfort and assistance of which we stand in need. For, if the whole world were to abandon and deceive us, we maybe assured that so faithful a heart as that of Jesus will never forsake us or lead us into error.”

He afterwards breaks forth into this beautiful prayer : “ O most “ amiable Jesus! when will you take away my foul heart from me, and bestow me your own ? Or when will my heart be filled with the “ odour of your virtues, and entirely inflamed with the love of “ heavenly things ? Ah ! sweetest Jesus ! inclose my heart in yours, “ that you alone may dwell in it, and possess it, that by the dignity “ of your heart mine may be ennobled and adorned. Oh most mer- “ ciful Lord Jesus Christ, I desire that you would write on my heart “ all the wounds of your wounded heart, that I may there constantly “ read your immense love for me, and your most vehement sufferings. u O Lord my God, may the recollection of your wounds always abide “ in my inmost heart, may the sufferings of your passion be daily “ renewed in me, and the ardour of your love be daily increased. Ah u Lord God, my Saviour and Redeemer I take away from me what* “ ever displeases you, and from your most sacred heart pour into me “ whatsoever shall be pleasing in your sight. Grant that my heart “ may be united to yours, my will to your will, so that I may never “ will, nor he able to desire any thing but what shall be pleasing to “ you. I will love you, O sweet Jesus, my Lord and my God, from “ my whole heart, in all things, and above all things. O most noble, “ most pious, and most sweet heart of my most faithful lover, Jesus “ Christ, my Lord and my God, draw, I beseech you, and absorb my “ heart, all my thoughts, and affections, all the powers of my soul and “ body, into yourself, for your own glory and your most holy will*

SACKS I) HEART OF JESUS.

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Tb. XII.]

u O most merciful Jesus, I entirely commend and resign myself to “ your heart. I also pray you, O bountiful God, to take away my “ wicked heart, and to grant me your deified heart, or to make my “ heart according to yours, and to your most perfect will. Ah! w Lord Jesus! supreme sweetness of my soul, open to me the door “ of your heart, the gate of mercy, the gate of life, and the fountain “ of your grace, and draw my heart, through the most precious wound “ of your side, to the most loving sanctuary of your heart, that my “ heart may be united by the most indissoluble bond of love with “ your most holy heart. O love, always burning, and never con- “ sumed, inflame my wicked heart with that fire which you cast upon “the earth, and wished to be enkindled, so that all creatures may “ become inspired in my eyes.”

The writings of St. Bernard contain also many beautiful passages concerning the heart of Jesus, which transfix the soul of the devout Christian like so many fiery darts of love. “ Let us,” says he, “ ap- “ proach to thee, O Jesus, and we will exult and rejoice in thee, being “ mindful of thy heart. O how good and pleasant it is, to dwell in “ this heart ! The good treasure, the precious pearl is thy heart, O “ Jesus, which we shall find on digging the field of thy body. Who “ will cast away this pearl ? Oh, rather will I surrender every thing, “ and give in exchange all thoughts and affections of my mind, and I “ will purchase it for myself, and throw all my care on the heart of the “ Lord Jesus, which will support me without any deceit. At this “ temple, at this holy of holies, at this ark of the coveuant, I will “ adore, and praise the name of the Lord, saying with David, I have “ found my heart that I may pray to my God. (2 Kings vii.) And “ I have found the heart of my King, my Brother, my Friend, my “ good Jesus ! And shall I not adore it ? I will pray to it ; yes, for “ his heart is with me ; I will say it confidently, if, nay because Christ “ is my head : for how can what belongs to my head, not belong to “ me also ? As therefore the eyes of my corporal head are really “ my eyes, so the spiritual heart is my heart. This, therefore, is good “ for me. But I have my heart in common with Jesus. And what “ wonder, when of the multitude of believers there was but one heart ? “ fActs iv.) Having, therefore, found this heart of yours and mine, “ O sweetest Jesus, I will pray to thee, my God. Only suffer my “ prayers to enter the sanctuary of your hearing ; nay, draw me en- “ tirely into your heart. . . . . O most beautiful Jesu3, wash

“ me more and more from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin, “ that being purified by thee, I may be able to approach thee infinite “ purity, and deserve to dwell all the days of my life in thy heart, and “that I may be enabled to see and to accomplish thy will. For this “ reason, thy side was pierced that an entrance might be made for us. “ For this, thy heart was wounded that we may be able to dwell in it “ and in thee, free from all exterior disturbance. It was also wounded “ that we might behold the invisible wound of love through the visible “ wound. How could the ardour of this love be more convincingly “ shown than in his permitting not only his body, but also his very “ heart to be wounded by the lance ? . . . • Who will not loye

436

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[Tb. XII.

" that wounded heart ? Who will not return love for love to such a “ lover ? Who will not embrace so chaste a spouse ? . • . Let “ us, therefore, as far as lies in our power, love him and make him a “ return of love ; let us embrace our wounded lover, whose hands and “ feet, and side, and heart have been dug by wicked husbandmen, and “ let us remain, that he may vouchsafe to bind our hard and impeni* 44 tent hearts in the bona of his love, and wound them witn its “ darts.”*

* S. Bernard, Vitis mystica, ii. 431.

THE E TO.

20 ,1Y 63

INDEX

PAGE

Abstinence, nature o( even to health,

140—144

■, benefits, spiritually, - 130— 140

Acta Eruditorum, - - - - - xx

Acta Sanctorum, - - - - it, xvili

Acts of Saints, - - - - - xi

Adultery— how punished, - - - - 187

Advent, institution of, - • - 57

.what is, ----- 58

, motives for sanctifying, - - 61

, exercises on, - - - 66

, Ember days on,- . - - - 76

Aerius the Arlan — his errors, - - - 193

Aglographlsts, - x, xvl, xxvill

Alleluia, - - - - 965, 966, 967

Alms — comprising all works of mercy, 169—174 Ambrose, St., on fast of Lent, - 115, 190

■ , on the cross, - - - 230

, on the real presence, 394, 419, 490

Anabaptists— their doctrine on the Trinity,

376—378

Anathema, desired by St. Paul— how meant, 109 Ancyra, Council of, on the obligation of Lent. ------ 115

Angel us Domini, importance of - - 93

, absurdity of objecting to It, lb.

Animals, clean and unclean, among the Jews, ----- 309,310 Antltrinltarlans, impieties of, - - 370 — 379

Antoninus, St., on the duties of Sundays and Holidays, ----- 49

, on Outing, - - - 150

Apophthegms of the Marquis of Worcester, 46 Aquinas, St. Thomas, on the Lord’s Day,

41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 53

■ — — , on prayer, - - 42

, on fasting, - 146 — 154

, on Sacred Heart, - 428

Arlans — their impiety, - - 249,374 — 379

Arius, the heretic, ----- 303 , refhted and condemned,

364—366

Armlnians on real presence, - - - 423

on rigorous fosters, - - - 160

Ascension of our Lord, Feast of, - 268 — 287

, History of, - 268—287

, Exercises of Devo- tions for the, - - - - 273 — 287

Ash Wednesday — Fast of, - - 181—183

Assaron, or the Tenth, - - - -291

Assemanl, Stephen Evodlus, - - - xll

, Joseph, - - - - xll, xili

Athanasius, St., on meeting In the Church, 4 1

, on the cross, - - 226, 227

Auclorein Fidel, ----- 427 Augustine, St., on the test of Lent, - - 1 19

, on the cross - - 226, 229

, on the Ascension, 272, 273, 279

— , , on Pentecost, - - - 289

p*a»

Augustine, St., on gift of Tongues, • - 301

, on the real presence, • • 41#

, on Sacred Heart, - - 429

Bachanalia, the heathen observances of

105, 106, 107

Baptism, •••••• 931

Baptismal font, - - - - - 931

Bernard. St., on the Sacred Heart, 496—435,436

, on the Cut of Lent, - 199, 149

, on the Holy Week - - 906

■■ ■ , 00 the Ascension - - 976

,00 Pentecost, 989, 990. 991, 399, 349

Bernardino. St., on the Sacred Heart, - 496

Basil, St., on the fast of Lent,

119, 199, 193, 195, 156, 171

, on Pentecost, - 89, 190, 191, 194

Beatification of Saints, - - xxl — xxiv

Beatitudes, eight .... 334—336 Belsunce, Bishop of, account of 430

Benedict XIV.— his decree on tests and dispensations ----- 163 Benedict, St.— his monastic rules on testing

151, 159

Berengarius — his errors on the real presence, 423 Be than la, near Jerusalem, - - - 970

Beveridge, Bishop, on Lent, 1 13, 1 14, 1 15, 118, 191

— , on testing - - - 137

Bollandlsts — their works, - - xlr, xv, xix

Bonaventure, St., on the Ascension - - 277

, on the Sacred Heart, - 426

Boniface VIII., Pope, on dispensations from testing, ----- 169

Borromeo, St., on the gifts of the Holy Ghost, ------ 329

Rossuet — sermons, history, Ac., xxxlii,xxxiv,xliv Boudon, Henry Marie de - - - xxxil

Bourdalotie, his sermons. - » xxvill, xxxl

Bower, the apostate, his character and works,

vi, vfi, xvll

Bramhal’s works ----- 10 Bull, Dr.— his writings against the Arlans,

377—380

Butler, Alban, Life and Writings, - 1 — xlrll

Cesartus, St., on testing, - - -119

, on Lent, - - - - 167

Calendars — bow originated, ... xlil

Calends of January, - - - 106, 107

, abuses of, amongst Christians,

106, 107, 110

, canons against, - - - - 1 10

Calvin, on the real presence, - - - 491

Calvinists— their contradictions - - 374

Candle. Paschal— meaning of - - 939, 213

Canonization of Saints— mode of, xx— xxiv

Catechumens, or candidates for baptism, - 214 Celastine, St., on the Liturgical Prayers, - 416 Corinth us— his impiety, - 369

ChaUoner, Hi- Rev. Dr. • - - U— xxvl

438

INDEX.

PAOX

Charity— gift* which accompany.

Charity, virtue of, - - - 321, 822, 323

, habitual, ... . 330—349

Children— ancient law concerning their fast*

tag, - -- -- --156

Chrism, when consecrated, - - - 217

Christ, our High Priest - - - - 94

. ■- - proceeds from the Father and the

Holy Ghost, - - - -363,864

. ■ - the Word of Qod -

- truly God - 355—360

Chrysologus, St. Peter, on the test of Lent, 118 Chrysostom, St., on prayer, - - - 44

, on tasting, 161, 162, 167, 174

on the fruits of penance, - 184

, on Holy Week, - 203. 204

. .. t on the cross, - - 226—229

m — ^ on the Ascension,

276, 277—279, 285

— * , on the real presence, - 417

Church, (the) its origin, characteristics, per- petuity, inerrancy, mysteries, sacra- ments, and sacrifice, - - 318, 319, 320

Clarke, Dr.— his errors on the Trinity, 382,

— , Errors concerning the Syriac, - 407

Clayton, Dr., his errors, - 884

Clement, of Alexandria, on fluting, - - 147

— ■ ■ , VI., Pope— his Briefe on dispen- sation, - - - - - - 163

Clement XIII., Pope, Bull of, - - - 427

Clement XII., Pope, Brief of, - - - 432

Ccrles te Palmetum— Butler’s opinion of - xllii Collation, in fasting— how introduced, 152, 158

* , quantity at, - - - - 154

Communion— daily or frequent urged, 170, 171 Competetftes, or candidates at Easter Ere, 215 Compunction of Heart — its value - 176 — 181

Congregation of Rites, - - - 427

Constantine the Great, on the Fast of Lent, 1 16 Contents, ------ 5

Cornaro — long llffe of, - - - - 142

Corpus Christl — Feast of, - - 385 — 424

Council of Laodicea, on the Lent, 115, 116—121 Gangres, on Lent, - - - 120

Nice, on the Lent, - 115, 116-121

, on communion, - - 196

on the real presence, - 421

Later&n, on the real presence, - 422

— - Florence, on the real presence, - fl>.

Trent, on the real presence, - lb.

Counsel, or gift of the Holy Ghost, - 881, 332

Cross, devotions to, - - - - 219 — 224

, devout sign of, ... 224—231

Cyprian, St., on communion, ... 196

, on. We live by the Gospel, - 360

. . — — » on the real presence, - - 418

Cyril, St., on the real presence, - - 421

, on penance, - - - 184

of Alexandria, on the cross, - 225

■ ■ . — , on the real pre- sence, - - - - - - 417

■ ' , on the Fast of

Lent, ------ 118

Damie, folly of, on Lent, - - -115—119

Damascen, St., oh the real presence, - - 387

Dedication to Dr. Murphy, - - - 3, 4

Dionysius, St., on the Fast of Lent, - - 114

Dispensations from tasting, - - - 157

- ■■ — — , Council of Toledo on, - - 162

. ■ — Pope Benedict xiv. on, - 163

Dominica in Albls, or Sunday after Easter, 265 Dorotheus, St., on the Fast of Lent, - 118

Dominick, St., ----- 92 Durandus, on the Fasts, - - - - 150

Kan, Christ ascending from the, - - 271

PAOX

Easter Day, or Festival of the Resurrection,

234—239

, time of keeping it, - 235, 236, 237

» principal exercises of devotion for

248—265

Egyptian Monks, how they tasted, - 153, 155 Ember days— when instituted, and how to be observed, - - - - 76—78

Bphrem, St., on the cross, - - 225, 226

Bpiphanius, St., his work against heresies, 122 ■ on Lent and Holy Wert,

203, 204

Episcoplus, impieties of - 379, 389

Eucharist, institution of, 212, 213, 386, 387, 388

, effects of, - - - 390—394

Eusebius, the father of Church history, - xi Examination of self, - - - 175, 176

Faith — what built on, &c. - - - - 257

one as God himself, - - -361

by it we honour the Holy Trinity, - ib.

of those who preceded Christ, 312—315

Fasting, on Saturday, not general, - - 12

, none on Sundays, - - - 55

, benefits of, - - - - 77—123

, advantages of, - - - 123 — 131

, produces longevity, - - 141 — 143

, conditions to accompany, - 166 — 172

, interior dispositions necessary to

sanctify, ------ lb.

Faust us, the Manichean, his impieties on tasting, ------ 135

Fear of God, gift of, - - - - 333

Feasts of the Lord’s day, or Sunday, 1—57

of the holy name of Jesus, - 78 — 95

of the Sunday between Epiphany and

Lent,

of the Resurrection,

of the Ascension,

of Whitsuntide, -

of Trinity Sunday,

of Corpus Christl,

- of the Sacred Heart,

FenelOn and Bossuet,

Fortitude, gift of,

Francis of Sales, St., on the Sacred Heart, 429 Fruits of the Holy Ghost, - 333

95 — 112

- 234—268

- 268—287

- 287—349

- 349—384

- 385—424

- 425—436 xxxiii, xxxlv

332

Gaming, how condemned, - 33

Ganganelli *s letters. If genuine, - - xlli

Gaudentius, of Brescia, on the real presence, 421 GentlHa, Valentinus, his impiety, - 368—371 Gerson, John, on the Ascension, - 284 — 286 Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, adopted against the Arlans, ------ 362

Gnostics, their impieties concerning fluting, 135 God, essentially one, - - - - 349

— there is a Trinity of persons in, - 350 — is one in an indivisible nature, - 352

, Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost, - 350

Good Friday, - - - 169, 218, 219

Gospel, progress of, wonderful, - - 315—319

, how are we to live by it, - - 360

Grace, habitual, ----- 302

, sanctifying or actual, - - - Ib.

, outward, - - - - - lb.

, inward, - 303, 304

Gregory, St., of Nyssa, on the cross, 227, 228 , on the Resurrec- tion, -------250

, on the real presence, 417

Naxiansen, on Lent, 115, 120 127

■ , on the cross, 227, 228

the Great, his Letter to Ma-

rinlan, - - - - - - 157

on the Resurrection, - - 251

Tbaumaturgus, on the cross, 227

mm*.

PAGE

Gregory, 8t.f on the Resuractfoa, » 249—261 Greeks severe in requiring sick to Out, - 167

■ - how they keep Lent, - - - 169

how they tested, - - - - 161

■ in favour of the real presence, - 433

Gunning, Bishop, on the test of Lent, - 121

Halleluia, or (see Alleluia) praise ye the Lord, ------ 232

Hawarden, Dr., his answer to Clarke and Whiston, - - - - -384

Heathens, (even) admit the necessity of testing, - - - - - 134, 136

Hennas on the conditions of fasting, - - 167

Hilary, St., on the real presence, - - 419

Holy Week, - - - - - 203, 234

Holy Ghost, fruits of his descent, - 319—330 » - ■ , how precious his gifts, - 321 — 328

, the spirit of purity and light,

329, 330, 352

, twelve gifts of, - - 333, 334

, other various gifts of, - 340 — 349

Hope, the virtue of, - - - - - 257

Horne, Dr., his errors concerning the Syriac, 407 Hosanna to the Son of David, - 207

Huet, Bishop of Avranches, - - - lii

Humbert, Cardinal, on Fasting, - - 156

« , complaint of, against

the Greeks, - - - - - 159

Hyemantes, - - - - - - 190

Idolaters of Ormaz and Goa, * - - 8

Ignatius, St., on the Sabbath and prayer, - 43

■ ■ ■ ■ . on submitting to our Bishop, lb.

Indulgences, on pronouncing the sacred

names, ------ 89

- -- — to those repeating the Angelus

Domini, &c. ----- 93

on extraordinary occasions, - 192

Interest, if lawful, - - - - -xliil

lreneus, St., on the Fast of Lent, 113, 114, 118

on the real presence, - - 418

Isidore, St., on the real presence, - - 490

Jerom, St., on the fast of Lent,

118, 119, 147, 151, 172

, on the real presence, - - 419

Jesus, holy name of, - - - - 78 — 95

, not separated from the Father and

the Holy Ghost, - - - - 87

Jewish Sabbath, how observed, - - 1 — 12

Law buried with honour, 12, 309 — 314

Fasts, ------ 172

. .. — temporary, - 314

Justification, errors on, - - - 378—379

Kennedy’s absurd notions on the Sabbath, - 4

Kpeelers or Prostratere, who, - - - 191

Lacticinia, or White Meats, - - 146, 147 ■

Lanspers on the Sacred Heart, - - 433 •

Lanfranc, on the real presence, - - 423

Laodicea, Council of, on Lent, - - 115, 119 •

See Council s.

Leibnitz, metaphysical works of, - - iv

Lent, treatise on, 95 — 203

, preparation for, - 95 — 112

, institution and obligation of, - 112 — 123

instituted and commanded by the

Apostles, - - - - - 118

■ , particular motives for, - - 131 — 144

, manner of observing, - - 145—166

, first Sunday of, 198

, Sunday, Mid, - - - - 201

Leo, St., the Great, on the fast of Lent, 1 18, 1 68

, on the Ascension, - 279

Lord's Day, ------ 1

' " ■» institution ofc - - - 8

PAG*

Lord's Day, motives for keeping, « *

— -, j udgment on those who protened

the, ------20, 91

■ - ■, manner of keeping, * 22—34

■ » what is forbidden on the, 94—97

Luxury — its effects, - - - - - 147

Magus, Simon, impiety of, - - - 880

Mahometan Festival, - - - - g

Margaret Mary Alacoque, on Sacred Heart, 429 Married persons — when to live continent, - 49 Martyrologies, different, - - - x, gUI

Martyrology, Roman, - xiil, xlv

Martyrs, who, - - - - - xl, xx

Mary of the Cross, - - - - xxix

Mass, command to bear, - - - - 48

, see Holy Eucharist.

Mass, of the presanctified, - - - 169

of the Resurrection, - - - 288

Missal and Breviary of the Roman Catholic Church, ------ XV

Maunday Thursday, - - - - 212 — 218

Massuet, Dom, on Lent, - 113, 114

Maximus of Turin, St., on the Fast of Lent, 13D Mencon and Menologies of the Greek Church, - - - - x, xlv, xv

Metaphrastes, Simeon, of little credit, - xvt Mombritius' Lives of Saints, - - -xvll

Montan us, the heretic— his Impiety, - 117, 365

Name of Jesus, Feast of the Holy, - 78—96

or Offices of Holy Week, - 203—234

Nicholas 1.— his Instructions to the Bul- garians, ------ 49

Oils, Holy, when consecrated, Ac., - 215, 218

Palm Sunday, ----- 206—211 Palm— why used, - - - - 908, 209

Papebroke, Father, - - - - xv, xx

Paradisus Aninus, much commended, xlili Patriarchal Sabbath, Calvinlatic errors on, 2 Patrick, Dr. Simon, Bishop, on Fasting, Ac.

165, 166

Pascha, meaning of, - - - 234

Paschal Lamb, ----- lb.

Time, - - - - - 265

Passion Sunday, - - - - 202, 203

Pellison, Monsieur, — — — — — lii

Penance, principal accompaniment of fasting, 172

■, interior, in what it consists, 179 — 181

» public, in past times, - - 181, 182

Penitential canons, discipline concerning,

183—198

Penitentials, ------ 1&5

Penitents, public and private, - - 186 — 198

Pentecost, or Jewish Feast of Weeks,

294, 295, 296

, or Christian Feast, - - - 296

, account of descent of the Holy

Ghost, ----- 296—308

, promulgation of the new law on,

308—319

, Fruits of the descent of the Holy

Ghost on, - - - - - 319—330

Person— what it signifies, - 353

Persons in God, - - - - 353—360

Philosophers — who were abstinent, - 147, 148 Piety, gift of, - - - - - - 332

Pius VI., Pope, Bull of, - - - -427

Plus VII., decree of, relative to the Sacred Heart, ------ 432

Plays, or theatrical amusements, particularly in Lent, - - - - - - 171

Polycarp, St., on the real presence, - - 418

Popes, falsely charged with countenancing legends, - » • * xvii

Ask the Friar!

The Moveable Feasts, Fasts, and Other Annual Observances of the Catholic Church

CHAPTER 1. The First Treatise on the Lord's Day

CHAPTER 2. The Second Treatise, on the Holy Time of Advent

CHAPTER 3. The Third Treatise, on the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus

CHAPTER 4. The Fourth Treatise, on the Sundays between the Epiphany and Lent

CHAPTER 5. The Fifth Treatise, on the Fast of Lent

CHAPTER 6. The Sixth Treatise, on Holy Week

CHAPTER 7. The Seventh Treatise, on the Resurrection of our Lord

CHAPTER 9. The Ninth Treatise, on Whitsuntide

CHAPTER 10. The Tenth Treatise, on Trinity Sunday

CHAPTER 11. The Eleventh Treatise, on the Feast of Corpus Christi

CHAPTER 12. The Twelfth Treatise

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