Sunday—After having gone back to the days of old, and shown the venerable origin of Catholic Worship, its necessity, and its harmony with all our wants; after having described in detail the sacred places where our holy ceremonies were anciently carried out, and proved that there is not a single part of our churches which is not rich with the most pleasing memories, we explain the office of the solemn day, which is so well named the Lord’sDay. The holy Sacrifice of the Altar, the Divine Office, the Benediction, all pass in review. Hereby we show how worthy the Catholic Worship is of the true Religion; that is, how reasonable, noble, and holy it is, and how proper to captivate and purify the senses, elevating them to the contemplation of eternal things: above all, we endeavour to show how instructive and how deserving it is of our Veneration.
Suppose that a navigator, deserving of credit, should announce to the learned of Europe, on his return from a foreign voyage, in which he had visited some previously unknown islands, that he had met with a people who, during the last eighteen hundred years, pre served unchanged their language, faith, manners, laws, customs, rites, even the form of their dwellings and garments; that all these things are remarkable for splendour, or wisdom, or genius, and are rooted in the most venerable traditions, the greater number of which go back to the very origin of time, and are connected with the most extraordinary events in the annals of the human race, so that, to know this people, to enter into their temples, to witness their religious ceremonies, to understand the motives of their actions, is to be transported, as it were, by enchantment, eighteen centuries back and more, and to become acquainted with the most wonderful mysteries of man, and to behold some of the most eventful scenes of remote antiquity.
Now the unaccountable ardour which is manifested at the present day to explore the ruins of the past, is an assurance of what would happen; archaeologists, philologists, tourists, amateurs, would hasten to our ports and set sail for the land of this monumental people. Most probably governments themselves would send out scientific expeditions, commissioned to gather the most reliable traditions, to study the most interesting inscriptions, and to explore ruins more venerable than those of Thebes or of Ninive.
Well, such a people exists; it is the Christian people, it ist he Catholic Church.
Youthful lovers of antiquity, too long have you remained in admiration at the threshold of our cathedrals; enter the sanctuary. There you will discover the mysterious thought,
whose marvellous expression delights you, and your admiration will increase, for you will find the spirit of that monument whose dead letter only you at present understand. Be Christians in the practical sense of the word, and from simple spectators, as you were, you will be changed into poets of art; for, do not forget, in the arts, —that thing is dead to this life, which flourishes not for the other.
When, on a Sunday, you behold the priest at the altar, making his accustomed gestures with a mathematical precision, repeating the self-same prayers which have been so long in use, for from your minds be an ignorant criticism, far from your lips be the language of impiety; recollect your thoughts, penetrate the mystery, and say to yourselves :
“Behold the antiquity of the Faith! Behold the perpetuity of Christianity ! While everything else changes, while everything .around it falls, Religion alone remains ever the same. That which the priest now does at the altar is done this day in every quarter of the globe by thousands of other priests; that which they all do, has been done in like manner for the past hundred years, for the past ten hundred years, for the past eighteen hundred years. The Basilicas of Constantinople and the Catacombs of Rome were witnesses of the same sight. In the priest I behold Chrysostom at Constantinople, Augustine at Hippo, Ambrose at Milan, and Clement at Rome.
He extends his arms to pray, I behold the Christian of the early days; he places his hands over the sacred offering, I behold Aaron taking possession of the victim; he unfolds a linen cloth on which rests the adorable Host, I behold the winding-sheet of Calvary in which the great Victim of the human race was laid. All antiquity is unrolled before my eyes. Eighteen centuries dis appear, and I hear the voice of the Son of the Eternal: One jot or one tittle shall not pass of the law,‘ and I behold with my eyes the accomplishment of his declaration : Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my word shall not pass away.”
Not only do the august ceremonies of the Holy Sacrifice exhibit before our eyes the venerable antiquity of the Church, but the most ordinary customs of our holy assemblies proclaim it also in the simp lest and sweetest language. For instance: “The practices of the primitive Sunday are still observed among us. At our High Masses, we have the bread broken among the faithful, the reading of holy books, the gifts made to the poor and to captives; what St. Justin acknowledged to Marcus Aurelius, We still do after sixteen hundred years.
“In memory of the bread distributed among the faithful, behold the blessed bread which two choristers carry on a little carriage, adorned with
white hangings and surrounded with lighted tapers.
“ In memory of the voluntary gifts of the early Christians, made for the relief of the poor and the redemption of captives, the priest and his assistants now make the collection! These ask for the sick and for poor orphans; those for prisoners. This little girl, with the red velvet purse, petitions you for means to purchase bouquets of white flowers for the altar of Mary. This old-man, with his black belt sprinkled over with silver tear-drops, is a member of the ‘Confraternity of a Good Death,’ he asks you for alms to procure coffins for the poor.
“In memory of the Acts of the Apostles and the Books of the Prophets, which the Lectors read formerly in the assemblies of the faithful, the sub-deacon and the deacon now read similar lessons.
Listen again; the pastor in the pulpit reads the Gospel of the day; and, in accordance with the recommendation of the Apostle, prays for pontiffs and kings, rich and poor, the sick and the helpless, travellers and exiles.
“ Religion has arranged these things so; it leaves no sorrow without consolation, no misery without relief, no want without assistance, and every Sunday it presents us with a specimen of each of its good works as a choice bouquet.
“ If haughty minds despise a High Mass, it is because they know not that it recalls the memory of ancient manners and holy customs.
What a wonderful thing that in all Christendom, there is not a village or hamlet which does not, every eight days, present, even to the most erudite, innumerable reminiscences of antiquity, memories of the Caesars and of the amphitheatre, the Catacombs and the Martyrs.” ‘
This explains and justifies, the astonishing expression of the most loving, and perhaps the most inspired soul of the sixteenth century : " I would give my head,” says St. Teresa, “ for the least ceremony of the Church. ‘