One special advantage of the above is that its simplicity makes it suitable for beginners in the art of Mental Prayer; and in times of dryness, when devotion does not come easily, it may reduce itself ultimately to slowly reading a book. Such times are familiar to all of us, but they are especially discouraging to a beginner who is without experience to cope with them. Especially a student at college, or even at school, may find help in this manner, and a practice which from its name sounds unattractive, and the explanation of which has sometimes appeared too complicated to be practicable, may in this way be reduced to a simple exercise within the reach of all.

The choice of a book is of course an important feature. To discuss this at length, however, would take us beyond our prescribed limits. There are good books in plenty, but nearly all of them are based on the Jesuit method, and difficult to use for such people as prefer some other system. Of late an inclination has been shown to go back to Bishop Challoner—a fact which bears eloquent testimony to the solid worth of his work written a century and a half ago. His meditations are indeed each in three points, but they allow more latitude of treatment than does a strictly Jesuit book.

But, after all, it is not necessary to have a set meditation book at all. Many find all they want in the Imitation of Christ. Others use the text of the Gospels—a practice which may be very fruitful to those who are sufficiently familiar with New Testament criticism, so as to be able to picture vividly in their own mind the surroundings of the scenes described. If these are sufficiently understood, then the words of our Lord, especially as given in St. John's Gospel, should provide the best possible matter for mental prayer.

Divine Office

The daily recitation of the Breviary is the one exercise of the priest which is not optional, but imposed by precept. The first result of this is that he is praying not in his own name, but in that of the Church. The most perfect way of satisfying the precept is to attend Office in choir. At one time this was in a great measure possible; and indeed until the recent reform of the Breviary under Pope Pius X, it contained no reference to private recitation at all: it was assumed throughout that the Office was recited in choir. [11] At the present day, however, it is practically only monks who have the opportunity of doing so. Even on Sundays, the singing of Vespers has become rare in our churches, and when it does take place, there is usually no priest present except the Celebrant. The only alternative left to the secular priest is to recite the Office privately. But it is well for him to bear in mind that he is one of a large choir of reciters all over the world, who though separated physically, are united in spirit, singing the praises of God in the official words of the Church. It would seem that the least a priest can be expected to do is to select a proper time and place and suitable surroundings for so solemn a duty.

Yet there is perhaps no exercise in his daily life about which he is so lax in the manner of its performance. The obligation seems to weigh on him, and he acts as though time given to Office was time wasted, and therefore the great object aimed at was to fit it in when he can do so with the least interruption possible of his daily occupations. Who has not seen a priest saying Office in circumstances of time and place ill-befitting such a solemn act—as, for example, in a crowded railway carriage or tramcar, or while walking from place to place, or while waiting for an appointment, or for dinner? This method of treating it, to say the least, shows a want of appreciation of its solemn character, and the sanctifying effect of the duty is properly discharged. Yet these same people will show a minute scrupulosity about many of the small details of the Office which they conceive to bind under sin. It might surely be better if they devoted less care to the small details and more to the general spirit with which the Office is said. It is with a view to this general result that the following few suggestions are made.

The first way to show our respect for the Divine Office is to have a fixed time and place for the recitation of the different hours. Undoubtedly the best place is the church, and many priests contrive to say the greater part of their Office every day before the Blessed Sacrament. But this is not always possible, and a certain amount must almost necessarily be said in one's house or grounds. In such case, it is important to show our respect for the exercise outwardly, which will react within. Office may be said very devoutly walking about, or sitting down even in an arm-chair; but not lounging, still less lying on a sofa, which except in case of sickness would involve grave irreverence. And one ought to have one's priestly dress on: to say Office in hot weather with one's coat or collar off is quite irreverent.

Sometimes a priest has to say part of his Office away from home. In such case, the same principles apply. He should say it in surroundings suitable for such an exercise. One cannot say Office properly in a crowd, whether walking or in an omnibus or tramcar. If our compartment is fairly empty, and no regular conversation in progress, a railway carriage may be a suitable place: but if it is full of people it certainly is not; and if it occurs that this is the only opportunity we have of completing our obligation, it might in an extreme case be almost better to let the obligation go than fulfil it so irreverently. Stories are told of a priest finishing his Office under a street lamp before midnight, when it might certainly have been better to omit it. A due respect for the Office urges us to say it with devotion or not at all. But in the majority of cases, the question of omitting it does not enter in; the alternative is not to omit it, but to have to say it at an inconvenient time after returning home. Surely such slight inconvenience should not be put in the balance against the need of reciting it "digne, attente ac devote."

With respect to the time of day, each priest must judge for himself how to accommodate it to his daily routine. The liturgical rules bind only sub levi, and therefore can be set aside for a reasonable cause, provided that the whole Office is finished by the hour of midnight. Nevertheless, a priest who wishes to show respect for his Office will set rubrics aside as rarely as possible. So far as he can, for example, he will aim at saying Prime in the morning and Vespers in the evening. He will not invert the order of the hours if he can help it; he will not break off at unauthorised points, even though the reason be theologically sufficient: he will rather anticipate any likelihood of interruption and avoid saying his Office at such times. A priest who looks on his Breviary as a convenient duty to put in at odds and ends of time, so that it shall not encroach on any valuable space of time, is laying himself out for possible interruptions and certainly not showing that respect for his Office which is necessary to make it a source of blessing to his life.

A word may be added about the privilege of anticipating Matins and Lauds the previous afternoon. It is usual to lay stress on the advantage of this practice, and in the case of a priest on the English mission, the advantage is certainly great. For his daily routine is so uncertain, and so often interfered with by unforeseen pressure of work that the occasions on which the Office has to be postponed till evening are numerous and continually occurring. On days of special stress it may and does often occur that when he finishes his work, perhaps late in the evening, he has not had time to open his Breviary all day. In such circumstances, he is little fit to begin Aperi Domine and recite the whole, and there is no chance of his doing so with much devotion. If, however, he has anticipated his Matins and Lauds, he can now say the other half of the Office—and the easier half—and postpone the pressure until the following day, when by giving an extra half-hour he can recover his lost ground.