"It is truly meet and just to proclaim with all the affections of our heart and soul, and with the sound of our voice, the invisible God the Father Almighty, and His only-begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, who paid for us to His eternal Father the debt of Adam, and by His own blood cancelled the guilt contracted by original sin."

As though to give a reason for his songs of glory, the deacon hastens to proclaim aloud the coming of Easter: "For this is the Paschal solemnity in which the true Lamb is slain, by whose blood the doors of the faithful are consecrated." The Hebrews celebrated the ancient Pasch at night. Standing, with loins girded and staves in their hands, they awaited the passing of the Lord. This expectation at night the faithful renew on Holy Saturday. St. Jerome tells us in fact that it was an Apostolic custom maintained by the Christians of his day to remain united in prayer until midnight, awaiting the coming of Christ. But another mystery is included in that night, and, in its mute language, the candle unites with the deacon in reminding us that in the Old Testament there was another night and another pillar. The Lord, it is said in Exodus, went before the sons of Israel, when they went forth from Egypt, by day in a pillar of cloud, to show them the way, and during the night in a pillar of fire, to be their guide both day and night. Now, this pillar of cloud like the pillar of wax still unlighted, is the humanity of Christ, the cloud in which Divine wisdom has placed its throne: thronus meus in columna nubis (Eccl. xxiv.). But this candle will soon be lighted by contact with the new fire, as the humanity of Jesus Christ will recover life by the approach of the fire of the Divinity. Then, indeed, is this a night of exultation for the Church when she sees coming to her, triumphant over death, the Divine Spouse whom she bewailed but recently, buried in the darkness of the tomb. So with what complacency does not the deacon celebrate this thousand-fold happy night. He hails it as the dawn of the glorious mystery of the Resurrection:

"This is the night in which Thou formerly broughtest forth our forefathers, the children of Israel, out of Egypt, leading them dry-foot through the Red Sea. This, then, is the night which dissipated the darkness of sin by the light of the pillar. This is the night which now delivers all over the world those that believe in Christ from the vices of the world and the darkness of sin, restores them to grace, and clothes them with sanctity." This is the night in which Christ broke the chains of death, and ascended conqueror from hell. Naught would it have profited us to be born, if we were not redeemed.

"O how admirable is Thy goodness towards us! O how inestimable is Thy excess of love! To redeem the slave, Thou hast given up the Son. O truly necessary sin of Adam, which the death of Christ has blotted out! O happy fault that merited such and so great a Redeemer!

"O truly blessed night! which alone deserved to know the time and hour when Christ rose again from hell. This is the night of which it is written: And the night shall be as light as day; and the night shineth upon me in my pleasures. Therefore the sanctification of this night blots out crimes, washes away sins, and restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to the sorrowful. It banishes enmities, produces concord, and humbles empires."

The deacon then fixes in the candle, in the form of a cross, the five grains of incense which were previously blessed at the same time as the new fire, a visible image of the five wounds made in the flesh of the Crucified. Liturgists also show us in this incense the perfumes and spices which Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome bought to embalm Jesus (St. Mark xvi. 1).

"Receive, O holy Father, receive on this night the evening sacrifice which Thy holy Church, by the hands of her ministers, presents to Thee, in this solemn oblation of this wax candle, made out of the labor of bees."

The Passion was truly the evening sacrifice, according to David's prophetic word, Elevatio manuum mearum sacrificium vespertinum (Ps. cxl. 3), because it was in the evening of the world, as at the decline of the day, that the Divine Victim expired, uttering a loud cry to heaven, after having declared that all was consummated!

It was in the evening, too, ad auram post meridiem (Gen. iii. 8), at the hour when a gentle wind arises, when through the earthly paradise resounded the voice of the Lord: "Adam, where art thou?" At the very hour when He found Adam guilty of disobedience, four thousand years afterwards the Father called His Son to Him and found the new Adam obedient, and obedient even to the death of the cross.

"Sed jam nunc columnæ hujus præconia novimus," the deacon continues to sing. "And now we know the excellence of this pillar, which the sparkling fire lights for the honor of God."