We also might well say that when any Catholic from the Continent visits Protestant England and enters one of those ancient cathedrals, once the glory and pride of Catholic England, now fallen into the hands of strangers who know not their meaning nor sacred uses; and when he sees those mysteriously deep sanctuaries, whose stalls are no longer filled, as of yore, with the devout white-robed clerics, or it may be with cowled monks, chanting the divine hours of prayer, or responding to the sacrificing priest, but with a few fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen looking at each other across the once consecrated place, hallowed by the footsteps of saints, and praying to be delivered "from all error, heresy, and schism," (save the mark!) what an indescribable pain must wring his soul; how involuntarily the plaintive words of the Psalmist must rise upon his lips, "Super flumina Babylonis, illic sedimus, et flevimus, cum recordaremur Sion!"
Yet, let him come to our land and visit our Catholic churches—but we anticipate; it is not of the proper place for the choir, but of the choir itself we wish to speak.
A select choir of clerks, or singers vested in cassock and surplice, who, ranged in the sanctuary, chant in chorus the Asperges, the Introit, Kyrie, Gloria, Gradual, Credo, Offertory, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, Communion, and the responses of High Mass, and the antiphons, psalms, versicles, etc., at Vespers, is what the ritual supposes and expressly demands. A choir of mixed voices gathered in a gallery at the extreme end of the church, either hidden behind curtains or exposed to view, has neither been ever supposed or sanctioned by the ritual, much less the omission of nearly one half of what is ordered to be sung. When we look at the actual state of things as they are in vogue amongst us, and honestly look the ritual of the Holy Church in the face, does not our memory sometimes remind us of the reproach of Almighty God to the negligent priests of the old law?—"Non servastis præcepta sanctuarii mei;" a reflection which is not ours, but very pertinently made by the zealous American bishop whose words we have already quoted.
If, as has been well said, "Our present defective knowledge and appreciation of the liturgy is one of the indications of an enfeebled faith among a Catholic people," so we do not hesitate to affirm that a reasonable knowledge of, and constant participation in the divine offices of the Church is practically necessary to an intelligent faith in the great mysteries of religion, and the only means of keeping alive and nourishing true Catholic devotion. Prayer said in union with the Church is both the light of the understanding and the fire of divine love for the heart.
One of the directors of the seminary of St. Sulpice, in Paris, in a recent publication, entitled, Le Saint Office considéré au point de Vue de la Piété, significantly remarks:
"Quand on voit la piété se refroidir en tant d'endroits, il est naturel de craindre qu'on ne l'envoque le bon Dieu avec tant de ferveur, que le feu sacré ne languisse dans son sanctuaire. C'est le moment de se demander si les adorateurs ne seraient devenus plus froids en devenant plus rares, si le silence des temples n'a pas amené le sommeil des âmes."
When one sees piety growing cold in so many places, it is but reasonable to fear that God is invoked with so little fervor because the sacred fire is dying out in his sanctuary. It is time to ask ourselves if the worshippers have not become less devout in becoming less attentive at the services of the church; if the silence of our temples of religion has not brought on the sleep of souls.
The slightest examination of the offices of the Church will show how well they are adapted to instruction in doctrine, and for the illustration of the Gospel record and the historic acts and interior life of Christianity. We have not the time in this place, nor is it necessary, to adduce proofs of this. They whose interest in this matter we aim at arousing have a daily reminder of its truth.
That these holy offices are the fountain-head of solid, popular devotion is equally indisputable. We have nothing to replace them, nor do we care to have. We have plenty of so-called "popular devotions," admirably adapted for their special purposes; but it must be confessed that popular devotion is far below that standard of spirituality which the Church aims at inspiring; and which it is not only possible to attain, but which in ages gone by, whose grade of refinement and intellectual culture we affect to despise, was the normal standard of Catholic piety. From whence did the people draw this strong and healthy nourishment of the spiritual life? The answer will be found in the fact that the people were educated from childhood in the liturgy, and they were not, as now, for the most part spectators, but participators at the celebration of the solemn, instructive, and devout offices of the Church.
The accomplished author of the remarkable work on Christian Schools and Scholars thus writes: