{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_34373/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_34373","id":"gutenberg_34373","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/34373","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Priesthood -- Catholic Church","Vocation, Ecclesiastical"],"text":"Produced by Michael Gray, Diocese of San Jose\n\n\n\n\nThe Life and Times of Bishop Challoner, 1691-1781. By EDWIN H. BURTON,\nD.D., F.R.Hist.S., Vice-President of St. Edmund's College, Ware. With\n34 Portraits and other Illustrations. 2 vols., 8vo, 26s. net.\n\nThe Dawn of the Catholic Revival in England, 1781-1803. By the Right\nRev. BERNARD WARD, F.R.Hist.S., Bishop of Brentwood. With 38\nIllustrations. 2 vols., 8vo, 26s. net.\n\nThe Eve of Catholic Emancipation. Being the History of the English\nCatholics during the first Thirty Years of the Nineteenth Century. By\nthe Right Rev. BERNARD WARD. With Portraits and other Illustrations. 3\nvols. 8vo.\n\nVols. I. and II. 1803-1820. 22s. net.\nVol. III. 1820-1829. 13s. net.\n\nThe Sequel to Catholic Emancipation. The Story of the English\nCatholics continued down to the Re-establishment of their Hierarchy in\n1850. By the Right Rev. BERNARD WARD. With numerous Portraits and\nother Illustrations. 2 vols., 8vo, 22s. net.\n\nLONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.\nLONDON, NEW YORK, BOMBAY, CALCUTTA AND MADRAS.\n\n\n\n  THE WESTMINSTER LIBRARY\n  A SERIES OF MANUALS FOR CATHOLIC PRIESTS AND STUDENTS\n\n  EDITED BY\n\n  THE RIGHT REV. BERNARD WARD\n  BISHOP OF BRENTWOOD\n\n  AND\n\n  THE REV. HERBERT THURSTON, S.J.\n\n\n\n  THE\n  PRIESTLY VOCATION\n\n  A SERIES OF FOURTEEN CONFERENCES\n  ADDRESSED TO THE SECULAR CLERGY\n\n  BY\n\n  RIGHT REV. BERNARD WARD\n  F.R.HIST.S.\n  BISHOP OF BRENTWOOD\n\n\n  NEW YORK:\n  LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO\n  FOURTH AVENUE AND 30TH STREET\n  39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON\n  BOMBAY, CALCUTTA AND MADRAS\n  1918\n\n\n\n  TO\n  THE CLERGY OF THE DIOCESE\n  OF BRENTWOOD\n  IN THE MIDST OF WHOM\n  IT IS MY HAPPY LOT\n  TO SPEND THE LAST YEARS OF MY LIFE\n  THE SANCTIFICATION OF WHOM\n  HAS BECOME THE FIRST OBJECT OF MY\n  PASTORAL SOLICITUDE\n  THE FOLLOWING PAGES ARE\n  RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nTHE aim of the following pages is to present well-known ideals and\nprinciples of action, and to apply them to the state of things\nactually existing among the secular clergy of this country. They\ncontain the substance of Conferences originally addressed to\nSeminarists, which are now amended so as to be applicable to a wider\ncircle.\n\nFrom the nature of the case it happens that the greater number of our\nspiritual books are written by the Regular Clergy. Yet in some of its\nphases the religious life differs essentially from that of a secular\npriest. For example, the virtue of Poverty, or that of Obedience, as\npractised by the latter differ not in degree but in kind from the\nmanner in which they are practised by those in the religious state.\nHence the seculars do not always find the exact application they want.\n\nIn the present book it is hoped that frequent quotations from the\nwritings or sayings of well-known bishops and priests who have had\npersonal experience of the English mission may at least give actuality\nto what is said, and at the same time add an authority for it to rest\non.\n\nFEAST OF ST. THOMAS OF CANTERBURY,\n    PATRON OF THE SECULAR CLERGY OF ENGLAND,\n            _December_ 29, 1917.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n  PREFACE\n  CONFERENCE\n     I. THE PRIESTLY VOCATION\n    II. THE PRIESTLY VOCATION (continued)\n   III. POVERTY\n    IV. CHASTITY\n     V. OBEDIENCE\n        APPENDIX ON OBEDIENCE AT THE SEMINARY\n    VI. THE RELIGIOUS EXERCISES OF THE PRIEST\n   VII. THE PRIEST'S PASTORAL WORK\n  VIII. THE PRIEST'S PASTORAL WORK (_continued_)--THE LITURGY\n    IX. THE PRIEST'S PASTORAL WORK (_continued_)--PREACHING\n     X. THE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST\n    XI. THE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST (_continued_)\n   XII. THE ANNUAL HOLIDAY\n  XIII. THE PERIODICAL RETREAT\n   XIV. THE PRIEST IN SICKNESS--AND IN DEATH\n\n\n\nTHE PRIESTLY VOCATION\n\nCONFERENCE I\n\nTHE PRIESTLY VOCATION\n\nIT is well known that one of the great aims of Cardinal Manning during\nhis long episcopate, and perhaps the one of his works which has left\nthe most permanent impression behind it, was to raise the tone and\nstatus of his diocesan clergy. For many reasons connected with our\nCatholic history, the level at which the average secular priest in the\ndays of the Vicariates aimed left something to be desired. When we\nread the story of penal times, and realise the kind of life that an\nordinary priest had to live, it is not surprising that the tone and\nquality of mind which we somewhat vaguely designate under the name of\nthe \"Ecclesiastical spirit,\" should not have been largely developed.\n\nWe are not speaking now of the time of actual persecution. In the days\nwhen a priest had to go about his duties in the continual risk of\nbeing apprehended and cast into prison, and being condemned on trial\nto be hanged, drawn and quartered, the heroism of his life, and the\nmanner in which he had to be almost continuously braving personal\ndanger in his search after souls, would undoubtedly have taken the\nplace of much training and prayer in sanctifying his soul. But with\nthe relaxation of active persecution, came an imminent danger which\nshowed itself throughout the dreary eighteenth century, and during the\nfirst half of the nineteenth. There was no longer any fear of\nviolence, and even the depressing penal laws invented after the\nRevolution of 1688 gradually lost their vitality and ceased to be\nenforced. But the spirit engendered by these laws lasted longer than\nthe laws themselves, and when the English clergy found themselves able\nto live the normal life of a secular priest, some stimulus was\nrequired to revive in them the spirit of their state, which had been\nso long obscured by the necessity of hiding their priesthood.\n\nFor consider what the ordinary life of a priest was even in the later\ndays of the Vicariates. He dressed as a layman; he did not even\nventure to wear black, but wore the ordinary coloured coats common at\nthat day. If he was not a chaplain to one of the old Catholic\nfamilies, he would live in his own hired lodging, by himself, and in\nthe utmost poverty. Only rarely would he have the opportunity of\nmeeting a brother priest. Daily mass was at that time not usual. Even\nthe Sunday services were of a very unpretending character, consisting\nfor the most part of low mass, with some English prayers before or\nafter. The \"chapels\" had little external signs of devotion beyond the\naltar itself. Statues of our Lady and the Saints were unknown, for it\nwould have been considered highly imprudent to run counter to strong\nProtestant prejudice in matters which were not essential. The\nsacraments were administered with as much privacy as possible: the\npriest would hear Confessions in his own room; and having no font,\nwould take Baptism water privately to the house of a child who was to\nbe baptised. No vestments would be worn on such occasions, except\nperhaps a stole over a lay coat. It is not wonderful that such a life\nproduced a kind of religion which was restrained and below the\nsurface, and that there was little inclination to show outward signs\nof devotion. The lifelong habit of concealing their priesthood from\nthe knowledge of others could not but tend to blunt the esteem for it\nin themselves; and it engendered a form of Catholicity which was dry\nand undemonstrative, to say the least, and wanting in the warmth of\ndevotion which we now rightly look upon as among the most valuable\naids to piety.\n\nNevertheless, it would be a great mistake to underestimate--as so many\nof the early Oxford converts did--the sterling qualities of the\npriesthood of the Vicariates. A more unworldly set of persons, with\ngreater conscientiousness and devotion to duty, has hardly existed in\nany age of the Church. Their life had a hardiness and simplicity about\nit which might well be a lesson to a modern priest. Their self-denial\nand the strictness of their personal lives, added to their remarkable\nhumility and obliteration of self, often indicated great holiness, but\nit was of a stamp which an outsider would not easily grasp. They\nthemselves in their daily conversations made light of their labours,\nand it was considered almost bad manners to talk of spiritual\nsubjects. All that was taken as a matter of course, and anyone who\nspoke of it would be suspected of self-consciousness. The concealment\nof their devotional life had become to them a second nature, and it is\nno wonder that the converts who were brought up under such different\nsurroundings failed to appreciate the real substantial virtues of a\npriest of the old school, or even failed to believe in their\nexistence, while the roughness of their external behaviour was no\nsmall trial to those who were brought across it for the first time.\nFull allowance for this must be made in reading the strictures which\nCardinal Manning made on the clergy with whom he was first brought\ninto close contact.\n\nYet we must admit that this self-effacement had become a hindrance to\ntheir work. The time had come when the sacraments could be publicly\nadministered, when many of the \"chapels\" had given place to churches\nwhich could reasonably be so called, with fonts, confessionals,\ntabernacles and ambries openly displayed, when a priest could go\nabroad not indeed in his cassock, but in a distinctively clerical\ndress, when he could live openly in a priest's house or presbytery,\nwhen the churches could be furnished in proper Catholic fashion with\nside altars, statues of our Lady and the Sacred Heart and the like,\nand there was no longer any reason to be shy of such practices as\nburning votive candles before pictures and shrines. Owing to their\ntraditions they did not easily take to such practices, and often even\ndiscouraged them as being what they described as \"Continental\nCatholicity,\" unsuited to the English character. And this spirit was\nintensified by the action of some of the converts who adopted the\nextreme opposite course, and carried their slavish imitation of\neverything Roman to a ridiculous degree. The practical result was that\nthe old Catholics became still more restrained as a protest against\nthe exaggerations of the new-comers, and it cannot be denied that the\nspirit of shyness of legitimate Catholic devotions thus engendered\ntended to stunt their development to an unfortunate degree.\n\nIt has, moreover, often been said, and still oftener assumed, that the\npriests of the old school were unfitted or unwilling to undertake new\nworks, such as the building of churches and schools, or other\ndevelopments requiring initiative and energy. It must be admitted that\nsuch was their tradition, for the simple reason that in the greater\npart of the eighteenth century, no such developments were called for.\nIt was a time of gradual shrinkage of all Catholic work, as mission\nafter mission was shut up. Those who read the account given in Joseph\nBerington's well-known _State and Behaviour of English Catholics from\nthe Reformation to the year 1780,_ will easily realise how the highest\nhope of the priest of that day was to keep what remained of\nCatholicity in the country, and to stem the wearying shrinkage which\npersistently went on in all Catholic work. It is probable that the\nEnglish clergy obtained their first lessons of development of such\nwork from their brethren, the _emigres_ priests from France, men such\nas the Bishop of St. Pol de Leon, or Abbe Carron of Somers Town, or\nAbbe Maurel of Hampstead, or Abbe Voyaux de Franous of Chelsea, or\nAbbe Cheverus of Tottenham (afterwards Cardinal Archbishop of\nBordeaux), or others who undertook such numerous works, primarily for\nthe benefit of their exiled compatriots, but works which reacted\npowerfully on the English Catholics themselves. But as soon as the\ntide was really turned, and the Relief Act of 1791 had begun to bear\nfruit, we do not find such a marked want of priests ready to initiate\nnew works. Such men as \"Father Thomas,\" afterwards Provost, Doyle, who\nbuilt St. George's Cathedral, or Rev. William Hunt, the founder of St.\nMary's, Moorfields, or Rev. Peter Butler of Bermondsey, were typical\npriests of the old school, and yet had large ideas which bore fruit in\nthe carrying out of important new works.\n\nIt is probable that as time went on, and such work was more and more\nneeded, priests would have been found ready to undertake them; but it\nmay be admitted that such ideas did not occupy a large part of the\nmind of the average priest of the day.\n\nWith respect to the Regular Clergy, many of the above limitations\naffected the character of their work in similar manner; but they had\nperhaps better means of combating them. They lived indeed outwardly\nthe same lay life as a secular priest; but at fixed intervals they had\nto retire abroad to their monasteries and live the regular life for a\ntime; and even when living in England as chaplains to the gentry, or\nin out-of-the-way country missions, they were able to keep some part\nat least of their rule. With the Jesuits this was especially the case,\nas their rule does not include reciting Office in choir, and is in\nfact specially adaptable to the conditions of a missionary priest.\nFrom the fact that they lived outwardly as the seculars, and were\noccupied over the same missionary work, while they had the advantage\nof a longer and more complete training, and continued it on the\nmission by the observance of their rule, which gave them greater\nopportunities of becoming spiritual men, they became more highly\nesteemed by the majority of the laity; and the feeling grew up that\ntheir vocation was the same as that of a secular priest, but that\ntheir rule caused them to live up to it better. They were looked upon\nas on a higher plane; a feeling which continued long after the\ncircumstances which had led to it had been substantially modified.\nEven the secular priests themselves seemed to acquiesce in it, and\nthough they were jealous of their own rights in matters\necclesiastical, they were often ready to hand over the more difficult\nwork to the Regulars, and seemed to assume that the latter were the\nmore experienced confessors or spiritual advisers, and that they were\nleading a higher life than themselves. It was the persistence of this\nidea which Cardinal Manning felt called upon to combat; and in order\nto combat the idea, the most direct method was to destroy the\ninequality of training which had given rise to it. We can quote his\nown words:--[1]\n\n\"My first thought was that no Provincial or Father General had any\nobligation to multiply and perfect his Order greater or more absolute\nthan I had to multiply and to perfect the priesthood of the diocese of\nWestminster. . . . What was the esteem in which the laity held them?\nThey, with exceptions, were held to be at a disadvantage as compared\nwith the Regulars: as preachers, confessors, directors, judges of\nvocation, advisers in spiritual and even in worldly things they were\nheld to be of less esteem. Many of them no doubt were so. But the\nwhole as such was higher in parts. On the other hand, many of the\nRegulars, with longer training and greater advantages, were better\nqualified than the priests of the diocese; but many were not so. And\nyet the laity took for granted that the clergy were 'seculars' and\nspoke of them as such. 'He is only a secular priest' was often heard,\nand it revealed a whole world of prejudice, depreciation and mistrust.\nThis was bad enough, but there was worse to come. The priesthood\naccepted the depreciation which depresses and paralyses the will. A\nconquered people lose the sense of power, and what is worse, take\ntheir state as a standard; so that priests have come to plead against\ninvitations and exhortations to higher things. 'I am only a secular\npriest.' What can be greater than a priest? For itself does it not\ncontain all perfection? What can black or white or brown cloth add to\nit? This seemed to me to be the first thing wanting. The world is\ngoverned by ideas, and the idea of our Lord's priesthood, truly and\nfully conceived, has a motive power to raise men to anything.\n\n\"The first thing needed, as it seemed to me, was to bring out into the\nclearest light what the priesthood is. It seemed to me to be obscured\nby the traditional prejudice that to be a Regular is to be everything,\nand to be a priest is to be functionary for sacraments and ceremonies.\nEven the priesthood of the Regular was lost sight of in his Order,\nhabit and privileges.\n\n\"This conviction was the motive of all that I did and wrote at\nBayswater. And more explicitly since 1869 in St. Thomas's Seminary and\nin two books, _The Pastoral Office_ and _The Eternal Priesthood._\"\n\nIt is no disrespect to the memory of so great a man as Cardinal\nManning, to say that like most men who pursue one great idea, he went\nsomewhat to extremes in working for his object. It is well known that\nhe discouraged or at times even prohibited the Regulars from giving\nmissions or retreats, in order to induce his clergy to do so instead.\nHe endeavoured to abolish the very name of a secular priest, as being\nidentified in the minds of many with low ideals and aspirations, and\npreferred the name \"diocesan clergy.\" He insisted that they had a\nbetter right than the Regulars to the title \"Father\" which from his\ntime began to be applied to them, after the manner in vogue in\nIreland; and this change has become so permanent that the old title of\n\"Mr.\" would to-day sound quite strange. Many of his clergy rose to the\noccasion, and undertook work which they had before looked upon as\noutside the scope of their vocation; and they soon achieved great\nsuccess in it. Let Cardinal Manning himself bear witness to this:--[2]\n\n\"The next aim I had,\" he writes, \"was to make the priests of the\ndiocese conscious of their own power as priests. . . . It forced\nitself upon me that dormant powers diminish, faculties in activity are\nenlarged, energies exerted continually grow in strength. Why then, I\nasked, should our priests always ask others to preach for them, to\ngive Missions and Retreats? Is it because they know themselves to be\nincapable? or because they have come to believe themselves to be\nincapable, because the laity so regard them? Is it true? If so, _in\nnomine Domini_ let us wipe away this reproach as speedily as ever we\ncan. Is it that our priests are discouraged and believe themselves to\nbe what is said of them? At all events the way to cure this incapacity\nis to do the things of which they are told that they are incapable.\nLet them preach, give Missions and Retreats, 'Use legs, have legs.'\n\n\"I have therefore encouraged them to give parochial missions, which\nhave greatly prospered; chiefly to the priests themselves. Many have\ntold me that they had no knowledge they possessed such power over\ntheir people; that in giving the missions a new light and strength\ncame to them, and a new piety came to their people. They had never\nbefore made a full trial of the priesthood, and of the powers dormant\nin it.\"\n\nThere can be no doubt that the work of Cardinal Manning was\nsuccessful, in that he raised the tone and work of the secular clergy\nin a marked degree. And his work had a certain reflection outside his\ndiocese, especially in the north, where the traditions of Dr. Newsham\nat Ushaw were still fresh. It is true that neither there nor after\nCardinal Manning's time in London, has the full exclusiveness which he\nintroduced been maintained. Missions and Retreats are fitly given by\nreligious not only because they have more leisure to give to a proper\npreparation, but also because the holiness of their lives will often\nreact upon the success of their work. The very fact of their being\noutside the ordinary parochial life is often an advantage for a\nmission. People confess to them more readily. But the idea that a\nsecular priest is by his state unfit for such work may be said to be\ndead, and from time to time, as occasion offers, we find them bearing\ntheir share of it. The expression \"only a secular priest\" has passed\nfrom out our vocabulary, and the old-fashioned depreciation of the\nsecular clergy is almost a thing of the past.\n\n\n[1] _Life of Cardinal Manning,_ ii. p. 784.\n\n[2] _Ibid._ p. 785\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE II\n\nTHE PRIESTLY VOCATION--_continued_\n\nIT was pointed out in the last Conference that the root of the evil of\nthe depreciation of the secular clergy in the past, was the idea, in\nwhich they seemed to acquiesce, that their vocation was similar to\nthat of the Regulars; but that not being religious, they were on a\nlower plane and could live with less high ideals and aspirations. The\ntrue fact, however, is that the two vocations are radically and\nessentially different. Each has its own special sphere of work in the\nChurch, and if properly lived up to, they will not clash, but will\nsupplement each other.\n\nConsider this one point. The secular clergy are trained and ordained\nfor the one special object of parochial or pastoral work; whereas in\nthe case of the regulars, such work is only incidental and secondary.\nMany--in some countries the majority--never do it at all; and in the\ncase of those who do, it is limited both in quality and amount by the\ndemands of the rule and traditions of their particular Order or\nCongregation.\n\nIt is true indeed that in this country in the penal days and after, a\nlarge amount of missionary work was done by the regulars under\nconditions not very dissimilar to those under which the seculars were\nworking. The English Benedictines became practically a missionary\ncongregation, and remained such until almost within living memory: but\nthis was due to the stress of the times. At an ordinary Benedictine\nmonastery the monks give themselves to a life of prayer and study, and\nto singing the Divine Office in choir, only a few of them doing any\nparochial or missionary work, and that always in subservience to their\nmonastic life.\n\nLet it be admitted if so desired that, in itself, this vocation is\nhigher than that of the secular clergy; for it makes the\nsanctification of him who receives it the first and chief concern, to\nwhich any work which he may undertake must be subordinate. In that way\nit becomes the highest possible state of life, for it fulfils our\nLord's test, [1] \"If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast and\ngive to the poor, and thou shalt have a treasure in heaven, and come,\nfollow Me.\" The traditional interpretation given by the Church to the\nwell-known text, \"Mary hath chosen the best part,\" [2] indicates the\ngreater dignity of the contemplative over the active life.\n\nMany religious orders, however, especially the modern congregations,\nwere not founded for the contemplative life in this strict sense, but\nrather for carrying out some active work of a specific nature, which\ncould be combined with the religious life. The Society of Jesus was\nfounded for special educational and other work; the Redemptorists were\nintended for giving missions to the uninstructed poor of the country\ndistricts; and similarly with others. Such Congregations will adapt\nthemselves, so far as they can, to altered conditions, and will often\nundertake work such as was not exactly contemplated by their founders;\nbut they will always regulate the amount which they undertake by the\nconsideration of the limitations of their rule and the number of their\nsubjects available, their general principle being that no member must\nbe given work which either in degree or in kind would interfere with\nhis own religious life, for that is the primary object of his\nvocation. For every one of them is bound to aim at perfection, which\nis of the essence of his state.\n\nThis consideration is so important as to be an excuse for quoting at\nsome length a portion of a well-known letter of Cardinal Wiseman in\nwhich he urges it. When he first came to London as Bishop in 1847, and\nsaw the amount of work among the poor that was calling out to be done,\nand the utter inadequacy of the secular clergy in point of numbers to\ncope with it, he conceived the idea of putting much of it as special\nwork into the hands of the religious Congregations, who were then\nsettling in London: but he found in every case that their missionary\nactivities were strictly limited both as to quantity and quality. We\ncan quote his own words:-- [3]\n\n\"1. The Jesuits have a splendid church, a large house, several\npriests, besides Westminster. [4] Scarcely was I settled in London,\nthan I applied to their Superior to establish here a _community_ in\ndue form, of some ten or twelve fathers. I also asked for missionaries\nto give retreats to congregations, etc. I was answered on both heads,\nthat dearth of subjects made it impossible. Hence we have under them,\nonly a church which, by its splendour, attracts and absorbs the wealth\nof two parishes, but maintains no schools and contributes nothing\ntowards the education of the poor at its very door. . . .\n\n\"2. The Redemptorists came to London as a missionary Order, and I\ncheerfully approved of and encouraged their coming. When they were\nsettled down, I spoke to them of my cherished plan of missions to and\namong the poor. I was told that this was not the purpose of their\ninstitute _in towns,_ and that 'another Order would be required for\nwhat I wanted.' The plea of 'rule' is one which I have all along\ndetermined to respect; and I had no more to say. They have become, so\nfar as London is concerned, a parochial body, taking excellent care of\nClapham, having five or six priests and abundant means for it. . . .\n\n\"3. The Passionists I brought first to England, in consequence of\nhaving read what their founder felt for it, and of a promise I made to\nFather Dominic years before I got them placed at Aston Hall, and\nthence they have spread. In consequence it was decreed that the\nprincipal house should be in London when I came to it. . . . They have\nnever done me a stroke of work among the poor. . . .\n\n\"4. The Marists I brought over for a local purpose, and they are\nanswering well. I hope for much good from them in Spitalfields, but,\nat least at present, I dare not ask them about general work.\n\n\"5. And now, last, I come to the institute of which I almost\nconsidered myself a member, San Filippo's Oratory. I have never\nomitted an opportunity of expressing my thankfulness to God for its\nestablishment here, and for the many graces it has brought with it, in\nthe piety it has diffused, and the many it has converted. But as a\nmatter of fact, you know that external work, the work I have been\nsighing for, is beyond its scope.\n\n\"You know\" (he continues) \"how rigidly I have respected 'rule,' how I\nnever thought of forcing a parish on you, how I have refrained from\nasking cooperation, even a sermon, because I would ask for nothing\nwhich I understood to be incompatible with the Institute's purpose. .\n. . Two things I have always respected in the case of all Orders,\n_vocation_ and _rule_.\"\n\nAnd he sums up as follows:--\n\n\"Look at the position in which I am . . . I have introduced, or\ngreatly encouraged, the establishment of _five_ religious\ncongregations in my diocese; and I am just (for the great work) where\nI first began! Not one of them can (for it cannot be want of will)\nundertake it. It comes within the purpose of none of them to try.\nSouls are perishing around them, but they are prevented by the rules,\ngiven by Saints, from helping to save them--at least in anything but a\nparticular and definite way.\"\n\nIn the case of secular priests, no such reasons for limiting their\nwork can ever enter in. It is sufficient that the work is there,\nwaiting to be done, and they must put their hands to it, even though\ntheir number be hopelessly inadequate to perform it with anything like\ncompleteness or efficiency. They are, as it were, the residuary\nlegatees of the needs of the Church, and often have to do the roughest\nwork for the simple reason that no one else has undertaken it. Many a\npriest is in charge of a mission, either alone or in company with\nothers, in which the amount to be done is hopelessly out of proportion\nto the supply of men to do it. Yet he cannot refuse. He must do what\nhe can, as well as he can, and leave the rest in the hands of Divine\nProvidence. This is surely nothing to be ashamed of: it is rather the\nchief glory of the secular clergy that the roughest work of the Church\nfalls to our lot, and we are continually called upon to do that which\nthe religious, for good and lawful reasons, cannot undertake. One\nsometimes hears of dissatisfaction at their having missions which are\nflourishing so far as this world's resources are concerned. It may be\nthat it is their hard work and self-denial which has caused their\nmissions to become so; but whether this is the full explanation or\nnot, there is no reason why we should envy them: rather they should\nenvy us, in the difficult and uphill work which has been laid upon us\nby the providence of God.\n\nNor can we refuse to do it on the plea that our spiritual life will\nsuffer. Such will indeed seem at first sight to be the case. Consider\nthe example of a busy mission in London or one of our large towns,\nespecially if it be a single-handed one. On an ordinary Sunday there a\npriest cannot possibly devote much time to his own religious\nexercises. He will perhaps have to say two masses, to preach possibly\nmore than once, to catechise children, and give Benediction, and to\nadminister the sacraments of Confession, Holy Communion, and Baptism\nat different times of the day. Manifestly his own meditation,\nspiritual reading and the like have to be omitted. Even his Office is\nsaid with difficulty, a great part of it perhaps at the end of a long\nday's work when he is hardly physically fit to say it, and might with\nadvantage profit by our English privilege of substituting the Rosary.\nOften on the Monday he will not have sufficiently recovered and has as\nfar as possible to take a day's rest. Thus his regular spiritual\nexercises are at best limited to five days in the week, on the last of\nwhich--the Saturday--the pressure of the coming Sunday work is already\nmaking itself felt, with the duties of preparing sermons, and perhaps\nsitting long hours in the Confessional. This weekly break is an\neffective hindrance to any strict adherence to a rule of life, and\nprevents the personal self-sanctification of a secular priest from\nbeing so systematic as that of a religious. Indeed, even on an average\nweek-day, it is impossible to adhere at all rigidly to any self-made\nrule. If a priest has to go out to say mass at a Convent, it is hard\nto avoid his daily meditation being performed in a perfunctory\nfashion, or sometimes even omitted altogether. If he has to say mass\ntwice or three times a week at ten o'clock and on other mornings at\neight--as is often the case in town missions--regularity of life\ndisappears. Then much of his pastoral work--such as visitations, sick\ncalls, or unexpected calls to the Confessional--is entirely uncertain\nand variable as to time, and cannot be foreseen. Moreover, the\nanxieties of a priest are very distracting to the even tenor of our\nspiritual life. Add to this that much of his recreation has to be\ntaken late in the evening, as being the only time that his friends in\nthe parish are at home, and it is difficult to refuse _all_\ninvitations to dine out, or his position among his parishioners would\nsuffer: yet the evening is the time of day when naturally a spiritual\nman wishes to be recollected.\n\nWhat then? Are the secular clergy to surrender their own\nsanctification for the sake of their work? The question has only to be\nasked to be answered in the negative. The dignity of the priesthood\nand the pastoral office is enough to put such an idea out of our\nthoughts. Some of the greatest saints of the Church--including the\nApostles themselves--belonged to the secular clergy: and it would be\nmanifest blasphemy to look on their state as anything but a school of\nholiness. Certainly we must look for an answer in a different\ndirection from this.\n\nThree different answers may be suggested, each of which can lead us to\nimportant considerations.\n\nIn the first place we have the three great Evangelical Virtues,\nPoverty, Chastity and Obedience, as practised by the priest, which\ninform their whole lives and give a character and greatness which\novershadows everything that they do. These are so important that\nseparate Conferences will be given to the consideration of each. Let\nit suffice here, then, to enumerate them as the first answer to the\ndifficulty we are considering, of how the secular priesthood is to be\nmade a school of holiness.\n\nThe second answer is the spirit which prompts us to do our work. It is\na spirit of complete self-sacrifice and trust in God, who will in his\nown way watch over His priests and ministers, so that if they have\nsacrificed themselves for the sake of preaching the Gospel of His\nkingdom, He will in return take them under his protection and\naccomplish their sanctification in His own manner and in His own time.\n\nLet us take comfort when we examine our lives. We may find that our\ndaily exercises have been very irregular; that our meditation has been\ncut short, or elbowed out; our spiritual reading has often been\npostponed till late at night, or performed in perfunctory or\ndistracted manner, or not infrequently omitted; our Office has been\nsaid at odd times whenever we could fit it in; perhaps we have not\nalways been regular even at our daily mass. The cause of much of this\nhas no doubt been culpable; we might have been less irregular than we\nhave been. But if we can truly say that it was in great measure due to\nthe unequal pressure of our work, and that the primary cause is\ntraceable to the necessary sacrifice of our ministry we can feel\nconfidence in the result; for whatever our shortcomings in detail, we\nhave in the main been practising the highest kind of self-sacrifice,\nand the kind which is specially characteristic of our vocation as\nsecular priests. This is the advice insisted on in the _Imitation of\nChrist_: [5] \"Evil ought not to be done either for anything in the\nworld, or for the love of any man; but for the profit of one that\nstands in need, a good work is sometimes freely to be omitted, or\nrather to be changed for a better. For by doing thus, a good work is\nnot lost, but is changed into a better. Without charity the outward\nwork profiteth nothing; but whatever is done out of charity, be it\nnever so little and contemptible, all becomes fruitful. For God\nregards more with how much affection and love a person performs a work\nthan how much he does.\"\n\nBut if we have often to set aside our rule of life, and postpone or\ngive up our religious exercises at the call of charity, we should be\ncareful to maintain strictness in not giving them up for other\nreasons, as, for example, for the sake of some recreation, or through\npure laziness. Here also we may quote the _Imitation_: [6] \"If for\npiety's sake, or with a design to the profit of our neighbour we\nsometimes omit our accustomed exercises, it may afterwards be easily\nrecovered. But if through a loathing of mind or negligence it be\nlightly let alone, it is no small fault and will prove harmful.\" So\nlong as we act strictly on this principle, we shall find that hard\nwork, however distracting, is not a bar to holiness. \"Let no one\nthink,\" says Cardinal Manning, [7] \"that a busy life cannot be a holy\nlife. The busiest life may be full of piety. Holiness consists not in\ndoing uncommon things, but in doing all common things with an uncommon\nfervour. No life was ever more full of work and of its interruptions\nthan the life of our Lord and His Apostles. They were surrounded by\nthe multitude, and 'there were many coming and going, and they had not\nso much as time to eat' (St. Mark vi. 31). Nevertheless, a busy life\"\n(he adds) \"needs a punctual and sustained habit of prayer. It is\nneither piety nor charity for a priest to shorten his preparation\nbefore mass or his thanksgiving after it because people are waiting\nfor him. He must first wait upon God, and then he may serve his\nneighbour.\"\n\nA third answer to our question on the means of our sanctification may\nbe given, of a different kind from the other two. It is that the very\nworks of our ministry may be a direct source of sanctification far\ngreater than the various exercises, which from time to time we give\nup. Some of these we may enumerate.\n\nFirst and foremost comes our daily mass. This can never be omitted\nthrough pressure of external work, whether there is a congregation or\nnot. Time was, when in the days of our youth, we looked forward to the\nprivilege of saying mass as almost too great and too sacred to be\nspoken of. It seemed to us that with this daily privilege, all life\nwould be sanctified and sin would become impossible to us. What has\nbeen our experience after many years of this daily privilege? Has it\nfulfilled our expectation? Alas, our first experience has been that\nwith frequent repetition the act has become perfunctory, and has often\nbeen performed with inadequate preparation, too short a thanksgiving,\nand little real devotion. Perhaps we have been free in too often\nomitting it. But it is not too much to assert that when it has been\nsaid properly, with suitable preparation and recollection, it has more\nthan realised our most sanguine expectations, and that no instrument\nof sanctification could exceed in strength the daily mass of the\npriest, well prepared, well celebrated, and with a suitable\nthanksgiving.\n\nAfter this we may look at the various exercises of the pastoral\nministry. Take the Confessional; who can rise up from a long session\nin the box without the consciousness that he is a better man? Why is\nit that the time spent in the exercise of hearing the Confessions of\nothers never seems long, except that during the whole time we are\nconscious that it is reacting upon ourselves? Cardinal Manning\nenumerates five different truths upon which the Confessor\nassimilates:-- [8]\n\n\"First, self-knowledge, by bringing things to his own remembrance and\nby showing him his own face in a glass by the lives of sinners.\n\n\"Secondly, contrition, in the sorrow of penitents who will not be\nconsoled.\n\n\"Thirdly, delicacy of conscience in the innocent whose eye being\nsingle and their body full of light, accuse themselves of omissions\nand deviations from the will of God which we, perhaps, daily commit\nwithout discernment.\n\n\"Fourthly, aspiration by the fervent, whose one desire and effort, in\nthe midst of burdened and restless homes, is to rise higher and higher\nin union with God.\n\n\"Fifthly, self-accusation at our own unprofitableness, from the\ngenerosity and fidelity of those who are hindered on every side, and\nyet in humility, self-denial, charity and union with God surpass us,\nwho have every gift of time and grace needed for perfection.\"\n\nA similar effect is produced in us by the ordinary visitation of our\npeople, even in the most difficult surroundings. How many do we not\ncome across whose daily uphill struggle for virtue puts our own lives\nto shame! Others whose trust in God in apparently hopeless\ncircumstances, and the answers which we see to their prayers, bring\nthe closeness of God's providence over His elect sensibly nearer to\nus. Then our prayer with our people and for our people, our\ninstructions and sermons, our indirect influence over them, all alike\ncontinually keep us in the presence of God. There is a tendency among\nsome priests to look upon the devotions in which they lead their\npeople as one thing, and their own spiritual exercises--their Office,\nMeditation, Spiritual Reading--as another. There is no need for any\nsuch distinction. The devotions which a priest goes through with his\npeople--the Rosary, confraternity prayers, Benediction and the like--\nreact on his spiritual life quite as strongly as his Meditation or\nSpiritual Reading which he may have omitted in their favour. The Cure\nof Ars for many years practically gave up his private spiritual\nexercises, except his mass, in order to devote the whole of his time\nto his pastoral work, either in the Confessional, or in the midst of\nhis people, preaching to them, or saying night prayers or other\ndevotions with them. In his later years he was dispensed by Rome even\nfrom saying his Office. His was indeed an extreme case; but the same\nprinciples hold good, in their measure, in the case of every priest\nwho devotes himself to his pastoral work. Even the sin and misery\nwhich we see around us, bring vividly before us the dignity of our own\noffice in trying to rescue our people from the results of their own\nfolly. Still more when we minister at the death either of one who has\nled a good Christian life, or one who has become a true penitent, are\nwe brought almost into touch with the other world. There is a\nsacredness about a Catholic death-bed which is all its own. One moment\nthe patient is going through the last of his sufferings in this world,\ndependent upon our poor help and our prayers, and receiving the\nconsolations of religion at our hands: a moment later he is in the\nother world, looking down on us, with knowledge and experience which\nwe so long to have, his salvation we hope assured, and this the result\nof our ministry. Can any priest come back from a Catholic death-bed\nwithout a feeling of awe, and his faith strengthened as though he were\nin actual contact with the next world?\n\nTo sum up then, the pastoral work of the priest is in itself a means\nof sanctification as direct and as efficacious as any personal\nreligious exercises can be; and while we should always be jealous of\nomitting any of our accustomed devotions through carelessness or\nlaziness, we need have no misgiving when they are omitted in\nconsequence of the pressure of our pastoral work. We may fitly\nconclude with one more quotation from Cardinal Manning on the\nsanctifying power of the self-sacrifice which a true pastor\npractises:-- [9]\n\n\"The pastoral office is in itself a discipline of perfection. For\nfirst of all it is a life of abnegation of self. A pastor has so many\nobediences to fulfil, as he has souls to serve. The good and the evil,\nthe sick and the whole, the young and the old, the wise and the\nfoolish, the worldly and the unworldly--who are not always wise--the\npenitent and the impenitent, the converted and the unconverted, the\nlapsed and the relapsed, the obdurate and the defiant, all must be\nwatched over--none may be neglected, still less cast off--always, at\nall times and in all ways possible. St. Philip used to say that a\npriest should have no time of his own, and that many of his most\nconsoling conversations came to him out of hours at unseasonable\nmoments. If he had sent them away because they came out of time, or at\nsupper-time and the like, they might have been lost. Then again, the\ntrials of temper, patience, self-control in bearing with the strange\nand inconsiderate minds that come to him, and the demands made upon\nhis strength and endurance day and night in the calls of the sick and\ndying, coming often one after another when for a moment he has gone to\nrest; the weary and continual importunities of people and of letters,\ntill the sound of the bell or the knock at the door is a constant\nforeboding, too surely fulfilled; all these things make a pastor's\nlife as wearisome, and, strange to say, as isolated as if he were in\nthe desert. No sackcloth so mortifies the body as this life of\nperpetual self-abnegation mortifies the will. But when the will is\nmortified, the servant is like his Master, and his Master is the\nexemplar of all perfection.\"\n\n\n[1] St. Matt. xix. 21.\n\n[2] St. Luke x. 42.\n\n[3] _Life of Wiseman,_ ii. p. 116.\n\n[4] i.e. The old Jesuit mission in Romney Terrace, afterwards\nHorseferry Road, now absorbed in the Cathedral parish. The letter was\nwritten on October 27, 1852.\n\n[5] Book I, xix. 3.\n\n[6] _Ibid.,_ xv. i.\n\n[7] _Eternal Priesthood,_ p. 81.\n\n[8] _Ibid.,_ p. 104.\n\n[9] _Ibid.,_ p. 58.\n\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE III\n\nPOVERTY\n\nTHERE is nothing new in the remark that Christ at His coming\nsanctified the state of poverty in a manner totally new to the world.\nIn this relation we look upon the circumstances which surrounded His\nbirth as a very special Providence. The life of the Holy Family at\nNazareth was indeed one of ordinary but apparently not extreme\npoverty. The question \"Is not this the son of the carpenter whom we\nknow?\" \"Is not this the carpenter?\" show us that our Lord and St.\nJoseph practised a trade in the ordinary way, like any other Jews\nwould have done, working no doubt day by day for their living, but not\nin a state of destitution, or in want for the necessaries of life. By\na combination of circumstances however, which we believe to have been\nbrought about by God for this express purpose, His birth took place\naway from His home and from the friends of His mother and St. Joseph,\nin surroundings which were without what may fairly be considered as\nthe necessaries of life. It was under these circumstances that He\npreached His first sermon on the dignity of Poverty.\n\nIt was a new idea to the people and one of which the world had never\nbefore heard. The poor have ever formed the vast majority of mankind;\nyet the instinct has always been to look down upon them. The ancient\nRomans looked upon the needy and the afflicted as the object of the\nmalediction of the gods. A story is told of one of the Emperors\nsending a whole shipload of them to sea, and having the vessel sunk,\nso as to rid the city of their presence. The Jews had indeed learnt\nsomething less opposed to the truth; but even they looked upon Poverty\nas a misfortune. A promise of an earthly reward was necessary as a\nstimulus to lead them on to do their duty. \"I am the Lord thy God, who\nbrought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.\"\n\"Honour thy father and thy mother, that thou mayest be long lived upon\nthe land which the Lord thy God will give thee.\" A modest competency\nwas to them the minimum that was put before them to deliver them from\ncare and anxiety. \"Give me neither beggary nor riches: give me only\nthe necessaries of life.\" [1] Yet they knew that if the poor were\nfaithful to God, He would protect them; and indeed that one of the\nattributes of the God of the Jews was His providential care of the\npoor. \"He shall judge the poor of the people, and he shall save the\nchildren of the poor, and he shall humble the oppressors. . . . He\nshall deliver the poor from the mighty, and the needy that had no\nhelper. He shall spare the poor and needy; and he shall save the\nsouls of the poor.\" [2]\n\nOur Lord in His teaching, however, went far beyond anything which even\nthe Jews had before their minds, when He proclaimed that Poverty was\nthe true state of blessedness. His first recorded words as official\nteacher of mankind are \"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is\nthe kingdom of heaven.\" In another passage we read still more\nexplicitly, [3] \"Blessed are ye poor, for yours is the kingdom of God;\nBlessed are ye that hunger now, for you shall be filled; Blessed are\nye that weep now, for you shall laugh; . . . but woe to you that are\nrich, for you have your consolation. Woe to you that are filled, for you\nshall hunger; woe to you that now laugh, for you shall mourn and\nweep.\" He is here putting the state of poverty forward as the state of\nblessing, more to be desired than the state of riches.\n\nThe same idea we find enforced by our Lord in His teaching in numerous\ninstances. He speaks of as \"the Mammon of Iniquity,\" so intimately\nconnected does He consider them with vice. More than that. He speaks\nas though the salvation of a rich man was so difficult as to be almost\na test of God's omnipotence. \"It is easier for a camel to pass through\nthe eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of\nGod. . . . With man it is impossible; but with God all things are\npossible.\" [4]\n\nConsider also some of our Lord's parables in this regard. The\nwell-known one of Dives and Lazarus at once occurs to mind. The rich\nman is not accused of any particular evil; but simply he lived\ntrusting in his riches, the selfish life of which they are so often\nthe foundation. He \"was clothed in purple and fine linen and feasted\nsumptuously every day\"; while Lazarus \"lay at his gate full of sores,\ndesiring to be filled with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's\ntable\"; and it is added almost as a matter of course that after death\ntheir lots are reversed. Abraham is depicted as saying to the rich\nman, \"Son, remember that thou didst receive good things in thy\nlifetime, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted,\nand thou are tormented.\" [5] In another parable we have placed before\nus one who trusted so much in his accumulated wealth that he said to\nhimself, \"Thou hast much good laid up for many years, take thy rest,\neat, drink, make good cheer\"; and the merited rejoinder is \"Thou fool;\nthis night do they require thy soul of thee, and where shall those\nthings be which thou hast provided?\" [6] These examples might be\nmultiplied indefinitely.\n\nThere is no danger of the virtue of poverty being lost sight of by the\nChurch. The whole attitude of the clergy and devout laity affords\nopportunities of charity to the poor. Not only do they practise\nalmsgiving to a degree far beyond any question of strict duty, but\nmany of them give themselves to personal work among the poor, which is\nmore valuable than silver and gold, while the modern active\ncongregations of nuns are fully appreciated especially for the work\nthat they do among the poor. One of the most sanctifying phases of a\npriest's life is his close contact with the poor. The man of the world\nat best looks upon them as persons to be pitied, to be relieved, to be\nhelped; in modern times, they teach them to combine together to insist\non the betterment of their state--a movement with which, if carried on\nwith proper responsibility and care, the Church is in full sympathy.\nBut so long as the world goes on, so long there will be poor people in\nit, and to the Christian, still more to the priest, the natural\nattitude is something bordering on reverence for the poor; for to them\nChristian virtues such as humility, work, self-denial, obedience, come\nalmost naturally as the accompaniment of their state. Their very\nnecessities almost compel them to seek comfort from God in prayer.\nMany of the poor indeed neglect these advantages and make their\npoverty a source of discontent and even murmuring against Divine\nProvidence in this regard. Equally a rich man may practise poverty of\nspirit; but it does not come easily. \"How _hardly_ shall they who have\nriches enter into the kingdom of God.\" [7]\n\nWhile however a priest easily understands the sanctifying effects of\npoverty in others, there is a real danger that he may fail to\nappreciate it in himself. The anxious and worrying effect on the mind,\nthe continuous trouble as much as the self-denial necessitated by the\nconditions of his life seem to interfere with his power of prayer and\nwith the proper sanctification of his duties. Yet in truth the facing\nof such conditions may react in a far more sanctifying way than the\nprayers and devotions which they impede: the prayer of a poor man in\nanxiety and distress, even though a distracted prayer, may be more\nefficacious than the ordinary prayer of the man in comfortable\ncircumstances.\n\nThank God, in England there is no chance of a priest being anything\nelse than a poor man. But there are degrees of poverty amongst us\naccording to the missions at which we are stationed and other\ncircumstances; and from the fact of the general state being\ninevitable, we are apt to lose sight of its value and long for\npositions where we have to practise it less rather than more.\n\nIt is well for us then to think over and apply to ourselves the fact\nthat Poverty as such should be looked upon as a true blessing, to be\ndesired as the ordinary means by which our lives may be raised up and\nmade like to that of our Divine Master. True, indeed, our wish should\nbe for whatever surroundings will best enable us to carry out the work\nwhich God has destined for us individually; and whatever He sends us,\nwe joyfully accept. But so far as we have any wish or longing, the\nblessing we should prefer should not be riches, but poverty, for that\nmake us more like to Him.\n\nIt is just here, when we come to reduce theory to practice, that our\nstate contrasts with that of a religious. In one sense--and a true\nsense--they practise the virtue in its fulness, and we should never\nunderestimate the spirit of self-sacrifice necessary in order to have\nnothing that they can call their own. But in another sense, religious\npoverty may be easier to practise than that with which a secular\npriest is faced. For their wants are always provided for, and they are\nfree from the anxieties of poverty with which we are familiar. St.\nIgnatius gives it as one of the fruits of whole-hearted sacrifice in\nthe Society, that it relieves its members of all care. They live\nindeed in what may be called in the words of Pope Leo XIII \"frugal\ncomfort,\" such as befits men who are poor; but they are free from\nanxiety. For St. Alphonsus it was not enough that his subjects should\nuse things that are cheap; but he wished that they should be rough and\ncommon things, so that the spirit of poverty might not be wanting. And\nmany inconveniences distinctive of poverty are common to all\nreligious. But so long as their order or congregation exists and\nflourishes they need have no care or anxiety for themselves or their\nfuture.\n\nOur poverty, however, is of a totally different type, and our dangers\nof a different nature. The life of a secular priest may be full of\ncare and anxiety on the question of money--difficulty of making ends\nmeet, support of church and school, perhaps the weight of a capital\ndebt, good works languishing for want of means--the poor dependent on\nhim--and so forth. He will wear a threadbare coat, and deny himself\nany food or comfort that are not absolutely necessary for the sake of\nhis people and his work. This is a poverty more wearing and apparently\nless sanctifying. Poor jaded human nature longs to be free from care\nand anxiety, and we easily lose sight of the supernatural power of\npoverty. We look on it as the unfortunate accompaniment of the\nexisting state of Catholic England; we fail to remember that it is one\nof the great sources of blessing on it. Hence the anxiety of some\npriests to be placed on better missions, with more pay and less work,\na hope for better days in recognition of past services and so forth.\n\nWhat is to be our remedy? How are we to learn to love our poverty, to\nrealise its power for good, to make it, as it can be made, the\ngreatest source of our sanctification?\n\nThe answer to all these questions is one and the same. Our life must\nhave about it the notes and characteristics of the poor men that we\nare. It must be a life of humility and self-effacement, hardiness, and\nof work; there must be no self-indulgence; and, above all, we must\nsurrender our liberty to the call of duty. Let us consider these\npoints in detail.\n\n1. A poor man does not think of himself individually; he knows that he\nis only one of a multitude of human beings similarly circumstanced. He\nhas to work for his living, and is willing to put up with whatever his\nlot may be, provided he can earn what is necessary for the support of\nhimself and those who depend on him. He does not resent being\nslighted: he looks upon it as his natural lot. Nor does he put forward\nhis own wishes or opinions. He only desires to be able to go his way\nand do his daily work. Our Lord was in this, as in other things, our\nmodel. He had lived nearly thirty years at Nazareth, and all that his\nfellow townspeople had to say of Him was, \"Is not this the\ncarpenter?\"--as though to say, \"Is he not like any other carpenter?\"--\n\"How came this man by all these things?\" (St. Mark vi. 2, 3.) In like\nmanner a priest with the spirit of poverty will seek no notoriety,\nwill not wish to be known from his fellow clergy, but will only seek\nto be allowed to live the daily life on the mission, and to share its\nblessings. He will look on the ordinary rough usage of life merely as\nincidents to be expected, while he pursues the end of his calling, the\nacquisition not of temporal, but of spiritual riches: the \"unum\nnecessarium,\" so far as he is concerned.\n\n2. A poor man does not seek after self-indulgence. If money is spent\non himself, he has to do additional work to earn it: this thought is a\nperpetual stimulus to self-denial. In similar manner, to a priest on\nthe mission there is plenty of such stimulus. Such small sums of money\nas may pass through his hands are wanted over and over again for the\nrelief of the poor around him. Their needs are ever present, and\nappeal loudly and forcibly to him. If he is a rector, the expenses of\nthe mission have to be met, and they are often increased by having to\nfind interest on mortgages or capital debt, sometimes leaving little\nor nothing for personal expenses or salary. Here necessity to some\nextent asserts itself; but not altogether. A priest in a so-called\ncomfortable mission has the physical power to make himself very\ncomfortable. He can furnish his rooms well, so that they appeal both\nto his artistic sense and to his self-indulgence: he can spend money\nenough to give himself the best of food, without sinning against\njustice or defrauding anybody; he can save money enough for a\nfirst-rate holiday once a year. His work may languish, though he does\nall he is bound to do, and no one can make a complaint against him.\n\nYet he is living a life unworthy of his state, and one which will not\nbring any blessing on him such as the sanctification of his flock.\nWhere is his spirit of poverty? Has a poor man always plenty of good\nfood? Does not his work sometimes suffer from his forced\nabstemiousness? Can he give himself a holiday of the nature indicated?\nTruly many a man of the world would envy the comfortable life of a\npriest who has lost the spirit of poverty. A zealous priest on the\nother hand will strive to live economically. His measure of food is\njust that which will support him and enable him to do his work\nefficiently: his measure of comfort [8] will be that which he needs\nfor his work. If he be in a well-to-do mission, he will willingly save\nwhat he can for the relief of the poor at his doors. If he is on a\npoorer mission, or if he is a junior priest, he will willingly accept\nany necessary self-denial, both as a schooling for himself and because\nhe knows that what is saved will find a worthy destination in the\nhands of the poor and needy, or in the support of the Church.\n\n3. A poor man is a hard-working man. \"Exibit homo ad opus suum, et ad\noperationem suum usque ad vesperam.\" \"Man shall go forth to his work,\nand to his labour until evening.\" [9] Such is the ordinary lot of\nmortals. By far the majority have to work for their daily bread. They\nonly think themselves fortunate to have work ready to their hands\nwhich will enable them to earn what they require. Now a priest may be\na hardworking man or not as he himself decides. The amount of work\nabsolutely necessary and binding _ex justitia_ is usually not large.\nHis Sunday duty may be heavy; but during the greater part of the week\nhe is free. But if he has the spirit of his state, the work ready to\nhis hand is inexhaustible; and the salvation of numberless souls\ndepends upon his doing it. \"Why stand ye here all the day idle?\" is\nChrist's reproach to those who have time on their hands and do not use\nit. St. Alphonsus made a vow that he would never pass a minute of time\nunoccupied. Such a vow if kept to would mean a heroic life. Far short\nof that we can well learn to use our time with the sense of\nresponsibility. To throw away time in inordinate reading of the\nnewspapers, accompanied with the smoking of cigarettes, may not be\ndefinitely sinful; but it is throwing away opportunities which will\nnever recur. A hard-working business man once explained to the writer\nthat he never wasted a moment of time: so much so that if he had to\nwait in a waiting-room before seeing some one, he would exercise\nhimself by valuing in his mind all the objects of furniture, which he\nconsidered a good business training of the faculties. Truly the\nchildren of this world are in their way wiser than the children of\nlight. He said Time is money: we can say, Time is eternal life. Which\nof the two maxims makes time more valuable, or should make us harder\nworkers?\n\n4. Uncertainty as to the future. We often hear a demand among the\nclergy for \"fixity of tenure.\" This means that a Rector, without\nCanonical fault, should not be removable from his mission, which\nshould be bound to give him support in sickness and old age. There is\nnothing unreasonable in this aspiration, at least for those who have a\ncertain number of years of work behind them: the ordinary law of the\nChurch is designed to produce such security. Nevertheless, we in\nEngland, when we were truly missioners, and had no such claim to fall\nback upon, were undoubtedly practising the virtue of poverty in a\nhigher degree than those who had complete and permanent parochial\nlivings. A poor man's future is always precarious, depending on his\nservices being still wanted, his employers being themselves\nprosperous, his own health remaining strong, and a thousand other\ncontingencies of life. A missioner in accepting a like state of\nprecariousness is putting himself on a higher plane than that of the\nordinary parochial clergy, and many priests, with the true spirit of\ntheir vocation, have rejoiced in their condition in this respect, the\nhardship of which has been much mitigated by the existence of clergy\nfunds which secure to the aged and infirm an amount of help quite out\nof proportion with the entrance fees or subscriptions they have to\npay, and thus far better than any mutual help association of the\nworking man.\n\nIn recent years, however, this question has been settled permanently.\nWhatever the effect here in England of the legislation of Pius X--\nabout which there has been some difference of opinion--in the revised\nCanon Law it is laid down that in all countries in which there is a\nHierarchy, the rectors of the churches are to be \"Parochi\"; but\nwhether or not they have security of tenure is left to the Bishop to\ndecide in each case. It is possible that our custom in England may\ncontinue without much change, and only those who have what were\nformerly known as Missionary Rectories will have true security of\ntenure: that, however, will depend on the individual Bishop. But at\nleast, we can say that those who are called to work long years without\nsuch security, will be called to practise the virtue of poverty in a\nhigher degree than the others. A priest with the true missionary\nvocation will do good while he can, and leave the future in the hands\nof God. The practice of a priest saving up money for his old age is\nnot indeed to be condemned, but it is the less high course. How many\nhave done this for years and then the last summons came to them while\nstill in middle life, so that they had to leave their savings for\nothers to spend.\n\n5. Surrender of Liberty. The consideration of this can be postponed\nuntil the Conference on Obedience.\n\n[1] Prov. xxx. 8.\n\n[2] Ps. lxxxi. 4, 12.\n\n[3] St. Luke vi. 20.\n\n[4] St. Matt. xix. 24, 26,\n\n[5] St. Luke xvi. 19, 25.\n\n[6] St. Luke xii. 20.\n\n[7] St. Mark x. 23.\n\n[8] The question of how to furnish one's rooms must be always a\npersonal one for each priest to settle. To some, the advantage of an\nattractive room, artistically decorated, both as to furniture and\npictures, may be a help towards their work, and induce them to spend\ntime among their books which might otherwise be frittered away. But\nthe effeminate or even luxurious method of furnishing that one has\noccasionally seen is hard to defend in a priest's room. Cardinal\nVaughan ends his book on _The Young Priest_ by this advice:--\n\n\"We have but one caution to offer, and that is, not to furnish your\nroom as though it were a lady's boudoir. Indulgence in this kind of\ntaste tells unfavourably upon a Priest's own character and stamps the\nman in the judgment of others\" (_The Young Priest,_ p. 34).\n\n[9] Ps. ciii. 23.\n\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE IV\n\nCHASTITY\n\nWE are often asked by non-Catholics why it is that priests are not\nallowed to marry. It is a difficult question to answer in a few words,\nand becomes the more difficult from the obvious inability of even a\nwell-disposed person who is not a Catholic to understand our view of\nthe matter. We should probably answer by appealing to the conveniences\nof the rule. A man who is unmarried is free from encumbrances; he can\ngo where he is sent at short notice; in his daily life all the time\nand thought which he would otherwise spend on the affairs of his home\nand the bringing up of his children can be devoted to the direct work\nof his ministry. We might perhaps quote the words of St. Paul: \"He\nthat is without a wife is solicitous for the things that belong to the\nLord, how he may please God; but he that is with a wife is solicitous\nfor the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is\ndivided.\" [1] Or we might point to financial considerations to show\nthat it is a useful rule, for an unmarried priest can be supported on\na far lower income than a married one. A somewhat similar rule applies\nto the army, and for similar reasons, with this important limitation,\nthat soldiers cannot be expected to deprive themselves permanently of\nmatrimony, so that the limit of the rule is to restrict it to a\ncertain percentage, and to those of a certain age; whereas priests\nbeing called to a more self-denying life, are expected to do without\nit permanently.\n\nAll this is true as far as it goes; but we ourselves know that this is\nonly one aspect of the subject, and that not the most important one.\nThe fact that the Church faces scandals among the clergy in every age\nof her history, without showing any inclination to relax the rule,\nwould surely point to the fact that there are greater issues involved\nthan mere questions of finance or convenience. These scandals are\nindeed happily few--very few--in proportion to the total number of the\nclergy; but they are sufficiently numerous and sufficiently grave to\nmake us certain that the Church would not insist on the rule which\nmakes their recurrence possible, but for a good of surpassing and\nall-pervading importance.\n\nIn fact the Church has ever spoken with no uncertain voice on the\nexcellence of the celibate over the married state. Not that she\nunderrates the latter; on the contrary, by raising matrimony to the\ndignity of a sacrament and insisting on its indissolubility, she has\ndone much to raise the standard of domestic virtue and domestic\nhappiness, and to emphasise the greatness of the Christian home and\nfamily. But St. Paul says, \"He that giveth his virgin in marriage does\nwell\"; but \"he that giveth her not does better\"; [2] and the celibate\nstate has ever been regarded by the Church as higher than that of\nmatrimony.\n\nIn fact it would seem that the married state, great as it is, is\nhardly compatible with the highest sanctity: scarcely an instance\noccurs to mind of a canonised saint who died in the married state,\nexcept martyrs whose sanctification was accomplished by the very act\nof death.\n\nNor is there any difficulty in discerning our Lord's special love for\ncelibacy or virginity. An esteem for virginity was indeed the creation\nof Christianity. Even to the Jews, for a woman to have no children was\nconsidered a reproach, [3] if for no other reason, because it\ndestroyed any possibility of the Messiah being descended from her. It\nwas our Blessed Lady herself who first broke through this prejudice.\nFor her answer to the Archangel Gabriel can only mean that she\nesteemed the privilege of being ever a virgin more than the prospect\nof having the Messiah descended from her, or even that He should be\nher own son. It was only when it was explained to her that by a\nspecial dispensation of Providence her mothership was to be compatible\nwith her continued virginity that she gave the requisite consent, and\nthe Word was made Flesh within her womb. It is perhaps a thought that\nwe might make more prominent in our spiritual life that Mary, whom we\nlove to regard as the guardian of a priest's celibacy, was in truth\nthe first in this world to discover the excellence of that state, and\nthe first to practise it as a virtue.\n\nAnd there are other instances where our Lord showed His special\npredilection for this virtue. The \"disciple whom Jesus loved,\" whose\nhead was on His breast at the Last Supper, who stood beneath the\nCross, and received the commission to be the guardian of our Lady\nduring the remainder of her sojourn on this earth, according to\ntradition practised this virtue throughout his life in all its\nfulness, so that the Church on his feast day calls out, \"Valde\nhonorandus est beatus Joannes, quis upra pectus Domini in coena\nrecubuit; cui Christus in cruce matrem virginem virgini commendavit\";\nand again, \"Diligebat eum Jesus quoniam specialis praerogativa\ncastitatis ampliori dilectione fecerat dignum: quia virgo electus ab\nipso, virgo in aevum permansit. In cruce denique moriturus huic matrem\nsuam virginem Virgini commendavit, quia virgo electus ab ipso, virgo\nin aevum permansit.\"\n\nThese thoughts might easily be developed; but it is unnecessary, as--\ntheoretically at least--we are all familiar with the idea.\nNevertheless, there is often a danger that we may lose sight of its\nessence--that we may look upon celibacy as a mere disciplinary law of\nthe Church, made for prudential reasons, and our duty as merely to\nabstain from every thought or act which may endanger its observance--\nto look on celibacy, in short, as a negative rather than a positive\nprecept, forbidding us to do this or that, but not adding anything\nvery special to our daily spiritual life, beyond absence of sin. Yet\nthis gives one a very inadequate idea of what should be to us a most\npositive virtue, affecting our whole lives, giving to the priesthood\nour greatest glory, and to our lives the note of heroism.\n\nNow the positive side of the virtue of celibacy is in theory plain\nenough, at least in its main outline. Woman was created to be man's\nhelpmate, and she fulfils her calling in the first place by her power\nof sympathy. There is no human sympathy like that of a woman, and\ngranted that it is used within proper limits and restrictions, it is\none of the greatest helps which man can have in meeting the troubles\nand storms of life. The care and sympathy of his mother in youth, of\nhis wife in the heyday of life, of his daughters in old age, are the\nmost valuable helps to many a man of the world, to enable him to face\nwith success the difficulties of his state. In like manner when he\nwants counsel and advice he turns to that sex who have specially the\ngift of entering into another's difficulties and helping him through\nthem.\n\nThe essence of celibacy is that when we seek sympathy and counsel in\nour troubles and trials, or our work, and in all the affairs of life,\nwe turn not to human sympathisers, but to those whom we know by\nfaith--to our Lord in the Tabernacle, to His mother, to our patron\nsaints, to our guardian angel, etc. The sympathy we get differs from\nthat which is to be obtained in the world in the first place in the\nabsence of the feeling of sense, which is the first and easiest remedy\nand that which we should look for as the natural accompaniment of\nsympathy in the world. This does not mean that it is less real: on the\ncontrary, it is far more real and more powerful. If a priest is sent\nany great trouble or anxiety, and instead of seeking human consolation\nand guidance, goes straight into his Church, to pour out his soul in\nthe presence of the Blessed Sacrament, or before the altars or statues\nof our Lady or the Saints, he will come forth strengthened in spirit,\nand having received the gift of counsel in a far higher degree than\nwould ever have been the case had he had recourse to the solace and\ncompany of a wife or family or relations. And this counsel and\nstrength will increase in degree in proportion as he has banished from\nhis life the ordinary sensible consolations to be obtained from human\nsympathy.\n\nHe does not on this account love his family and his friends less; on\nthe contrary, he loves them more, though in a different and more\nmortified manner. The relations between a priest and his family must\nbe essentially different from what they were when he was a layman. His\npleasure in being in their company, the joy of their society, has to\nbe restricted and curtailed; often for long years--as in the case of\nforeign missionaries--he may be cut off from them altogether; but his\ntrue charity towards them, his wish for their highest good, his\nreadiness to sacrifice himself for them are not less but far greater\nthan before, and both he and they have the consolation of knowing the\npower of his prayers to help them.\n\nThe great exemplar of this virtue, St. Aloysius, may be quoted as a\nspecial example. Of him it is written that he even denied himself the\nsensible consolation of his mother's countenance, and his detachment\nfrom all the consolations of sense were such that we can hardly\nrealise. Yet he speaks confidently of his affection for his family and\nfriends. He declared that he offered daily to Almighty God in one hand\nhis relations and worldly friends, in the other his fellow members of\nthe Society of Jesus, and that both were continually in his mind.\n\nIn such a matter as this it is not suggested that we should aim at the\nheight of chastity practised by St. Aloysius. The particular degree of\nreserve alluded to above, however admirable in him--and the fact that\nthe Church records it with approval in the official lessons on his\nfeast is sufficient proof of this--would be in us not only\naffectation, but wholly unsuited to the conditions in which we live.\nNevertheless, we have to imitate the same spirit in our measure and\nour social intercourse with our family must be limited both in degree\nand in character. The very fact of the sensible sympathy being so\nstrong between mother and son, or between brother and sister, is one\nof the reasons--and not the least of them--why the Synods of\nWestminster prohibit a priest's female relatives from living in his\nhouse, without special circumstances to justify it, lest such close\nintercourse might draw the heart away from that higher kind of\nsympathy which we seek from Almighty God in prayer.\n\nWe should in fact be exceedingly foolish if we were to limit our\naspirations to the avoidance of those things in which there might be a\ndanger of leading us into sin. That is indeed the minimum to which we\nare all bound; but there are degrees in this virtue, and we can all of\nus aim at a higher detachment from sensible consolations than that to\nwhich we are bound under sin, and the higher we can put the practice\nof this virtue, the nearer we shall get to Almighty God, and the\ngreater will be the power of our prayers.\n\nFrom consideration of our relations with our own family, we proceed to\nthe question of our attitude to members of the other sex generally and\nthe need of strict limitation and mortification in this matter. In\ndiscussing this question, we shall appeal to the authority of a small\nbrochure, privately printed some forty years ago, by one who can speak\nwith as great authority as any man living or dead, on the practice of\nthe virtue in circumstances of the present day in this country. [4] It\nwill be worth our while to study what he says in considerable detail.\n\nHe begins by quoting in favour of the rules he lays down some widely\ndifferent authorities, such as St. Augustine, Thomas a Kempis, St.\nIgnatius and St. Francis de Sales. These great men lived at different\nepochs, amidst different surroundings, and in different circumstances.\nTheir types of piety differed widely from one another. If, then, we\nfind that they are all agreed in recommending a particular line of\nconduct, a very strong presumption is created in favour of their\nrecommendation.\n\nHe continues:--\n\n\"[Our duty] is indeed all summed up in the one word of the\n_Imitation_, 'Be not familiar with any woman.' This familiarity is the\none thing which according to all is to be avoided. And if we ask what\nprecisely is meant by the word, we may say that at least it means, as\nregards the external conduct of a priest, the avoidance of long or\nfrequent intercourse with women, even by letters; as regards his\nheart, a firm purpose never to seek consolation or recreation in\nfemale society; and, finally, it means that the counsel _nunquam solus\ncum sola_ should be as far as possible the rule of daily life. Of\ncourse this rule is observed so long as he is in the sight of others\nor is easily visible. Priests are bound by vow to celibacy, and as a\nconsequence the saints quoted above regard them as bound in prudence\nto treat with women on business only, and never to look on them as\ncompanions or intimate friends.\"\n\nA little further on he anticipates possible objections based on the\ncondition of modern society, especially in this country. He writes:--\n\n\"We are compelled to look at the world as it is, and it cannot be\ndenied that in an English-speaking society a priest is expected to do\nmuch more than administer the sacraments and preach or catechise.\nThere is always a great deal of mental as well as bodily misery to be\nmet with. This misery is much increased in the English-speaking world\nby differences in religion, by the circumstances connected with\nconversions to the faith and the persecutions to which these give\noccasion. On the other hand, centuries of persecution have created in\nour Catholic laity generally a larger and deeper confidence than is\nperhaps to be found in other countries. By their very nature women are\ninclined to lean on others. What more natural than that many should\nlook to the priest--their 'director' as they love to call him--as\ntheir one and only guide in all their doubts and troubles? Again, a\npriest has frequently to call in the aid of women in his efforts to\nreclaim souls from sin. It will often happen that he can reach the\nignorant and sinful only through the co-operation of nuns or good\nwomen living in the world, or of both. Hence innumerable occasions of\ntreating with women will arise to which he is compelled by his very\nduty as a priest.\n\n\"All this is true. Still there is nothing in these modern\ncircumstances to justify a departure from the reserve inculcated by\nthe saints. Nay, these circumstances only the more strongly confirm\nthe saying of the _Imitation_, 'we should have charity towards all,\nbut familiarity is not expedient.' Charity is universal. Intimacy or\nfamiliarity is necessarily confined to a few. If a priest acts from\ncharity, he will be ready to receive all and at all seasons. But if he\nfollows natural inclination, he will necessarily waste on a few the\ntime and heart that might have been given to many. . . .\n\n\"Still on the plea of the difference of their times from ours, it may\nbe said that the reserve which they recommended and practised has\nbecome impossible for a priest at the present day. It may be alleged\nthat he is indeed bound to avoid sin, and therefore all proximate\noccasions of sin, whether the danger be to himself or to others. But\nhe must be natural in his behaviour towards women no less than towards\nmen; otherwise his ministry will be to a great extent sterile and his\nconfessional will be shunned. And after all, every Christian, it may\nbe said, is bound to avoid sin. Why should a priest be more on his\nguard than an ordinary layman?\n\n\"We have thus two models of behaviour in a priest put before us--the\nreserved and the natural. Is the reserve of the saints possible\nnowadays, and if so, is it desirable? In answering this question let\nus bear in mind that a priest is ordained not only, as the Apostle\nsays, to offer up gifts and sacrifices for sin, but is likewise sent\nto all who are living in ignorance and sin, 'qui condolere possit iis\nqui ignorant et errant.' Hence the main occupation of a priest in\ncharge of souls is to prevent sin by instruction, and to absolve from\nsin in the Sacrament of Penance. In other words, to teach Christian\ndoctrine and to hear Confessions may be said to be the sum of a\npriest's work in dealing with souls. For Baptism and the sacraments of\nthe dying are only other forms of loosing souls from the bonds of sin.\nThe question then is, does reserve with women create any hindrance in\nthis essential work of a priest? Unquestionably not. Protestant\nwriters, indeed, looking at the Church from outside, and not\nunderstanding the real feeling of Catholics, have sometimes supposed\nthat they prefer going to Confession to an easy-going, self-indulgent\npriest, rather than one who leads a mortified, unworldly life. But all\npractical Catholics well know there cannot be a greater mistake.\nPenitents seek indeed one who will be patient and kind. In proportion\nto the weight of sin which they feel, they long for a man of God, who\nin the words of the Apostle already quoted, 'Condolere possit iis qui\nignorant et errant,' and one on whose judgment they can rely. They\nwant one who will treat with them in God's name and for His sake. This\nbeing so, is it not manifest that the paternal reserve of the saints\nis more sure to attract confidence than the familiarity of the natural\nman?\"\n\nA similar idea was no doubt in the mind of Cardinal Manning when he\nwrote that \"The priest who is seldom seen in society is the priest\nwhom men desire most to have beside them when they die.\" By being\n\"seldom in society\" he of course meant mixing in the society of men\nand women as one of themselves. For it is abundantly possible to go\namong mankind and freely mix with them even in social gatherings, in\nthe performance of one's pastoral duty, while at the same time keeping\nall the reserve pleaded for by the writer of the pamphlet and\nobserving the rules of custody of the eyes and of the senses\ninculcated by spiritual writers. In adapting these rules to ourselves,\nit may be of use to consider some of the various classes of females to\nwhom they may apply.\n\nFirst there are young girls who are almost or quite children. We\neasily get familiar with them, call them by their Christian names,\njoin in their play or amusements, and should rightly resent the idea\nof there being anything wrong or even dangerous. Yet too much\nfamiliarity with the young is never very desirable. The author of the\n_Imitation_ specially warns us against it. Their society is pleasant\nand innocent; yet the very simplicity and irresponsibility of youth\ntends to draw us rather to a lower than a higher level. In the case of\na priest among his people however, he has to bear in mind that as time\npasses the child grows into a girl. Familiarity once admitted is not\neasily broken off, though a time conies when it is more than\nundesirable, and finally it becomes a scandal to others and a danger\nto oneself. Sometimes one has heard a priest address a young lady by\nher Christian name, perhaps in a contracted form; which sounds\nstartling; and the explanation is to be sought in the familiarity\nacquired in past years when she was only a child. If a proper reserve\nhad been maintained then, the familiarity would never have reached its\nfinal state.\n\nSecondly, there are good and devout young ladies in the congregation--\nChildren of Mary, perhaps, who are zealous to run their confraternity.\nThey come to the Presbytery to discuss their plans and schemes, and to\norganise the Confraternity devotions. Or they may be regular workers\nin the sacristy, members of the Altar Society, or those who help in\ncollecting money, or in visiting the poor, and such-like. Or they may\nbe penitents, who come to discuss matters of conscience. We must not\nbe thrown off our guard by their being pious. There may be danger to\nus, or even in their weakness, to them, in that which at first sight\nlooks so proper and desirable. Means must be found to give them all\nthe spiritual help they want, while avoiding all kind of familiarity.\n\nThirdly, going to the other extreme, there are the evil-minded and\ndesigning, who would love nothing better than the ruin of the priest.\nTheir power is great, their patience greater, and their cleverness\nprevents them from being fathomed. The only method to meet them is to\nkeep them at a distance from the beginning. Once they have acquired\ninfluence over one, they will be more than difficult to shake off.\n\nAfter this we may mention various categories, the officious who wish\nto know everything, the priest's own business as well as theirs; the\nidle who want to gossip, to take offence at trifles and then make it\nup, and in so doing to acquire influence; then the class of elderly\nladies who have no sinister design, but love all kinds of\necclesiastical gossip to fill their time and thoughts; then those with\nwhom the priest comes into daily official contact, such as the\nschoolmistress or housekeeper; and, lastly, one who may belong to\nseveral of the above categories, who is truly motherly, and taking\npity on a priest's loneliness, wants to tend him in his wants; to keep\nsuch a one with proper reserve requires no small determination.\n\nFor all these classes of females, the same law holds good--charity and\nhelpfulness to all, familiarity with none. There can be no danger\nwithout previous familiarity, and though in some cases familiarity can\nexist without danger, there are other reasons which have been given\nwhy it should be shunned. Once more we can quote the same writer:--\n\n\"The fear for one's chastity is only one of the reasons, and often not\nthe most important, for this priestly reserve, as indeed is clear from\nthe lives of the saints themselves. Had St. Augustine, or St. Francis\nof Sales, for example, any practical reason to fear for themselves, or\nwould there have been any danger of scandal to others in their case\nfrom a more free and easy way of treating with women from that which\nthey adopted? Yet we have seen the rule which they laid down for\nthemselves.\"\n\nAlas, however, that we cannot conclude this conference without\nalluding to actual danger. The same writer proceeds:--\n\n\"In truth now, as at all times, the main difficulty lies in the human\nheart itself and not in external circumstances. It will appear at\ntimes as if a departure from such reserved behaviour is not only\njustifiable but absolutely necessary for the well-being of a\nparticular soul. In this matter the danger lies precisely in\nexceptional cases in which the priest is liable to be deceived by the\nappearance of good. He may easily forget that in all such cases a\ntriple danger is involved--a danger for himself, a danger for the soul\nwith which he is dealing, and a danger of scandal in the world that is\nalways looking on. And these dangers are so distinct that even if\nassured of his own personal safety, he is not thereby secure as to the\nsoul of the penitent, or even if both feel blameless in their own\nhearts, disedification may be occasioned in others.\"\n\nFollowing out the danger to the priest himself, the next stage may\neasily be his sensible appreciation of the devotion of his penitent or\nfriend, and her kindness to him. Gradually the care and attention she\nshows him undermines the sternness of his vocation. He loses his sense\nof spirituality and the saviour of his priesthood languishes. His mass\nis no longer to him what it once was; his church has ceased to be the\nabode of peace and prayer; his power of seeking consolation in the\nTabernacle is gone; his pastoral work has become irksome to him; he\nalmost regrets the day when he bound himself to celibacy. What wonder\nif he at length casts off his priesthood, and \"retires\" or disappears,\nwhether or not it be known to his people what the state of affairs\nreally is?\n\nSuch a falling away is, alas, possible even without, or at least\nindependently of, any criminal intercourse. Instances occur to mind\nwhen such has happened to a priest at an age when one would have\nthought the danger from violence of passion was almost over. His lack\nof appreciation of the positive virtue of celibacy paved the way, and\nhis giving up his priesthood followed. But for all of us there is the\nfatal possibility of a more complete fall and spiritual ruin in its\nfullest sense. Of this, however, we may rest assured that when a final\nfall takes place and one of our brethren abandons his priesthood, it\nis not the result of an isolated action or a first fall. Judas\nreceived many warnings and calls to repentance before our Lord\naddressed to him those last sad words, \"What thou dost do quickly\"--as\nthough to say, get it over and done with. When a priest first goes\nwrong, we may be sure that he receives many a similar call to\nrepentance. And he has the sacrament of Penance within his grasp, to\nhelp him to recover his stability, which, thank God, often bears\nfruit. But the time may come when warnings neglected, graces set at\nnought, occasions of sin not avoided, gradually do their work and\nshipwreck ensues, final and in a sense almost irrevocable. In such\ncase at least we can bear in mind that it never came within the bounds\nof possibility until such rules and aspirations as we have been\npleading for were set aside. One cannot fall over a precipice until\none first goes near the edge.\n\nThere is no sorrow in a priest's life to compare with the fall of a\nbrother priest. In such a case we pray indeed that He who is all\nmercy, who gave him his first call, will rescue him whom He loves; and\nany act of ours which will help towards such rescue we shall esteem as\nthe greatest of acts of charity. But if we have to face this sorrow,\nlet us also draw our own lesson. \"He who thinketh himself to stand,\nlet him take heed lest he fall.\" Let it be a stimulus to us to renew\nour resolutions, to rise higher in the scale of celibacy, to realise\nits sacredness and the dignity which it gives to our lives. \"How\nbeautiful is the chaste generation with glory: because it is known\nboth to God and to men . . . it triumpheth for ever, winning the\nreward of undefiled conflicts.\" [5]\n\nAnd if the dangers we have to meet are great, our trust in God's help\nshould be greater. Let us end with one more quotation from the\nbrochure:--\n\n\"Taking then all circumstances into account, it is clear that the\npreservation of perfect purity of heart in a priest is far above the\npower of unaided nature. It behoves us therefore to consider what\nmeans must be used for attaining this end. Our Blessed Lord's words to\nthe Apostles, 'Vigilate et orate ne intretis in tentationem' apply to\nthis case in their fullest sense. All external precautions will be\ninsufficient without prayer, and prayer without such precautions will\nbe like calling on God to work a miracle. Above all things, therefore,\na priest must start with the conviction that this work is\nsupernatural, and that he needs constant light and aid from God not\nonly to save souls, but likewise to keep himself from sinking in his\nefforts to save others from destruction.\"\n\n[1] 1 Cor. vii. 32, 33.\n\n[2] 1 Cor. vii. 38.\n\n[3] St. Luke i. 25.\n\n[4] After this lapse of time, there seems no reason to conceal the\nname of the writer, who was the Rev. Robert Whitty, S.J. He was in\nmany respects a remarkable man. Educated chiefly in Ireland, he\nfinished his course at St. Edmund's College, where he remained some\nyears as a Professor; then at a comparatively early age he became\nCardinal Wiseman's Vicar-General, which post he held during the\nexciting times of the so-called Papal Aggression in 1850. A few years\nlater he joined the Society of Jesus, in which he afterwards became\nProvincial, and then English Consulter to the General. Certainly no\nman has a better right than he to speak on the subject before us.\n\n[5] Wisdom iv. i, 2.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE V\n\nOBEDIENCE\n\nTHERE is no more solemn moment in the whole Ordination Service than\nwhen the newly ordained priest kneels before his Bishop, who, taking\nhis hands between his own, asks him the question, \"Promittis mihi et\nsuccessoribus meis reverentiam et obedientiam?\" and on receiving the\nrequisite promise, kisses him on the cheek, saying the words, \"Pax\nDomini sit semper tecum.\"\n\nThe words \"reverentiam et obedientiam\" may perhaps be freely rendered\nas \"a loyal obedience,\" and the solemnity of the surroundings when the\npromise is made should not only serve to impress it, on the mind and\nmemory, but is also an indication of the importance which the Church\nattaches to that virtue in the future life of the priest.\n\nThe virtue of obedience is one which we are accustomed to read about\nas the foundation of the religious life, and it has been practised in\na high degree in the various religious orders and congregations. We\nhave often heard of special instances to illustrate this. A Jesuit\nProvincial receives a letter one morning informing him that he is to\nrelinquish his office, and to devote himself to another work, of an\naltogether humble description, and immediately he prepares to leave\nfor his new sphere of labour at the earliest possible moment. A\nFranciscan missionary is commanded to leave one centre of work, and to\nproceed to another, perhaps a thousand miles away, and before the day\nis out, he has started on his journey. These, indeed, are special\ninstances of an extreme nature; but the general type is common to all\nreligious.\n\nMoreover, obedience to command is carried into all the details of their\ndaily lives. The bell summons them to the various duties of the day, and\nthey aim at instant obedience, so that a perfect religious will\nimmediately leave off anything he is saying or writing in order to give\na willing and punctual compliance. The story is often quoted of the\nCarthusians, who speak only once a week, leaving off in the middle of a\nsentence at the sound of the bell to resume the thread in a week's time.\n\nAgain, no work is undertaken by them without the direct command of their\nsuperior, but whatever he directs has to be done at once, and to the\nbest of their power, even though they may not see the reason of his\ncommand, or may even in their own mind think it unwise. In the more\nperfect stages of obedience they are called upon to submit their\njudgment and opinions to those of the superior. It is no wonder that a\nstrict novitiate is enjoined to train them to such obedience as this.\n\nIn reading these descriptions, however, there seems to be in the case of\na secular priest some unreality. He will never be called upon to\npractise obedience of this kind. If his Bishop moves him from one\nmission to another, he will not usually do so in this sudden manner. If\nthe priest has reached a certain age or standing, his Bishop will\nconsult his feelings before appointing him to any new work, to ascertain\nwhether it is such that he thinks he can do, or to see whether he has\nany great objection to it. In a secular priest's daily life he is not\ncalled to his various duties by the sound of the bell at all in the same\nway as a religious. He is expected to be punctual when he has to perform\npastoral duties, and his day is usually mapped out by necessary\nlimitations caused by his work--sometimes regular, often most irregular\nand unforeseen,--but that is all. He is in no case expected to break off\nsuddenly at the sound of a bell in the manner described.\n\nThen again, religious obedience is often described as a \"passive\nvirtue.\" According to Rodriguez, [1] a religious who practises it in\nperfection makes himself like a dead body, which has no movement of its\nown, but is taken from place to place by the living. Surely nothing can\nbe more unlike than this to the condition of a secular priest, who has\nto be all activity and energy. He has to use his own judgment in\neverything, and only rarely receives any definite command or guidance\nfrom his Bishop or Superior.\n\nWhat then? Does a secular priest not have to practise this virtue? or is\nhis obedience at least on a lower level than that of a religious? This\nis surely a pertinent question and calls for a careful answer.\n\nA little consideration will show us that the obedience of a secular\npriest differs from that of a religious not in degree but in kind, and\nthat even if we grant that for the perfection of the virtue we may have\nto look to the religious state, the obedience practised by a secular may\nbe, and commonly is, in many respects harder of accomplishment. Let us\nexamine this in detail.\n\nThe obedience of a religious may be compared with that of a private\nsoldier. The command is given, and he has nothing to do but to obey. The\nstrength of an army is dependent upon the unanimity and promptness of\ntheir obedience. The orders are given by the officer in command, in an\nabsolute manner, and he bears all the responsibility: the soldier has no\nsay as to whether the order is wise or unwise; he has only to execute\nit. The work of the typical religious includes much of this principle\nand acquires proportionate strength. The superior views the situation,\nand, aided by the advice of whatever form of consultation his particular\nrule provides, he determines what is to be done. He communicates his\ndecision to whom it may concern, and they have at once to receive the\ncommands and execute them.\n\nThe obedience of a secular priest, on the other hand, is more like that\nof an inferior officer, who while he is leading others, is also in\ncontact with one in supreme command, helping him, advising him, and\nsharing in part his responsibilities. One of the earliest experiences of\na priest when he first goes on the mission is to find the power and\ninfluence which he exerts over his people. This power he is free to use\nwith little restriction. He may use it in subservience to his rector--if\nhe is a curate--or to his Bishop, to help on their work, to make the\npeople loyal towards them, and to endeavour that everything shall\nproceed in harmony with their wishes and plans; or he may criticise\ntheir ideas, speak and act against them, and take refuge in self-defence\non his \"rights\" and the position he occupies. Undoubtedly there will be\nrules and regulations laid down by his superiors which will grate on him\nand of which he may at least profess not to see the use. When young, he\nmay be ready to find fault with the work to which he is appointed, and\nbe discontented; and when he grows into years, he may get the impression\nthat he is not appreciated, that others are unjustly preferred before\nhim, and so forth. To put it on its lowest ground, a priest of this kind\nis a continual trouble to his Bishop, and a source not of strength but\nof weakness.\n\nNow the remedy for this evil frame of mind is by no means to become\npassive, or to resemble a dead body which is moved about by others. He\nis called upon to do something more difficult to human nature--to act\npositively in loyal subservience to his superior. Such obedience is less\ntangible than that of a religious, and in that proportion it is harder.\n[2] It involves a whole spirit of loyalty, and the very vagueness of its\napplication makes it harder. We are not brought to book, so to say, by\nthe advantage of a definite command, and yet with all our outward\nliberty, we are called upon to regulate our whole life on submission and\nobedience. Now if there is a course of action which goes against our\ntaste and judgment, it is comparatively easy to overcome our reluctance\nand to perform outwardly what we are told to do; but when we have no\ndefinite command given, and are simply called upon of our own free will\nto act positively to forward some particular course of action, this is\noften far harder.\n\nYet this is what a secular priest is continually called upon to do. His\nrector runs the parish on lines which he considers old-fashioned and out\nof date; he seems to discourage new works which the needs of the day\nseem to call for. There may be some truth underlying these criticisms,\nthough probably there is much to be urged on the other side. However\nthis may be, a priest in the flower of his youth and activity can do\nmuch to direct the course of public feeling among the parishioners. He\ncan either defend his rector to the best of his ability, explain that\nthere may be many circumstances, important factors of the case, which\nare not publicly known; and try and carry things on in accordance with\nthe rector's ideas and schemes; or he can fan the discontent by joining\nin the criticism, with alas! too great effect, for discontent easily\nspreads and develops. Needless to say, the priest with the spirit of\nobedience adopts the former course; the one without such spirit the\nlatter. But in neither case is he or ought he to be in a passive state;\nhe has to be all life and action.\n\nIn like manner, when a Bishop wishes to change the work of a priest, and\noffers him a new mission, undoubtedly one who makes difficulties about\naccepting this or that place, or any that does not fit in with his\ntastes and requirements, is not showing the spirit of obedience; and one\nwho holds himself passive and ready to undertake whatever his Bishop\nsuggests is doing better. Nevertheless, there may be a better stage\nstill and a more obedient one, which is to discuss the matter with his\nBishop and give him the advice he seeks. For one of the most important\nfactors in helping him to make up his mind is to know what his priests\nthink they are qualified to undertake. If the priest remains passive,\nall the onus of deciding is thrown on the Bishop; and though this is far\nbetter than opposing him or raising difficulties, it is not the most\nperfect course. But, granted that he has talked it over in the manner\nindicated, should the Bishop decide not in accordance with his wishes--\nwhich will frequently occur, in view of the many and complicated needs\nof the diocese--then is the time for the obedient priest to accept his\nBishop's decision as the voice of God, and to set himself to the work\nindicated however distasteful it may be to himself. The ruling idea in\nhis mind should ever be, how he can be of the greatest service to his\nBishop and help to lighten his heavy burden. It is difficult enough to\ngovern wisely at any time: it becomes ten times harder when it is a case\nof governing unwilling subjects. An obedient priest will strive to make\nit not harder but easier.\n\nWe can perhaps contrast our obedience with that in the army. There\ndiscipline is carried to a high pitch, as is necessary for efficiency,\nbut interior obedience there is none. Most soldiers seem to spend the\ngreater part of their time in finding fault, sometimes in strong\nlanguage, with the orders of their commanders. There are indeed means of\nenforcing obedience and the commands have to be obeyed: but the thought\nof rendering the commander's task easier does not enter in. In the case\nof priestly obedience, no such material sanction exists, or at least it\nplays a very secondary part. The whole relation between him who commands\nand the subject who obeys is on a spiritual and sacred footing, and\nenforced almost entirely by such considerations--for the punishments at\na Bishop's disposal, such as censures or the like, are very rarely\navailable, and, even if available, only used when other motives fail.\nHence the practice of obedience becomes a positive virtue.\n\nIf we wish to find out whether we ourselves are practising the proper\nspirit, we can do so by watching an unguarded and spontaneous\nconversation, for \"out of the abundance of the heart the mouth\nspeaketh.\" [3] If we find ourselves instinctively talking against those\nabove us, it is a sure sign that we are not obedient men; if, on the\nother hand, we are truly obedient in mind, this will show itself by the\nwhole turn of our talk about our superiors. It is hardly too much to say\nthat it is this spirit of obedience which alone will make a priest's\nlife happy, or even bearable.\n\nWe may ask, then, are there no circumstances in which we are justified\nin resisting authority without prejudice to our obedience? Is a truly\nobedient priest precluded from taking part in any action which has for\nits object the resistance of episcopal or other rulers? Surely the\nnegative answer is indicated by the whole practice of the Church and of\nCanon Law which gives and regulates the right of appeal in certain\ncases. And we all know of instances in which saints have resisted\nauthority. Cannot we safely follow their example?\n\nThe answer in the first place is that they were saints. A person who has\nsuch perfect control over his lower nature may venture on a course which\nto us would be dangerous. And indeed resistance to authority is always\ndangerous. The author of the _Imitation_ warns us how many people are\nmoved with passion and mistake it for zeal. So long as we are obeying,\nwe are on safe ground: there is no motive possible to us but that of\nobedience. Once change our condition to one of resistance, and there may\nbe hundreds of motives such as injured pride, self-will, want of charity\nto our superiors, and the like which may be influencing us to a far\ngreater extent than we know.\n\nIf, then, we think it necessary at any time to resist our superiors, our\nfirst care should be to test ourselves, to see whether we are in truth\nactuated by unworthy motives. There are two means ready to hand. One is\nprayer, earnest and long continued; the other is prudent advice. If we\ngo to a disinterested party, whether a priest or a Bishop--for laymen\nwill not be in a position to understand the circumstances--the adviser\nwill be better able to judge of the position than we are, from the very\nfact that he is disinterested. Then he will realise better than we do\nthat there may be circumstances unknown to us, on which our superior has\nbased his action, and in many cases charity demands that we should\nbelieve such circumstances to exist until the contrary is proved. Then\nlet us beware of the plea which is so often put forward by the priest\nwho is by nature disobedient, that he is not contending for himself--so\nfar as he is concerned he would willingly put up with the injustice--but\nthat it is his duty to defend a principle for the sake of the rights of\nother priests similarly situated. In most cases this is in truth a thin\ncovering of self-will. His first statement is indeed most cogent: it\n_is_ oftentimes far better to put up with supposed injustice, which\nafter all may be _only_ supposed; and a really obedient man will fall\nback on that whenever he possibly can. It is only when he is advised by\na competent authority that he ought to act, that he will adopt a\nposition so distasteful to him.\n\nGranted, however, that a priest is advised that he ought not to let\nmatters rest as they are, let him act with confidence and all charity.\nHis first step will of course be to see his Bishop and talk the matter\nout. This stage, indeed is fairly often reached. Cardinal Vaughan quotes\na great authority of his day on obedience, speaking to him as follows:--\n\n\"In his administrative capacity, a Bishop may err in judgment, he may be\nnarrow, inconsiderate and at fault. This may be a trial to a priest; but\nhis duty is perfectly clear. He should say, 'God can appoint such a one\nto be my superior, and the means of my sanctification. He stands to me\nin the place of God; I must obey.'\"\n\nNevertheless, he continues:--\n\n\"The priest in such a case may legitimately make respectful\nrepresentations to his Bishop. It may be his duty to make such\nrepresentations. Let him do this once, but let him beware of morally\nforcing the Bishop by his importunities.\" [4]\n\nIf these representations are made in a proper spirit, and with due\nsubmission, they ought not to form an act of hostility: on the contrary,\nthey may in fact be the highest form of obedience, for the priest in\nthis manner may put before his Bishop facts of which he was unaware, or\nconsiderations which had not occurred to him. In the great majority of\ncases an understanding may be arrived at in this manner.\n\nIn the few instances in which the Bishop does not modify his action and\nthe priest remains of the same opinion, it may be necessary to carry the\nmatter further. If so, the spirit of charity becomes doubly needful. No\nword of \"tyranny\" or \"injustice\" or \"ill-temper\" applied to his superior\nshould escape him, and a favourable interpretation should always be\ngiven to his superior's actions. Let the appellant priest fortify\nhimself continually with prayer, so as to obtain the gift of counsel,\nand let this be joined to a special intercession on behalf of the\nsuperior against whom he is acting. These are ordinary means for ensuing\nhis purity of intention; and if these means alone are taken, we may be\nconfident as to the result. For whatever the final verdict may be, if we\nhave taken the requisite precautions, it will be a victory, for God's\nwill is done. When the late Cardinal Vaughan, then Bishop of Salford,\nhad his long dispute with the Jesuits in Rome, when the letter came to\nhim announcing the result, before he opened it, while still ignorant of\nits contents, he went to the tomb of St. Peter to return thanks.\n\nAlas, that this spirit is so often wanting in the appeals of our clergy.\nAll those who are acquainted with the Holy See will bear witness to the\nreadiness to hear the appeal of the weak against the strong, and all\nsuch appeals have sympathetic consideration. The fact that the majority\nof them go in favour of the Bishops is an unfortunate testimony to the\nfrequent insufficiency of the grounds of appeal, and indicates a want of\nthe spirit of obedience.\n\nSuch, however, is not always the case, and one can point to instances in\nwhich the appeal has been conscientiously made, even though it proved\nunsuccessful, and some also in which the verdict has been in favour of\nthe priest and against his superior. In such rare cases, it is hardly\nnecessary to add there must be no note of triumph or of\nself-congratulation. A disagreeable duty has been done, and properly\naccomplished, and we go back ready to resume our work for God and souls.\n\nBut it is not necessary to dwell on this eventuality, considering how\nexceedingly rare is its occurrence. Let us end as we began by alluding\nto the words at our Ordination:--\n\n\"While the sacred body and blood of Christ are still within him, he\ngives his newly consecrated hands into the hands of the Bishop, who\nsays: 'Promittis mihi et successoribus meis reverentiam et obedientiam?'\nTo which he replies 'Promitto.' And as the personal fruit of obedience\nis peace of conscience and the peace of God, the bishop adds, 'Pax\nDomini sit semper tecum.'\n\n\"The formal acceptance by the Church of the solemn promise of obedience\nmade by the priest contains an assurance and a pledge full of\nencouragement and consolation to the priest himself.\n\n\"He is an officer in the army of Christ: he has promised loyalty and\nobedience. All the works of his ministry undertaken in obedience to his\nBishop, or in conformity with the discipline and canons of the service\nare henceforth to be accounted not as private and particular works, but\nas works belonging to the Christian ministry. They are of a higher\norder; they are the works of Christ Himself, and deserve a special\nreward.\" [5]\n\n\n[1] _Fifth Treatise_, chapter vi.\n\n[2] It is not intended to deny that there are cases in which a\nreligious has to use initiative or judgment when under orders: but it\ncan hardly be questioned that the other is the ordinary course of\nthings; and that while a secular priest has to use his judgment and\ninitiative far more, he has proportionately less guidance in the way of\ncommand. He has to depend on his own judgment; yet all the time his\ndecisions must be actuated by submission and obedience.\n\n[3] St. Matt. xii. 34.\n\n[4] _The Young Priest_, p. 116.\n\n[5] Cardinal Vaughan, _The Young Priest_, p. 119.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX ON OBEDIENCE AT THE SEMINARY\n\nIT would seem at first sight an anomaly that if the obedience practised\nby a secular priest is so different from that of a religious, in the\ntime of preparation at the Seminary the life is modelled on that of a\nreligious congregation; for, although it is no doubt easy compared with\nthat of any religious Order, it is, nevertheless, of much the same\ncharacter, and the occasions of practising obedience in a Seminary are\nvery similar to those in a monastery. There are fixed hours for rising,\nfor prayers and mass, for study, recreation and meals, and there are\ntimes of silence--as after night prayers, or before the morning\nmeditation. The students are, in fact, expected continually to obey the\nbell as it calls them from one duty to another in much the same way as a\nreligious does. Why, it may be asked, if their future obedience and\nfuture life are to be so different from that of a religious are they\nasked to go through a daily routine at the Seminary which seems to be\nbased on theirs, or at least to be similar to it?\n\nThis is a pertinent and natural question; but the answer is simple. The\nessential difference is that one is permanent and the other temporary. A\nSeminarist is called upon to exercise the easier forms of obedience, to\ntrain him for the harder. He leads a regular daily life, in obedience to\nauthority made known to us by definite commands and by fixed rules, in\norder that he may acquire a habit of submission which may give him his\ntone when he shall have gone forth from the Seminary and have no such\ndefinite rules or commands to guide him.\n\nIt is this consideration which gives the true importance to the daily\nobservance of such rules as he has. We sometimes hear the question, \"Is\nit a sin to break a rule?\" Surely this is looking at the question from\nan unworthy standpoint. Theologians say that it is not a sin even for a\nreligious who has taken a special vow of obedience to break a small\npoint of his rule; much less can it be a sin for a Seminarist, who has\ntaken no such vow. But there is a higher way of looking at it than this.\nIt is not a question whether this or that isolated rule binds under sin;\nthe question is rather how the Seminarist's general attitude towards the\nrules is affecting his training, how far the object for which they have\nbeen imposed upon him is attained, or how far impeded, by the spirit in\nwhich he accepts them. The proper spirit should be something of this\nkind. He has come to the Seminary to undergo a definite training, which\nis administered by those set over him, through the instrumentality of\nthe rules. It is the traditional Catholic training, which has formed\nholy priests and even saints. All the incidents of his daily life are\npart and parcel of it. To neglect or put aside any of them deliberately\nis to put aside part of that training, with its corresponding means of\nsanctification, both natural and supernatural. To put it on its lowest\ngrounds, he cannot afford to lose it.\n\nIndeed, one would hope that a well-behaved Seminarist would never\ndeliberately and of set purpose break rules. Small failings through\nthoughtlessness, or in the weakness of the moment, are indeed excusable;\nbut that is essentially different from open and premeditated breaches of\ndiscipline. A Seminarist who frequently fails to come down in the\nmorning, or who evades his work when he conveniently can, who is slack\nand unpunctual at his various duties, is misusing his time and omitting\nthat which the Church and his Bishop reasonably expect him to do. He may\nbe clever enough to conceal his idleness; he may even after an ill-spent\nterm make up time and pass his examinations by cramming up at the end--\nfor which some have a great facility; but he will never make up the\ntraining he has lost, nor will he obtain the graces which would have\nbeen his had he used the means which God gave him to obtain them.\n\nMoreover, the spirit of obedience or disobedience in community life is\nvery catching. One grumbler will make many. The Seminarist owes a duty\nto the institution which has done and is doing so much for him, to set\nup a high ideal for himself which will spread itself to others and\naffect the whole life led within the walls of the Seminary. It is a duty\nwhich he owes to his Bishop and likewise to his fellow students.\n\nThis whole question is so vital to the life of the Seminary that we may\nbe excused for appealing to high authority in support of what has been\nsaid. In his _Lex Levitarum_, the late Bishop Hedley discusses it at\nsome length, and all that he says will repay careful reading. His first\nconclusion is that although single rules can in single cases be broken\nwithout sin, \"It is sinful and a sin against obedience to violate them\nin grave matters, or with a persistence which causes grave results in\nthe house. But,\" he continues, \"the aspirant to the holy priesthood\nshould take a higher view of the rules of his Seminary. They are,\nindeed, not fetters to bind his liberty, but steps or occasions to\ndeepen his purity of heart, and his love of his heavenly Father. In\nthemselves they are wise and useful, tending to the well-being of each\nindividual. Even therefore if they carried no obligation, it would be\nthe part of a true servant of God to observe them religiously. Obedience\nis the most essential virtue of a heart which aspires to imitate Jesus\nChrist; a real, interior obedience, not merely external, but grounded\nupon general humility of heart. It is obedience which most effectively\nclothes the spirit with the mind and temper of Christ. It is obedience\nwhich has the promise of victory over passion, and of success in the\nministry of souls. To promote and to deepen in the character the spirit\nof obedience is certainly one of the principal purposes of the training\nof a priest. . . . A life of rule which is accepted and loved is the\nvery best preparation for the priesthood because it is the very best\ndiscipline of a truly Christ-like mind, and the most effective\ninstrument for acquiring perfection.\" [1]\n\n\n[1] Lex Levitarum, p. 67.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE VI\n\nTHE RELIGIOUS EXERCISES OF THE PRIEST\n\nTHERE is a sense in which it may be said that the religious exercises of\na secular priest are of more importance than those of a religious; for\nhe has no definite rule to impose most of them upon him, while from the\nnature of his life they often have to give way before the pressure of\nwork. It has been said that the sanctification of a religious is\neffected primarily by his religious exercises, and secondarily by his\nwork; but that of a secular is effected primarily by his work and only\nsecondarily by his religious exercises. Of course in those exact words\nwe cannot accept the statement: it is something of a paradox; but a\nparadox usually covers a real truth, and in this case the truth is that\nthere is always a danger of a secular priest failing to realise the\nnecessity for such regular exercises from the fact of their having so\noften to be postponed or curtailed or even omitted in favour of works of\ncharity, and from having no regular binding rule for any except the\nrecitation of the Divine Office. There may indeed be individual days\nwhen a priest dispenses himself from all else: but as a regular\npractice, he well knows that other exercises are an absolute necessity\nif he is to lead a priestly life.\n\nIn the new Codex of Canon Law, for the first time we find an enumeration\nof the exercises expected of a priest [1]--not indeed binding under sin,\nbut the norm put before us by the Church--_ratione sacerdotii_. They\ninclude, besides his mass and Office, daily Meditation, Rosary, visit to\nthe Blessed Sacrament, and Examination of Conscience, and a Retreat at\nleast every third year. It may be well to take these in order and say a\nfew words about each.\n\n_Mass_\n\nThere is no need to emphasise the power and consolation to a priest of\nhis daily mass. It is the direct object of his priesthood and the one\nwhich he is least likely to allow to pass out of his mind. In view of\nhis being a priest, he is bound to offer the Holy Sacrifice on Sundays\nand on the chief feasts of the year [2]--Christmas, Easter, etc. In\npractice in this country, he is usually bound, _ratione officii_, to\ncelebrate much more often: in many cases daily mass is his duty; in\nalmost all, several times a week is his minimum. One result of this is a\ntendency to look on his mass as a duty for the sake of the people who\nhear it and to lose sight in some degree of its effect on himself. In\ndays gone by when daily mass was not usual, we have stories told of how\na travelling priest or a French _emigre_ might come in and ask to say\nmass, and the priest who was actually vesting for the parish mass, would\nlet the visiting priest say it, and himself go to breakfast. Happily,\nhowever, this state of things has passed away. At the present day the\nvast majority of the clergy are only too pleased to celebrate daily.\nThey may indeed like to omit a morning occasionally, while on a holiday:\npossibly they are sometimes over free in giving themselves a rest out of\nholiday time: but this is the exception. Even the practice recommended\nby St. Alphonsus of omitting one day in every week out of reverence, now\nseems to be a thing of the past: the movement of Pius X in favour of\nfrequent or daily communion seems to have swept away the last trace of\nit. At any rate, most priests of necessity, and others by preference,\nusually celebrate daily, and no reform is called for in this respect.\n\nWhen, however, we come to the circumstances of celebration, we find a\ngood deal calling for attention. There are indeed many priests who begin\nthe day with mental prayer, and say the Preparation for mass, so that\nwhen the time comes they are ready to celebrate with devotion: but there\nare many who do not act so well. Dr. Grant, the first Bishop of\nSouthwark, used to lament the number of priests who came straight from\ntheir bedrooms to the altar, and he would quote this as one of the\ngreatest obstacles to the spread of Catholicity in this country. It is\nmanifest that such a practice is fatal to the devout celebration of the\nHoly Mysteries. The new Codex of Canon Law has drawn special attention\nto this by enacting that a priest should make a proper preparation and\nthanksgiving as of obligation. [3]\n\nYet there are often practical difficulties about a satisfactory reform\nin this matter. Those who say mass at a convent, for example, are in\nnearly every case expected at an early hour, and on arrival are usually\nshown into the sacristy as a matter of course; to get up sufficiently\nsoon to have time to spare needs considerable stimulus. A difficulty of\nthe opposite kind is created when a priest has to say a late mass,\nwhether on a weekday or a Sunday. He naturally makes it the occasion of\na long rest, and too often prolongs it to the very last minute, arriving\nin the sacristy only just in time to vest. If it is a Sunday, and he is\nduplicating, he makes that an excuse for sparing himself, so that he may\nnot be over fatigued.\n\nNeither of these difficulties are insuperable; but in practice they\ncommonly hold the field. Without any drastic remedies, however, it is\nsometimes possible to suggest at least a partial way out of the\ndifficulty. A priest who has to walk some distance to the convent, for\nexample, may well keep up a state of recollection during his journey,\nand when he knows the liturgical prayers by heart, he can usually say\nthem on the way. But after all, the proper remedy is to rise a little\nearlier, so as to make his preparation either in the sacristy or even on\na _prie-Dieu_ in the convent chapel, [4] which the nuns will very\nwillingly provide if asked. And in this case he need not limit himself\nto the liturgical \"Preparation.\" Still more easily can he, if only he\nadverts to the necessity, come down for a late mass some little time\nbefore he has to vest. And for the ordinary parish masses he can do the\nsame, if only he is sufficiently serious-minded to do it; and he will be\nwell rewarded in the additional fervour which he will bring to his mass.\n\nNor should we omit an allusion to the negative preparation, which\nconsists in avoiding all kinds of distraction before mass. To refrain\nfrom reading one's letters, even before a very late mass, is a practice\nthe very definiteness of which makes it easy to perform. In similar way\nevery kind of arrangement for the work of the day, or any unnecessary\nspeaking or intercourse with others should be strictly avoided.\n\nWith respect to thanksgiving after mass, there is less to be said, as\nthe temptation to omit or curtail it is less. It is regularly looked for\nand expected wherever the priest goes. The importance of a good\nthanksgiving, to gather up the fruit of the mass, can hardly be\noverestimated. Hence when a priest has to take Communion to the sick--\nwhich he so often does after mass--it does not seem much to ask that he\nshould allow at least a few minutes to pass for his direct thanksgiving:\nafter which he can well continue and complete it as he carries his Lord\nthrough the streets to the house of the sick man. It is not too much to\nsay that his fervour as a priest will be the reflection of that of his\ndaily mass, and the manner in which he says mass will depend on his\npreparation and thanksgiving.\n\nWith respect to the intention for which mass is offered, in a populous\nmission that almost settles itself, as our parishioners have the first\nright to our masses, within reasonable limits. But a priest would do\nwell to keep a certain number at his own disposal, in order to foster\nthe spirit of his piety. And every priest should from time to time say\nmass for his people. This is now laid as an obligation on those rectors\nof missions who have by recent legislation become _parochi_, on all\nSundays and holidays, including the suppressed feasts. For others it is\nstill a matter of option; yet one would think that a priest's own\ninterest in his work would suggest to him the propriety of doing so at\nleast occasionally. It sounds strange to hear many priests regret the\nobligation and refuse to comply with it unless it can be shown to be\nabsolutely binding. It would have appeared that if a priest has a proper\nspirit of zeal, the one end of his life would be the sanctification of\nhis people, or those among whom he works. They have few enough prayers\noffered for them: one would have thought that an occasional mass would\nhave been freely offered by the priest as a privilege. Unfortunately the\nquestion of income comes in, and many a priest hesitates between the two\nmotives. Yet even in the masses which his parishioners ask him to say,\nsome have to be without a stipendium, and this ought to be so, to\nprevent the danger of the mercenary spirit over-running his better\ninstincts.\n\nIt remains to say something on the manner of saying mass. There is no\nnecessity to labour the fact that the rubrics ought to be faithfully\nobserved, for they are commonly considered to bind under sin. Yet\nconsistently with observing them it is possible to be either unduly long\nor unduly short. Both are objectionable from different points of view. A\npriest who takes from half an hour to forty minutes will prevent many\nwho could otherwise attend from hearing mass; while one who gets through\nin a quarter of an hour will give no small scandal. The rule sometimes\ngiven of thirty minutes \"from amice to amice\" means about twenty-five\nminutes at the altar, and it is a reasonable allowance. But, after all,\nthe actual time consumed is of less importance than the manner of\ncelebrating. Some people have a rapid utterance; others are quick in\ntheir movements; others again save much time by not dawdling, but\nproceeding from one act direct to the next. Others, however, are by\nnature slow, and inclined to be hesitating in their action. Due\nallowance must be made for difference of temperament in this regard, so\nthat no strict limit can be laid down. Even the well-known rule of St.\nAlphonsus that a priest must occupy at least a quarter of an hour is not\nalways a safe minimum; for it must be remembered that on different days\nmasses vary considerably in length. A short ferial mass without _Gloria_\nor _Credo_, especially if there is no _Imperata_ prayer, or a _Missa\nQuotidiana_ for the Dead, omitting the _Dies Irae_, are instances of\nvery short masses which might take less than twenty minutes. The really\nimportant thing is that mass should be offered by the priest with\ndignity and recollection, as though conscious of the greatness of the\nact, a spirit which will show itself in every movement and gesture, and\nhelp the devotion both of him who celebrates and those who assist.\n\nA word ought to be added about reading the Latin audibly. The late Pope\ntried to reintroduce the practice of the faithful following the\nliturgical prayers, etc. Undoubtedly this is a good method of hearing\nmass, though it had fallen largely into disuse. It can hardly be said\nthat the Pope's wishes have led to any substantial result, and the\nreason is not far to seek. For the tradition of saying mass in an\naudible tone, such that even those near can follow, has almost entirely\ndied out. In the vast majority of instances, the priest reads the Latin\nrapidly, and in a tone of voice that effectually precludes anyone\nhearing him. It seems sometimes as though his special object was to\nprevent anyone from following. Now there are other ways of hearing mass\nwhich do not need attending to the words, such as saying the Rosary,\nreciting Office, or private prayers, or using the prayers in the _Garden\nof the Soul_ or other book. The first of these methods has been\nespecially approved by being actually commanded by ecclesiastical\nauthority for the month of October in every year. Nevertheless, it is\nnot too much to say that those who prefer what many people consider to\nbe the highest way of assisting at mass, have a right to do so, and it\nis the priest's duty to enable himself by practice to read the Latin in\na tone which can be heard at least by those around him. We say\ndeliberately \"by practice,\" for the power to read Latin audibly and\nintelligibly is not so easy as many people seem to think, and requires\nconsiderable trouble to acquire.\n\nThe above of course only applies to a congregational mass: those who\ncelebrate privately at a side altar will naturally speak in a low tone\nof voice, so as not to disturb their neighbours. Even they, however,\nshould be practised in reading Latin, so as to read it intelligibly to\nthemselves, for the liturgical prayers should be a great aid to their\nown devotion. The old habit of saying a black mass on every free day is\nnow almost obsolete; and it has been replaced by the various concessions\nof Pope Pius X with respect to certain days, on which we may either say\nmass _de Tempore_ or _de Sanctis_; and occasionally, as in a vigil in\nAdvent, three different masses are possible. All this helps to the\nappreciation of the liturgy, and should be used by the priest for that\npurpose.\n\n_Mental Prayer_\n\nIt is admitted by all that a priest must be supereminently a man of\nprayer, and that the most important form of prayer, both in obtaining\nwhat we ask for and in its reaction upon ourselves, is Mental Prayer:\nyet, strange to say, of all the priest's duties, that of Mental Prayer\nis the one which is unfortunately too often put in a secondary place, or\neven neglected altogether. The name usually given to it--Meditation--is\nunattractive and misleading. It seems to put before one the idea of\nday-dreaming, and it is possible that all the practice of several years\nat least in the Seminary has not fully dispelled this idea. In point of\nfact, the Meditation is only one part, and that by no means the most\nimportant, of systematic Mental Prayer. It is a means to an end. Mental\nPrayer may be defined simply as prayer without a set form of words, and\nthe Meditation is that which is usually--though not always--necessary to\nset the mind and heart in motion; but the end to be obtained consists of\nthe aspirations of the heart and the acts of the will. It is these which\nmake St. Alphonsus say that it cannot co-exist with sin; [5] and to\npromise that anyone who practises Mental Prayer for half an hour daily\nwill certainly save his soul.\n\nIt is to be hoped that now the Church has laid it down definitely as\npart of a priest's daily duty, greater strictness may be observed by our\nclergy in practising it with regularity. Yet there are undoubted\npractical difficulties in the actual circumstances in which we are\nplaced. The ideal practice is undoubtedly to make half an hour's Mental\nPrayer before saying mass; but in many instances, especially in the case\nof the junior clergy, this is hardly possible. For they frequently have\nto say mass either very early or very late, or sometimes one, sometimes\nthe other; or to go out to say mass at a convent or other centre some\ndistance away, at a comparatively early hour.\n\nThe difficulty is thus the same, only in a more acute form, as that\nwhich has been mentioned in connection with a proper preparation for\nmass. For if it is difficult to find time for a preparation of five or\nten minutes, a priest is not likely to find the longer time necessary\nfor a proper Meditation. If he has to celebrate early at a convent, his\nmass will be followed by breakfast, after which he will return to the\nPresbytery somewhere about eight o'clock. He may then have letters to\nread, and in any case will consume half an hour or more over the daily\npaper, accompanied with his morning cigarette. Often he cannot spare the\ntime after that, as he may have to be in the school at nine. But even if\nhe can, he is not well circumstanced for a Meditation: the distractions\nof the day are on him, and he is in the midst of his work. The\nconclusion forces itself upon us that the morning Meditation, whether\nbefore or after mass, should be made at least before breakfast, or it\nwill not be made at all; and whereas the rector is usually in a position\nto do so without inconvenience, this is not always the case; and whereas\na curate can easily do it if he really wishes on days when he says a\nlate mass, it is not always easy when he says an early one.\n\nUndoubtedly the duty will not be complied with without serious effort,\nand the first stage is a realisation of its practicability as well as\nits necessity. Some priests meet the case by uniting their mental prayer\nwith their thanksgiving after mass. This is always better than nothing;\nand if a priest has the courage to prolong the exercise to twenty or\ntwenty-five minutes, and can guard against interruption from having to\ntake Communion to the sick or other causes, it may be a complete\nsolution of the difficulty.\n\nBut should the obstacles in the morning prove too great, so that\npractically the exercise is frequently curtailed or elbowed out; it may\nbe better to capitulate to circumstances and set apart a time in the\nevening, when it will be done less effectively, and perhaps less\nregularly, as a priest is sometimes out at that time; but it can usually\nbe done. The Canon Law lays down no definite duration for the exercise;\nand though the traditional half-hour assigned by custom ought not to\nprove too long, it is better to occupy half that time or even less, than\nto omit the exercise altogether.\n\nGranted now that twenty minutes or half an hour is to be spent in Mental\nPrayer, the next question is how to spend it. And here the present\nwriter wishes thoroughly to endorse the view put forward by Canon\nKeatinge that it should be spent in the church and nowhere else. The\nwhole passage is worth quoting:--[6]\n\n\"Let me plead for the habit of using the church as our pious lay folk\ndo. The church is not merely the priest's workshop, where he gives the\nsacraments and preaches to others. It is his own home, his sanctuary,\nand he is the appointed guardian of this dwelling-place of God with men.\nHere at least his surroundings will help his prayer, not mar it, and the\nsacramental presence of his God will tend to warm his heart and to lift\nhis first thoughts above the teasing distractions of his daily life.\"\n\nThe alternative of trying to make our Meditation in our room is to\nsurround ourselves with difficulties and distractions of every kind,\nconnected with our daily work. If it be argued that the Jesuits\nthemselves always make their exercises in their rooms, the answer is\nsimply that this is part of a complete and thoroughly worked out system\nof life, and it is no disrespect to them to say that to adopt one detail\nwhen we do not aim at adopting the whole will not lead to a good result.\n\nA minor reason for urging the use of the church is that it gives great\nedification to the lay folk coming to mass to find the priest always\nthere first at his prayers, while it puzzles them to find the church\nempty till the very hour for mass. And if it be urged that the early\ncomers will invade the priest's time and seeing him there, will utilise\nthe spare minutes to go to Confession or the like, the answer is that\nonly the most inconsiderate of his parishioners would think of troubling\nhim at such a time unless there is good reason--that they live at a\ndistance or cannot come at another time; and in the few instances in\nwhich it may occur, the charity of his sacrifice will make up for the\ninterruption of his exercise.\n\nWe may also plead the high authority of St. Alphonsus, [7] that the\nchurch is the best place for meditation, and although he goes on to say\nthat those who cannot go to the church may \"give themselves to prayer in\nany place, at home, in the country, even when walking, even when at\ntheir work,\" he is not speaking primarily of priests, who nearly always\nhave the opportunity of using the church if they want to; nevertheless\nhe describes a practice which may often be useful to a hard-worked\npriest, whether his morning meditation has been omitted or not.\n\nComing now to the method of Meditation, we find some features common to\nall methods. All are agreed that a short preparation should be made\novernight, and the subject matter of the coming exercise be briefly\nreviewed, and that from that time until the Meditation is made, some\nsort of recollection should be observed, corresponding to the \"Magnum\nSilentium\" prescribed in the Seminary. All are agreed also that when the\ntime comes, a short preparatory prayer should be made for light and\nhelp; and at the conclusion an act of thanksgiving. For the body of the\nprayer it is usual to speak of two great systems--the Jesuit and the\nSulpician--but of these two the Jesuit method is far the more\nwidespread. [8] Indeed, the general use of that method is one of the\ngreatest proofs of the large influence exerted by the Society in the\nChurch. It is in many ways specially suited to the restless age in which\nwe live, for it excites and guides our activity throughout: there is no\nperiod of rest. It is so well known that there is no need to describe\nit in detail. At first sight, to a beginner, it appears complicated\nenough. We are told to begin with a prayer for light, and two preludes,\none being a \"Composition of Place,\" the other a petition for certain\ndefinite grace. Then comes the body of the subject, divided into three\npoints; to each point is assigned a Consideration and an Application;\nand, finally, at the end a Colloquy, and an examination of how the\nMeditation has been made. Then as an alternative, we are given a method\nof Contemplation--to examine the Persons, Actions, Words--or Application\nof the Senses--touch, sight, sound, etc. All this to a beginner presents\nthe idea of hopeless complication; Father Faber likens it to the\ncleric's first initiation into the Breviary with its apparent hopeless\nramifications; but in practice the parts fit so well together and follow\nso naturally one on the other that after a short time the idea of\ncomplication to a great extent disappears.\n\nThe Sulpician method is in entire contrast to the above. The subject\nmatter is not divided into points, but viewed as a whole; but the prayer\nitself is divided into three parts, of almost equal duration with each\nother. They are Adoration, Communion, Co-operation; said to correspond\nto the three petitions of the Lord's Prayer, Hallowed be Thy Name; Thy\nKingdom come; Thy will be done.\n\nIn truth, however, there are as many methods of mental prayer as there\nare teachers thereof, for so much depends on the personality of the\nperson who practises it. It seems almost presumptuous to speak of\npractising it without a method, and it opens the door to the danger of\n\"kneeling vacantly and doing nothing, which adds the fault of\nirreverence to that of idleness.\"[9]--a danger almost indicated by the\nvery name Meditation. Still, on the high authority of St. Alphonsus, we\nventure to put forward a plan which is so natural as hardly to be called\na method at all, and which emphasises the quality of spontaneity in our\nintercourse with God which should be one of the great fruits of Mental\nPrayer. Let him speak for himself; the following quotations give the\nessence of his direction:--[10]\n\n\"For meditation, it is best . . . to use some book; pausing when the\nmind finds itself most affected. St. Francis of Sales says that in this\nwe must do as the bees, who will settle on a flower until they have\ndrawn out its honey, and then pass on to another. . . .\n\n\"Here we must observe that the spiritual profit derived from Mental\nPrayer does not consist so much in meditation as in making affections,\npetitions and resolutions: these are the fruits of meditation. And so\nafter reflecting on some eternal maxim, and after God has spoken to the\nheart, we ought ourselves to speak to God with the heart, by making\naffections, or by acts of faith, of thanksgiving, of adoration,\nhumility, and--most of all--of love and of contrition, which is also an\nact of love. For love is that golden band which unites the soul to God.\n. . .\n\n\"It is of great benefit to make petitions again and again, earnestly\nbeseeching God with humility and confidence for His light; for pardon of\nsins, perseverance, a good death, paradise, and, above all, the gift of\nHis holy love. . . .\n\n\"It is necessary in prayer, at least at the end of it, to make some firm\nresolve, not only in general to avoid all deliberate sin however light,\nand to give ourselves entirely to God, but also in particular, as, for\ninstance, to keep ourselves with greater care from some fault into which\nwe have more frequently fallen; or to practise some virtue in a better\nway than before. . . We ought not to cease from prayer until we have\nmade some definite resolution.\"\n\nOne special advantage of the above is that its simplicity makes it\nsuitable for beginners in the art of Mental Prayer; and in times of\ndryness, when devotion does not come easily, it may reduce itself\nultimately to slowly reading a book. Such times are familiar to all of\nus, but they are especially discouraging to a beginner who is without\nexperience to cope with them. Especially a student at college, or even\nat school, may find help in this manner, and a practice which from its\nname sounds unattractive, and the explanation of which has sometimes\nappeared too complicated to be practicable, may in this way be reduced\nto a simple exercise within the reach of all.\n\nThe choice of a book is of course an important feature. To discuss this\nat length, however, would take us beyond our prescribed limits. There\nare good books in plenty, but nearly all of them are based on the Jesuit\nmethod, and difficult to use for such people as prefer some other\nsystem. Of late an inclination has been shown to go back to Bishop\nChalloner--a fact which bears eloquent testimony to the solid worth of\nhis work written a century and a half ago. His meditations are indeed\neach in three points, but they allow more latitude of treatment than\ndoes a strictly Jesuit book.\n\nBut, after all, it is not necessary to have a set meditation book at\nall. Many find all they want in the _Imitation of Christ_. Others use\nthe text of the Gospels--a practice which may be very fruitful to those\nwho are sufficiently familiar with New Testament criticism, so as to be\nable to picture vividly in their own mind the surroundings of the scenes\ndescribed. If these are sufficiently understood, then the words of our\nLord, especially as given in St. John's Gospel, should provide the best\npossible matter for mental prayer.\n\n_Divine Office_\n\nThe daily recitation of the Breviary is the one exercise of the priest\nwhich is not optional, but imposed by precept. The first result of this\nis that he is praying not in his own name, but in that of the Church.\nThe most perfect way of satisfying the precept is to attend Office in\nchoir. At one time this was in a great measure possible; and indeed\nuntil the recent reform of the Breviary under Pope Pius X, it contained\nno reference to private recitation at all: it was assumed throughout\nthat the Office was recited in choir. [11] At the present day, however,\nit is practically only monks who have the opportunity of doing so. Even\non Sundays, the singing of Vespers has become rare in our churches, and\nwhen it does take place, there is usually no priest present except the\nCelebrant. The only alternative left to the secular priest is to recite\nthe Office privately. But it is well for him to bear in mind that he is\none of a large choir of reciters all over the world, who though\nseparated physically, are united in spirit, singing the praises of God\nin the official words of the Church. It would seem that the least a\npriest can be expected to do is to select a proper time and place and\nsuitable surroundings for so solemn a duty.\n\nYet there is perhaps no exercise in his daily life about which he is so\nlax in the manner of its performance. The obligation seems to weigh on\nhim, and he acts as though time given to Office was time wasted, and\ntherefore the great object aimed at was to fit it in when he can do so\nwith the least interruption possible of his daily occupations. Who has\nnot seen a priest saying Office in circumstances of time and place\nill-befitting such a solemn act--as, for example, in a crowded railway\ncarriage or tramcar, or while walking from place to place, or while\nwaiting for an appointment, or for dinner? This method of treating it,\nto say the least, shows a want of appreciation of its solemn character,\nand the sanctifying effect of the duty is properly discharged. Yet these\nsame people will show a minute scrupulosity about many of the small\ndetails of the Office which they conceive to bind under sin. It might\nsurely be better if they devoted less care to the small details and more\nto the general spirit with which the Office is said. It is with a view\nto this general result that the following few suggestions are made.\n\nThe first way to show our respect for the Divine Office is to have a\nfixed time and place for the recitation of the different hours.\nUndoubtedly the best place is the church, and many priests contrive to\nsay the greater part of their Office every day before the Blessed\nSacrament. But this is not always possible, and a certain amount must\nalmost necessarily be said in one's house or grounds. In such case, it\nis important to show our respect for the exercise outwardly, which will\nreact within. Office may be said very devoutly walking about, or sitting\ndown even in an arm-chair; but not lounging, still less lying on a sofa,\nwhich except in case of sickness would involve grave irreverence. And\none ought to have one's priestly dress on: to say Office in hot weather\nwith one's coat or collar off is quite irreverent.\n\nSometimes a priest has to say part of his Office away from home. In such\ncase, the same principles apply. He should say it in surroundings\nsuitable for such an exercise. One cannot say Office properly in a\ncrowd, whether walking or in an omnibus or tramcar. If our compartment\nis fairly empty, and no regular conversation in progress, a railway\ncarriage may be a suitable place: but if it is full of people it\ncertainly is not; and if it occurs that this is the only opportunity we\nhave of completing our obligation, it might in an extreme case be almost\nbetter to let the obligation go than fulfil it so irreverently. Stories\nare told of a priest finishing his Office under a street lamp before\nmidnight, when it might certainly have been better to omit it. A due\nrespect for the Office urges us to say it with devotion or not at all.\nBut in the majority of cases, the question of omitting it does not enter\nin; the alternative is not to omit it, but to have to say it at an\ninconvenient time after returning home. Surely such slight inconvenience\nshould not be put in the balance against the need of reciting it \"digne,\nattente ac devote.\"\n\nWith respect to the time of day, each priest must judge for himself how\nto accommodate it to his daily routine. The liturgical rules bind only\n_sub levi_, and therefore can be set aside for a reasonable cause,\nprovided that the whole Office is finished by the hour of midnight.\nNevertheless, a priest who wishes to show respect for his Office will\nset rubrics aside as rarely as possible. So far as he can, for example,\nhe will aim at saying Prime in the morning and Vespers in the evening.\nHe will not invert the order of the hours if he can help it; he will not\nbreak off at unauthorised points, even though the reason be\ntheologically sufficient: he will rather anticipate any likelihood of\ninterruption and avoid saying his Office at such times. A priest who\nlooks on his Breviary as a convenient duty to put in at odds and ends of\ntime, so that it shall not encroach on any valuable space of time, is\nlaying himself out for possible interruptions and certainly not showing\nthat respect for his Office which is necessary to make it a source of\nblessing to his life.\n\nA word may be added about the privilege of anticipating Matins and Lauds\nthe previous afternoon. It is usual to lay stress on the advantage of\nthis practice, and in the case of a priest on the English mission, the\nadvantage is certainly great. For his daily routine is so uncertain, and\nso often interfered with by unforeseen pressure of work that the\noccasions on which the Office has to be postponed till evening are\nnumerous and continually occurring. On days of special stress it may and\ndoes often occur that when he finishes his work, perhaps late in the\nevening, he has not had time to open his Breviary all day. In such\ncircumstances, he is little fit to begin _Aperi Domine_ and recite the\nwhole, and there is no chance of his doing so with much devotion. If,\nhowever, he has anticipated his Matins and Lauds, he can now say the\nother half of the Office--and the easier half--and postpone the pressure\nuntil the following day, when by giving an extra half-hour he can\nrecover his lost ground.\n\nOn the score of convenience therefore, and of getting the exercise more\nreverently performed, the practice is to be strongly recommended. On the\nscore of devotion, however, there is room for two feelings, which are\nlargely a matter of temperament. To some the idea of being forward in\none's duty is such a help that it outweighs everything else. To others,\nthe changing the feast at midday to that of the morrow is perplexing,\nespecially on days when there may be Benediction in the evening in\nhonour of the former feast, which in his liturgical life has passed\naway. Then to many persons Compline is an attractive end of the day; and\nthough it is lawful to anticipate Matins and Lauds of to-morrow before\nsaying Compline of to-day, and to reserve this till the last act before\ngoing to bed, it seems hardly the proper and reverent thing to do; and\nit is more common for those who purpose anticipating to say Vespers and\nCompline any time after twelve, sometimes before a one o'clock dinner.\nAgain, those who argue in favour of anticipating often lay stress on the\nfact that it is out of place to say _Jam lucis orto sidere_ in the\nevening: but surely it is at least equally out of place to say _Te lucis\nante terminum_ at midday, or early in the afternoon. Therefore if anyone\nis situated so as to have command over his time, by all means let us\nleave it to his own devotion to adjust his hours, and whether or not he\nwill use the privilege of anticipating.\n\nIn England we have the privilege of substituting our Rosary for the\nOffice on days when we are hard pressed for time. It might be well if we\nused this privilege more freely. For apart from all questions of time,\nthe Rosary is far more easily said with devotion by a tired man than the\nOffice, for it does not involve either reading or finding places. A\ndevout Rosary will give greater glory to God than an indevout Office.\nThe privilege is said to have been first obtained by Cardinal Wiseman,\nin view of the long Sunday Offices which in Lent and Advent were a\ndifficulty to our hard-worked clergy. It was a source of disappointment\nto him that so few priests availed themselves of it. This is probably\ndue in many cases to what are to a great extent scruples. The obligation\nto recite the Breviary is only a positive law, and binds according to\nthe _mens legislatoris_. That mind can reasonably be interpreted by the\nreasons adduced by theologians as sufficient to justify non-compliance.\nThe mere fact that a sick man who feels that he cannot say the whole\nOffice is not bound to say any, lest he should be troubled with\nscruples, shows that any really serious discomfort is admitted as a\nsufficient cause for excusing from the rule.\n\nIt is well, however, to make an effort to avoid looking on the Office as\na burden. If we find it so, we may be certain that there is something\nradically wrong in our performance of the duty. If properly recited, it\nshould be one of the main supports of a priest's life. Cardinal Wiseman\noften declared that he had never once in all his life found it otherwise\nthan an attractive duty. If well discharged, in proper surroundings, it\nmay easily be made part of the liturgical life of the church within us,\nand should help us not a little in keeping the various feasts of the\nyear with devotion.\n\n_Visit to the Blessed Sacrament, Examination of Conscience, Rosary_\n\nIn most Presbyteries in which the church joins, it is customary for the\nclergy to pay an official visit to the Blessed Sacrament after dinner.\nThis is in one sense not a good time, as one is perhaps less inclined\nfor prayer at that moment than at any other during the day. Hence some\nhave preferred to make their visit before dinner. The advantage of the\nmore general plan is that it can be performed with regularity, and will\nnot be elbowed out by pressure of work.\n\nSuch a visit fulfils any kind of quasi-obligation. At the same time\nthere are reasons worth considering for not looking on so short an\nexercise as meeting what is aimed at. A priest's visit should surely be\nan event in his day--as it were a stocktaking of his daily work, when he\nputs his difficulties as well as his consolations with all confidence\nbefore his Lord, and while offering thanks for the latter, begs special\ngrace for the former. This demands that he should not be hemmed in by\nconsiderations of time, and he would also wish to be alone at such a\nmoment. It is a sort of complement to his examination of conscience, and\nshould be an attractive exercise. Surely, then, if ever he wishes to\npray spontaneously and without the restraint of words, a good visit will\nleave its impress on the whole day's work.\n\nThen in the evening, as the last act of the day, comes the actual\nexamination of conscience. As we so frequently urge when speaking on the\nSacrament of Penance, the examination is only a means to an end. The end\naimed at is sorrow for sin, and good resolve for the future. Now in the\npriest's case we are met with a definite danger. Many priests do not say\nregular night prayers as the laity do; for they consider that for them\nCompline is the best form of night prayer. But it does not contain any\ndefinite examination of conscience. The part which corresponds thereto--\nthe _Confiteor_--seems the reflection of days when life was simpler, but\nit contains the most important part, the Act of Contrition. In these\ndays a more systematic examination is called for and is now commanded.\nIt would be well if this exercise were taken a little more seriously,\nand in this matter we might do worse than imitate a good Catholic living\nin the world.\n\nThe recitation of the Rosary does not call for much comment here.\nFreedom and facility in its use is one of the chief characteristics of\nmodern Catholicity, whether of priest or layman. The fact that nearly\nall religious of both sexes wear a large Rosary prominently as part of\ntheir habit shows how completely the Church has adopted the devotion as\npart of her life. Many a layman--or laywoman--recites the third part--\nfive mysteries--daily; and there is surely nothing wonderful in a priest\nbeing asked to do the same.\n\n\n[1] Canon 125.\n\n[2] Canon 805.\n\n[3] \"Sacerdos ne omittat ad Eucharistici Sacrificii oblationem sese piis\nprecibus disponere, eoque expleto, gratias Deo pro tanto beneficio\nagere\" (Canon 810).\n\n[4] The alternative answer, often given, that the priest can make his\npreparation and thanksgiving in his own room can hardly be taken\nseriously. It is possible that there are some few priests who do this;\nbut the ordinary rule is that if the preparation and thanksgiving are\nnot made in the church, they are either not made at all, or at least\ncurtailed to very small dimensions.\n\n[5] _Preparation for Death_, Father Coffin's Edition, p. xv.\n\n[6] _The Priest_, etc., p. 26.\n\n[7] _Preparation for Death_, Father Coffin's Translation, p. xv.\n\n[8] An excellent explanation of the Jesuit and the Sulpician systems can\nbe found in Father Faber's _Growth in Holiness_, chapter xv.\n\n[9] Growth, etc., p. 270.\n\n[10] Preparation for Death, Father Coffin's Translation, p. xvi.\n\n[11] Thus, for example, the _Confiteor_ in Prime and Compline were given\nin the form used in choir, with no reference to how it was to be said in\nprivate recitation. This has now been supplied. And so on in other\ninstances. Even now the choir rubrics are often given without comment--\nas, for example, that which prescribes the _Preces_ at Prime to be said\nin Lent, \"flexis genibus,\" which of course does not refer to private\nrecitation.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE VII\n\nTHE PRIEST'S PASTORAL WORK\n\nIT has sometimes been a matter of comment that in the ordination of a\npriest the Church seems to act in a different manner from what she does\nin the consecration of a Bishop. In the latter case, a man has to wait\ntill there is a vacancy and his work is required for the good of the\nChurch: in the former case, he offers himself for ordination, and it is\nnot until after he is ordained that a suitable vacancy is sought where\nhe is asked to work. In some respects this follows inevitably from the\nnature of the case; for a candidate for the Bishopric can go on working\nas a priest until his services are called for in the Episcopate. In some\ninstances indeed that time never comes, and one who is apparently\n\"Episcopabilis\" never gets consecrated at all. In the case of a priest\nit is manifestly impossible to have candidates for Holy Orders waiting\nto be called to the ministry, and remaining laymen till that time comes.\nAnd indeed if it were otherwise possible, the length of time necessary\nto prepare for the priesthood necessitates the candidate being chosen\nsome years before the need arises; while, on the other hand, there are\nso many openings where a priest's work is called for that one can\nusually be found for a newly ordained priest without waiting, and indeed\nthe tendency is rather for there to be such need that a man has to be\nordained before his time.\n\nNevertheless, the comment does express a real truth. Some men--in\ncertain countries not an inconsiderable number--are ordained as what are\noften spoken of as \"Mass priests,\" who having a sufficient competency of\ntheir own, have no intention of ever offering themselves for pastoral\nwork of any kind. They wish to say Mass, and that is all. It is\nsignificant of the times that this is not to be so any longer. Although\nit is impossible to wait for a definite vacancy, the Bishops are\ndirected in future not to ordain anyone unless they are satisfied that\nhis services are necessary or useful to the Church, and an obligation is\nlaid on every priest to accept any work from the Bishop which he is\nreasonably able to do. [1] There are to be no more \"Mass priests.\" The\nmovement was begun by Pius X in the city of Rome, when he only allowed\nthose to live there who had definite employment: now the principle is\nextended, and has become part of the law of the Church. Hence pastoral\nwork, in its broadest sense, has become an essential part of the\nvocation of a priest. It is proposed here to say a few words about the\nvarious offices of such work a priest ordinarily performs in this\ncountry. This naturally divides itself into two main categories, that\nwhich he does for the sake of his people as a whole, and that which he\ndoes for them individually. The former of these will form the subject of\na later Conference: here we will consider the latter. [2]\n\nThe work of the Church is to sanctify the life of the Christian, and the\npriest's pastoral solicitude should extend to every individual of his\nparish. Many of them he comes to know intimately, through the sacrament\nof Penance, and all of them are his friends as they are friends of\nChrist. [3] His work is to apply to them individually the graces of the\nChurch, throughout their lives, and more especially at the chief\nepochs--to baptise them when they come into the world; to provide for\ntheir Catholic training at school; to prepare them for Confirmation when\nthe opportunity arises; to administer their first Confession and Communion\nwhen they are of a suitable age; when they enter the state of matrimony\nto prepare them for the sacrament, and to assist at it when the parties\nare solemnly married; and, finally, to watch over their death bed, to\nanoint them and administer the holy Viaticum when the last summons\ncomes. But in addition to these main epochs, the priest has to keep\nperennial watch over their lives, to assist them in their troubles, to\nadvise them and absolve them when they have fallen into sin, continually\nto stimulate them in the practice of their holy religion; to warn those\nwho neglect Mass on Sundays, or who stay away from Communion at Easter;\nand to help them in countless other ways. A few words about each of\nthese duties will be in place.\n\nWe begin with the solemn rite of Baptism. Many priests find this the\nleast spiritualising of all their works in the Church. The fact that the\nrecipient of the sacrament is unconscious of what is being done, and\noften in consequence behaves in a manner not befitting the occasion,\nundoubtedly detracts from the solemnity of the rite. Yet there is much\nto suggest itself of special interest, for the sacrament involves the\nwhole history of mankind. The child arrives not a member of the Church,\neven in positive enmity--though unconsciously--to Almighty God, and in\nthe power of the enemy of mankind. As a result of the priest's\nministration, the devil is expelled, and the child acquires the state of\none of the faithful. The command \"Exi ab eo, immunde spiritus, et da\nlocum Spiritui Sancto Paraclito\" should surely bring home to one the\npower of the priesthood. So also the words that follow a little later\non:--\n\n\"Exorcizo te, immunde spiritus, in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus\nSancti, ut exeas et recedas ab hoc famulo Dei: ipse enim tibi imperat\nqui pedibus super mare ambulavit, et Petro mergenti dexteram porrexit.\n\n\"Ergo maledicte diabole, recognosce sententiam tuam, et da honorem Deo\nvivo et vero, da honorem Jesu Christo Filio ejus, et Spiritui Sancto, et\nrecede ab hoc famulo Dei, quia istum sibi Deus et Dominus noster Jesus\nChristus ad suam sanctam gratiam et benedictionem fontemque Baptismatis\nvocare dignatus est. Et hoc signum sanctae Crucis, quod nos fronti ejus\ndamus, tumaledicte diabole, nunquam audeas violare.\"\n\nSo also the profession of faith of the god-parent on behalf of the child\nspeaks of the Christian home into which it is its privilege to be born;\nand this gives the full meaning to the Baptism itself. The\nsanctification of the child is completed by the two-fold anointing--by\nthe Oil of Catechumens before Baptism, and by Chrism afterwards. It is\nthe sign of a good Catholic tradition to wish for Baptism as early as\npossible so that the infant may be sanctified; and the Catholic practice\nis to give him the name of a saint, under whose protection he is placed.\n[4]\n\nThe next epoch in the life of a child is his going to school, which by a\nstrange satire comes always before he has, theologically speaking, \"come\nto the use of reason.\" From henceforth the school teacher, as the deputy\nof the priest, shares with the parents the responsibility for the\nchild's religious education. A good priest is frequently in his school,\nand gets to know the children each and all. Much of the religious\ninstruction is best done by the ordinary teachers, but the priest will\nsupervise it and often participate in it; and when it comes to preparing\nthe children for their First Confession, he will probably keep it in his\nown hands. Nevertheless, he must bear in mind that although according to\nthe new Codex the final responsibility as to the child's fitness rests\nwith the priest (Canon 854, Sec. 5), his final decision requires the consent\nof the child's parent or guardian (_Ibid._, Sec. 4). This consent, however,\nis of course ordinarily assumed: with the large numbers at a modern\nschool no other system would be possible. The children make their First\nConfessions in groups, on a date fixed by the priest. It is hardly\nnecessary to remark that many a child in his first few Confessions\nexperiences difficulty in finding matter to confess. Yet it is very\nimportant for such a one to form the habit of Confession in good time,\nso that when the need really arises by serious sin, the remedy may be\nready to hand.\n\nAccording to the modern practice, initiated by Pope Pius X, the First\nCommunion follows immediately. In many cases the child only partly\nrealises the sacredness of the act. Nevertheless, the surroundings,\ntogether with such knowledge as can be assimilated at that age, give\nplenty of scope for devotion; and with advancing years, the child\nrealises more and more the privilege of receiving the Blessed Sacrament.\n\nWhen the time comes for leaving school, a crisis is reached, and it is\nsad to note how many boys and girls, but especially the former, are\ncarried away by the brightness and interest of life when they go out\ninto the world, and lose sight of their religion altogether. Needless to\nsay, many of them fall into bad company, and their souls become in a\nstate of grave peril. Various works have been set on foot at different\ntimes to retain our influence on our boys at this time of life--the\ninstitution of clubs, or boy scouts, or boys' brigades, or the like,\nwith varying success. It is a time when the priest with all his\nsolicitude is often powerless to do anything. On this we can quote the\nexperience of Canon Oakeley writing half a century ago:--\n\n\"No complaint is more commonly heard among our clergy,\" he writes, \"than\nthat those who have been educated in our schools are lost to the Church\nby scores, if not by hundreds, as soon as the school time is over. This\ncomplaint I fear is but too well grounded, but I think that it suggests\nsome important topics of self-examination to ourselves. Are we\nsufficiently careful to follow with our eye the children of both sexes\nwho have ceased to come under daily observation by entering on the\nduties of their secular callings? This enquiry applies most forcibly to\nthe young men of our flocks, who for many reasons are less likely to\ncome under the protection of watchful guides than young persons of the\nother sex, and who are at the same time exposed to a more dangerous\nclass of temptations.\"\n\nAnd he gives his own experience as to a possible remedy:--\n\n\"The interest which both sexes alike demand at our hands consists not\nmerely in using means to preserve them in the practice of their formal\nreligious duties, but in keeping up their attachment to the Church to\nwhich they belong by engaging them in some practical form of connection\nwith it, such as association with confraternities, or participation in\noffices or works of which it is the centre and spring. I have myself\"\n(he adds) \"witnessed in various ways and in more than one place the\nincalculable advantage of maintaining by some such definite and\npractical bond of union the tie between young persons, but especially\nyoung men, and their church. I have found that the privileges of the\nsanctuary or the choir have been prized as the most precious of\ndistinctions, and that the Offices of the Church have proved successful\nrivals, not to say powerful antagonists, of the theatre or the\nmusic-hall. I have known young men who have been, to my undoubting\nbelief, kept harmless amid the manifold temptations of the metropolis\nthrough influences directly received in, or by means of, the Catholic\nChurch.\" [5]\n\nIn many cases where men have allowed their religion to lapse, the\nsteadying influence required is happily supplied when the time comes for\na man to marry and to devote himself to bringing up a Christian family.\nThe wedding-day is a day of rejoicing; it is the priest's privilege to\nassist at the ceremony in church, and in many cases to join in the\nfestivities afterwards. It is much to be regretted that the nuptial mass\nhas almost died out with us--this being apparently in great part due to\nour Protestant surroundings; the two ostensible reasons being the custom\nof having the ceremony at a late hour, in order to enable people to\ncome, and the wish for a short service so as not to overburden the\nnon-Catholics present. It is the more to be regretted because it is such\na beautiful service that if people were accustomed to seeing it, few\nCatholics would be content to omit it. However, taking the service as we\nfind it, short though it is, it can be made very devotional [6] and\njoyful.\n\nIt has been said by some cynics that such joy is misplaced, and that if\nthe young couple realised the anxieties and trials before them they\nwould look on it as a day of sorrow rather than joy. Such remarks are\nsurely out of keeping with the spirit of the followers of Him who\nassisted at the wedding feast in Cana, and worked His first miracle lest\nthe rejoicings should be marred. In point of fact, marriage is a subject\nfor joy as life is, with all its sufferings and anxieties, for it is the\nmeans of achieving a great and joyful work. If ever there is an occasion\nin life when people stand in need of the joyful sympathy of their\nfriends, it is when they are beginning the main work of their lives. In\nlater years, when storm and stress is on them, they will ever look back\nto their wedding-day for comfort and hope which will carry them through\ntheir trials. If God bless their union with children, the priest is at\nhand to minister to the mother in childbirth, to baptise the offspring,\nand to perform the solemn rite which is the mother's act of thanksgiving\nfor successful childbirth.\n\nAlas, however, many people lose sight of their religion after as before\nmarriage, and their defection affects not only themselves, but their\nchildren. It destroys the character of the home, and is an injustice to\nthose whom they have brought into the world. To them the solicitude of\nthe priest will be continually applied. \"I came not to call the just,\"\nsaid our Lord, \"but sinners to penance\";[7] and the priest's work in\ncontinually visiting his flock--house to house visiting, if\ncircumstances permit--is chiefly directed towards rescuing those who\nhave fallen away, or are in danger of doing so. The special efforts, the\nLenten sermons and missions then or at other times, and the long hours\nspent in the Confessional are directed primarily towards getting back\nthe sheep who have gone astray. No satisfaction of the priest can be\ncompared with that when he brings back a lost sheep to the fold, and\nperhaps creates a holy home which but for his efforts would have been a\nhome of perdition. If he has imitated the Cure d'Ars and done penance to\nhimself in order to obtain such a conversion, the penance will appear to\nhim small indeed compared with the blessings he has obtained.\n\nThe solicitude of a priest must not be limited to his own Catholic\npeople. We have surely a mission to all, and we should try to reach all.\n\"Other sheep I have,\" said our Lord, \"that are not of the fold; them\nalso I must bring, and they shall hear My voice, and there shall be one\nfold and one shepherd.\" [8] One learns by experience how little we have\npersonally to do with making converts. \"The Spirit breatheth where He\nwill,\" and a new convert will come from some unexpected quarter as\nthough dropping down from the skies. It is often assumed that the chief\nschool which produces converts is the High Church party of the Church of\nEngland. This may be so sometimes; but in the small experience of the\npresent writer, both in the four years spent on the mission and in\ngranting faculties as Bishop, this has not been universally the case. He\ncan recall receiving Low Churchmen, Dissenters, Quakers, or unbaptised\npersons with no religion at all, as frequently as those of the High\nChurch. They come at all ages; and often without any very definite\napparent reason. It has no doubt been a case of corresponding with the\ngrace of God, and even when it was originally set in motion by something\nin one of our sermons, or when difficulties have been chased away in\nlike manner, the priest feels clearly enough how little one has had\npersonally to do with it, beyond being the representative of God.\nNevertheless, it is one of the signs of God's blessing on our work, and\nif it is absent, and no converts are coming, we may well take it as a\nwarning that we are not doing our work as well as we might.\n\nThis is not the place to write at length on the treatment of converts.\nLet it be sufficient to say that we should extend to these the very\nutmost charity and sympathy. We who were born Catholics can hardly\nrealise the extraordinary mental anguish which some of them go through\nin their search after truth, and in confronting the call to break with\nthe most sacred associations of their lives. Yet it is no charity to\nthem to receive them when they are only partially instructed or when\nthey have not really grasped the essentials of an act of faith. The\nmodern discipline of requiring a faculty before receiving anyone into\nthe Church is some check on this, but not a complete one. The judgment\nof the priest is practically always accepted and the instructions laid\ndown are often curtailed.\n\nWhen the convert has been prepared, the priest has to complete the work,\nand it is no small consolation both to him and to the convert. But after\nthe seed is planted comes the time of growth, and the anxiety about the\nearly Catholic life of his converts is not the least among the pastoral\nsolicitudes of the priest. In their early days as Catholics they have a\nright to frequent visits from their father-in-God.\n\nWe come finally to a large number of subjects for the priest's visits--\nthe sick of every kind, whether in hospitals or workhouses or\ninfirmaries or in private houses, and from those who are stricken with\ncomparatively light ailments to those who are chronic invalids: and,\nlastly, those in danger of death. Of the sick in general Canon Keatinge\nat the outset calls attention to the essential difference between the\nsick men \"letting the priest know\" and \"sending for the priest\"; and he\nrightly points out that even when the former state is reached, there is\na great opportunity for his soul, and the very protraction of his\nillness, wearying as it is to flesh and blood, may be--whether he\nrecovers or not--the grace of his life. How many a man has been called\nback by illness to serious thoughts, and has made his peace with God,\nwhich may last for the rest of his life, perhaps for many years. \"His\nillness,\" writes Canon Keatinge, \"may be nothing less than a retreat for\nhim and his whole house, if you happen to be a man full of the spirit of\nyour vocation.\" [9]\n\nWhen an actual sick call comes, there is of course no room for choice;\none must go, and at once. The ministration to the dying is a part of the\npriest's office, which is sometimes viewed with some apprehension before\nordination. The surroundings of death are unattractive to nature; the\nsight of the struggle for life which ends in defeat is painful to watch;\nand there is often trying physical discomfort in the surroundings of\npoverty and disease. Yet when it comes to the actual fact, any priest\nwill confirm the statement that it is one of the most consoling duties\nof his office. The very fact that he is attending for purposes of\nministration seems to carry him through all that nature revolts against\nin the sight and surroundings, while he gains for himself a valuable\nlesson on the frailty of human life and the nearness of eternity. It is\nindeed exceptional to be present at the actual moment of death, though\nthis sometimes occurs. But one frequently sees the body very soon\nafterwards, with the familiar death expression on the countenance,\nbefore it has been laid out and assumed the calm sleep-like appearance\nwith which most people are familiar. The thought is inevitable: a few\nmoments ago the soul was here; we were speaking with him; now he has\nseen Almighty God and been judged. May he always remember us who helped\nhim to die as a Christian should!\n\nWe are often asked by the future priest for our experience of\ndeath-beds. The description of the final struggle between good and evil,\nthe last assaults of the devil, who knows that with this soul it is now\nor never, are often depicted in vivid colours in books of devotion or in\nsermons, and this forms one of the features of death of which ordinary\npeople are most afraid. It may be a good thing to have brought before\nthem as a warning a picture of what presumably is a possibility; but\ntruth compels us to say that in the ordinary case it is not so. The late\nDr. Coffin, Bishop of Southwark, who had had a long career as a member\nof the Congregation of Redemptorists, of which he was Provincial, once\nadmitted frankly that although he had often preached it, he had never\nseen it; and his experience of death-beds was very large. The ordinary\nrule is that in the later stages of illness all is calm, and the fear of\ndeath, even in cases where it has been prominent in life, disappears\nbefore the end comes. And--a fact which can never be too strongly\nenforced and which will be corroborated by any priest who has ministered\nto the dying--when the patient is told that death is imminent, in nearly\nevery case the announcement is received with resignation; and the last\nSacraments give no small consolation. This has to be firmly insisted\nupon; for ordinarily a non-Catholic doctor, who has not the same outlook\non death that we have, will deprecate or even forbid informing him as to\nhis condition. The priest has to resist this order, and he can do so\nwith perfect confidence. The physical effect such as it is will be, as\nexperience shows, all in the direction of calming the mind and rather\nassisting than retarding recovery. And to us who believe in the efficacy\nof the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, \"even to restore health when God\nsees it to be expedient,\" this thought appeals with special force.\n\nAre we to understand then that there are no bad deaths, or no death-bed\nconversions? Alas, many a death is evil and Godless, and many people\nrefuse to see the priest at all. Even in such a case there is not\nnecessarily a struggle, for a man may have surrendered himself to evil.\nThere may, indeed, be cases of a struggle between the right and wrong at\nthe end, but they are rare. But with respect to death-bed conversions,\nthere is more to be said. The expression may be used in a broad or a\nnarrow sense. In the strict meaning of the term, that a man after an\nevil life changes his disposition at the very end, this is of course the\nrarest event in the world, and if it occurs, must be looked upon as a\nvery extraordinary grace. But many a person puts himself straight in his\nconfession when in danger of death. Some ancient criminal attachment or\nsome unconfessed sin may have kept him away from the sacraments for\nyears without having destroyed either his faith or his general wish to\nserve God. To such a one his last sacraments form a great grace, which\nshow that Almighty God has not been unmindful of his general aiming at\ngood, and that whereas during life this aim has not been strong enough\nto overcome the special difficulty which came upon him, the stimulus of\napproaching death has been providentially afforded him to strengthen his\nwill sufficiently for true sorrow.\n\nBut apart from death-bed struggles, the judgments of God are often\nmanifestly shown by a sudden death. It has sometimes been remarked how\nmany priests die suddenly; but to them surely sudden death should have\nno terrors. A man who has given his whole life and strength to\nministering for God should surely welcome a short and swift transit from\nthis vale of tears to our home above. But in the case of those not so\nprepared, it is otherwise, and often the sudden death of one whom we\nhave known and loved may come upon us as something truly solemn and\nawful. The following story of his early priestly days, even though more\nthan thirty years ago, has never been forgotten or lost its effect on\nthe present writer, and he makes no apology for reproducing it here;\nthough no doubt most priests might have similar experiences to recount.\n\nA certain Mrs. X., a widow of about forty to fifty years old, who had\nbeen brought up in the Church of England, became convinced of the truth\nof the Catholic religion. She attended mass every Sunday, and was always\nat the evening service both Sunday and weekday--she never missed--and\nshe had ceased entirely ever going to the Anglican Church. After a while\nshe was asked whether she would not like to see the priest and be\nreceived into the Church. She answered that she would do so later on;\nbut she wished to wait till after the death of her aged mother, who was\nmuch opposed to Catholics, and who, she feared, might suppress her\nallowance and leave her nothing by will. Mrs. X. added that there was no\ndanger in waiting: she lived next door to the priest, and in case of\nillness she could and would at once summon him. So matters remained\nuntil one day in the summer, when the school children had their annual\nouting, and the priest accompanied them. On his return, he found his\nhousekeeper almost in a state of hysterics. Mrs. X. had been taken\nsuddenly ill at midday, and had sent across to ask the priest to come;\nbut he was out with the children. About half an hour before his return\nMrs. X. had died. The final scene of this remarkable story was the\nfuneral service of Mrs. X. in an Anglican Church, at which her aged\nmother assisted. Such are the facts, and without taking any too rigid a\nview of the final lot of Mrs. X. in the next world, we can at least see\na punishment for her want of generosity in hesitating to give herself\ninto God's hands as a Catholic until she should have (as she thought)\nmade sure that she would not be the loser in this world's goods. At the\nlowest estimate, she was punished by being deprived of countless graces\nwhich she could have had. \"God is not mocked...what things a man shall\nsow, those also shall he reap.\" [10]\n\nThe pastoral work for the individual does not end with his death. First\nthere are the funeral rites to perform. According to the new Canon Law,\nbeing a parochial function, it must take place in the parish church: the\nordinary cemetery chapel, when there is one, will not suffice; still\nless the recital of the service in the open air, which is often the only\nfunction possible in the case of a public cemetery, and the parish\npriest or his deputy must perform the actual burial. This law is perhaps\nmore important than it seems. The time of a funeral is one when the\nhearts of the mourners are open to influences to which at other times\nthey are impervious; and frequently also there are non-Catholics among\nthem. The beauty of the ceremonial cannot fail to be a real consolation\nto those who are bereaved, if only it is performed in a devotional\nmanner; but a priest who is continually doing it day after day can\nhardly fail to go through it somewhat mechanically. The parish priest,\non the other hand, or the curate, who has assisted at the death will\nhimself share the emotion of the mourners. The custom prevalent in this\ncountry of adding some vernacular prayers when the ritual or official\nprayers are over helps very much at such a season, and not infrequently\naffects the non-Catholics present, for some of our funeral prayers are\nremarkably beautiful.\n\nThen when the last rites are over, the priest will wish to commemorate\nhis dead and to offer prayers for them. The time is unhappily over when\nthe tombs of those who have departed were grouped round the church, to\nbe remembered for many years by those who knew them. This practice was\nspecially in accordance with the Church's spirit. Nowadays the growth of\npopulations and the sanitary considerations have demanded the creation\nof large cemeteries outside the towns. All the more reason therefore\nthat the clergy should continually call the attention of their\nparishioners to the Catholic doctrine of the Communion of Saints and to\ntheir duty to pray for those who have gone before them. This is one\nspecial feature of an Episcopal visitation, and the solemnity of the\nBishop's act should serve to remind both pastor and people of the duty\nand consolation of offering prayers and masses for \"those who have gone\nbefore us in the sign of faith, and sleep the sleep of peace.\"\n\n\n[1] Canon 969: \"Nemo ex saecularibus ordinetur qui judicio proprii\nEpiscopi non sit necessarius vel utilis ecclesiis dioecesis.\" Canon 128:\n\"Quoties et quamdiu id judicio proprii Ordinarii exigat Ecclesiae\nnecessitas, et nisi legitimum impedimentum excuset, suscipiendum est\nclericis ac fideliter implendum munus quod ipsis fuerit ab Episcopo\ncommissum.\"\n\n[2] See also remarks on the Pastoral Office as a source of\nsanctification in Conference II.\n\n[3] St. John xv. 14.\n\n[4] The modern practice of giving secular names is, it need hardly be\npointed out, of Protestant origin. It is to be noted that in the new\nCodex of Canon Law it is definitely enacted that one name at least must\nbe that of a saint (Canon 761).\n\n[5] _The Priest on the Mission_, p. 87.\n\n[6] In the case of \"mixed marriages\" some restrictions are necessary;\nand it is one of the sad drawbacks of our state in England that\npractically a large proportion of our marriages are \"mixed.\"\n\n[7] St. Luke v. 32.\n\n[8] St. John x. 16.\n\n[9] _The Priest, etc._, p. 243.\n\n[10] Gal. vi. 7.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE VIII\n\nTHE PRIEST'S PASTORAL WORK (_continued_)\n\nTHE LITURGY\n\nONE of the regrettable symptoms of present-day Catholicity in London is\nthe decay of liturgy. It is true that we have in our midst now the great\nCathedral of Westminster where the full liturgy of the Church is carried\nout daily with a completeness unknown in modern times; but it seems as\nthough its existence has become a sort of centre of specialisation in\nthat line, while one after another the parish churches have put their\nSunday high mass into a secondary place, or abolished it altogether.\n\nThis is a great change on past traditions. At the beginning of the last\ncentury, when the modifying of the Penal Laws first made it possible, a\ngreat effort was made to have high mass in all the churches of London--\nthen about eight in number. The memories of Webbe at the Sardinian\nChapel, and Novello at the Portuguese Chapel became part of Catholic\nLondon; and in later times, though the singing at the various churches\nwas of a type which we should not now approve--notably at Warwick\nStreet, which gained for itself the title of the Shilling Opera, for all\nthe best singers of the Italian Opera were to be heard there on\nSundays--nevertheless, this indicated much care and attention in the\ncarrying out of the liturgy at high mass. Vespers were also common as an\nafternoon service on a Sunday, which was probably in great part due to\nthe thousands of French _emigres_ priests and laymen who were in London\nin the early years of the century; for in France the singing of vesper\npsalms has always been popular. Even in the country churches it was the\nrule, not the exception, to have a sung mass on Sundays. Here again one\nrecalls a stamp of music with which we should not now be content--such\nas Mozart XII sung in unison, already alluded to in a former\nConference--but it evidences considerable trouble to be able to have a\nsung mass.\n\nWe may well enquire what has caused the London tradition to change. One\nreason may possibly be that the increase of population has led to the\npeople being more evenly distributed between the various masses, so that\nno single mass is the principal one in the sense that it used to be, and\nthat seems expected in the liturgical rubrics. At present in many places\nthe ten o'clock mass draws the largest congregation, and since the\nintroduction of a twelve o'clock low mass, the high mass has been\nfurther depleted, so that the sermon, is often put at the former instead\nof the latter.\n\nAnother reason may be the coming of the tradition from Ireland. There\nare no people on the face of the earth to equal the Irish in their\ndevotion to low mass, or in the number of the mass-going population.\nDublin may be compared with any city in Catholic Europe, and for the\nnumber of people who go to mass on a Sunday--and even on a weekday--\ncould put that city in the shade. But since the suppression of the\nliturgy by the Penal Laws, the Irish have never recovered their taste\nfor high mass or other functions. Even at the Pro-Cathedral in\nMarlborough Street, Dublin, though the singing is excellent, the people\ndo not take to high mass: they prefer to hear a low mass which may be\ngoing on at a side altar at the same time, and at its conclusion the\nchurch empties, though the high mass is not half over. Here in England\nwe have not got the Irish devotion to low mass, and to us therefore the\ndecay of high mass is a greater loss.\n\nBut probably the reason that would be given is that the stress of modern\nlife has made people unwilling to face long services. No doubt there is\nsome truth in the contention that they would not tolerate the length of\nservices current last century. The great _Requiem_ for Pius VI in 1799\nlasted, together with the Dirge, from ten in the morning till nearly\nfour in the afternoon: people certainly would not sit through that\nto-day. In much later times, and within living memory, the ordinary\nSunday high mass, with sermon, lasted the greater part of two hours. But\nthat is not so now. With the present length of sermon, and with simple\nmusic, the high mass need not last more than an hour and a quarter, and\nit may well be questioned whether people would really find this too\nlong. The plea about length is heard perhaps more often from the priest,\nprofessing to voice the mind of the people, than from the people\nthemselves.\n\nIn more outlying parts, it would seem that the regulation issued by Pius\nX insisting on the singing of the \"proper\"--introit, gradual, etc.--in\nsome cases has had the opposite effect to that intended, and has caused\nmany to give up the sung mass altogether; for although it may be urged\nthat the \"proper\" can always be sung either in psalm tone, or at least\nmonotone, in practice people will not attempt it; and indeed often when\nit is attempted, the difficulty of reading Latin to laymen who are not\naccustomed to it in a country where the language is so different in\nsound and rhythm produces a result the reverse of devotional.\n\nThen again restrictions on the class of music from a false reading of\nthe well-known _Motu Proprio_ of Pius X has had the same effect. There\nis no document more frequently misquoted than this _Motu Proprio_. The\nlover of Gregorian music speaks as though universal plain chant was\nprescribed; the admirers of Palestrina quote it in favour of polyphonic\nmusic; while those who are opposed to the masses of Mozart and Haydn,\nonce so popular, appeal to the _Motu Proprio_ as though it were a\ncondemnation of this whole class of music. In point of fact if anyone\nwill actually read the text, he will find it most broad in outlook.\nUndoubtedly the Pope extols plain chant as pre-eminently the music of\nthe Church and calls for its restoration; but he also speaks highly of\npolyphonic music; and with respect to modern music, he only stipulates\nthat it should not be theatrical in character. Those who are familiar\nwith the very light and trumpery music in vogue in the Italian\nchurches--which is the instance actually quoted by the Pope--will\nreadily understand this restriction. That it condemns masses such as\nHaydn's Imperial may perhaps be fairly argued; but most of Mozart's\nmasses would seem to come within the scope of what is allowed. A\npossible exception is the well-known No. XII, which many maintain to\nhave been written not by Mozart at all, but by his pupils. At any rate\nit is of a distinctly more operatic character than the other Mozart\nmasses. But even if Mozart and Haydn are excluded, there are plenty\nof simple masses often sung which are entirely within the line drawn.\nIndeed, on the important point emphasised by the Pope, of the words\nbeing sung so that the listeners can follow them, music of this kind\nis superior to polyphonic, in which the syllables in the different\nvoices so overlap that it is often impossible to follow the words. It\nis true indeed that these masses sometimes include the \"needless\nrepetition\" of the words of the liturgy which the Pope condemns;\nespecially in the _Kyrie_, where the number of invocations is never\nthe proper nine, and is simply adapted to the exigences of the music;\nand in the concluding phases of the _Gloria_ and _Credo_, in which the\n_Amen_ is often repeated many times; in the beginning of the _Gloria_\nalso, or in the _Sanctus_ or elsewhere some repetition is found; but\nas a general rule in the masses we have had in this country the\nrepetitions have been less pronounced than is often implied, and a\ngood many masses are practically free from them. The abuse current in\nItaly of having all the chief parts of the _Gloria_--the _Gratias\nagimus_, the _Domine Deus_, etc.--as separate pieces which is\ncondemned by the Pope has never found its way into England. [1]\n\nThen with respect to details, although the ideal put forward is for a\nchoir of men and boys, it was apparently not intended to exclude women\naltogether: it was only meant to stipulate that they should not be\n\"admitted to the choir,\" which according to the authorised explanation,\nis complied with provided that they are grouped apart and not mixed with\nthe men. Indeed, solos are expressly allowed, provided that they do not\nmonopolise the singing. The chief instrument is to be the organ or\nharmonium, but with leave of the Bishop other wind instruments may be\nadded on special occasions. The only prohibition is against _instrumenta\npercussionis_, specified as pianoforte, drums, kettledrums, cymbals,\ntriangles, etc.--a list which is in itself a sufficient commentary on\nthe music which it is desired to exclude.\n\nAll this seems surely broad enough to bring the sung mass within the\ncapability of most missions. Nevertheless, there is much in favour of a\nreturn to plain chant. The old idea which was involved in Bishop\nDouglass's description of a Requiem a century ago that \"the Responses\nwere in plain chant except the _Libera_, which was in music,\" calls for\ncombating, for Gregorian Chant is in the highest sense music. The chief\nreason that people do not always take to it is that it requires a\ncertain training to appreciate it. If plain chant is to be restored, the\nfirst step is to train not only the clergy, as is already being done,\nbut more importantly still, the schoolmasters. Recently the writer heard\na high mass in a country church sung in plain chant by the school\nchildren, who had been trained by their master, and not only was the\neffect most devotional, but the congregation was already beginning to\njoin in the singing--a consummation devoutly to be wished. If this could\nbe done regularly, we should perhaps see our way to the restoration of\nthe liturgy in popular estimation, and an incidental advantage not to be\nlost sight of would be that it would limit the duration of the services.\n[2]\n\nThe case of Vespers is different from that of sung mass. It was never\nmeant for an evening service of the modern type, and used to be sung\nearly in the afternoon. From the time when vernacular evening services\nbegan to come in--which was about the middle of last century [3]--the\npopularity of Vespers has steadily declined. There are now but few\nchurches where they are ever attempted; and such services as _Tenebrae_\nin Holy Week or the _Dirge_ on All Souls' Day seem to be almost limited\nto cathedral churches. This is of course to be regretted, and it is\nprobable that a good deal more might be done to revive the singing of\nVespers; but it may be doubted whether it would be really popular in\nEngland as a regular thing. [4]\n\nNow a priest should love the liturgy, both for his own spiritual life\nand for that of his people; and likewise for the outward glory of God,\nfor it is the official life of the Church. The Puseyites boasted to\nCardinal Wiseman that great credit was due to them for reintroducing\nhigh mass (as they considered it). The Cardinal replied that still\ngreater credit was due to Catholics who had never lost it. A priest\nshould be educated in the liturgical sense that he in turn may educate\nhis people. If he has little taste for liturgy he is wanting in the\nfulness of his vocation. It is certainly not an over-statement that much\nmore trouble might be taken with the liturgical services than is often\nthe case. To learn to be at home on the sanctuary and to move about\nquietly and in a dignified way requires a little effort, but presents no\ngreat difficulty. Yet often we see it far otherwise. So, also, every\npriest should be able at least to chant the prayers in a proper tone,\nand this will make a great difference to the general effect. If he is\nmusical, so much the better. Many priests are not, and for them it\ninvolves a good deal of trouble and will be only moderately successful;\nbut it is hard to believe that the prayers we sometimes hear represent\nreally the best that the priest can do. An unmusical priest may be\nexcused for finding the Preface and _Pater Noster_ a difficulty, but it\nshould not be insuperable.\n\nAlthough, however, a high mass, or at least _Missa Cantata_, may be\nregarded as the ideal even for small missions, there are undoubtedly\nmany in which this is impossible. In such cases the chief Sunday low\nmass can be and often is performed with solemnity--such as the lighting\nof the \"sixes\" on the altar, and the number of servers increased--which\nmay be very devotional. And it may be accompanied by singing, provided\nthis is in Latin. [5] And in large churches, all the Sunday masses\nshould be celebrated as solemnly as possible. Let it be remembered that\nmany persons always hear one of the low masses only. For this reason it\nis desirable that at least the more essential notices--announcing coming\nfeasts, or fast days, or special services--should be read at every mass,\nas well as the Epistle and Gospel of the Sunday. Where possible, even a\nshort five minutes' sermon serves a very good purpose. The whole service\ncan be made devotional, and the large Communion makes itself necessarily\nso. The well-known description of Father Dalgairns, in his book on Holy\nCommunion, is worth quoting as illustrating this fact:--\n\n\"Enter into a London chapel on a Sunday when not even the few attempts\nat magnificence which our poverty permits us are displayed. Let it be in\nthe depths of the City, in an old-fashioned chapel, with Protestant\npews. Here the church has no beauty that one should desire her. No organ\npeals, and no sweet-toned choir chants. Yet there is a marvel which\nkings and prophets thirsted to see and did not see. They throng to the\naltar; the priest in a low voice repeats the blessed words and gives to\neach his God. No saints are there, but good ordinary Christians, fearing\nGod in the midst of the world; some are even great sinners who have just\nbeen cleansed in the sacrament of Penance. The same scene goes on all\nover even this heretical land. No glorious bells ring out over the\nlength and breadth of England, from spire and steeple, to announce the\nadorable sacrifice, but in our great wicked towns you may count the\ncommunicants by tens of thousands. In Birmingham and Sheffield,\nLiverpool and Manchester, they are crowding to receive their Lord. The\nsame blessed work is going on in lowly country missions scattered up and\ndown the country, where a few worshippers still congregate to worship\nthe God of their fathers, in venerable chapels under the roof of\nCatholic gentlemen, the descendants of martyrs, where the Blessed\nSacrament has found a refuge through centuries of persecution.\" [6]\n\nBut the priest will have to conduct many services which are only partly\nliturgical, or not liturgical at all. Of such a nature is the ordinary\nSunday evening service at most of our churches, or the weekday\nBenedictions, meetings of Confraternities, etc. Here again there is room\nfor improvement in the manner they are conducted. Many a priest\n\"gabbles\" the prayers--especially the Hail Marys of the Rosary--in a\nmanner which makes them quite inaudible, and is a real hindrance to the\npeople joining. It conveys the idea that he is discharging a duty for\nthe sake of his people, without any idea of praying himself. Yet surely\nthe prayers which are good enough for them are good enough for him; and\nin truth there is no more moving or devotional sight than that of a\npriest praying together with his people. The practice of utilising the\ntime during Benediction to say Office is regrettable if only for this\nreason--that it destroys the community of prayer between priest and\npeople, and he loses the grace of the Congregational Act. At the\nEucharistic Congress in 1908, when the people assembled at each side of\nthe street in their thousands, one of the most touching sights was the\narrival of groups or congregations led by their priests, reciting the\nRosary or other devotions or singing hymns with him. No more vivid\nrepresentation could be imagined of the good shepherd leading his flock,\nas is customary in southern or mountainous countries, which formed one\nof the best known of the parables of our Lord.\n\nThere is certainly a need for more variety in our popular evening\nservices: people get tired of the perpetual Rosary, sermon and\nBenediction; but until something better is forthcoming, we must make the\nbest of what we have. Evening services are comparatively new in other\ncountries besides England, as formerly there was no satisfactory means\nof lighting the churches, and there is now room for their development.\nIn some smaller churches Night Prayers are an agreeable variety: the\nCure of Ars used to say them with his people every evening. There is\nsomething to be said also for the old English devotion of the Jesus\nPsalter; and in Lent, Stations of the Cross are usually popular. But on\nthe whole, there is a want of suitable variety in the first part of the\nservice. For the concluding part, nothing could be more beautiful than\nthe Benediction service, which has crystallised itself into a definite\nform for this country.\n\nFinally, it is worth while to put in a word in favour of an effort to\nkeep the church open all day. The importance of this practice has been\nemphasised not only in our own Synods of Westminster, [7] but also in\nthe new Codex, [8] which orders it for at least several hours each day.\nWith us there are sometimes difficulties in the way, especially when the\npresbytery is at a distance from the church. Sometimes, however, these\ndifficulties are unduly magnified. Even the danger of occasionally\nlosing a few shillings from the collection boxes would seem to be not\ntoo great a price for satisfying the devotion of so many who long to\nvisit the Blessed Sacrament from time to time. A Catholic church should\nhave as its characteristic that it is _alive_; and even when no service\nis going on, the daily life of the church shows itself. Time was, and\nnot so many years ago, when a church left open would run the risk of\nbeing maliciously desecrated: and that is probably in part at least\nresponsible for the bad tradition in some of our churches in this\nrespect; but it is to be hoped that we have got past that danger by now.\n\n\n[1] That is, not as a rule. In the days of the so-called \"shilling\nopera\" at Warwick Street, some of the Italian type of masses were in\nvogue.\n\n[2] As an extreme example of the opposite spirit and the decay of\nliturgical sense may be quoted that of a church a few years ago on Palm\nSunday, which fell that year on March 16, the only music being at the\ndistribution of the Palms, when the people sang the hymn \"Glorious St.\nPatrick.\" On another occasion at quite a large church, one Maundy\nThursday, falling that year a few days after March 19, and within the\nsupposed Octave of St. Joseph, when we came hoping to find _Tenebrae_,\ninstead there were popular devotions before the statue of St. Joseph,\nwhich in consequence of Passiontide, was covered with a purple veil, but\nhad lights burning before it.\n\n[3] About half a century earlier a system of English psalm-singing was\nintroduced by some of the gentry in their chapels. Owing to the nature\nof its origin--for it was at a time when the laity were in opposition to\ntheir Bishops and adopted the name \"Cisalpines\"--these English psalms\ndid not at that time receive Episcopal sanction; but they were not\nforbidden, and were in use in some chapels down to comparatively modern\ntimes. In the home of Cardinal Vaughan at Courtfield, in Herefordshire,\nthey were in regular use. In his youth he learnt to love them, and when\nBishop of Salford he introduced something similar in his Cathedral, with\nconsiderable success; and the experiment was copied elsewhere. When he\ncame to London as Archbishop, he tried to introduce them there; but they\nwere not taken up, and are now rarely heard anywhere. Nevertheless, the\n\"Come let us adore\"--an adaptation of the _Venite exultemus_--found its\nway into the Manual of Prayers and has thus secured a permanent place\namong our devotional exercises.\n\n[4] The practice in some few churches of having votive Vespers of our\nLady every Sunday has little to recommend it. They are in truth private\ndevotions, and ought to be sung as such, without any liturgical\naccessories. If there is, as often, a celebrant in cope, either he will\nbe vested in a colour incongruous to the season--as, for example, a\nwhite cope in Lent or Advent, or even on a green Sunday--or, what is\nworse, he will be celebrating the office of our Lady in green, red or\npurple, which is still more incongruous. Moreover, since the reform of\nthe Calendar under Pius X, the proper liturgical psalms at Vespers are\nnearly always the same, which removes the difficulty which used to drive\npeople to votive Vespers of our Lady, in days when the liturgical\nVespers were so various and complicated.\n\n[5] So the _Motu Proprio_ of Pius X provides. In the case of children's\nmasses the singing of English hymns seems to be sanctioned by custom.\n\n[6] P. 403. (Ed. Duffy. 1903.)\n\n[7] \"Ad hanc devotionem magis magisque fovendam, vehementer optandum est\nut Ecclesiae aditus vel continuo diu, vel si ruri sit, per aliquot\nhorarum spatium fidelibus pateat; et doceantur omnes amantissimum\nSalvatorem in Ss. Eucharistia latentem invisere, adorare, ac fervidis\nprecibus supplicare, animamque simul communione spirituali refocillare\"\n(_I Westmonast_. xviii. 9).\n\n[8] \"Ecclesiae in quibus Sanctissima Eucharistia asservatur, praesertim\nparoechiales, quotidie per aliquot saltem horas fidelibus pateant\"\n(Canon 1266).\n\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE IX\n\nTHE PRIEST'S PASTORAL WORK (_continued_)\n\nPREACHING\n\nLET us begin this Conference by propounding a question for\nconsideration. The preaching of the Word of God is a sacred part of the\npriest's pastoral work, and not the least sacred part of it. Yet the\naverage priest speaks of it as though it were a task irksome in itself,\nto be got through somehow or other, and always a nuisance. If anyone is\navailable and is kind enough to replace him in the pulpit, or if he gets\noff by the timely arrival of a Bishop's pastoral, he is unreservedly\npleased. It is true that he is usually a hard-worked man, and that if he\ngets off any of his work, it is a relief to him; but in the case of a\nsermon he is far more relieved than in any other case. Does this look as\nif he appreciated at its true value the pastoral work of preaching the\nWord of God?\n\nIn order to get a true answer to this question, we shall probably not be\nfar wrong in seeking it in the personal history of the individual priest\nas preacher, to see whether he has imperceptibly learnt an inadequate\nview of his office.\n\nIt is hardly an exaggeration to say that his early sermons were simply a\nstruggle against breaking down. He was naturally nervous the first few\ntimes that he found himself in so novel a position, standing before a\ncongregation all listening to his words. In order to nerve himself up\nfor the occasion, he has taken no small trouble in writing out in full\nhis discourse and committing it to memory. His chief anxiety is lest his\nmemory should fail him--which sooner or later it is sure to do, not\nonce, but often, and he is anxious as to what will happen the first time\nthat this shall occur. He gets through his first sermon, and is then\nanxious about his secondhand so on. Very soon he finds that it is\npractically impossible for him to write out all his sermons, and he\ncontents himself with an analysis; for as time goes on, he is acquiring\na certain facility in expressing himself _ex tempore_, and the frequency\nof his sermons is gradually curing him of nervousness. Perhaps the first\ntime that he lost the thread of his discourse he covered his difficulty\nbetter than he might have hoped, and this helps to give him confidence.\nThen sooner or later it will occur that some unexpected pressure of\nwork--a sick call on a Saturday night or a Sunday morning, let us say--\nprevents him from preparing his sermon at all in a systematic way, and\nhe finds himself face to face with the duty of preaching with only a few\nminutes to collect his thoughts. With commendable trust in Providence,\nhe says a fervent prayer for Divine assistance, boldly ascends the\npulpit, and perhaps surprises himself at the facility with which he\ndischarges his task. Would that he always bore in mind that if our\nHeavenly Father helps us in a special way when we have to speak for Him\nand His kingdom on the pressure of an emergency, this does not dispense\nus from using ordinary means on a future occasion when the emergency has\npassed away. It was for such occasions--when the Apostles were to be\ndelivered up to the hands of their enemies--and for those occasions only\nthat He told them to \"take no thought of how or what to speak; for it\nshall be given you in that hour what to speak.\" [1]\n\nIf we may venture to give a natural explanation, it would be that we all\nhave a certain class of thoughts in our mind which, under the influence\nof sudden or strong stimulus, take shape in words. If we trust to these\ntime after time, we shall, to say the least, lay ourselves open to great\nmonotony and self-repetition in our preaching. And this is what often\noccurs as a young priest gradually gains confidence, and begins to think\nthat he can preach without serious or long preparation.\n\nThe above description might be continued, but enough has been said for\nthe present purpose, which is to call attention to this point. At the\nbeginning the priest's preaching has been a struggle to get through\nwithout breaking down. When he has been sufficiently long at it for this\ndanger to have passed away, he still has the practical feeling--his aim\nis to fill up the requisite amount of time with respectably good matter,\nso as to discharge his duty. It has hardly at all come before him in the\nlight of a privilege to speak the Word of God, a source of grace to\nhimself as well as to others, an expression of his own spiritual\nthoughts put forth for the benefit and instruction of those entrusted to\nhis pastoral charge; and this is to a large extent responsible for the\nwant of fervour and of soul and interest in his sermons.\n\nIt is always easier to state an evil than to suggest a remedy; but it is\nsomething towards the desired end if we are able to diagnose the true\ncause of our difficulty. The conclusion urged is that it is not enough\nto insist on an elaborate direct preparation; on a scientific knowledge\nof the way to order a discourse; on rules of elocution and rhetoric;\nhighly desirable as some of these may be. Still less would one ask a\npriest to write and learn all his sermons, which even if practically\npossible, is not in any way desirable. The true remedy is rather to\nteach our young priests the spiritual side of preaching, to train them\nto look on the sermon as part of their pastoral office. If this view is\nplanted in their minds at the outset of their priestly career, it will\ngrow rapidly and strongly, as by actual contact with their parishioners\nthey feel their own power for good in the pulpit, and see before their\neyes their people growing and living on the strength of words heard in\ntheir sermons. It is this consciousness which will elevate the duty in\ntheir minds from an irksome task to that of one of the most privileged\nof their pastoral duties.\n\nIn this point of view we see the key of the remark often made that the\nremote preparation for preaching is more important than the proximate.\nBy the remote preparation is meant the priest's daily life, his union\nwith God, his supernatural views of the things of this world, and the\nacquiring of his store of thoughts from his prayer, his meditation, his\nspiritual reading, and, not least important, his pastoral work among the\npoor, the sick and the dying. \"We cannot but speak the things which we\nhave seen and heard.\" [2] If the truths of faith are so vividly present\nto us that God's dealings with mankind are as things we have actually\nseen and heard, we shall long that others may share our privilege, and\nwe shall feel the greatest joy in instructing them in Christ's Name. But\nif this spirit be wanting, all human eloquence will be of no avail. The\nvalue of the sermon is the reflection of the life of the preacher.\n\nIn considering the question of reading and study in preparation for the\npulpit, we naturally turn first to the two-fold branches of Scripture\nand Dogma as that which will help chiefly to give substance and backbone\nto our sermons.\n\nIt is astonishing how little use many preachers make of the inspired\nWord of God, containing as it does in itself not only the essence of all\nreligious history and dogma, but so many of the words of Christ Himself.\nLimiting our observations to the Gospels alone, it is an extraordinary\ngrace we have received in having such full records of His words and acts\nat least during His public life. This in itself enables us to have a\nreal personal knowledge and love of our Redeemer. We should expect our\nsermons to be full of His words and sayings, His parables, His\nillustrations, the example of His works; and that all our moral lessons\nshould be illustrated and driven home by His words. Yet in practice we\nhear sermon after sermon with no more than a few texts from Scripture\nscattered through them, and these often isolated and without their\ncontext; and when we find a preacher really familiar with our Lord's\nlife and words, we comment on it as quite remarkable.\n\nIt is probable that this is largely due to our habit of quoting isolated\ntexts in support of dogmatic truths, and our very reverence for them as\nthe inspired Word has led us to rest on the actual words and to lose\nsight of their general context. Very probably also Cardinal Manning's\nremark may be true, that since the sixteenth century there has been a\ntendency to over-strictness against the popular use of the Scriptures as\na sort of recoil or reaction against Protestantism. At the present day,\nhowever, there is happily a reaction against this in all countries, and\na movement in favour of circulating at least the New Testament more\nfreely in the vernacular. With us we can date it from the issue of the\nsixpenny New Testament by Burns and Gates, and the Penny Gospels of the\nCatholic Truth Society; but the cheap Gospel texts in the vernacular\nwhich have appeared in some other countries--notably those issued by St.\nLuke's Society in Rome itself--have outdone anything we have in England.\n\nOne of our chief and foremost duties then is to familiarise ourselves\nwith the words and actions of our Lord in English. There are many texts\nwith which we are familiar in Latin, but we seldom make use of them\nbecause of the labour of turning them into English in the middle of a\nsermon, when our mind is already intently occupied. Let us know them in\nEnglish for the sake of our people whom we wish to instruct. As to how\nthis is best done opinions may differ. Some recommend learning texts by\nheart so as to have them always at hand. Others would find this method\ntoo mechanical, and would prefer to trust to their own reading of and\nmeditation on the Gospels to bring about the desired result. They would\nargue that he will have more command over texts that he has used and\npondered over than over those he has simply learnt by heart.\n\nIt is wonderful how the simple quoting of Gospel words elevates our\nsermons. The people want the words of our Lord, His acts, His parables,\nthe lessons He intended to teach; they want to hear of the collateral\nsetting of His life, the gradual development of His work, the kind of\npeople He was teaching, and so forth. Then they should hear the teaching\nof St. Paul, his words to his converts, his warnings against abuses, his\ndoctrinal and disciplinary instructions. Then also they like to hear\nfrom time to time some of the Old Testament--either the history of God's\nchosen people, or the beauties of the Messianic prophecies--of Isaias\nand others; or the psalmody of David; or the Sapiential books of\nSolomon; or the works of Jeremias and the other prophets. Mere memory\nwork will not do all this for us; we must ourselves be accustomed to\nthink of the Gospels, to meditate on our Lord's words, to see the\nmeaning of His parables, and so forth. Here is prayer enough and work\nenough to last us a lifetime, and be continually bearing fruit.\n\nNow we come to direct preparation of our sermon. Undoubtedly the only\nway at the beginning is to write it out, learn it and deliver it from\nmemory. But this laborious process is only a means to an end. It will in\nthe first instance help the priest through his initial shyness and\ndiffidence in speaking of God and holy things in public; and it will lay\nthe foundation for the methodical composition of a discourse. For he\nwill soon learn the sequence of ideas which sound at first artificial,\nthough eventually they become part of the instinct of the preacher--\ntext, introduction, statement, development, explanation, illustration,\nperoration, etc. But it bears the same relation to preaching that the\nold autumn manoeuvres did to war. His sermons in future will not be\nwritten out: in the present hard-worked state of our clergy, it would be\nimpossible; and in any case, it would be ineffective. A sermon written\nand repeated by heart _must_ sound unreal and dead. [3] As Cardinal\nManning puts it, \"The written word is what we thought when we wrote it;\nthe spoken sermon is what we think at the moment of speaking. It is our\npresent conviction of intellect and feeling of heart: it is therefore\nreal, and felt to be real by those who hear it.\" [4]\n\nIt is not intended to discourage a careful preparation, so far as\ncircumstances will permit; quite the contrary. But it will not be of the\nnature of writing a set discourse. It will be a far more simple\npreparation. Cardinal Manning instances the preaching of the Apostles.\n\"We cannot,\" he says, \"conceive these messengers of God labouring to\ncompose their speech, or studying the rules and graces of literary\nstyle. The records of their preaching in the New Testament are artless\nand simple as the growths of nature in the forest, which reveal the\npower and beauty of God. Their words and writings are majestic in their\nelevation and depth and pathos and unadorned beauty, like the breadth\nand simplicity of the sea and sky. Their whole being was pervaded by the\ndivine facts and truths, the eternal realities of which they spoke.\" [5]\n\nLet us fix our ideas by a definite instance. In all St. Paul's career\nthere was no one sermon which would have needed greater care than his\nsermon at Athens. He had to speak to a highly educated audience, of\npeople without belief even in God, most of them eaten up with pride,\nlistening to him with a supercilious curiosity; and he knew that for\nmost of them his sermon would be the one opportunity of their lifetime.\nIf any sermon of his would have needed previous thought and preparation,\nit would have been this one. Of course we have no authority for saying\nhow much preparation he gave to it. We can well imagine his carefully\nthinking over what he was going to say, thinking of his initial outburst\nabout the Unknown God, carefully considering his line of argument about\nthe Resurrection of our Lord, his reference to the Greek poet with whom\nboth he and they were familiar, and so forth. But equally we most\nassuredly cannot for a moment imagine him writing out and learning his\ndiscourse. Had he done so, it would have lost all its force and reality.\nAny gain in the artificial rhetoric, or the choice of words, or the like\nwould have been far more than compensated for by the hollowness and want\nof fervour _hic et nunc_. Other instances might be adduced and the same\nreasoning applied to them: St. Peter's sermon on the day of Pentecost,\nSt. Stephen's speech to his murderers, and many others. From internal\nevidence we can see that these were thought out and prepared beforehand;\nbut we cannot even imagine their having been written out and committed\nto memory.\n\nOur future preparation may perhaps be something of this kind. First we\nhave to fix on our subject--not always the easiest part of our work. Let\nus suppose that on reading through the Sunday Gospel some aspect of it\nor some incident in it appeals to us from a particular point of view,\nand that point we decide to develop. Possibly something we have read in\nthe past occurs to mind, and we get out a book--or perhaps several\nbooks--to suggest to us a few ideas. Then the first stage of our work is\ndone.\n\nThe next process is to think. We have to make the ideas our own, and\ndevelop them according to the bent of our own minds. This cannot easily\nbe done as we sit at our desks. Thoughts will not come to order.\nDeveloping a subject in one's mind is a gradual process, and takes time.\nIt can well be done as we walk from place to place, or exercise any\nlight employment. It is specially suitable to do it as we go about our\npastoral work. The words we use in our visits to members of our flock\nare the reflection of our mind and will bear close resemblance to our\nwords in the pulpit. If we find plenty to say, and are conscious of the\nconsolation we give by saying it to the poor individually, why should it\nnot be so likewise when we address them from the pulpit?\n\nIn order to complete our preparation, we must then sit at our desk and\nwrite out the substance of our thoughts and put them in methodical\norder. We should also look up the texts of Scripture on which we rely,\nand frequently the context will suggest further thoughts. All this will\nvary between man and man, and between day and day. Some will write long\nnotes, others short. On some days thoughts come easily, on others only\nwith difficulty. Some people may find it useful to write a fair copy\nwhen the matter has been rearranged, others will arrange their matter\nmethodically at the outset, and so forth. When we have done this, we can\nleave the sermon to the time, presumably not far distant, when we are\ngoing to preach it.\n\nIn the case of many of our less formal sermons, the delivery follows\nclose on the first preparation, and even that has to be much curtailed.\nSuch are the few words which we deliver to Holy Family meetings, or\nother Confraternities, and short addresses at weekday evening services.\nThe Sunday catechetical instruction forms a subject by itself, and the\nidea that it can be efficiently performed with little or no preparation\nshould be strongly deprecated. It is an opportunity of doing great\nthings for the children, and implanting in their minds ideas which will\nlast them through life, and often be, as it were, their sheet-anchor to\nkeep them to their religion in after years, in times of stress and\ntemptation, or call them back to it if they have unhappily fallen away.\nThe responsibility of such an opportunity is great, and no trouble\nshould be too great to secure its effective performance.\n\nWe now come to the time of the sermon's delivery. To some the quarter of\nan hour immediately before ascending the pulpit is the most important\npart of the preparation; to all it is an important part. It is essential\nthat we should begin with our mind full of our subject. A very little\npractice will enable us to feel at home in the pulpit once we have\nbegun, and we shall soon acquire self-command and power to collect our\nthoughts there. Nevertheless, we shall often forget many things which we\nhave thought of during our preparation, while other thoughts will\nsuggest themselves in most unexpected fashion. A celebrated French\npreacher once said that he had never ended a sermon without finding that\nhe had omitted most of what he had intended to say, and said much that\nhe had not intended. [6] It matters not: what matters is that when the\npriest is speaking he should be full of his subject, earnest,\nenthusiastic, speaking straight from his heart, and above all things\nzealous for the good of his hearers.\n\nThen let his declamation be simple, earnest, natural. The inflated and\nartificial style of oratory, current until almost modern times, would\nto-day be wholly out of place. At best it was ill-suited to so lofty a\npurpose, and St. Alphonsus only followed the lead of many saints and\nothers in warning the preacher against the style it naturally led to.\nThe present simplicity of taste is far more in keeping with the\nsacredness of the work. Let the priest say what he means and mean what\nhe says, and the intrinsic force and sacredness of his words will be\nbetter than all rhetoric. Above all, let there be no affectation of\nmanner or self-consciousness, which does so much to mar the effect of a\nsermon. By all means, however, let him practise clearness of utterance.\nIt is very trying to a congregation to sit before a preacher whom they\ncannot hear; and especially when such happens through the preacher's\nneglect of the ordinary rules of elocution. Nor does it usually require\nany greater effort on the part of the preacher to make himself\nintelligible. Clearness does not always necessitate loudness, nor is it\nalways achieved by it. A careful utterance in a suitable pitch is really\nall that is required; and the people should be spared the annoyance of\nlistening to a preacher who clips his words, or only partially\npronounces them, or drops his voice so that the last syllable of a word\nor the last word of a sentence is inaudible: all these faults make it an\neffort to follow him. And if there is any weakness in the initial _h_ or\nthe final _g_ of a word, the effect is far from pleasing. In order to\ndraw fruit from a sermon, one wants to be able to follow it _without\neffort_, and to be undisturbed by fault or peculiarities of enunciation.\nThese ends cannot be attained unless the preacher will take some\ntrouble; but with a little trouble it can easily be done. Nevertheless,\nit often is _not_ done. [7]\n\nThe preacher should likewise make an effort to get over his natural\nshyness and disinclination to use his hands. This will go of its own\naccord as soon as he has had sufficient practice to feel at home in the\npulpit. We do not wish to gesticulate so much as the French priests do--\nit is not in accordance with the genius of our people; and what is\nsuitable in one country is out of place in another. Still less do we\nwant any forced or unnatural gesticulation. At first we should do with\nvery little. Many Englishmen do always with very little. But in most\ncases, it comes natural after a time to use the hands, and when it is\nnatural, it increases greatly the force of our words.\n\nA few remarks should be made as to the length of time at which to aim.\nIt is safe to say that the pressure of modern life calls for shorter\nsermons than our fathers were accustomed to. The practice of five-minute\nsermons at the Sunday low masses, which first emanated in systematic\nform from the Paulists of New York, is now fairly common, and of great\nservice to those who cannot attend the principal mass on Sundays. But\nthe curtailing of the chief sermon may easily be overdone. People will\nnever venture to complain of the shortness of a sermon, but in truth one\nof eight or ten minutes does not satisfy them, nor allow time to develop\nthe matter properly. It may be admitted, however, that shortness is a\nfault on the right side, and people would not now tolerate the length of\nsermon that used to be imposed on them. As a general rule, it would be\nwell to be under twenty minutes rather than over, unless the occasion be\nan important one, with a special preacher, who may allow himself longer.\nThis applies to the chief sermons only; that at the evening service on a\nweekday, or at Holy Family or Confraternity meetings or the like would\nnaturally be shorter; eight or ten minutes might in many cases be\nenough. The length of time that we can hold their attention will of\ncourse vary somewhat from day to day. One is able to tell at once when\nthe listeners are getting weary. But even when we are conscious that\nthis is so, there may be more good done than we are aware of. Frequently\nsuch has afterwards come to our knowledge; in numerous other cases it\nmay have occurred without our knowing it.\n\nMoreover, the good done by a sermon depends on what has been said in the\nbody of the discourse. A good beginning or a good ending may round it\noff as a literary composition; but they will not appreciably affect the\nvalue of the sermon from the point of view of gaining souls. The same\napplies to the methodical development of the subject throughout. It is\nuseful to aim at it, but if we fail to attain it, or go astray from the\nscheme we had made out, no great harm is done. What is important is that\nwhatever we say should come from our heart, and that we should be so\nunited to God as to fulfil our Lord's words, \"It is not you that speak,\nbut the spirit of your Father that speaketh in you.\" [8] This is the way\nto reach the hearts of our congregation, and to make our sermon in truth\npart of our pastoral work.\n\n\n[1] St. Matt. x. 19.\n\n[2] Acts iv. 20.\n\n[3] That is, an ordinary parish sermon. In the case of a sermon on some\nspecial occasion this remark must be modified. Such sermons partake of\nthe nature of a pronouncement, and it is important that the language\nshould be carefully weighed, and no point of importance omitted. They\nusually find their way into print, and are therefore addressed to a\nlarger and different audience besides that in the church, and must be\ntreated on a different footing.\n\n[4] _Eternal Priesthood_, p. 187.\n\n[5] _Ibid_., p. 179.\n\n[6] Perhaps a remark may be here made respecting the eventuality which\nfrom time to time occurs to every preacher. All those who have been in\nthe pulpit are familiar with the sudden feeling of blank coming over the\nmind, and the momentary complete forgetfulness of the scheme of the\nsermon. The great thing on such an occasion is not to stop. Once one\nstops to think, ideas go further away, the silence and expectancy of the\ncongregation become oppressive, and the pause seems interminable: it is\na question whether we shall ever recover ourselves at all. Whatever\nhappens, one must not stop. One can repeat what one has just said in\nslightly different words, or give forth any religious sentiment, or the\nlike: this gives time for thought and conditions favourable for\nthinking, and ordinarily one's ideas will return in plenty of time. And\nonly those who have themselves had experience in preaching are likely to\ndetect what is happening. One can occasionally notice even the most\nexperienced preachers losing their thread in this way, and it is worth\nnoting as an antidote to discouragement.\n\n[7] A similar remark applies to the notices, and the Epistle and Gospel,\nwhich are sometimes read with quite painful carelessness. This is a\npoint which many laymen feel very much.\n\n[8] St. Matt. x. 20.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE X\n\nTHE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST\n\nIN the rules of every religious order are to be found special\nprovisions with respect to recreation. These are both positive and\nnegative. On the one hand there is usually a daily recreation which\nall take in common; and besides this, there are other times on feast\ndays or other occasions when the ordinary rule of silence is relaxed\nand recreation by conversation is possible. On the other hand there\nare the negative rules, that a subject must not seek recreation\noutside his monastery, and must not go out for social intercourse with\nhis neighbours without the leave of his superior, for which he must\nadduce a good reason.\n\nThe prominence attached to such regulations shows the important place\nwhich the subject holds in the life of the Order or Congregation. With\nthe secular clergy this is no less so; and as is so often the case in\ncomparing the two states, we find that the secular priest has in one\nsense a harder task, for he has no limitations of rule to guide him\nand no superior at hand to counsel him. He has to depend on his own\nstrength of will and his own judgment.\n\nBut at the beginning of his priestly career, he has even greater\ndifficulty, for it comes at a time when he has just thrown off the\nrestrictions of seminary life, and also when he is reaching the\nfulness of his manhood. The world which has been kept from him to a\ngreat extent up to then now seems to open out and smile before him. It\nused to be a frequent question to seminarists, \"How soon do you hope\nto be out?\" Now he has come out. He is at once made much of by his new\nparishioners, who shower upon him invitations to lunch, dinner,\nsupper, or other social gatherings. He needs no small self-control to\navoid being carried off his legs at the outset, and being drawn into a\ndaily life such as he never looked forward to when picturing to\nhimself the priesthood.\n\nHis personal freedom also tends to increase the difficulty of his\nstate. He has no wife or family to think of, he is alone, and is for\nthe first time in the enjoyment of outward liberty, for his actual\npriestly duties can in the majority of cases be postponed or adjusted\nor even omitted to facilitate his recreation. It is very easy for his\nboy's outlook on life, which he should have put away before entering\nphilosophy, to persist in considerable measure not only during his\nseminary course, but even after he has begun his career as a priest.\nSuch an attitude is simply to take anything pleasurable or attractive\nwhich comes in his way, provided it is not sinful, and to enjoy it.\n\nThe state of the newly ordained priest in this respect is vividly\ndepicted by Cardinal Manning:--[1]\n\n\"To a priest who enters for the first time upon the sacerdotal life\nthe first danger is the loss of the supports on which he has so long\nbeen resting in the seminary. As in the launching of a ship, when the\nstays are knocked away, it goes down into the water, thenceforward to\ndepend on its own stability; so a priest going out from the seminary\ninto the field of his work has thenceforward to depend under God upon\nhis own stedfastness of will. The order, method and division of time\nand of work; the sound of the bell from early morning through the day\ntill the last toll at night; the example and mutual influence and\nfriendship of companions in the same sacred life; and still more the\nnature, counsel and wise charity of superiors--all these things\nsustain the watchfulness and perseverance of ecclesiastical students\nuntil the day when invested with the priesthood, they go out from the\nold familiar walls and the door is closed behind them. They are in the\nwide world, secular as the Apostles were--that is, in the world for\nthe world's sake, not of it, but at war with it; of all men the least\nsecular, unless they become worldly, and the salt lose its savour.\"\n\nA little later he continues:--\n\n\"A life of unlimited liberty is encompassed with manifold temptations.\nA priest coming out of a seminary needs fellowship, and he often seeks\nit in society. He does not as yet know the character of those about\nhim, or the reputation of the homes to which he is invited. Before he\nis aware he is often entangled in relations he would not have chosen\nand in invitations which, if he had the courage, he would refuse.\nPeople are very hospitable and pity a priest's loneliness and like to\nhave him at their tables. Sometimes the best of people are least\ncircumspect and most kindly importunate in their invitations. How\nshall a young and inexperienced mind hold out against these facilities\nand allurements to relaxation, unpunctuality, self-indulgence and\ndissipation? The whole of a priest's life may be determined by his\nfirst outset. He has been in it too short a time either to gain or to\nbuy experience.\"\n\nIt is not meant to be inferred that all social invitations should be\nrefused and all intercourse with one's neighbour avoided. Such would\nbe both impossible and undesirable. Nor, indeed, can it be allowed\nthat such invitations are by any means always accepted from motives of\nrecreation at all. Such is of course often the case; but often it is\nnot. In many instances the priest may be fulfilling a duty of charity,\nor finding a means of spreading his pastoral work, and the recreation\nmay be a secondary consideration, or may even be absent altogether.\nIndeed, as a priest gets into years he will find more and more that\nmany of his duties will bring all that is necessary for him in the way\nof recreation without his seeking it by any special act; and this even\nthough he has to face much which is dull or unattractive or monotonous\nto him. The late Canon Oakeley, in his lectures at St. Thomas's\nSeminary so far back as the year 1870, lays stress on this point:--[2]\n\n\"A priest,\" he writes, \"especially in some of the less populous\nmissions, will soon find that social intercourse with his parishioners\nis quite as often a duty of charity as a means of personal recreation.\nHe must either refuse invitations altogether, or participate in some\nfestivities which will tax his good nature and exercise his self-denial\nquite as much as many of his severer duties. He may have to sit\nout a dull dinner-party, with uncongenial companions, on a hot day in\nsummer. He may have to carve a round of beef for thirty hungry\nchildren at a Christmas party. He may have to adapt himself to the\ntastes and manners of the poorer members of his flock at some rural\nentertainment where his presence will tend to promote innocent mirth\nand to check dangerous excesses. On these and similar occasions he\nwill find it necessary to put a restraint on his natural inclinations,\nin order to confer on those for whose happiness he is responsible that\nespecial gratification which good Catholics of every class derive from\nthe sympathy and society of their priest.\"\n\nYet, apart from duties of charity, _some_ recreative society can\nlawfully and advisably be sought in the houses of the laity; but it\nshould be strictly under control and subject to narrow limits. Above\nall things, a priest must not be a slave to it, so as to be driven by\nhuman respect often to accept invitations which his reason may tell\nhim to be inordinate. A priest should not be a pleasure-seeker; and if\nhe is not ready to deprive himself of much society which has an\nattractive appearance, for the sake of his work and for the\nrecollection of his life, it is an unfailing sign of the loss of the\npriestly spirit. But precisely what limits to lay down for himself,\ncannot be stated in general terms, for it depends not only on a\npriest's own personality and temperament, but also on the\ncircumstances in which he is placed. Canon Oakeley, however, adds one\nrestriction which should certainly be adhered to, for we live in an\nill-natured world, and our best friends are ready to be captious in\ntheir fault-finding:--\n\n\"The priest in society,\" he writes, \"must never forget that he is a\npriest. Even if he forgets it, others will not. The ambiguous jest,\nthe anecdote of questionable propriety, the loose and unguarded\nmanner, with other such indications of the unpriestly character, will\nbe remembered and perhaps quoted against him when the evening is over,\nand when its warping influences have given way to calmer thoughts and\ncooler judgments. The same persons who in the spirit of hospitable\ngood nature have placed in his way the inducements to those excesses\nwhich at least weaken morality, if they do not occasion scandal, will\nbe among the first to criticise the indiscretions to which they have\nhelped to give rise. The demeanour of a priest in society should\nalways be marked by humility, modesty, courtesy and prudence. He\nshould be swift to hear and slow to dogmatise. He should avoid\narguments except when necessary for the vindication of truth; and when\nthus necessary, he should maintain his side with meekness and in the\nspirit of charity.\"\n\nThere is one kind of social intercourse that should be an unmixed\ngood, and often is so--the meeting with our fellow clergy. It is\ndifficult to get them together for merely social gatherings; but any\npart of their work which brings them across their fellow priests is to\nboth parties a source of strength as well as recreation. One of the\ngreat advantages of the monthly Theological Conference is that it\nbrings groups of clergy together and is often made the occasion of a\ndinner or other social gathering. In like manner, not the least of the\nbenefits which the Clergy Fund confers on its members is the bringing\ntogether of all the clergy of the South of England once a year to\nspend an evening in each other's society.\n\nEven gatherings of the clergy, however, are not without their abuses.\nThe sight of a party of priests playing at cards hour after hour, till\nlate at night, with its usual accompaniments, is happily more rare\nthan it once was; but it is hardly obsolete even yet. Of course there\nis nothing in itself wrong in a game of cards, or in playing for\nmoney, provided the stakes are low; but it is well known as leading to\nmuch abuse. The excitement is of an unhealthy kind, and whether one is\nwinning or losing, it is difficult to break off when a suitable hour\narrives. Indeed, the whole question of card-playing needs treating\nwith caution; both because it so often leads to what is undesirable,\nand because the recreation it affords is at best out of proportion to\nthe time consumed. After a long session one ends less fresh than one\nbegan. A game of whist, or to some extent bridge, in which\nconsiderable skill is required, rests on a somewhat different footing:\nbut even of that we should be wise to exercise a careful control.\n\nFrom the social side of a priest's life, one naturally turns to that\nwhich has most influence on him when he is alone and which will\ninclude the chief part of his solitary recreation--his reading. To say\nthat much of the success or failure of his priestly life will depend\non the proper direction of his reading is merely to say what is\nobvious. Leaving out of account his directly spiritual exercises, he\nwill undoubtedly have a large amount of time on his hands which may be\nmost usefully employed in reading, and which otherwise will be simply\nwasted. A certain proportion of this may be solid work, such as\ntheological or other study, necessitating close application. A\nmathematician may utilise his powers by studying problems or other\nmatter, which stimulates and improves his mind. But there must be a\nlarge amount of time left when the mind is too tired for serious\nexertion, and this can be profitably devoted to reading of a lighter\nnature.\n\nThe first idea that occurs to one is novels. In past times a stricter\nview obtained about novel reading than seems to be the case to-day.\nThere is no doubt that a purely sensational novel is a powerful\ninstrument for the loss of time, and it engenders an unhealthy craving\nfor excitement of an undesirable type. A novel which is chiefly read\nfor the excitement of its plot is beyond all doubt the priest's enemy,\nand a greater and stronger enemy than many realise. Such novels exist\nto-day in large numbers, and are sold at low prices. Perhaps for that\nreason they are not spoken of with much respect, and being of a\ngenerally low order, are less likely to ensnare us than those of a\ngeneration or two ago. This of course does not apply to classical\nnovels, such as Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, etc., nor to many modern\nnovels by standard authors. But there are many to which it does apply.\nEven the best novels are permeated with worldly ideals, and the\nmainspring of the story always turns upon love affairs, which even to\na Christian in the world should not be the exclusive motive of life.\nNevertheless, if such books are read with care and discrimination,\nmuch recreative as well as educational thought can be obtained from\nthem without any serious instilling of wrong principles.\n\nThe general subject of novels, however, is too long and complex to\ndiscuss here. We can perhaps get a little more practical on that of\nnewspapers. To a priest a certain amount of newspaper reading is not\nonly desirable, but necessary to keep him in touch with the world in\nwhich he lives and works. To know what is going on politically, the\nforces at work in Parliament, the agitations through the country, the\nrelations of capital to labour, the lives and deaths of distinguished\nmen, is essential to the conditions of modern life. Would that\nnewspaper reading stopped there! Alas, many of the principles are\nunconsciously imbibed and are detrimental to the priestly spirit. This\nis no new evil. So far back as about the year 1836, Dr. Newsham of\nUshaw wrote to Dr. Wiseman, as he then was, Rector of the English\nCollege at Rome, deploring the newspaper as the source of much of the\nwant of ecclesiastical spirit among the clergy of his day:--[3]\n\n\"I will say to you frankly that there is a very great want of a spirit\nof piety, faith and religion in our clergy. It is useless to\ninvestigate the cause of this. I will say briefly that it has probably\nin good measure arisen from the great majority of the missionaries\nbeing young men, from the little control that has been exercised by\nthe Bishops for many years over their young priests on the mission,\nand probably above all from the spirit of the times which is\nincessantly infused into the mind of a young man by our abominable\nnewspapers. In fact, a greater pest, a more efficient weapon of the\ndevil does not exist in the world than the English newspapers. Their\npernicious effect on the minds of our young ecclesiastics has been\nobserved and lamented by many others as well as myself.\"\n\nAt the present day the evil is of course emphasised by the great\nprofusion of cheap newspapers, and as a rule the cheaper the paper,\nthe lower the style and setting. And a further evil has arisen of\nreading those parts of them which give a momentary excitement. The\nlittle paragraphs are a potent time-waster. Even during the war, the\nevening papers contain much that is not really of any permanent\nimportance about it, but out of war-time we became familiar with any\nnumber of small tit-bits which may beguile the time of a business man\nreturning home from his work, but which are unworthy of the attention\nof a serious-minded priest. Yet the paper became so full of them that\neven important news, such as the proceedings of Parliament, became\nrelegated to a back page, or even got omitted altogether.\n\nIf we want to see a priest at his worst, we cannot think of a better\nopportunity than after breakfast on a winter's morning, if we can find\nhim, as we sometimes can, spending an hour or two of the most valuable\ntime of the day, when he is best fitted for work, in sitting before\nthe fire reading the newspaper and smoking pipe or cigarette.\n\nThis perhaps suggests a few words about smoking itself, which can be\nreckoned among a priest's recreations; and if properly controlled, a\nvery good recreation it may be. The solace of a pipe towards the end\nof a day, when nature calls for a rest and an opportunity for quiet\nthought, may be of great assistance to a priest in recuperating after\na day's work. And a smoke after meals is good and healthy for mind and\nbody. But, alas! many people do not limit themselves to moderate\nsmoking, and the habit often leads to sad waste of time. There are\nindeed some who can work better with a pipe in their mouths: but these\nare the exception. The ordinary rule is that smoking is only\ncompatible with light occupation. Hence a man who is always craving\nfor a smoke is always craving for a few idle moments. How many small\nintervals in the day are there which many a priest fills up with a\ncigarette, with or without a little light reading or newspaper\nsnippets. One does not easily realise how much time can be thrown away\nin this manner. Cardinal Manning used to have always at hand what he\ncalled a \"five-minutes book,\" and he used to tell of the large amount\nof reading which he thus got through in his short unoccupied\nintervals.\n\nBut the evil of the frequent cigarette is more far-reaching than that.\nThe craving which calls for a few minutes of self-indulgence of this\nkind is surely an opportunity for a little self-control and\nmortification: if this is allowed to slip, by degrees one becomes a\nslave to smoking. And the evils of heavy smoking are many and great.\nOne is the general demoralising effect on oneself. Another is the\nunpleasant effect it has on others. A heavy smoker is a selfish man:\nthe fact that he inconveniences his neighbour does not deter him.\nAfter all, non-smokers form more than half of the congregation, for\npractically all the women and children are such, besides a not\ninconsiderable proportion of the men. To non-smokers, the smell of\nstale smoke is always unpleasant, while not infrequently it engenders\nunwillingness to go into close contact, as for example in the\nConfessional. Then again the stained fingers which mark the heavy\nsmoker seem an unworthy instrument for saying mass, and for touching\nthe Blessed Sacrament. Many a person has been kept away from a priest\nby his reeking of tobacco. Truly a priest's whole career may be marred\nby the habit.\n\nThe danger of continual smoking at small intervals is obviously much\ngreater in the case of a cigarette than a pipe, and one stage towards\nself-control in this matter would be to keep the number of cigarettes\nstrictly limited. But the best preservative is to have fixed hours for\nsmoking of any kind and never to smoke outside them.\n\n\n[1] _Eternal Priesthood_, p. 76.\n\n[2] _The Priest on the Mission_, p. 209.\n\n[3] _Sequel to Catholic Emancipation_, i., p. 140.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE XI\n\nTHE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST\n\n(_continued_)\n\nTHE actual laws about a priest's recreation are, as is almost\nnecessary from the nature of the case, only negative. They enumerate\nthe amusements in which he must not take part. In our own Synods there\nare two laws, the first of which is taken from the Synod of St.\nCharles at Milan:--\n\n\"Priests should keep away from spectacles unworthy of an ecclesiastic,\nfrom clamorous hunting which is carried on with horse and hounds, from\npublic dances, from unlawful games and from feastings which are\nprotracted till late in the night.\"\n\n\"We strictly forbid clerics in Holy Orders from being present at\nscenic representations in public theatres [or in places which serve\nfor the time as public theatres], [1] imposing on transgressors the\npenalty of suspension incurred _ipso facto_, as has hitherto been in\nforce throughout England, with reservation to their respective\nOrdinary.\"\n\nThe first of these laws is sufficiently vague to admit of considerable\nvariety of interpretation. So far as public dances or balls are\nconcerned, the practice has always been to regard them as not the\nplace for a priest. At the time of the French Revolution, the\n_emigres_ clergy, who were received in England with such hospitality,\nused to be invited to all kinds of festivities, and no doubt their\nheads became somewhat turned. At any rate, many of them used to stay\nup the greater part of a night at balls to which they were asked,\nuntil it reached the ears of the Bishop, who prohibited it. In truth,\nif balls or dances were ever so innocent, such dissipation prolonged\ninto the night is incompatible with priestly life.\n\nIt would seem, however, from recent decisions that the Holy See means\na rather stricter interpretation to be affixed to the law, and\nalthough these actual decisions may only bind locally, in the United\nStates and Canada, it seems hardly rash to infer that it is intended\nto discountenance priests generally from attending or promoting\nentertainments which include dancing. [2]\n\nWith respect to the rest of the law, it is difficult to be very\nprecise; but we shall not be far wrong if we adopt a general rule that\nin every case when a priest is tempted to conceal his priesthood, and\nadopt a costume which will allow his being taken for a layman, he is\non the verge of frequenting \"a spectacle unworthy of an ecclesiastic.\"\nIt can be done with care without breaking the letter of the law about\necclesiastical dress, simply by covering the Roman collar and wearing\na dark grey coat; and it has been done in the past by those who wished\nto attend a spectacle where a Roman collar would be out of place.\n\nIn the case of going to a football or cricket ground, especially the\nlatter, to watch the game, the case is wholly different, for we find\nplenty of Roman collars openly worn. At the time of writing, the war\nhas put an end to the possibility of this pastime for so long a period\nthat one has almost forgotten its fascination. We are even inclined to\nwonder how we could ever have allowed the first-class cricket scores\nto have the prominence they once had in our thoughts. For it is not\nmany years ago that the Daily Mail would announce the \"sad plight of\nEngland\" cabled from the Antipodes during a Test Match with as much\nprominence as is now given to apprehended danger of invasion by the\nGermans. If cricket ever fully revives, however, there is a good deal\nto be said in favour of an occasional afternoon at Lord's or the Oval.\nIt gives one fresh air and an amount of occupation not inconsistent\nwith quiet reflection on more serious topics. To watch a game of\nfootball is in some ways less desirable, not only because the\nexcitement is more concentrated, but because the general tone of the\ncrowd is rougher. Still, a priest can go in his Roman collar.\n\nIt is hardly necessary to point out that the unlawful games alluded to\nhave no relation to our English athletic exercises. The modern\ncounterpart would perhaps be games at cards for high stakes, about\nwhich some words have already been said. The question of athletics is\na very different one. Cardinal Manning, though himself in his younger\ndays a cricketer, took a stern view of a priest playing. \"Can you\nimagine\"--he would say--\"going before your Creator for judgment with a\nchalice in one hand and a cricket bat in the other?\" Or again, \"Should\na priest have time to throw away in running after a piece of leather?\"\nIt may be doubted whether he often carried conviction with such\narguments. Still, these considerations cannot be wholly put aside. But\nit would be narrow-minded to make objection to athletics in general,\nif indulged in with moderation, and in suitable surroundings. Either\ntennis or cricket may be good for both soul and body, though the\nlatter game exacts so much time that it is only exceptionally within\nthe priest's reach. But the game of golf, so much in vogue in later\nyears, is almost an ideal one as a clerical recreation. In this,\nhowever, as in all matters of recreation the personal tastes--and\npersonal attainments--must be the decisive factor. Many have no\ninclination for athletics after leaving school. They find as they grow\nolder that the exercise which comes naturally with their daily work\nsatisfies their needs, with perhaps an occasional long walk, which\nthey designate a \"constitutional\"; and often during such\n\"constitutional\" they can do some valuable thinking. Some writers do a\nlarge part of their composition while out walking.\n\nThere is another form of athletics which is capable of great use, or\nof some abuse--that is, the bicycle. In these days, indeed, it has\nbecome so much part of every-day life that many use it simply for the\npurpose of getting from place to place. But it can also be used on a\nlarger scale to provide an excellent recreation. As a physical\nexercise indeed, it is exacting, especially when--as will often be the\ncase--the weather is unfavourable, or the wind in the wrong direction,\nand it is doubtful whether it conduces much physically to health. But\nit has an admirable power of taking away a man from his daily\nsurroundings and giving him a complete mental change and rest. If the\nweather is fine, indeed, and the conditions favourable, it tends\noccasionally to make inroads into our work. But if used judiciously it\nmay be the occasion of much educative interest, and give one some of\nthe advantages of travel which the modern railway transport from point\nto point fails to give. Mr. Ruskin refused to travel by train, and to\nbe conveyed, as he said, like a parcel. If he had lived in the days of\nbicycling, he might have found the key to his difficulty. The\nbicyclist makes close acquaintance with the people and the places\nthrough which he travels; he can visit the old churches and interest\nhimself in their history; he can see the various industries and way of\nlife of the people among whom he goes, and so forth. This is still\nmore so if he has a motor-cycle, as his range of country is so largely\nincreased. His interest may be developed by a portable camera; and\nindeed photography in itself is a capital recreation. So is botany, or\ngeology, or any kind of hobby which a man may take up. And any hobby\nis to be encouraged. If a man says he has no time to pursue a hobby,\nhe is probably an idle man. One who is keen can make time and this is\nin every way an advantage.\n\nWe can now turn to consider the second synodical law--that against\nfrequenting the theatre--which is not only more precise, but has a\nheavy penalty attached to its infringement, that the delinquent is\n_ipso facto_ suspended from his priestly functions and commits a sin\nreserved to his Bishop. Such a stringent law indicates that the matter\nis viewed seriously.\n\nThe fact is that the Church has always spoken in strong terms against\nthe theatre. Bishop Milner uses his customary violent language in that\nsense. \"Everyone knows,\" he says, [3] \"that actors and actresses by\nthe laws of the Church and the particular constitutions of our mission\n[4] are considered as habitual sinners and in a state of damnation, to\nwhom therefore the sacraments are to be denied. Setting aside, then,\nall other consideration, can any Christian think it lawful by his or\nher presence or money to assist in keeping these wretches in such a\nstate?\" And again, \"What are the opinions, the taste, the conduct, and\nin a word, the lessons which are inculcated by the theatre? I say that\nthe very best modern tragedies exhibit and recommend that pride,\nambition, vainglory, impatience, anger and revenge which are the very\nreverse of our Divine Master's morality inculcated in the eight\nbeatitudes. And with respect to all the comedies and almost all the\ntragedies, they are made up of the sentiments, the intrigues and the\ngratification of the concupiscence of the flesh under the specious and\nall-meaning name of Love.\"\n\nProbably few would be found to speak in that drastic manner to-day. It\nis, to say the least, remarkable that the actor's profession seems to\ncontain a greater proportion of Catholics than almost any other, and\nalthough we cannot regard it as free from dangers, the activities of\nthe Catholic Stage Guild, and the fact that it is under high\necclesiastical patronage show that the profession is not regarded as\nin itself illicit. Moreover, those who have come across actors in\nprivate life can testify to the fact that a large amount of real\ngoodness exists among them, and that as a class, they are very\ncharitable, and aim at high ideals.\n\nNevertheless, the considerations put forward by Dr. Milner cannot be\ntoo lightly set aside, even under modern conditions. One of the\ndangers of the stage is that it unconsciously undermines Christian\nmorality, substituting that of the world: extolling pride as a virtue,\nlooking down on the humble as poor-spirited and the like. A Catholic\nspectator may honestly believe himself to be unharmed, whereas as a\nfact his hold on Christian principles may have been lowered, and\nworldly ideals substituted in their place.\n\nIt is true indeed that a new stamp of theatrical representation has\narisen since the date of Dr. Milner, typified by the Gilbert and\nSullivan comic operas, or the burlesques which were so fashionable a\ngeneration or two ago. These produce much mirth and recreation, and\nare free from the danger alluded to. But it is worth noting that it is\njust these pieces which are most infected with improprieties of dress\nfrom which Christian eyes should be kept.\n\nA somewhat similar remark applies to the Italian Opera, which was once\nthe very height of fashion, and still retains a part at least of its\nformer distinction. The plot or _libretto_ takes a comparatively\nsecondary place and does not attract much attention, it being only the\nsetting of the music, which is the chief attraction. But as a set-off,\nwe are frequently brought face to face with a ballet of a most\nimproper nature. Certainly the inference drawn by the ordinary\nfrequenter of the theatre is that such performances are not wrong, and\nit is prudish to object to them.\n\nAnd if it be argued that one meets with similar worldly ideals in\nnovels, or even in everyday life, or that the state of the London\nstreets brings similar indecorum before one, the answer is simple:\nwhat one meets with by accident in everyday life is one thing; what is\nput for before us for our admiration and dressed in its most\nattractive form is a totally different one; and many a man drinks in\nan idea unthinkingly at the theatre which he would not assimilate in\nthe same way by mixing in everyday life or even by reading a novel. In\nthe case of a regular frequenter of the theatre, we find his whole\noutlook on life distorted by its morality.\n\nIn similar way, though the views of Cardinal Manning against all kinds\nof theatrical entertainments are commonly admitted to have been\nextreme, what he says cannot be dismissed too easily, for it contains\nmuch truth.\n\n\"Every theatre,\" he writes, \"is the centre of a neighbourhood\nabounding in all manner of evil, which lives and thrives on the\ntheatrical world. There are upon the stage many good men and many good\nwomen; but also of both many bad. The spirit and surroundings and tide\nof the stage are dangerous and downward. The classes and trades that\nthrive by it are too well known to need words from me. Why should\nanyone aid, abet, comfort or share in such a traffic, even by the\nprice of a box or a single ticket? I had rather have no liability\nhowever limited in such a trade.\"\n\nProbably most persons to-day would look upon these words as a somewhat\noverdrawn picture, and it is to be hoped that we shall not be\nconsidered wanting in respect in taking a somewhat less rigid view.\nPerhaps we may apply the same principles as St. Francis of Sales\napplies to persons living in the world assisting at parties, balls,\nand social dissipations generally [5]--that such things should be\ntaken with caution and not too frequently, in which case the\nrecreation and other good which they provide may be obtained, and the\nharm avoided. Thus, if it be argued that the need of recreation in the\nmodern world is great, that the stage contains much that is\nentertaining, or at times even elevating, and that its evils may be\ncounteracted in the case of one who is solidly instructed in his\nreligion, a strong case might be made in favour of frequenting the\ntheatre provided it is not done too often, and that one knows that\nthere are dangers lurking which require watchfulness and care. It may\nbe urged that Cardinal Manning, from his very nature, never realised\nthe necessity or use of real recreation, for he seemed able to work\ncontinuously without any; and, moreover, the particular recreation of\nthe theatre was to a great extent a closed book to him, for it is well\nknown that early in life he made a resolution not to put his foot\ninside one, and he kept it throughout his life. This would seem to be\na justification for at least taking a somewhat less rigid view than\nhis on the matter.\n\nBut in the case of the priest, the question is totally different. Such\ndissipation in such surroundings is incompatible with his general\nlife, and out of harmony with the stern seriousness of the priestly\nvocation. It prevents recollection at a time of day when it is\nespecially needed, and his morning's Meditation and mass must suffer.\nMoreover, a priest in a Roman collar is an official, and must not\ncountenance by his presence the indecorum which is of such frequent\noccurrence in every theatre.\n\nYet one has heard of some priests regretting the law; but the\narguments put forward by them do not appeal with much force. One is\nthat the theatre has changed since the law was made and it is not now\nobjectionable as it once was. It is remarkable to note how this has\nalways been said. So far back as the time of Dr. Milner this argument\nwas used, as he himself testified. It is probable that as times goes\non, plays become more outwardly respectable, and the improprieties are\nless emphasised; possibly for that very reason they are more\ninsidious. The general spirit of the theatre does not seem to change,\nand is not likely to.\n\nDuring the last decade of the eighteenth century, before the penal\nstate of Catholics had been relaxed, no law on the subject existed;\nand the celebrated preacher, Rev. James Archer, used to go to the\nplay, to get a lesson in elocution; and when in 1803, at the first\nmeeting of Bishops which approached the nature of a Synod, they\nforbade the practice, Mr. Archer was very irate. The style of\neloquence at that epoch was far more inflated and artificial than\nanything with which we are familiar, and we can hardly imagine such\ncomplaint being made now; but even in recent times, one has heard of\nCatholic actors being asked to give a priest some hints on elocution.\nAs regards actual delivery, and means of making ourselves audible, it\nis possible that they might give some useful advice; but it is certain\nthat the real value of a sermon will never depend much on mere rules\nof rhetoric; and any rhetoric which is artificial is a hindrance, not\na help.\n\nThen again it is urged that the rule does not act justly: there are\nplaces more unsuitable than theatres, such as music-halls, which are\nnot forbidden. This indeed is possible enough. It is exceedingly hard\nto draft a rule which shall cover exactly the cases desired, and the\ndifficulty is increased tenfold when the rules were made seventy years\nago, for the style, for example, of music-hall entertainment has\nwholly changed in that time. No rule against music-halls was necessary\nthen, as no priest would have thought of going to one. In recent years\nthe type of music-hall has become higher, and if the law were made\nto-day, it is possible that a reference to them might be thought\ndesirable. But after all, even if it were granted that the rule may be\nworded badly, that would not interfere with the undoubted fact that\nthe theatre was intended to be forbidden, and no inclination has ever\nbeen shown to go back from the rule.\n\nIn recent years a wholly new problem has presented itself by the\ninvention of the cinematograph. The present state of picture palaces\ngives much room for thought and almost makes one weep. The\nattractiveness and low price bring it within the reach of all. What a\npower it might be for educating the people, and raising the tone of\ntheir recreations! Yet in fact it does the very reverse. The reason is\nsimply the style of film which is shown. Here and there one gets an\ninteresting and educative one--such, for examples, as the official war\nfilms which have been shown--but even these are usually sandwiched\nbetween the low farcical vulgar displays which in the majority of\ncinemas constitute the whole performance. They are indeed free from\nsome at least of the objectionableness of the theatre; but that is all\nthat can be said in their favour. Indeed, much of the juvenile\ncriminality which seems on the increase has been confidently\nattributed to these picture palaces.\n\nWith respect to the desirability of the priest going to a cinema--for\nit is not against any definite law--it is difficult to lay down a\ngeneral rule. Certainly there are many low-class cinemas which he\nwould never think of attending. Some of the better-class places in\nLondon or elsewhere might sometimes provide him with useful\nrecreation; but it is only stating what is obvious in saying that he\nwill treat the matter with great caution.\n\n\n[1] The words within brackets were added at the Synod of 1872, at\nwhich Archbishop Manning presided.\n\nThe following is the original text:--\n\n\"Abstineant sacerdotes a spectaculis viro ecclesiastico indignis, a\nvenatione clamorosa quae equo et canibus fit, a publicis choreis, ab\nillicitis ludis, et a cornessationibus quae usque ad intempestam\nnoctem protrabuntur. Prohibemus districte ne ecclesiastici saeris\nOrdinibus initiati, scenis spectaculis in publicis theatris vel in\nlocis theatri publici usui ad tempus inservientibus intersint,\nimponentes transgressoribus poenam suspensionis ipso facto\nincurrendam, hactenus ubique in Anglia vigentem, cum reservatione\nrespectivo Ordinario\" (_Westmonast_. i. xxiv. 2; iv. x. 9).\n\nThe corresponding law in the new Codex is:--\n\n\"Spectaculis, choreis et pompis quae eos dedecent vel quibus clericos\ninteresse scandalo sit, praesertim in publicis theatris, ne intersint\"\n(Canon 140).\n\n[2] _Acta Apostolicae Sedis_, May, 1916, p. 147, and January, 1918, p.\n17.\n\n[3] _Life_, p. 112.\n\n[4] The first rule prohibiting the theatre to priests was made at the\nSynod of Winchester and Old Hall in 1803, which was indeed the first\noccasion on which the four Vicars Apostolic were able to hold a\nmeeting to consider such matters at all. The penalty enacted was then\nas now, suspension _ipso facto_, reserved to the Bishop.\n\n[5] Devout Life, chapter xxxiii.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE XII\n\nTHE ANNUAL HOLIDAY\n\nIN these days regular holidays every year have become a recognised\nnecessity for a life such as that of a priest in this country. The\neffect of modern conditions of living, the prevalence of \"slum\"\nneighbourhoods, with their generally depressing surroundings, the\ncontinual pressure of such concentrated daily work, all bring with\nthem as a corollary the necessity of from time to time being released\nfrom them altogether for a while, and modern invention has also\nprovided the means of getting away from one's work easily and cheaply,\nwhich our ancestors neither possessed nor needed. The expression \"he\nis away on his holiday\" has passed into our language.\n\nWhatever is to be said of the general hardness of a priest's life, in\nthis one respect it stands out as more fortunate than that in most\nother professions. A priest on a town mission--and it is on such a\nmission that a holiday is really needed--commonly has four consecutive\nSundays off duty once every year, which means in many cases that he is\nable to absent himself for nearly five weeks. The conditions of his\nlife render this possible, and nobody grudges it. Even the war has not\ninterfered with a priest's holidays, at any rate as regards their\nlength. And in this country they are more systematically regularised\nthan in most others. Some half a century ago a Belgian Bishop wrote to\nCardinal Manning asking him to dissuade his priests from visiting\nBelgium when on their annual holiday, lest they should unsettle the\nlocal clergy and instigate them also to look for holidays. In our\ntime, however, holidays for priests, before the war, were not so\nunknown there. A primary result of this systematic arrangement for\nholidays is that an appreciable part of a priest's life is spent in\nthis way, and it becomes of importance for us to enquire how we spend\nit.\n\nThe science of arithmetical addition often produces startling results.\nA person adding up accounts for the first time is surprised at the\ntotal amount of money that he finds has passed through his hands, both\non the credit and on the debit side. Let us apply the process to the\npriest's holiday. We will suppose that the average time he takes is\none calendar month--which is ordinarily well within the mark. In the\nfirst twelve years of his priesthood therefore he spends a year in\nholidays. One who has reached his silver jubilee has occupied over two\nyears so: an old priest may have spent four or five years in this way.\nClearly much will depend both in time and in eternity on how it has\nbeen spent.\n\nOr we may look at the arithmetic from another point of view. If one\nmonth in every twelve is spent in vacation, it would seem to follow by\nthe law of averages that one priest in twelve would have to meet his\ndeath during his holidays. For several reasons, however, this estimate\nhas to be modified. Death is not ordinarily so sudden but that the\nillness which precedes it will show itself in time to prevent the\npriest from starting on his vacation. But suppose we reduce the\nestimate from one in twelve to one in fifty, or even one in a hundred,\nthat still leaves us matter for serious reflection; and experience\nshows that this is not much above the mark. It is no uncommon thing to\nhear of a priest who started on his holidays, if not in good health,\nat least with the hope of regaining it, and his hopes being frustrated\neither by the arrival of death while he is still away, or by his being\njust able to return home to die. This surely, if we have the prudence\nand forethought which a priest ought to have, should make us pause and\nconsider. If it is possible, and not extremely improbable, that so\nimportant a moment may have to be faced during our outing, it is\nessential that we should not relax our spirit of recollection so\ncompletely but that we may be able quickly to resume it when\nconfronted by a crisis.\n\nNow it is precisely here that the difficulty of spending our vacation\nwell comes in. It is essential for the very purpose for which we go\naway that we should relax our spiritual exercises to some extent,\notherwise our vacation will fail of its effect, and we shall return\nwithout that freshness which forms so valuable a send-off to the next\nyear's work. The recreations of a priest's life are at all times\ndifficult to regulate--as we have seen in the preceding Conferences.\nTo succeed in obtaining relaxation of mind, without at the same time\nincurring dissipation, is never easy: and most of us in looking back\non our past lives will probably find more to regret in the time given\nto recreation than in any other time. But the difficulty is greatly\nincreased when recreation is the order of our daily life, and our\nordinary elevating influences are for the time to a great extent in\nabeyance. Yet we know that an ill-spent holiday leaves us on a lower\nlevel than it found us; habits and practices are gone, and there is\nnothing in their place except, perhaps, half-formed habits of\nself-indulgence and general slackness.\n\nBut there is in truth another side to vacation time which is the very\nopposite to its dissipating side. It is a time when being released for\na while from our daily work and anxieties, our mind turns back on our\nlife as a whole, our shortcomings, our prospects for the future, our\ndevotions and spiritual exercises, and the like. Some periods of\nvacation time may be in this way almost as good as a retreat. The\npossibility of utilising it thus of course depends to some extent on\nour surroundings, how we are spending it, whom we are with, and what\ndoing. But we shall usually have sufficient unoccupied time at our\ndisposal, whether we are with our friends or relations, or on our\ntravels, and we can without forgoing any real relaxation let our\nthoughts revert to our life and our work as a priest, which indeed we\nshall naturally do if our interest in them is what it should be. If we\ndo not, much of our time will be simply thrown away. The author of the\n_Imitation_ says that sickness changes no man, but shows what he is.\nSomething similar may be said of holidays. The manner in which they\nare spent, and the thoughts which come uppermost will be a clear index\nof the state of mind, spiritually, of the man who spends it. And if\nthe occasion is utilised, it will afford a valuable offset to the\nnatural dissipation of the period.\n\nIf, then, so much depends on the vacation being well spent, some\nthought should certainly be taken in good time beforehand, that the\nnatural falling to low level may be checked by definite resolutions\nmade in advance, for when the time comes, the surroundings are not\nfavourable to making laws for ourselves. The following remarks then\nare intended as a help towards sanctifying a time which it is more\neasy to lose ground than at any other period of the year.\n\n1. The Roman collar should never be taken off, or at least no outward\nchange should be made which would indicate that we are trying to\ndisguise our priesthood. It is true that theologians tell us that\nunder certain circumstances, when on a journey, it is lawful to do so;\nbut \"all things are lawful to me, but all things do not edify.\" [1] It\nis said that to be dressed as a layman makes one freer, and this is no\ndoubt the case; but it is questionable whether such freedom is\ndesirable. The restraint of one's priesthood, and the general rule\nthat wherever one cannot appear as a priest, one will not go at all,\nis a useful check on our lives at such times. Incidentally it may be\nremarked that the disguise will not often be successful, and many will\nsee through it. The shorn appearance, the general want of fit about\nthe clothes, and the evident discomfort at wearing so unusual a garb\nattract observation; and sooner or later, the suspicion aroused is\nconfirmed by the appearance of a well-worn Breviary, out of which the\ndisguised priest is saying his Office. The general effect is lowering\nboth on others and himself. The feeling that it is a disguise brings\nwith it the practical conviction that he is acting in a manner\nunbecoming to his state. Once a priest, always a priest, and it is\nonly in very exceptional circumstances that one should ever pretend to\nbe anything else. The priest's dress will not interfere with any\nrecreation which is suitable for him.\n\n2. A certain minimum number of times for saying mass should be fixed\nand closely adhered to. Even outside that limit, mass should not be\nomitted without real cause. The sight of a priest who has put his mass\naway at the beginning of his holidays as \"work,\" to be left behind\nuntil he returns, or at most to be produced on Sundays, has in the\npast been unfortunately too common; and the reaction which induced a\npriest when freed from his morning exercises to stay in bed\ninordinately late is not edifying. There are indeed days when a rest\nis needful, or advisable, or when it is difficult to make suitable\narrangements, or when all time available is wanted for an excursion,\nor to catch an early train; but in many instances there is no such\nreason. In truth a fervent priest should be specially anxious about\nhis mass at such times, both because he will feel the need of it to\nsanctify his holiday, and because in fact being temporarily relieved\nfrom his daily anxieties, he is able to say it with a new freshness\nand devotion.\n\n3. As to Meditation, in most cases one could hardly expect the\nordinary half-hour before mass, and if one's holiday is to be\nsuccessful, one must necessarily ease off some of one's spiritual\nexercises. But there is really no reason for abandoning Meditation\naltogether. A short period, even five or ten minutes, whether as\nthanksgiving after mass, or at some other time of day, will be more\nvaluable than double that time in the ordinary working part of the\nyear. About this, as about other exercises, it is important to have a\nrule, and to keep to it, save in exceptional circumstances; but the\nexact nature of the rule depends so largely on the personal equation\nthat one hesitates to put forward any suggestion too definitely.\n\n4. The Divine Office of course cannot be omitted for any ordinary\nreason. But it can easily be put into odd times--more easily during a\nholiday than during the working part of the year--or left to the end\nof the day, when it is said without devotion, as fast as possible,\nsimply to get it over. The loss by this is the greater from the very\nfact that the Divine Office is the one devotion which is binding even\nin holiday season. A definite rule is a help in such cases, and if the\nburden of anticipating Matins and Lauds is felt too great, a rule, for\nexample, to finish to the end of Prime before midday ought not to be\ntoo difficult to be usually kept. But what precise rule to make, like\nmany other details, must depend on the nature of our holiday and where\nwe find ourselves. At least let there be some rule to aim at: don't\nlet it be simply a case of drifting.\n\nThis, therefore, suggests a few words as to what kind of a holiday a\npriest will take. In many cases this settles itself by the exigencies\nof circumstances. He may have a home to go to, with parents still\nliving, or he may have relatives and friends to stay with. In other\ncases he may be able to go for a regular tour with a fellow priest or\nother companion. The former class of case is perhaps more difficult to\nregulate, as the priest has to accommodate himself to the ways of\nthose with whom he is staying. A general rule to be well occupied all\nday, and to retire in good time so as to be fresh for the next day, is\nvery easily written down: to keep it without making oneself\nuncongenial requires both determination and tact. Often it may be\npossible to regulate one's retirement at night in this way; but\nsometimes it is not, and in such circumstances we have no choice but\nto accept what we find. The rule of occupying ourselves can however\npractically always be kept. The reproach that the English take their\nrecreation sadly--perhaps seriously would be a better word--is really\nan allusion to one of the most favourable sides of our national\ncharacter. To spend the time in aimless lounging--the _dolce far\nniente_ so dear to the typical Italian--is not in itself congenial to\nour nature; yet the habit not infrequently invades our holiday time,\nespecially at the seaside. The description a priest once wrote of\nhimself that he had spent day after day in sitting on the sands, and\ngetting behind-hand in his Office, is typical of a whole class of\nholidays; but by no means of all. One easy way to guard absolutely\nagainst it is to have a carefully chosen holiday book, sufficiently\nlight to recreate, yet entertaining and educative, to produce on any\nday on which we find that, through stress of weather or other cause,\nthere is no definite occupation on hand.\n\nIf a priest is fortunate enough to be able to travel on a regular\ntour, it is unnecessary to point out how fully his time will be\noccupied, provided he takes at least an intelligent interest in what\nhe sees. The effect of travelling is very broadening, for one meets--\neven in one's own country--with customs and surroundings very\ndifferent from those of the particular place in which we live; and the\namount of human history contained in churches and other public\nbuildings and dwelling-houses is very great. Moreover, the effect of\nnatural scenery is always elevating. If--as was possible before the\nwar, and will some day be possible again--a priest can visit Catholic\ncountries, he will find much to be of high spiritual advantage to him.\nIt is often possible to make a pilgrimage to a shrine part of our\nholiday, and thus to unite recreation with high spiritual profit. To\nvisit such places as Lourdes or Ars in France, or Einsiedeln in\nSwitzerland, or Loreto or Genezzano in Italy--to mention only a few\ntypical ones--is not only an interesting experience, but will also be\na source of grace and blessing. One sees Catholic practices freely\ndeveloped, without the restraining influences which the surroundings\nof Protestantism render inevitable here in England. The simple\ndevotion, wholly free from self-consciousness, which one sees joined\nwith such extraordinary fervour in places of pilgrimage, are full of\nelevating effect in ourselves, and the atmosphere of faith among the\npeople all around us is as good as a revelation.\n\nThe shrine at Lourdes is too well known to need any words here. Apart\nfrom any question of miracles--which in fact assume a very secondary\nplace there--the spirit of devotion among the thousands of pilgrims\nfrom all parts of the world, and the absolute contentment of the sick\nwho have been brought from afar, and are often in acute physical pain,\ngive one a picture which one would not have believed to be realisable\nin this world. The surroundings of Ars, again, are of special interest\nfrom a different point of view as bringing us close to the life of a\nreal saint and parish priest, for the date of the cure's death is\nstill within living memory. Then, again, to find a shrine such as\n_Notre Dame des Victoires_ in the midst of such a cosmopolitan city as\nParis, where so much evil is known to be rampant, is instructive and\nedifying. But there is a shrine not a hundred miles from there to\nwhich surely English people should be attracted more than they are:\nthat is, the shrine of St. Edmund of Canterbury, at Pontigny. One of\nthe last of our English saints to be canonised, his life is not\ninferior in interest to that of any of his predecessors. He died in\nexile in France, and by a curious combination of circumstances, the\ngreat Cistercian Abbey Church at Pontigny, where his body is over the\naltar, survived both the dangers of the Huguenots in the sixteenth\ncentury and the great Revolution at the end of the eighteenth, and\nstands to-day almost in the same condition in which St. Edmund knew it\nin 1240. It is really a reproach to English Catholics that so few go\nthere. In recent years, a certain number of High Church Anglicans have\nvisited it. Unfortunately it is in one of the worst parts of France,\nwhere religion languishes; but even there, twice a year--on the feast\nof the Saint in November and that of the Translation of his Relics,\nkept there in Whitsun Week--the massive church is filled with pilgrims\nfrom afar.\n\nBut apart from actual shrines, a priest will find in the atmosphere of\na Catholic country and in the daily life of the people plenty of\nthought on which to build up his own spiritual aspirations. If he says\nmass in good time in the morning, he will find perhaps many people in\nthe church engaged on their own spontaneous devotions. On a Sunday the\nsuccession of mass-goers is continuous; the liturgical services draw\nlarge congregations; and Catholicism seems to be in the very air one\nbreathes. Even in large cities it is a prominent feature; in country\ntowns and villages it pervades the whole life of the people. The idea\nof the Catholicity of the Church is brought home to us when we find\nourselves so manifestly belonging to the same body as these devout\nsouls, and the holiday becomes strengthening to the soul as well as\nthe body.\n\n\n[1] 1 Cor. x. 23.\n\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE XIII\n\nTHE PERIODICAL RETREAT\n\nIN view of the fact that our own synodal law prescribes a Retreat for\nevery priest only every second year, [1] and the new Codex of Canon\nLaw only insists on one every third year, [2] it might appear that\neither one or the other is the limit at which we should aim. Such,\nhowever, is surely not the case. It is true that even though our\nSynodal law still holds--as has been recently decided by the Holy\nSee--no more frequent Retreat is required as of obligation than once\nin two years, and in some countries where there is no special local law,\nthe longer interval--once in three years--may be lawful. Yet, without\nasserting any obligation, the present writer deliberately urges a\nyearly Retreat as the ideal. Wherever circumstances permit it--as in\nIreland or Belgium or elsewhere--this has always been the practice.\nMoreover, the wording both of the synodal law and of the new Codex by\nno means excludes this as the ideal; in each case the word _saltem_,\nor \"at least,\" is joined to the specification of the obligatory\nperiod.\n\nBut it would surely appear that an earnest priest would himself desire\nit. The idea that a Retreat is an irksome duty, to be discharged as\nbest it can, is surely a very inadequate one. It should be a time to\nwhich a priest looks forward with longing, when he can put away his\nwork for a few days, and attend to matters which are in the strictest\nsense personal, and if we may say so, selfish; and in which he may\ncommune with Almighty God in a manner which the hard work of his daily\nlife renders difficult or at times impossible. True the Retreat\ninvolves a serious work and an important Confession, and the renewal\nof many resolutions which have fallen into abeyance. Such a work will\nnot be accomplished without serious effort, and often involves facing\ntrouble and discouragement during its course. A Retreat is by no means\nthe recreation which its name almost implies. But its interest is\nsupreme. It touches all that aspect of life which should be vital to\nus, and it tests our progress in that aspect of our lives which alone\nmatters.\n\nIf the Retreat is to be for us the event which ought to be the centre\nand crown of our year's work, certain conditions must be complied with\nwhich often are not. Let us consider these in detail.\n\nThe first question is when and where to make the Retreat. The Synod\nseems to assume that it will be made by all the diocesan clergy in\ncommon at the time and place provided for by the Bishop. Whether this\nis to be taken strictly or not, has been much discussed; our tradition\nhas been that a priest making a solitary Retreat at a religious house\nsatisfies the obligation, though making a Retreat at one's own house\ndoes not. The new Codex, however, seems in this respect stricter than\nour Synodal Law, and provides definitely for the common clergy Retreat\nunless special exception be made for a just cause by the Bishop\nhimself. Hence it would appear that ordinarily at least every three\nyears the common Retreat is obligatory.\n\nBut apart from strict obligation, there is every reason that, except\nin special circumstances, the priests should join in the common\ndiocesan Retreat. There are indeed some persons who find it a\ndifficulty, and who can make a better Retreat in private; but they are\nthe exception. At any rate, it is necessary for the Bishop to give\nleave in any particular case. In making application, at least let the\npriest bear in mind that at best he will lose the graces attached to\nthe corporate act, and will not be helping his fellow clergy as he\nmight be, so that only a strong reason should induce him to apply; for\nvery naturally a Bishop would be slow to give a negative answer. On\nthe other hand, a priest who willingly conforms brings consolation to\nhis Bishop and helps in the sanctification of the diocesan clergy as a\nwhole.\n\nIn order to bring about the possibility of a general Retreat, it is\nsometimes necessary that the parish services should be curtailed or\nomitted during that week. Let there be no hesitation in, if necessary,\nreducing the week-day masses or omitting them altogether or omitting\nevening services. The people will fully enter into the reason,\nprovided it is explained to them, and will willingly join in prayer\nfor the blessing of God on the Retreat.\n\nIn the next place, if we properly esteem the Retreat, and wish to draw\ndown God's blessing on it, we should show our esteem by making up our\nminds in good time beforehand that we will make it. The experience of\na curate returning from his holiday on a Saturday, discussing his\nplans on Sunday, and making up his mind not till Monday morning that\nhe will join the diocesan Retreat would seem to indicate his view of\nit as a disagreeable duty to be performed because it is ordered. No\none would treat an important or attractive work in this way. What\nwonder that he arrives on the scene without thought or preparation,\nspends most of the Tuesday resting himself, and finds he is slack on\nthe remaining two and a half days? And can he wonder that the special\ngraces to be looked for come to him only sparingly? Even those who\nhave made up their minds to join the Retreat, often spend the whole of\nMonday at their ordinary work, till the very last minute before\nstarting; or even arrive late and thus emphasise a bad beginning.\n\"Before prayer, prepare thy soul,\" says the holy writer, \"and be not\nas a man that tempteth God.\" [3] One who is in earnest about what is\nbefore him will break off his ordinary occupation, except such as is\nabsolutely necessary, all Monday, so as to be ready to begin the work\nof the Retreat in the evening.\n\nSimilar conditions hold as to the ending of the Retreat. Formerly this\nwas not till the Saturday morning after the general Communion. In\nrecent years, however, it has been customary to finish early in the\nafternoon of Friday. But a considerable number do not stop for the\nend, and we often see a priest who thinks nothing of returning from\nhis holiday at a late hour, sometimes not far from midnight, at the\nend of a Retreat wishing to be back \"in good time\" and cutting short\nthe Retreat accordingly. Or sometimes a priest will return early on\nthe plea of doing his Friday evening service. This ought not to be so,\nand a rule against doing any pastoral work whatever on the Friday\nwould remove the temptation.\n\nWith respect to the body of the Retreat, let each one determine what\nis necessary for himself to go through it with real profit. Certainly\na mere attendance at the discourses is not enough. The work to be done\nis a real and active one. The Jesuits realise this, and they do not\nusually use the word Retreat, which connotes its negative side, but\nprefer to use the expression \"spiritual exercises,\" which connotes its\npositive side. In truth, the _ennui_ of the Retreat, from which so\nmany suffer, comes from looking exclusively on the negative side. If\nwe are properly active and at work, the time will pass rapidly and\nwill appear all too short. This is for the modern priest undoubtedly\nfar the most important aspect of the Retreat. It is indeed a help to\nkeep silence and to be away from one's work and distractions, but that\nwill not benefit us unless we have other work to replace that which we\nhave put away. And this will save us from the temptation to use our\ntime in preparing sermons or instructions for the next Sunday or two.\nLet it be remembered that even for the following one we shall have the\nSaturday at our disposal for such preparation.\n\nThe keeping of silence indeed, helpful though it may be, is not of the\nessence of the Retreat. Considering how seldom we meet our fellow\nclergy, some intercourse will be in many ways desirable. It is well,\nif possible, to regulate this, and the modern custom of having an\nhour's recreation at the dinner has much to recommend it.\n\nA word may be added on the importance of regularity at all the\nexercises. It may be that some of them appeal to our personal taste\nless than others. Some persons prefer saying their Office in private\nin place of the public recitation usual in clergy retreats. Others are\ninclined to avoid the Stations of the Cross; and so on. But surely a\nRetreat is of all times one in which to sink our personal tastes, so\nas to join in the corporate act. The same applies to taking our share\nin the community duties, such as reading in Refectory, or serving at\nthe altar, or taking special part such as e.g. a Lesson in the Office,\nor other duties. To avoid them is a sign of selfishness. To be willing\nto sacrifice oneself in small ways is a powerful means to bring a\nblessing on the Retreat and the example to others will not be thrown\naway.\n\nThe old habit of refraining from saying mass during the Retreat has\nnow almost gone out, and Benediction is commonly given not only at the\nconclusion as formerly but every evening of the Retreat. It would seem\nhardly too much to ask that at least one mass be set aside for the\nintentions of the Retreat for ourselves and others; for considering\nhow much of the success of the year's work depends on the Retreat\nbeing made well, every effort should be made to secure God's blessing\non it. In the Society of Jesus, it is part of the rule after the first\nyears of priesthood to devote a whole year to a second novitiate:\nthose doing so are known as tertians, as they are going through a\nthird year as novices. It is easy to see what special value such\nadditional novitiate may have, after the priest has been sufficiently\nlong time in active work to realise and appreciate its value. We may\nwell envy them in having this opportunity of entering into themselves\nso thoroughly. The only thing that we seculars have to compare with it\nis the periodical Retreat. It is little enough, lasting only a few\ndays compared with a whole year of the tertianship. Let us learn to\nesteem that little more, and to make it the opportunity of overhauling\nour whole life, and making good resolutions for the future. Let us\nalways remember that some day we shall make a Retreat which will prove\nto be our last serious preparation for death. We have been frequent\nwitnesses of this in others: one day it will happen to ourselves. Yet\nwhen we are making the Retreat, we probably shall not know such to be\nthe case. We may be well and strong, and with a good prospect of life\nbefore us: yet God may know that this is our last great opportunity.\nSurely this thought, if no other, should stimulate us to make the\nRetreat well, so as not to have it ever said against us that we had\nthe power given us of making a full preparation for our last passage,\nbut omitted to use it.\n\n\n[1] \"Singuli sacerdotes teneantur, quoque saltem biennio, exercitia\nspiritualia quae Episcopus providebit, adire\" (_I. Westmonast_, xxiv.\n7).\n\n[2] \"Omnes sacerdotes saeculares debent tertio saltem anno\nspirituajibus exercitiis, per tempus a proprio Ordinario\ndeterminandum, in pia aliqua religiosave domo, ab eodem designata\nvacare; neque ab eis quisquam eximatur, nisi in casu particulari,\njusta de causa, ac de expressa ejusdem Ordinarii licentia\" (Canon\n126).\n\n[3] Ecclus. xviii. 23.\n\n\n\nCONFERENCE XIV\n\nTHE PRIEST IN SICKNESS--AND IN DEATH\n\nIT is a well-known fact that St. Bernard preferred to found a\nmonastery in a not too healthy locality, as he considered it better\nfor a religious life that the monks should not be in too robust\nhealth. This is often given as a reason why the Cistercian monasteries\nare frequently built in specially relaxing climates. Since those days,\nhowever, the world has greatly changed. Human nature is not so tough\nas it then was; mortifications which then were common would now be\nimpossible. Even during the last century things have changed in this\nrespect. It is only a century and a quarter ago that Bishop Talbot was\nblamed by many for a Lenten Indult which included meat three times a\nweek for the first four weeks, and limited the consecutive abstinence\nto Passiontide, or the last fortnight. The last of those who used to\nobserve a \"black Lent\" (as it was called) died almost within living\nmemory. Yet amidst modern conditions nothing approaching a \"black\nLent\" could possibly be enacted, and even the very modified fast of\nthe modern Indults finds very few observers. It is probably the case\nto-day that valetudinarianism and small ailments are a greater\nhindrance to spirituality than robustness, and that the highest aim of\nmortification should be that amount which keeps the body most fit for\nwork--to do which consistently requires a considerable degree of\nmortification.\n\nNevertheless, we may well regret the decay of the old spirit of\nhardiness since even a generation ago. The feeling which gave rise to\nthe phrase \"grin and bear it\" was very excellent, and seems now almost\nextinct. The modern tendency is all to the magnification of small\nailments, to constant remedies, and scientific self-indulgence which\npeople justify to themselves under the name of hygiene. It is no\nexaggeration to say that the degree to which it is carried is out of\nkeeping with the hardiness of the Christian vocation, and that many\npersons lose much of the sanctifying effect of their small ills by\ncontinually seeking alleviation. The sale of patent medicines is\nimmense, as we can see from the extent to which they are advertised.\n\nIt may well be doubted if this spirit does not defeat its own end. The\nstate of mind engendered by continually taking one's temperature, and\nseeking a cure--probably drinking medicines--whenever it is a degree\ntoo high or a degree too low is bad for both mind and body: the\n_malade imaginaire_ often ends by becoming positively ill, and picking\nup every infection of which he is so much afraid. After all, the best\ncure for many small ailments is to leave them alone and not bother\nabout them.\n\nIn the case of a priest, however, we should put it on a higher ground.\nHe has to be at the service of his people. An indisposition will not\ndispense him from saying mass on Sunday unless it is sufficiently\nsevere to incapacitate him. Nor will it exempt him from attending a\nsick call even in rough weather. A soldier would be ashamed of giving\nin to a small ailment and of injuring his fighting power. He would\ndespise one who did so for his softness. Much more should a priest be\nabove such effeminacy. Often he is so: many a modern priest fights\nconsistently against general weak health, with such success that his\nweakness is not known or suspected. In such an effort God will give us\nvery special help. But, alas! one can call to mind also instances of\nthose who systematically nurse their ailments, and seriously injure\ntheir constitution by continually taking drugs and applying remedies.\n\nBefore we can learn how to consecrate our real illnesses let us learn\nto despise and fight against small ailments. It is by no means always\neasy, and there will no doubt be times when one is on the verge of\nactual breakdown; but so long as we have the real power, we should\nfight strenuously against them. To lie in bed in the morning, still\nmore to spend a day in bed, should be the last resort, only when\nimperiously necessary. Once we give way, we shall find reasons\nincreasingly often to induce us to repeat the act. On the other hand,\nany work we do under the handicap of headache or indigestion or\nrheumatic pains or other troublesome weakness will, we may be sure, be\nspecially blessed by Almighty God.\n\nTurning now to the time of severe illness, it is easy to say, but it\nis none the less true, that it may be a great grace; and like other\ngraces, if neglected, it becomes the reverse. We are speaking of\ncourse of a grave and serious illness, whether or not there be danger\nto life. One of the most remarkable phenomena in our strangely complex\nnature is the sudden and complete way in which our most acute\nanxieties disappear at the touch of sickness. This at once leaves the\nground free for our own thoughts, and if we have been leading a really\nbusy life, we can find many things which we have never had time to\nthink out. Nevertheless, we cannot do much thinking at the beginning,\nthrough sheer mental debility, even apart from the pain which often\naccompanies the illness. The tendency is strong simply to give our\nthoughts to our illness and its remedies, and the small incidents\nwhich surround a sick-bed. Those who have looked forward to reviewing\ntheir lives and setting their consciences in order during their last\nillness should be warned that experience shows such thoughts to be\nuncongenial at that time. Notwithstanding the way in which time hangs,\nespecially at night, one is least of all inclined to fill it by\nserious examination of conscience, or for the matter of that by any\nform of prayer. Our obligations to Meditation, or the like, or even to\nreciting the Divine Office, have suddenly ceased, and the danger is\nthat we may take an absolutely material view of our condition, and\ncease all relations with Almighty God, looking forward only vaguely to\nresuming them when we are convalescent. A few considerations on\nillness as a time of grace may be useful at such a season.\n\nIn the first place, it has often been pointed out that a time of\nsickness is the one period of life when we know for certain that we\nare doing God's will; for we have no alternative. Nor is it any answer\nto say that this illness may be the punishment of sin, either by the\nlaw of nature or the providence of God. For even if this were so, the\nsin is over and has passed out of our control; it can never be\nrecalled. Whatever our past failings, or whatever God's providence in\nour regard, _hic et nunc_ He wills this illness, and we have no power\nof contravening His will. It therefore follows that we have the\nopportunity for a supreme act of virtue in accepting it willingly and\neven thanking God for sending it to us, which is an act which requires\nlittle effort, and to one who habitually listens to the voice of God,\nis of no great difficulty. Nor is it incompatible with hope or prayer\nfor speedy recovery, should it be God's will, provided that we\nwillingly embrace the illness so long as God sends it to us. This\nsimple act of conformity will go far to sanctify the whole illness.\n\nNext, as to the use of our time. This often settles itself, at least\nin the graver stages of the illness. But we sometimes allow it to\nsettle itself too easily. Certainly we cannot meditate or say Office,\nor do spiritual reading. But we can and should do something. The\nrosary, for example, is a prayer which does not need much exertion,\nand if the five mysteries are too much, we can do one mystery at a\ntime. We can also get others to help us by saying occasional simple\nprayers which we can follow. And occasional mental ejaculatory prayer\nis always possible. Of course any such exercise must be only\noccasional: during a great part of the day we shall not be thinking\ndirectly of Almighty God; but as in health our ordinary exercises\nsanctify the whole day, so in sickness very much shorter ones have a\nsimilar far-reaching effect.\n\nHere it may be permitted to put in a strong plea, if a nurse is\nwanted, to have a Catholic one. Many priests would prefer a nun, even\nthough her medical qualifications were less than those of a\nprofessional nurse--which is far from being always the case. If,\nhowever, we yield so far as to have a lay woman, at least let her be\none of our faith. It is astonishing how frequently even good Catholics\nimpose a non-Catholic nurse on a priest on the plea that nursing has\nnothing to do with religion. There is really no reason to do so.\nPlenty of Catholic nurses are to be had. It means some little\nadditional trouble, but that is all. Yet the gain in comfort to the\nsick man is immense; in the case of a mental illness it is supreme.\nThere are scores of little ways of daily occurrence in which the\nCatholic nurse may help the devotion of the priest, and minister to\nhis spiritual as well as his bodily wants. There is indeed something\nunseemly in the question of whether the patient is fit to say mass or\nnot being regulated by a person to whom the mass means nothing, and\nwho cannot possibly estimate the reasons in favour of that consolation\nbeing granted. In the meantime, the poor patient is helpless. He has\nto accept what others provide for him, and has no power to make his\nown wish felt, for in such matters an invalid is often treated with\nstrange want of consideration. In many cases the hired nurse thinks\nlittle or nothing of the patient's feelings, so long as she keeps the\nsick room neat from a professional point of view, and so pleases the\ndoctor. \"I must not let you get bed-sores,\" a nurse once said, \"or\nwhat will the doctor say?\" The question \"What will the patient say?\"\ndid not seem to enter her head; yet he was the chief person concerned.\n\nEvery serious illness has a crisis--sometimes of considerable\nduration--which is followed either by a recovery more or less gradual,\nor by a gradual sinking. Let us follow the former alternative first.\n\nOne of the predominant thoughts in time of serious illness is looking\nback on the days of one's health and strength with a feeling of regret\nfor the poor use we made of them, and a longing to have the same\nadvantage again, if but for a short time, to make some small amends\nfor past shortcomings, or at least to show our goodwill. Canon\nKeatinge tells a touching story of a dying priest, one of whose arms\nhad been amputated, who assured him that he would willingly part with\nthe other arm also, if only he could have the privilege of saying mass\nonce more. [1] Yet he had spent forty years of his life as a\nmissionary, during which time he had said mass almost every day. A\nfeeling somewhat akin to this is probably within the memory of most\npriests who have passed through serious illness. The recollection of\ntheir past priestly life passes through their mind, and they long to\nhave once again the opportunities which formerly were so plentiful.\nWhen real convalescence has set in, they know that God in His mercy\nhas heard their prayer, and they are to have another chance. This\nthought cannot but fill them with joy.\n\nYet convalescence is a time which requires in some sense greater\npatience than the crisis of an illness. It is essential for its\ncompletion that work shall not be resumed too soon. In grave illness\nnature asserts itself irresistibly in this matter, the very suffering\nand weakness overshadowing some of the tedium and _ennui_. But in the\ncase of convalescence, it devolves on us to put voluntarily restraint\non ourselves, and to omit doing many things which singly might not be\nbeyond our actual physical power, but which would retard or even\nprevent proper recovery. It devolves on us to \"kill time\" in a manner\nthat in health would be almost sinful. Literature of the lightest is\nindulged in, and wisely so, and any pastime such as a game of cards\ncomes as a relief, when one longs to be once more up and doing. Day\nafter day--week after week--we have to occupy ourselves as best we\ncan, while our nature slowly recuperates itself. It is real wisdom to\nwait patiently for the day of our emancipation from the control of\ndoctor and nurse. We may have the consolation of saying mass, if not\nevery day, at least frequently; and the time may come when we may\nresume our Office, though until we are sure that we are able to say it\nall, we are not bound to say any. Then perhaps we may be well enough\nto be taken to the seaside or other health resort to complete the\ncure, and this forms a little excitement: but soon that dies down, in\nthe heavy atmosphere of doing nothing, and we require all the stimulus\nwe can get for our patience.\n\nAt length, however, the day dawns when we go forth, pronounced well\nenough for work, and we resume that life which we once thought had\nfinally passed from us. Then is the time to gather up the fruits of\nour illness, and to show by the spirit with which we now approach our\nduties that the lesson of illness has not been lost on us. No feeling\nof high spirits at the events of life such as starting for a holiday\nor the prospect of enjoyment will compare with the feeling of elation\nat finding oneself once more leading the life of a priest in the midst\nof his people.\n\nBut not all illness leads to convalescence, and if the malady is\ntaking a serious turn, the priest of all men has a right to be told.\nHe has been so long familiar with death-beds that even the feeling of\nshock, so often put forward as a plea for concealing an invalid's\nstate, is not to be apprehended in his case; and he knows as no one\nelse does how to prepare himself to face this last passage. Alas! very\noften he has to do it for himself; he has frequently been the support\nand consolation of others, but he may live in a lonely mission and\nfind no one to minister to him in his own time of need. He may have to\ngo without Confession or Extreme Unction, and only secure Viaticum by\ngetting a layman to open the Tabernacle, and bring up the Ciborium so\nthat the patient can communicate himself. Or he may live in a populous\ncity and have the same assistance as others. But in either case he has\nno reason for discouragement. If he has given his whole life to the\nservice of his Divine Master, he need have no fear but that in return\nhe will have the grace of dying as a priest should.\n\nOnce a priest always a priest, and there is no time in life when a\nman's priesthood is more prominent than when he lies on his bed of\ndeath, while his parishioners going about their daily duties remember\nhim continually in their prayers. Thus truly they are grouped around\nhim in spirit, as the sheep around their shepherd. \"I know mine and\nmine know Me.\" He has been intimate with them, has shown how he knows\nand sympathises with their difficulties and trials and dangers; now it\nis their turn to show that they also know him, perhaps better than he\nknows himself, which they show by the very certainty they entertain as\nto his final lot. It may be that the priest himself, knowing his own\nfrailty, is tempted to despondency as he lies so helpless on his bed\nof suffering. He may be as the man who \"revolved these things within\nhimself, saying: 'If I did but know that I should still persevere';\nand presently he heard an answer from God; 'And if thou didst know\nthis, what wouldst thou do? Do now what thou wouldst then do, and thou\nshalt be very secure.' And immediately being comforted and\nstrengthened, he committed himself to the divine will and his anxious\nwavering ceased.\" [2] What more can the sick man do, but \"commit\nhimself to the divine will\"? Then in union with that divine will,\nsurrounded by those praying around him, he goes forth from the world\nas a priest of God, this being the concluding act of his priestly\nvocation.\n\n\n[1] _The Priest, etc._, p. 60.\n\n[2] _Imitation_, I, xxv. 2.\n\n\n\n  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN\n\n  BY WM. BRENDON AND SON, LTD. PLYMOUTH\n\n\n\nThe Westminster Library.\n\nA Series of Manuals for Catholic Priests and Students.\n\nEdited by\n\nThe Right Rev. BERNARD WARD, Bishop of Brentwood, and the Rev. HERBERT\nTHURSTON, S.J.\n\n_Crown 8vo_.\n\nTHE HOLY EUCHARIST.\n\nBy the Right Rev. JOHN CUTHBERT HEDLEY, O.S.B., late Bishop of\nNewport. 4s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE MASS: a Study of the Roman Liturgy.\n\nBy the Rev. ADRIAN FORTESCUE, D.D. 7s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE NEW PSALTER AND ITS USE.\n\nBy the Rev. E. H. BURTON, D.D., President of St. Edmund's College,\nWare, and the Rev. EDWARD MYERS, M.A. 4s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE PRIEST'S STUDIES.\n\nBy the Very Rev. THOMAS SCANNELL, D.D., late Canon of Southward\nCathedral. 4s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE TRADITION OF SCRIPTURE: its Origin, Authority and Interpretation.\n\nBy the Very Rev. WILLIAM BARRY, D.D., Canon of Birmingham. 4s. 6d.\nnet.\n\nTHE LEGENDS OF THE SAINTS: An Introduction to Hagiography.\n\nFrom the French of Pere H. DELEHAYE, S.J., Bollandist. Translated\nby Mrs. V. M. CRAWFORD. 4s. net.\n\nNON-CATHOLIC DENOMINATIONS.\n\nBy the Very Rev. Monsignor ROBERT HUGH\nBENSON. 4s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE EARLY CHURCH IN THE LIGHT OF THE MONUMENTS.\n\nA Study in Christian Archaeology. By the Very Rev. Monsignor A.\nS. BARNES, M.A. With Illustrations. 5s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE PRIEST AND SOCIAL ACTION.\n\nBy the Rev. CHARLES PLATER, S.J., M.A., Professor of Psychology at St.\nMary's Hall, Stonyhurst. With an Introduction by the BISHOP OF\nNORTHAMPTON. 4s. 6d. net.\n\nTHE PRIESTLY VOCATION.\n\nBy the Right Rev. BERNARD WARD, Bishop of Brentwood.\n\n\n---\n\nLONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.\n\nLONDON, NEW YORK, BOMBAY, CALCUTTA AND MADRAS.","title":"The Priestly Vocation: A Series of Fourteen Conferences Addressed to the Secular Clergy","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":56610}