Sub diversis speciebus,
Signis tantum et non rebus,
Latent res eximiæ;
Caro cibus, Sanguis potus;
Manet tamen Christus totus

Sub utrâque specie.

A sumente non concisus,
Non confractus, non divisus,
Integer accipitur:
Sumit unus, sumunt mille,
Quantum isti, tantum ille;

Nec sumtus consumitur.
Sumunt boni, sumunt mali,
Sorte tamen inæquali

Vitæ vel interitûs :
Mors est malis, vita bonis;
Vide, paris sumtionis

Quàm sit dispar exitus.
Fracto demum Sacramento,
Ne vacilles, sed memento
Tantum esse sub fragmento,
Quantum toto tegitur:
Nulla rei fit scissura,
Signi tantum fit fractura,
Quâ nec status nec statura
Signati minuitur.
Ecce panis angelorum
Factus cibus viatorum ;
Verè panis filiorum,

Non mittendus canibus:
In figuris præsignatur,
Cum Isaac immolatur,
Agnus Paschæ deputatur,

Datur manna patribus.
Bone Pastor, Panis vere,
Jesu, nostri miserere;
Tu nos pasce, nos tuere,
Tu nos bona fac videre

In terrâ viventium.
Tu, qui cuncta scis et vales,
Qui nos pascis hic mortales,
Tuos ibi commensales,
Cohæredes et sodales

Fac sanctorum civium.

Amen. Alleluja.

Here beneath these signs are hidden
Priceless things, to sense forbidden;

Signs, not things, are all we see;
Flesh from bread, and Blood from wine;
Yet is Christ, in either sign,

All entire, confess'd to be.
They too, who of Him partake,
Sever not, nor rend, nor break,

But entire, their Lord receive.
Whether one or thousands eat,
All receive the self-same meat,

Nor the less for others leave.
Both the wicked and the good
Eat of this celestial Food,

But with ends how opposite!
Here 'tis life, and there 'tis death;
The same, yet issuing to each

In a difference infinite.
Nor a single doubt retain,
When they break the Host in twain,
But that in each part remains

What was in the whole before;
Since the simple sign alone
Suffers change in state or form,
The Signified remaining one

And the same for evermore.
Lo! upon the altar lies,
Hidden deep from human eyes,
Bread of angels from the skies,

Made the food of mortal man:
Children's meat to dogs denied,
In old types foresignified;
In the manna heav'n-supplied,

Isaac, and the Paschal Lamb.
Jesu! Shepherd of the sheep!
Thou thy flock in safety keep.
Living Bread! thy life supply;
Strengthen us, or else we die;

Fill us with celestial grace:
Thou who feedest us below!
Source of all we have or know!
Grant that with thy Saints above,
Sitting at the feast of love,

We may see Thee face to face.

Rites and Ceremonies.

I. THE REASONABLENESS OF RELIGIOUS CEREMONIAL.

I AM going to make an observation, which, I doubt not, many of my readers will have made for themselves, and it is this: that there are people in the world who write and talk as if they knew a great deal of things, about which they really know very little. I suppose most persons who are, as the French say, au fait of a subject, that is, who have a professional, matter-of-fact knowledge of things pertaining to their own state or mode of life, have been led to wonder at the coolness with which people who have not that sort of knowledge, undertake to hazard bold assertions on such subjects, or at any rate have seen through the shallowness of arguments, and the incorrectness of statements, which are commonly adventured upon by writers who aim rather at effect than at truth. But I know of one subject only, about which people write and talk, not merely without knowing all or much, but absolutely without knowing any thing at all, about it; and that subject is the Catholic religion. There are people who write in the public papers, for instance, about matters of trade or finance, who, I doubt not, seem to the experienced merchant or the clever financier, exceedingly ill-informed; but still they use language, which even a stranger can see implies that they have at least a smattering of knowledge on the point. But I read and hear things said about the Catholic religion, which convince me that the writers and speakers have not the faintest idea on the subject; and I hope such people, if (as is not very likely) this tract shall fall into their hands, and if (as is still less likely) they shall find, to use a common phrase, that the cap fits them,-I hope, I say, they will pardon me if I add, that in very sober seriousness I am almost staggered

at their unblushing effrontery. I myself who write am not nearly so humble as I could wish to be; but really, if I were to make a speech about our colonial policy, or to talk about "bulls and bears," and other mysteries of the Stock Exchange, as these gentlemen do about our religion, I should feel myself very inadequately punished by being put in the pillory.

On any other subject than the Catholic Church, men's sense of shame is enough to keep them from talking at random. But the critics of our religion have an advantage peculiarly their own, in the deep ignorance of the public whom they address. Their statements pass current in England, like Hamlet's madness, because other people are about as wise as themselves. If a man talks nonsense about public affairs, he is put down, or put out of the way, because there are on all hands information and good sense enough to detect and expose him. But to abuse Catholics in a Protestant country is no difficult matter; for all ears are ready to drink in the abuse, and all equally deaf to the defence. However, I am sure that even as a Protestant country, England is a great way behind all others; and that neither in Prussia, Holland, Switzerland, still less in America, would people venture to parade their uncommon ignorance about religion, as they do in our own favoured land.

These remarks seem to me peculiarly applicable in the matter of this paper―our Rites and Ceremonies. These, from their very nature, are more apt to be misunderstood than any thing else belonging to the Church, and for this very reason should be more cautiously handled. The rites and ceremonies of religion are of course intended, not for strangers, but for members of the Church. From their very nature, they do not, like pictures, or speeches in parliament, make their meaning intelligible to all capacities: they hint, they imply, they "stand for" things, as arithmetical figures do; or, like hieroglyphics, they paint great subjects to the eye of the initiated, while from the vulgar their meaning is concealed. Of course, on the whole, they do express honour to some person or other; but for this very reason, just as that person is not in the mind or heart of the observer, will