itself so widely, and sunk so deeply into the minds of even of many well educated persons, that they consider material symbolism, rather in the light of an exercise for the mind of the curious enquirer or antiquary, than as a language at any time capable of being popularly intelligible. How fallacious this opinion is, may be easily understood by a reference to those remains of Catholic symbolism which are yet preserved. Who does not know the spiritual meaning of every article of the priest's vestments, or of the altar stone and its five crosses, or of the lights used during the office of Tenebræ in Holy week, or, in fact, of the numerous ceremonies (which are symbols) in the administration of the sacraments, and in all the offices of the Catholic Church? “It should be observed, moreover,” says a learned and pious writer,[1] “that the spirit of the middle ages was peculiarly favourable to this method, so that the symbols adopted in the ritual of the Church, must have then possessed extraordinary charms in the estimation of all ranks of society. No object, or occasion, seemed too triffling to furnish matter for the exercise of their disposition to view things in the light of symbols. Ives of Chartres, receiving a comb as a present from his dear friend, Gerard, in reply to him, interprets it as a emblem which can teach him the duties of his episcopal office. The laity evince the same inclination; men that were not all tongue, but deeds and truth, would thus in the common intercourse of life, in dumb significance proclaim their thoughts, and, as Shakspeare witnesseth in the Temple Garden, give, in the plucking of a red rose, or a white, an answer to the summons of Plantagenet. Dom Claude de Vert, a learned Benedictine, in his work upon the ceremonies of the Church, offered a simple and natural explanation of most of them. Longuet, Archbishop of Sens, published a reply, and assigned to them a wholly symbolical origin. Both of these views, no doubt, were just. As Duns Scotus remarks of the sacred Scriptures, the divine offices of the Catholic Church, have a literal, and a spiritual or mystic sense; which last in three-fold division, was either allegorical, tropological, or anagogical, referring either to what was to be believed, performed, or hoped, and sometimes one sign or word, like that of the cross, or the name of Jerusalem comprised all—a literal sense, signifying an event, or a city; a tropological, denoting trust and sanctity; an allegorical denoting the Church militant; and an anagogical, signifying the triumphant Church. No one who loves to study the doctrine of perception, in reference to the beauties of poetry and art, can be insensible to the care evinced by the Church, to press into her service, everything which can bring unity into a visible form; and, indeed, the great charm and might of poetry over human life, is never more fully felt, than when it employs consecrated figures and symbols to express the mystery of our existance in the world of wishes, and the ideas of anticipation which console it. That the symbolic sense was intended in the ceremonies of faith, is proved from the ancient fathers.”
“But, it was not in words alone,” continues the same author, “that the enigmatical expression of the Church was conveyed. Her ceremonies also were high symbols, demonstrating things of which the mystic sense, and invisible truth, are known by divine illumination to the angelic spirits. Philosophers and poets will find no works more rich in profound and beautiful thoughts, than those which are designed to develope, and explain the ecclesiastical symbols, written during the middle ages, by such men as Hugo, and Richard of St. Victor, Durandus, Durante, Remy of Auxene, Horore St. Autun, St. Bruno of Aste, Martne, and many others.
David Lamenth Saul and Jonathan.
“And David made this kind of lamentation over Saul and over Jonathan his son, and he said: Consider, O Israel, for them that are dead, wounded on thy high places. The illustrious of Israel are slain upon the mountains; how are the valiant fallen.”—II. Kings. 17, 18, 19.
Mourn, mourn, oh! hapless Israel,
Mourn, for thy mighty Slain,
Whose bones bestrew the mountain and the plain!
Mourn for the fallen Brave,
The great, heroic ones, who dwell
Now in the shadowy chambers of the grave.
How are the Valiant overthrown!
Oh, tell it not in Geth!
Oh, breathe not there the sad tale of their death!
And let there be no voice
To publish it in Ascalón,
Lest the Uncircumcised thereof rejoice!
On you, ye mountains of Gilbó,
No more may rain-showers fall,
For on your heights was lost the shield of Saul!
On your unhallowed soil
That noble monarch was laid low—
He, the Anointed King, the Sanctified with oil!
From quaffing blood, from hewing flesh,
The sword of Saul ne'er shrank!
How often Jonathan's sharp arrows drank
The life-stream of his foes!
How oft came down their blades afresh
With weighty and exterminating blows!
Daughters of Israel, weep and mourn!
Weep for the True and Bold,
Who gave you glittering ornaments of gold,
And clad you in rich array!
How has the land been left forlorn,
Since Jonathan and Saul have passed away!
Lovely were Jonathan and Saul,
Comely, and brave, and fair,
And Death could not divide this peerless pair.
Swift eagles on their flight,
Fierce and strong lions loosed from thrall,
Were those whose beds are on the hills to-night!
Alas! my soul is trouble-tost!
Dear wert thou unto me,
My brother Jonathan! my love for thee
Passed Woman's love by far!
How is the land left lorn and lost,
For broken lie the weapons of its war!
Note to Calderon's “St. Patrick's Purgatory.”
The following lines were inadvertently omitted from their proper place—they should follow the second line of Ludovico Enio's history, page 48, second col.
Great Egerlo, king of Ireland, I
Am Ludovico Enio—a Christian also—
In this do Patrick and myself agree
And differ, we being Christians both,
And yet as opposite as good from evil.
But for the faith which I sincerely hold.
(So greatly do I estimate its worth)
I would lay down a hundred thousand lives—
Bear witness, thou, all-seeing Lord and God!
Dublin: Printed by John Mullany, 9, Anglesea-street, and Published by James Duffy, 10, Wellington-quay—1st March, 1847
- ↑ Mr. Kenelm Digby.
