Chapter IV

I myself will take of the marrow of the high cedar,
and will set it: on the high mountains of Israel will I
plant it; and it shall become a great cedar, and every
fowl shall make its nest under the branches thereof.

EZEKIEL.

Proceeding forward, the emperor and his companions perceived an altar raised at the end of the subterranean gallery, and illumined by torches, amidst which were arranged bunches of flowers. Upon the altar was spread a snow-white cloth, fringed with gold, and before a small shrine of variegated marble, which was erected on the middle of the altar, stood a richly chased golden chalice, covered by a paten of the same material. Over both was disposed a veil of brocade, embroidered with silver.

The cavern chapel was nearly filled with shepherds and peasants, dressed out in their holiday costume, for it happened to be a festival of the Virgin. They were all kneeling, and waiting with profound devotion for the commencement of the service. Aquaviva, and his two companions, appeared prostrate at the foot of the altar, habited in vestments of brocade like that with which the chalice was covered, the figure of a cross being worked in silver on the backs of the sacred garments. Aquaviva wore a mitre of silver tissue; his assistants were bare-headed.

Rising from the attitude of silent supplication, which they had for some minutes preserved, they stood and prayed aloud that God might send them his light and truth, and pardon them their sins, that so they might enter his sanctuary with pure minds. They appealed to the Virgin, and to the saints by whom the eternal throne is surrounded, to mediate in their behalf.

A beautiful boy, clad in a muslin surplice, then placed in Aquaviva’s hand a golden censer, filled with kindled frankincense, with which he fumed the altar. Having again intreated the mercy of God, he paused a moment, and entoned in a sweet voice, tremulous with piety, that hymn of joy, of which the heavenly messengers, who proclaimed the arrival of the Messiah, pronounced the first words--“Glory to the God on high, and on earth peace to men of good will.”

The assembly took up the anthem, and in a burst of exclamation declared their adhesion to the faith of the Redeemer. Him they praised, and blessed, and adored--him they acknowledged to be the Christ, come to take away the sins of the world. To him, sitting in majesty at the right hand of the Father, they prayed for protection, because he is the Holy One, who, with the Spirit, is most high in the glory of the Omnipotent.

A splendidly illuminated missal being then placed on a stand, Monserrate read from it a selection of verses from the Canticles, each of which bore some allusion to the Messiah. He was the graceful fawn leaping on the mountains, and skipping over the hills;--the lover peeping through the lattices, and calling on his beautiful one to come, for that the winter was past, the rain was gone, the flowers appeared in the land, it was the time of pruning, the voice of the turtle-dove was heard, the fig-tree had put forth her green figs, and the vines in flower yielded their delicious fragrance. “Arise, my beautiful one, and come, shew me thy face; let thy voice sound in my ear, for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.”

“Such is the affectionate language,” said the venerable prelate, when he afterwards explained these verses to his simple and confiding audience, “in which the Messiah is represented as addressing his church, after the difficulties attending its first establishment were surmounted. Ages of opposition and suffering were her winter; but the spring-day of her hopes, the promise of her universal triumph, was already at hand.”

These verses were followed by a history of the Virgin, during a visit which she paid to one of her relatives in the hill-country of Juda, to announce the tidings which an angel brought her, that the Spirit of the Most High should overshadow her, and that she should bring forth a Son. Her cousin, to whom she communicated this intelligence, was a woman far advanced in years; but in her womb lived one who was to be the predecessor of the Messiah, to proclaim his approach, to fill the valley, to level the mountain before him, and to prepare the path in which he should go. That infant, enshrined though he was, heard the Virgin’s voice of salutation, and leaped with joy. Her aged hostess blessed her, and the rejoicing maiden, inspired by the sublimity and sanctity of her office, poured forth her soul in a hymn to the mighty God, who regarded the humility of his handmaid, and entitled her to be called “blessed” by all future generations.

The audience listened to these truths, and to the explanations of Aquaviva, with earnest attention, and the most lively marks of pleasure, feeling like travellers who had been long lost in a wilderness, and at length rescued from despair by the arrival of a guide, who pointed out the way of which they were in search.

Their hearts were in their voices, when they joined the prelate in again plighting their allegiance to the Creator of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible--to the Redeemer, the “Light of light,” and to the Holy Spirit by whom he became incarnate--commemorating, at the same time, his crucifixion, his resurrection, his ascension; and expressing their belief that he will come again to earth, to judge those whom he shall find living, and all the nations of the dead who shall rise from their tombs at the summons of the dread archangel.

It was the great object of the rite, at which they were now assembled, to prepare them for that awful day, and to propitiate the Deity through the sacrifice about to be offered--an unspotted host, which the suppliant prelate with upraised hands tendered to Heaven, not only for his own sins, and for those of all present, but for all christians, whether passing or passed through the stages of this life. With the host the prelate offered also wine and water--mysterious symbols of the union of the Divinity with human nature--raising the chalice as an odour of sweetness for the salvation of the whole world.

The progress of the rite became more and more solemn as it advanced. The censer was again filled with burning frankincense, and brought by that beautiful boy to the prelate, who again fumed the altar, and prayed that through the intercession of Michael the archangel, and of all the elect standing round the eternal throne, the incense might be blessed, and that, ascending to that throne, it might invoke upon the worshippers the benedictions of the Most High.

The prelate then washed his hands among the “innocent”--and well they might be so called, a cluster of boys all robed in white, one of whom kneeling held a silver basin, while a second poured water on the prelate’s fingers from a ewer of the same material. A third presented him with a napkin fringed with gold.

Turning once more to the altar, and placing himself in the attitude of a high-priest, filling the most sublime of all human stations, he called upon the prostrate assembly to elevate their hearts to God, and to give Him thanks, for it was truly fit and just that they should at all times, and in all places, express their gratitude to the Eternal, whom the angels and the archangels, the cherubim and the seraphim, and the whole host of heaven, never ceased to proclaim as the holy God, with whose glory the heavens and the earth were filled--in whose praise unnumbered worlds, rolling through the oceans of space, resounded with alleluias.

Many of the saints were then called upon by name--the Virgin Mother--the glorious apostles--the armies of heroic martyrs, who had sealed their faith by their heart’s blood--Peter and Paul, and John and Damian--and the whole court of heaven, to give their aid on this occasion, that the oblation tendered to the Supreme Father for his human family might be accepted, and be converted into the body and blood of the Redeemer.

The awful words of consecration, pronounced in a low solemn voice, being breathed upon the host and chalice, they were held up, through clouds of incense, to the adoration of the people, who, in profound silence struck their breasts, filled with gratitude and wonder that so great a God should visit them, and that too under a veil suitable to human vision--and protecting it from being overwhelmed by the living splendour of his glory!

It was an affectionate thought, to choose the moment after this act, for uttering a prayer for parents, relations, friends, and all christians, without exception, who had departed from this life; and while the Redeemer was still present, to intreat that he would grant them a place of refreshment, light, and peace. Nor was it less appropriate, to offer up at such a time a fervent orison to God, couched in the simple language which the Messiah had himself framed, entreating that earth might be made to emulate heaven in blessing the name of the Most High, and in executing his will; that he would protect all those who called upon that sacred name, and forgive them as they forgave those who offended them.

The lamb thus offered for the living and the dead being consumed, hymns of thanksgiving followed;--in these the hermit joined with a degree of enthusiasm, which attested his admiration of a faith that appeared at once to have touched his soul with its light, and to have captivated his heart by the divine love for mankind it disclosed through every expression of its beautiful ritual.

“Oh, sire!” he exclaimed, when as they were returning from this scene, the emperor questioned him upon the mystery of the sacrifice; “do not ask my understanding to explain matters altogether above my comprehension. Can this be a human conception? Could any intellect, informed merely as yours or mine might be, however pregnant with knowledge, however matured by experience, have thought of such doctrines as those delivered by the Messiah; or have planned a sacrifice such as he has directed his followers to offer?

“What is man? An insect living on a planet that is but as a mole-hill to the Himalas. What do I understand even of what goes on under my own eye? Can I tell you how the acorn becomes the spreading oak?--how the wretched looking worm, that moves itself with difficulty along the earth, by-and-by sports in celestial colours upon double wings through the skies?--how the rain of winter becomes the wine of autumn?---the dew of to-night the milk and honey of to-morrow? I break a fragment of a rock, and I behold in it a creature full of life. Can I tell you how it has slept there for thousands of years without dying? I take up a drop of water, and I behold it teeming with a world of creatures of its own. Can I tell you how or why they came there; for what purpose they have received the most perfect organization which their wants can require? I listen to the zephyr with delight,--to the tempest with admiration,--to the thunder with awe. Can I say whence they come? Can I measure the Power which tempers the one to the unshorn lamb, and renders it music to the human ear? Can I check the storm or arrest the lightning, and ask them to explain to me the mysteries that overwhelm my mind, when I think of the worlds I am to see when I shake off this clay by which my spirit is incumbered?

“Fool! It was my madness once to suppose that I could quell the elemental tumults which sometimes break out amongst these mountains; that I could count the stars, and calculate their influence upon the destinies of mankind, as if men were the objects for whom those vast worlds have been summoned to existence! I tremble at my inconceivable presumption. I bow to the Supreme One henceforth. I am scarcely a child in his presence. A child!--yes! his child--his creature,--for whom he sent his own best beloved to this my dwelling. I have found the truth, which the stars had failed to teach me--the peace which this world could never give me--the hope, the certainty, if I but endeavour to merit it, which no other worship could afford me, of mingling my voice with those alleluias which I can almost hear as I speak, swelling to the throne of light from all parts of the universe.”