Donahoe's Magazine, Volume 15, No. 4, April, 1886

This majestic symbolism is demonstrated by the prayers of the blessing. And first those cries of gladness, those outbursts of joy, and that lavishness of praise on the part of the deacon, as he stands before that waxen pillar, we now understand, knowing that He whom the candle represents, the Divine Light, is the one to whom they are addressed.

The deacon begins with a lyric exordium. Let those who understand Latin read in the text itself that magnificent prayer of the Exultet; the translation cannot entirely reproduce its beauties:

"Let now the heavenly troop of angels rejoice; let the divine mysteries be joyfully celebrated, and let the sacred trumpet proclaim the victory of so great a king. Let the earth rejoice, illumined with such resplendent rays, and let the whole world feel that the darkness is driven from it by the splendor of the Eternal King. Let the church, our mother, also rejoice, being adorned by the rays of so great a light, and let this temple resound with the joyful acclamations of the people. Wherefore, most beloved brethren, who are now present at the admirable brightness of this holy light, I beseech you to invoke with me the mercy of the Almighty God. That He, who hath been pleased without merit of mine, to admit me into the number of the Levites will, by an infusion of His light upon me enable me to celebrate worthily the praise of this taper."

No, this candle would not merit as much praise if it did not represent the Christ. The Son alone, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, is deserving of praise.

"It is truly meet and just to proclaim with all the affections of our heart and soul, and with the sound of our voice, the invisible God the Father Almighty, and His only-begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, who paid for us to His eternal Father the debt of Adam, and by His own blood cancelled the guilt contracted by original sin."

As though to give a reason for his songs of glory, the deacon hastens to proclaim aloud the coming of Easter: "For this is the Paschal solemnity in which the true Lamb is slain, by whose blood the doors of the faithful are consecrated." The Hebrews celebrated the ancient Pasch at night. Standing, with loins girded and staves in their hands, they awaited the passing of the Lord. This expectation at night the faithful renew on Holy Saturday. St. Jerome tells us in fact that it was an Apostolic custom maintained by the Christians of his day to remain united in prayer until midnight, awaiting the coming of Christ. But another mystery is included in that night, and, in its mute language, the candle unites with the deacon in reminding us that in the Old Testament there was another night and another pillar. The Lord, it is said in Exodus, went before the sons of Israel, when they went forth from Egypt, by day in a pillar of cloud, to show them the way, and during the night in a pillar of fire, to be their guide both day and night. Now, this pillar of cloud like the pillar of wax still unlighted, is the humanity of Christ, the cloud in which Divine wisdom has placed its throne: thronus meus in columna nubis (Eccl. xxiv.). But this candle will soon be lighted by contact with the new fire, as the humanity of Jesus Christ will recover life by the approach of the fire of the Divinity. Then, indeed, is this a night of exultation for the Church when she sees coming to her, triumphant over death, the Divine Spouse whom she bewailed but recently, buried in the darkness of the tomb. So with what complacency does not the deacon celebrate this thousand-fold happy night. He hails it as the dawn of the glorious mystery of the Resurrection:

"This is the night in which Thou formerly broughtest forth our forefathers, the children of Israel, out of Egypt, leading them dry-foot through the Red Sea. This, then, is the night which dissipated the darkness of sin by the light of the pillar. This is the night which now delivers all over the world those that believe in Christ from the vices of the world and the darkness of sin, restores them to grace, and clothes them with sanctity." This is the night in which Christ broke the chains of death, and ascended conqueror from hell. Naught would it have profited us to be born, if we were not redeemed.

"O how admirable is Thy goodness towards us! O how inestimable is Thy excess of love! To redeem the slave, Thou hast given up the Son. O truly necessary sin of Adam, which the death of Christ has blotted out! O happy fault that merited such and so great a Redeemer!

"O truly blessed night! which alone deserved to know the time and hour when Christ rose again from hell. This is the night of which it is written: And the night shall be as light as day; and the night shineth upon me in my pleasures. Therefore the sanctification of this night blots out crimes, washes away sins, and restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to the sorrowful. It banishes enmities, produces concord, and humbles empires."

The deacon then fixes in the candle, in the form of a cross, the five grains of incense which were previously blessed at the same time as the new fire, a visible image of the five wounds made in the flesh of the Crucified. Liturgists also show us in this incense the perfumes and spices which Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome bought to embalm Jesus (St. Mark xvi. 1).

"Receive, O holy Father, receive on this night the evening sacrifice which Thy holy Church, by the hands of her ministers, presents to Thee, in this solemn oblation of this wax candle, made out of the labor of bees."

The Passion was truly the evening sacrifice, according to David's prophetic word, Elevatio manuum mearum sacrificium vespertinum (Ps. cxl. 3), because it was in the evening of the world, as at the decline of the day, that the Divine Victim expired, uttering a loud cry to heaven, after having declared that all was consummated!

It was in the evening, too, ad auram post meridiem (Gen. iii. 8), at the hour when a gentle wind arises, when through the earthly paradise resounded the voice of the Lord: "Adam, where art thou?" At the very hour when He found Adam guilty of disobedience, four thousand years afterwards the Father called His Son to Him and found the new Adam obedient, and obedient even to the death of the cross.

"Sed jam nunc columnæ hujus præconia novimus," the deacon continues to sing. "And now we know the excellence of this pillar, which the sparkling fire lights for the honor of God."

The sacred minister then lights the Paschal Candle. He lights it with the fire which was recently struck from the stone, that is, from Christ, the Corner-Stone who, beaten by the rods of the scourging, produced in us the divine spark of love pre-eminent of the Holy Ghost. This is the fire which the Son came to bring upon the earth with the desire to see it enkindle the world. Lighted and fed by the wood of the cross, its divine flame is fanned by the breath of the Holy Ghost. This new fire is also the new doctrine of the Saviour, the mandatum novum of which St. John speaks.

The candle thus lighted is thenceforth the figure of the risen Saviour, as we have said. The humanity of Christ lay, too, extinguished in the shades of death; but, behold, beneath the burning breath of the divinity, it has suddenly recovered life, and Jesus emerges from the night of the tomb all resplendent with light.

The image of the Son is now revealed to us more completely in the symbolism of the candle. According to the interpretations of the liturgists, the three elements of the candle are not without meaning. The wax formed from the juice of the flowers by the bees, which antiquity always regarded as the type of virginity, signifies the virginal flesh of the Incarnate Word. Mary, without ceasing to be a virgin, Mary, the industrious bee, says the Abbot Rupert, has brought us forth a God in the flesh, like honey in wax: Maria nobis puerum in carne quasi mel in cera protulit.[2 - Ruperti abbatis, Duitiensis, de divinis officiis. (L. C. VI., c. 29.)] St. Anselm teaches us to behold in the wick, which is in the inside of the candle, the soul of Jesus Christ, and His Divinity in the light which burns in the upper portion.

If the candle is the image of the Word made flesh, it was with reason that on it was inscribed the current year counting from the Incarnation. This inscription, of which the ancient liturgists tell, indicates that Christ is like the ancient year, the great year, the year full of days, of which the twelve apostles are the months; the elect, the days; and the neophytes, the hours. We see in the Abbot Rupert that this inscription was engraved in the wax itself in the form of a cross, and Durand of Mende speaks of a tablet which was fastened against the candle as Pilate's inscription was placed on the cross: Jesus Nazarenus Rex Judæorum.

The Paschal Candle will serve to light the neophytes to the holy waters of baptism, as the pillar of fire guided the Hebrews on their going-forth from Egypt through the waters of the Red Sea to the Promised Land; a twofold light, which is for us the emblem of "that light which enlighteneth every man coming into this world," of Him who is the way, the truth, and the life, and who, after having delivered them from the bondage of Satan, after having led them through the waters of baptism, guides His people to the land of the living, the true Promised Land.

An ancient author remarks that it was not at the first or at the second stopping-place of the Hebrews, but at the third, that the pillar went before them, and he applies this triple encampment of Ramatha, Segor, and Ethan to the three days of the Passion, the sepulture, and the resurrection. Ramatha (commotio tineæ) well represents the day of the Passion, when the Jews, after having torn the flesh of Jesus, like the moth, attack His garments, His seamless tunic, endeavoring to rend the unity of the Church. But death was the road by which He passed from Ramatha to Segor (tabernaculum), that is, into the tent of the tomb. The tent is for the soldier: like an indomitable warrior, Christ in the tomb despoils His vanquished foe. Finally, the day of the resurrection was the day of arrival in Ethan (firmum vel signa ejus), because, thenceforth, death has no sting for Him, mors ultra non dominabitur illi, and also because it was as a sign for the Apostles when He appeared to them radiant after the night of the tomb, illumining them like the pillar of fire.

But let us return to the deacon's prayers. He thus continues the chant which he had broken off to light the candle: —

"This fire, though now divided, suffers no loss from the communication of its light, because it is fed by the melted wax, produced by the bee, to make this precious taper."

Then the lamps hanging in the church are lighted. This lighting takes place only some time after that of the Paschal Candle, because the knowledge of the resurrection was diffused only successively. Finally, the deacon concludes the blessing in these words:

"O truly blessed light! which plundered the Egyptians and enriched the Hebrews. A night in which heaven is united to earth, and the Divine to the human! We beseech Thee, therefore, O Lord, let this candle, consecrated to the honor of Thy name, continue burning to dissipate the darkness of this night, and, being accepted as a sweet odor, be united with the celestial lights. Let the morning-star find it burning. That Morning-star, I mean, which never sets; which, being returned from hell, shone with brightness on mankind."

By the mouth of the deacon, therefore, the Church praises in the Paschal Candle the Christ-light. Borne before the catechumens, this candle denotes that it is by Christ Jesus their darkness is dispelled. So, too, it is from the divine torch of His doctrine that we all must get light. We are invited to it by that other ceremony in use in certain churches, according to the testimony of many ancient liturgists. Durand of Mende and the Abbot Rupert tell us that a second candle was lighted from the Paschal Candle, and from it all the others were lighted. Christ is the light above all others; but He projects His rays upon the Apostles to reflect from them upon the whole Church. St. Augustine tells us of that twofold lighting of the Church by Christ and the Apostles when he explains to Januarius why the faithful should receive communion fasting, although the Apostles received after the Last Supper or evening meal: Namque Salvator, quo vehementius commendarit mysterii illius altitudinem, ultimum hoc infigeri voluit cordibus et memoriæ discipulorum a quibus ad passionem digressurus erat; et ideo non præcipit quo deinceps ordine sumeretur, ut apostoli per quos ecclesias dispositurus erat servarent hunc locum. The Saviour, the more to fill the minds and hearts of His disciples with the greatness of this sacrament, would have it the last act which he was to perform with them before separating from them for His Passion. He Himself did not arrange the order thenceforth to be followed in the reception of that sacrament. Why? In order to leave that question to the Apostles. Hence he calls them the light of the world, as He calls Himself: Ego sum lux mundi. Vos estis lux mundi.

Finally to the right and the left of these two candles were sometimes placed two others lighted from the Paschal Candle. Let us here admire the saints of the Old and the New Testament. They all, in fact, received the divine irradiations of the Sun of Justice, the former through the doctrine of the Prophets, the latter through that of the Apostles.

Such is the significance of the blessing of the Paschal Candle, in which the Church delights to display all the pomp of her inspired language! What a lesson in this ceremony! a lesson at which some, perhaps, will be greatly astonished, because they do not know that the ceremonies of the liturgy are a continual preaching.

Jam columnæ hujus præconia novimus, yes, we now know what that pillar of wax, itself the image of the pillar of old, denotes: it is Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ everywhere. He is the true pillar, a pillar of cloud when, through the Holy Ghost, He protects us with His shadow against the devouring fire of the passions, and, at the same time, a pillar of fire, because His doctrine is the light which enlightens us through the darkness of the light of this world.

Now, for the true Catholic, Jesus Christ lives in the Roman Pontiff. Our Holy Father the Pope is the depositary of the light of truth. Never must we lose sight of that bright beacon; but above all in the hour of storm, when only fitful gleams are seen, it is for every Catholic a strict duty to turn towards Him, under penalty of sinking in the darkness without being able to find the haven.

This lesson, especially in this Paschal time, may be applied to all, although in degrees proportioned to the condition of each. And who has not more or less need of approaching God? Woe to him who will not have the beneficent shadows and the salutary lights of the Christ! he will perish in his infirmity. Thinking that he can see far from the light, he will remain in darkness, while by drawing nigh to Him the blind will recover sight. Cur non ergo et nobis Christus columna? let us say with St. Augustine, Quia et rectus et firmus, et fulciens infirmitatem nostram per noctem lucens, et per diem non lucens, et ut qui non vident videant, et qui vident cæcci fiant! (S. Aug., in libro contra Faustum, xii.)

[This will be followed by the translation of an article on the Agnus Dei, made from the wax of the Paschal Candle.]

Mgr. Ridel, the holy missionary bishop of Corea, lately gone to receive the reward of long privation and cruel sufferings endured for the faith, was indebted to his pious mother for his vocation as a missionary. One day, whilst he was yet a mere child playing at her knee, he saw on the table a beautiful blue book, – a volume of the "Annals of the Propagation of the Faith." – "Mamma," said the child, "are there any stories in that book?" – "Yes, my child: it is full of stories about missionaries." – "What are missionaries, mamma?" – "Missionaries are priests who go to far-off countries, amongst savage races, to teach them how to save their souls." – "Then I am going to be a missionary, too, and tell them how to get to heaven with us."

Our New Cardinal

The Catholic Review: – The Archbishop of New York, on Wednesday morning, February 10th, received a cablegram from Rome, announcing that most Rev. James Gibbons, Archbishop of Baltimore, would be created Cardinal at the next Consistory. The biglietto, or official letter, from the Cardinal Secretary of State announcing the creation of his Eminence, was mailed to him on February 8th. This cablegram, although not official, is authentic. It is not unexpected. It certainly is no surprise to those who were privileged to hear the graceful address in which the senior of the American hierarchy, the venerable Archbishop Kenrick, of St. Louis, thanked Archbishop Gibbons for the courtesy, patience and industry with which, as Apostolic-Delegate, he conducted and brought to a close the affairs of the Plenary Council at Baltimore. In chosen and significant words, such as one in Archbishop Kenrick's position might use in anticipating an expected act of the Supreme Pontiff, he predicted the future and increased honors of the Apostolic-Delegate, and in such a way as to indicate that they would be most grateful to his brothers and associates. Nor are they less a matter of pride and congratulation to the entire body of the faithful. No doubt we are all anxious to see many of the other great cities of America honored, as are smaller and less vigorous dioceses in Europe; and with increasing years, most likely these honors will come. No doubt the captious are sometimes found to say that Baltimore, first in years, is very far behind in works, in the great race of Catholic American progress. But there has never been found one so unjust as to deny to the gentle, zealous and apostolic Archbishop of Baltimore all the virtues that bring honor to the chief priesthood of the Church. One little work of his, "The Faith of Our Fathers," will perpetuate his apostolate as long as Protestantism exists. His has been indeed a democratic promotion. From the humblest and least important of the missionary vicariates of the Church in America, he has steadily moved onward, growing with every step in mental, moral and ecclesiastical grandeur, until he stood at the head of the episcopate of America. His stepping-stone was, always and only, his unquestionable merit and services. Can any sect show as fair a field for merit as the new Cardinal's career proves is to be found in the Church of Christ? It opens and keeps open to intellect and virtue the path to its highest honors. The transcendent honor of the Roman Cardinalate, which thus comes once more to an American Archbishop, will be prized by his Eminence's countrymen of all religious faiths, as giving them a share in the glories of a Council that has never been more illustrious than in those days, when Leo XIII. has opened its doors to the first and leading minds of the Universal Church, without consideration of distance, race or continent.

His Birth, Education, etc

Most Reverend James Gibbons was born in Baltimore, in 1836. His parents were Irish, and, when a boy, he was taken to Ireland, where he remained several years. At the age of seventeen he returned to America, and soon after entered St. Charles' College, near Ellicott City, Md., to commence his studies for the priesthood. Here he remained four years, and was then transferred to St. Mary's Seminary, Baltimore, to pursue the study of theology and philosophy. He was ordained in 1860, his first mission being the obscure parish of St. Bridget's, Baltimore. Archbishop Spalding soon discovered his merits, and he transferred him to the Cathedral and made him his secretary. His rise was rapid and brilliant. In 1868 he was made Vicar Apostolic of North Carolina, with the rank of bishop, and in a few years he was elected to the See of Richmond. When Archbishop Bayley died, in 1875, Right Rev. Dr. Gibbons was appointed his successor in the See of Baltimore. Thus, at the early age of forty he had attained the highest ecclesiastical position in the United States, for Baltimore is the oldest, and, therefore, the primary American See. To it belongs the highest dignity in the American Catholic Church. The archbishops of Baltimore have always been men of distinguished ability. The immediate predecessor of Archbishop Gibbons was James Roosevelt Bayley, a member of a prominent New York family. He was the nephew of Mother Seton, the founder of the Order of Sisters of Charity in the United States. His predecessor was the learned Spalding, whose elegant voice was conspicuous in the great Council of the Vatican.

Some Incidents of His Life

While Archbishop Gibbons presided over the small country parish of Elkridge, near Baltimore, an incident occurred which gave him a large measure of local fame. Small-pox broke out in the village, and a general exodus immediately followed. An old negro man at the point of death was deserted by his family, who left him neither food nor medicines. Fr. Gibbons heard of the case, hastened to the bedside of the dying man and remained with him to the last. Nor was this all. No one could be procured to carry the corpse to the grave. Fr. Gibbons, seeing no other alternative, determined to act as undertaker as well as minister; so, having obtained a coffin, he placed the body therein, dragged it as well as he could to the grave, performed the funeral rites and buried it. His career as vicar of North Carolina was filled with occurrences equally as noteworthy, but of a humorous rather than pathetic nature. He still talks with zest of his all-day rides on horseback through the North Carolina pines; of nights spent in the flea-covered log cabins of the negroes, whose best accommodations consisted of a corn-husk bed, meals spread out on the floor and gourds for drinking cups; of savory dinners of fat bacon and hoe cakes, and of other accompaniments of missionary life among the negroes of that region.

There is one incident in the primate's life which he seldom touches on, but which caused immense amusement at the time it occurred. While Bishop of Richmond, he was the defendant in a suit relating to some church property. When he was called to the witness stand, the plaintiff's lawyer, a distinguished legal luminary, who still shines in Richmond, after vain endeavors to involve the witness in contradictions, struck on a plan which he thought would annoy the bishop. He thereupon questioned Mr. Gibbons' right to the title of bishop of Richmond, and called on him to prove his claim to the office. The defendant's lawyer, of course, objected to this as irrelevant; but the bishop, with a quiet smile, said he would comply with the request if allowed a half-hour to produce the necessary papers. This was allowed. The bishop left the court room and returned in twenty minutes with a document which he proceeded to read with great solemnity, all the more solemn as the paper was all in Latin. The plaintiff's lawyer pretended to take notes industriously, bowing his head once in a while as if in acquiescence, and seeming perfectly convinced at the end. When the reading was finished, he announced that the Papal Bulls just read were entirely satisfactory, at the same time apologizing for his expressed doubts. The next day it leaked out that the bishop, unable to find the Papal Bulls at his residence, had brought to court and read a Latin essay on Pope Leo the Great, written by one of the ecclesiastical students, and forwarded by the president of the college as a specimen of the young man's skill in Latin composition. That smart lawyer has not heard the last of it yet.

As an Author and Orator

Archbishop Gibbons is the author of one volume, "The Faith of Our Fathers," which has met with a larger sale than any Catholic book published in America. More than one hundred thousand copies have been sold since its publication in 1877. The work is made up chiefly of simple sermons on the doctrines of Catholicity, delivered while on the mission in North Carolina.

As a pulpit orator, the primate has many superiors in the hierarchy. He has neither an impressive presence nor a good voice. He seldom attempts elaborate discourses. He is at his best in simple appeals to the heart, and to this fact is due his missionary success. Some of his fellow-bishops may have greater power to convince the intellect, but none can touch the feelings more deeply.

The Irish as Conspirators

In a recent issue of the Nineteenth Century, a magazine published in London, is an article by Mr. Arnold Forster, in which the following statement was used:

"Irishmen were at the bottom of the Mollie Maguire conspiracy in Pennsylvania; Irishmen plotted against the officials and the Chinese in San Francisco; the Tammany ring was largely supported by Irish citizens, and even the Boston police were tampered with by Irish politicians of that city." To controvert this view, and particularly the reflection upon the Boston police, the Republic newspaper of Boston sent a circular letter to a number of prominent men, requesting such denials as they might see fit to furnish. Governor Robinson writes: "I have already taken occasion to contradict emphatically an assertion said to have been recently made in England that the act to establish a board of police for the city of Boston, passed by the legislature of Massachusetts in 1885, was necessitated by the threatening and disorderly character and conduct of the Irish people in Boston. In all the conferences, arguments and declarations about that act, before its introduction, or while it was under consideration in the legislature, no intimation of that kind ever reached me, and I do not believe it to be true. Nor is there, in my opinion, any more foundation for the statement to which you call my attention. Sharp political controversies arise; but happily no question of race or nationality aggravates the differences among our people upon public matters."

Charles A. Dana, editor of New York Sun, says: "I cannot now recall the name of a single citizen of Irish birth who was known as a supporter of the Tammany ring; and it is notorious that the head of it, the late William M. Tweed, was a full-blooded American. At the same time, one of the most conspicuous of its adversaries, the late Charles O'Conor, though born in this country, was thoroughly Irish in heart and sympathy. Another distinguished enemy of Mr. Tweed's ring was his successor as the leader of Tammany Hall, the present Mr. John Kelly, a man of Irish descent, and a more determined foe of every kind of corruption and of public dishonesty has never lived."

Gen. Butler thus replies: "I can certainly give you the most thorough denial of the slanders upon the Irishmen by the article of the Nineteenth Century. I have known the Irish-Americans intimately ever since my boyhood, and they are as good, loyal people as any in the world, and as soldiers among the very best."

Congressman Curtin, of Pennsylvania, speaks relative to the Mollie Maguire conspiracy as follows: "I can speak relative to the Mollie Maguire conspiracy in Pennsylvania. Some of the men engaged in it were Irishmen; some were not. The race to which the criminals belonged had nothing to do with the crime or its punishment; nor should the fact of the existence of the Mollie Maguire conspiracy, which was a crime perpetrated by citizens of Pennsylvania against the good order of that Commonwealth and punished by its officers, have any effect on the aspirations of the Irish people, who were innocent of participation in it, and who had no sympathy with it."

Ex-Mayor Palmer, of Boston, thus defends our police force: "Mr. Forster accuses the Boston police of being corrupted by Irish politicians. It is sufficient to say of this that no Bostonian charges it, or believes it. Boston is proud of her police force, and boasts of it too strongly and too frequently, our neighbors think, for good taste. But whatever may be thought of our egotism in this respect, it is well known and understood by our sister cities that Boston claims to have the best police force in the world. The Irish-American in Boston is a loyal citizen, proud of the city, proud of the State, and proud of the whole country; and his heart's desire and prayer to God is, that his motherland may become as free and prosperous and happy as these United States. The trouble with Mr. Forster, as he shows himself in the Nineteenth Century, is that Parnell is on top, and Forster is afraid he will stay there. Gladstone wants to give Ireland land reform and home government. Herein he believes is true statesmanship. In this way he knows that every interest of the empire, even its integrity, would be best subserved. But the Queen and the Tories oppose him and may defeat him. Let us hope that the hypocritical lament of Arnold Forster in the Nineteenth Century is the last wail of a lost cause. Or will he tell us next that ten thousand howling Englishmen in Trafalgar Square is another Irish conspiracy?"

Congressman Lovering writes: "The wholesale charges against Irishmen in America will fall flat here as an exaggeration, and a distortion of facts, in a vain attempt to charge against the Irish race the misdoings of individuals, who may have chanced to have been Irishmen, and the effort is entitled to all the contempt it deserves."