The Pontiff and the Painter and Parta humano generi

As he composed his teaching document for October in the year 1901, Pope Leo XIII clearly felt that something had been achieved. After a pontificate in which he had each year issued a document encouraging the use of the Holy Rosary, in preparation annually for the Rosary month of October, "grato et iucundo perfundimur consolationis sensu"! His Holiness had a feeling, in September 1901, that the Rosary was, indeed, being used more and more.

And Leo XIII had objective evidence for this feeling. The Bishop of Tarbes, which had Lourdes within its boundaries, was creating a great Rosary Basilica in which each of the Fifteen Mysteries was to have an altar in its honour. 

Pope Leo was a clever and an able man. And a man of charm. The moment at which, in his nineties, he writes Parta humano generi is almost exactly the time when Philip de Laszlo painted the spectacular 'Budapest' portrait of the pontiff, which was such a triumph when it visited London in 2004: the quietly gracious smile; the long fingers in thoughtful repose; the penetrating black eyes. (It was to be awarded the Grand Gold Medal at the Paris International Exhibition in 1900.) De Laszlo records some of the topics about which the Pontiff discoursed during the sittings: " a great variety of subjects: political, religious, social, artistic and scientific questions, and also about Hungary ... I can say I have never met a man whose innermost feelings were revealed so expressively, and who would be more deserving a model to be studied by an artist."

How much more fortunate are some epochs, in their Roman Pontiffs, than others are!

Surely, we must sympathise with the Pope Leo's enthusiastic engagement with the Most Holy Rosary. Anybody, but especially those of us brought up on the magic of Fr Hope Patten's Anglican Shrine at Walsingham, which also possessed its fifeen altars for its fifteen mysteries, must feel our loss of the Rosary orientation in the present Catholic set-up. If that great barn of a 'Chapel of Reconciliation' were to be broken up by, perhaps, the insertion of internal screens, a design providing places for Fifteen Altars for fifteen simultaneous private Masses offered by fifteen priests, would not be beyond the wit of man, or of woman.

Pope Leo rejoiced, in 1901, that there were so many more Rosary sodalities, so much more Marian piety. But there were clouds, he reveals, even on his horizon. In the Pyrenaean passes where S Dominic had set the 'prima incunabula sancti Rosarii', there is a new ... Albigensian heresy! A 'Perniciosa lues [contagious disease]'. It has simply changed its name! "serpitque iterum per eas regiones" Yes; 'serpit' does mean what it sounds like! This new Albigensian heresy 'infects with the foulness of contagion and contaminates Christian peoples, dragging them to wretched disaster'. Surely, he feels, our Lady will smash, cut off, the multiple necks of the wicked hydra [remember that Leo XIII, Papa Pecci, was a classicist; author of Office hymns including O lux; Sacra iam.] which was prowling round all of Europe ...

Whom did Pope Leo, in the year 1901, have in mind? Was there really a revival of Albigensianism? Or did he mean Modernism? Or did he have in mind the laicite of his contemporary France (he mentions the persecution of the religious orders)? 

For us in our own time, it is not difficult to fill in such gaps. In modern European Society, we have so many Hydra's Heads ... of transgenderism and of self-devised identies and of sexual promiscuity and so much else ... actually encouraged. Within the Church herself, there are the sick and sickly disorders of Bergoglianism.

Here be Hydras-a-plenty! Surely, part of the answer should be Rosaries-a-plenty! The incisive blade of the Sharp Lady who "cunctas haereses sola interimit in universo mundo" ... that's what the Rosary truly is!

Vigils

 Until the Wreckovation of the Roman rite, tomorrow, of course, was the Vigil of All the Saints ... or of all the Hallows, if your idiolect is even older. Or Hallow E'en for the real archaisers among you. It still is, of course, in the Book of Common Prayer. (I have, incidentally, used this passage previously. But the rest of this post is pretty virgin stuff.)

In what follows, Mr Vincent is a college tutor hosting a breakfast; I do not think he was sympathetic to the Ritualist Movement ... He is trying to be funny, but JHN is also, I suspect, making the point that all those admirably 'Catholic' directions in the Prayer Book, to which the Ritualists delightedly pointed, had become obsolete.

"At this moment the door opened, and in came the manciple with the dinner paper, which Mr Vincent had formally to run his eye over. 'Watkins,' he said, giving it back to him, 'I almost think today is one of the Fasts of the Church. Go and look, Watkins, and bring me word.' The astonished manciple, who had never been sent on such a commission in his whole career before, hastened out of the room, to task his wits how best to fulfil it. The question seemed to strike the company [of undergraduates] as forcibly, for there was a sudden silence, which was succeeded by a shuffling of feet and leave-taking; as if, though they had secured their ham and mutton at breakfast, they did not like to risk their dinner. Watkins returned sooner than could have been expected. He said that Mr Vincent was right; today was 'the feast of the Apostles'. 'The Vigil of St. Peter, you mean, Watkins,' said Mr Vincent; 'I thought so. Then let us have a plain beef steak and a saddle of mutton; no Portugal onions, or current jelly; and some simple pudding, Charlotte pudding, Watkins - that will do.'"

I don't propose to tell you all about the all-night vigils of the ante-nicene Church: I want to make some observations simply about what has been the situation in our own liturgical culture and its more immediate background. So I will quote, next, from the sound old manual Liturgy and Worship, because it dates from 1932 ... almost our own day! 

" ... in the West, vigils developed into a fast kept on the day before certain feasts. In the Roman and Sarum kalendars the vigil-fasts are those before Christmas, Easter, Ascension, Pentecost, Epiphany, St. Matthias, St. John Baptist, St. Peter and St. Paul, St. James, St Laurence, the Assumption, St. Bartholomew, St. Matthew, St. Simon and St. Jude (not Sarum), All Saints, St. Andrew and St Thomas. Late editions of the Sarum Kalendar add Annunciation, Nativity of St. Mary, Michaelmas and (perhaps) Circumcision ... the present Roman regulations ... in England and Wales ... [are] the Vigils of Pentecost, the Assumption, All Saints and Christmas ..."

I wish to make two suggestions. 

(1) I think we should restore the liturgical provisions for the days which precede the celebrations on that Sarum list. I AM NOT SUGGESTING, NECESSARILY, THE DIETARY ARRANGEMENTS. Just the propers as printed in Breviaries and Missals up to the time of Pius XII. 

(2) The restoration of the First Vespers, First Evensongs, at least of what used to be called First class or Second Class Doubles, Greater Doubles: and are now called "Festa".

Six and a half decades as a 'professional' liturgical worshipper have convinced me that it is bad psychology suddenly, with no preparation, to spring liturgical goodies on people. The Purple vestments of Vigil Masses, the suppression of Gloria in excelsis, the introduction of appropriate themes into the texts of the rite, seem to me essential. That's why I desire the restoration of the 'old' Vigils. 

And the same logic points to the restoration of First Vespers.

Neapolis in Cornubia, and the Elimination of Christendom

Sir Keir, leader of the party which currently looks likely to win the next General Election here in Blighty, has announced an ambitious plan of building 'new towns', so as to meet our housing shortage.

This could have interesting consequences. When Pam and I used to drive back from the West Country, we often passed a place called Poundbury. It looks for all the world like a diverse, organically evolved community. Most strikingly, it does not consist of stand-alone suburban units of accommodation, each surrounded by its twee and distancing 'garden'. On the contrary: as in older communities, houses adjoin each other; roads are curved within an irregular plan; building styles differ.

Poundbury is quite new; it was inspired by our present head of state (when he was 'Prince of Wales'), and designed specifically to look 'unmodern'; 'undesigned'; irregular and ... yes ... organic.

When just before the Pandemic we were last in Cornwall, near Newquay [let the reader understand], we found ourselves turning a corner in our car and there, facing us, was ... an Art Deco architectural complex the existence of which we had been totally unaware. 

The reason for our unawareness, of course, was that it was built, not in 1932, but in the 2010s.

Another initiative of Prince Charles.

New Towns could easily be great fun, both for those designing and building them, and those discovering them. An essential precondition for such enjoyment is going to have to be that the Developer doesn't shave every penny of expenditure off his creation. In my childhood, I lived near Frinton, where there was a comparatively small development, 1935, exemplifying all the styles of the Thirties, called 'Park Estate' (not even noticed by Pevsner).

Best known, of course, is the old 'Regency' New Town of Brighton. It was built to a formula, enabling pragmatic expansion and adaptation resulting in  Pevsner's judgement "the terraces of Brighton are on the coarse side, impressive to the hoi polloi [sic] rather than the connoisseur". I am deliriously happy to be one of the polloi. Brighton has grandeur ... and there is wit; consider such a hallmark detail as the 'ammonite' adaptation of the Ionic Capital, introduced by ... Amon Wilds! Visit Brighton and go round and spot them!

And another thing: Brighton's churches are fabulous ... agmen ducit Saint Bartholomew's, which must be one of the half-dozen most remarkable parish churches anywhere in the world. It has the second highest nave in Europe; one priest wrote "It was an unfailing joy to celebrate the High Mass beneath the great red and green baldachino ... The sheer scale of St Bart's was born in upon one when, having sung the Dominus vobiscum from the altar, one waited for several seconds for the response to come from what seemed to be the far side of the horizon but was in fact the choir high in the great gallery."

But each of Prince Charles's two 'royal' neapoleis has this oddity: that neither, I think, has a Church or chapel. 

Did you ever see an old, or an organically-evolved community which had no place of worship? And Prince Charles, Fidei Defensor, was ... is? ... Patron of the "The Prayer Book Society".

Realpolitik, of course, imposes its own constraints. At a time when most ecclesial communities are agonising about what to do with thousands of buildings which nobody wants to go and worship in, adding new ones to the list would need a fair bit of justification. But all the same ... such an absence is a massive inauthenticity; a sweet little chapel could surely ... where there's a will, there's a way ... have been tucked in somewhere. This scrapping of fifteen Christian centuries from our cultural history reminds me of when They tried to impose a 'European Constitution' which leapfrogged straight from Horrid Hadrian to Nasty Napoleon.

I feel a bit the same at Waddesdon. A fine Renaissance French Chateau, in Buckinghamshire, packed full of goodies ... but no chapel. The reason, of course, is that Waddesdon was built and furnished by a member of the extensive, immensely wealthy, Jewish, Rothschild family (time was, when that part of Buckinghamshire was known as Rothschildshire). It is fair to make an allowance.

Better, certainly, chapel-less Waddesdon than nearby Blenheim Palace, which does have a chapel of sorts. But that building is little other than another showcase for a big bit of Rysbrack, and  a soul-less mausoleum for Johnny Churchill, "First Duke of Marlborough", a shameless traitor who turned against his king, sided with invaders, and got the palace as his reward. A few years ago, this 'chapel' was the venue for a display of indecent 'art'.

If I have to choose between a Jewish banker with superb artistic taste, and a venal English Traitor, I know where my preference lies. 

My pen has wandered. But the whole concept of a New Town is, surely, like it or not, exciting, and its challenges intriguing? What do you think?

Stylometricality (2)

Of course, a lot of water has passed under a lot of bridges since 1986. Kenny might well not still subscribe to everything he wrote in the 1980s; advances in computer studies might have damaged his methodology or his conclusions. But I do vividly remember the unwillingness of 'experts' decades ago even to consider Kenny's conclusions. One such expert was still using the arguments, two decades older than those of Kenny, to dismiss the authenticity of certain New Testament texts. I lent him my copy of Kenny ... when he shamefacedly returned it to me, it was quite clear that he had not read it. When a man has spent an academic career integrating certain assumptions into his thinking, writing, and teaching, it becomes extraordinarily difficult for him to break free from ... to concede, even to himself, the dodginess of  ... what he has assumed. That, essentially, was the fate of Kenny's Study. For much of the academic 'New Testament' establishment, the essential inauthenticity of most of the documents they handle is pretty well a Doctrine of Faith.

Kenny's thesis was not fundametalist; he concluded that the 'Epistle to Titus' was not by the same author as the rest of the Pauline Corpus. The importance of Kenny's thesis was that he was open to evidence; he did not need to reach certain conclusions. He had, long since, ceased to preach or to teach Catholic doctrine!

A final detail, which may intrigue some readers.

What about the 'Letter to the Hebrews'?

Here are Kenny's words: "I have expressed no opinion on the relationship of the Epistle to the Hebrews to the Apostle Paul. I have excluded it from the Pauline corpus simply on the grounds that it does not present itself as being Paul's in the way that the other Epistles do. I was in fact interested to note--as the reader no doubt will have done--the surprising number of features in which it resembles the Pauline corpus. Whether this is to be attributed to Pauline authorship or influence, or something called 'epistolary genre', I express no opinion."

When Kenny refers to "the reader", he is referring to those who have carefully perused the many copious tables in A Study, in which he gives the statistical basis of his analyses of the New Testament writings. There are, indeed, pieces of evidence in those tables which might very well cause a certain unease in the mind of students who may have started off with the standard assumptions concerning the authorship of Hebrews.

Kenny was not the first writer to be less than comfortably convinced that Hebrews is unPauline, As early as 1957, Dr W C Wake had pointed out that its final chapter is remarkably like the ending of a Pauline letter.

We simply do not know the varied circumstances which led to the genesis of each of the New Testament documents. Wise Virgins will, in my view, steer clear of dreaming up their own theories and then insisting that these constructions possess the certainties of eternal Dogma. 

But a gentle, civilised agnosticism on certain historical details is not the sort of thing which a doctoral thesis needs.

 

Quickie

 In the collect for today, Friday, Vigil of Ss Simon and Jude, the verb praevenire is used in two different ways. Should we view this as stylish?

Stylometricality (1)

 A few days ago, one of the Catholic papers had a brief article by Dr Anthony Kenny. I found this interesting because of who Kenny is; and because of a book of his own to which he referred. 

Kenny is a lapsed Catholic priest, regarded as one of England's finest philosophical minds. He was Master of Balliol College Oxford, when one of our daughters was an undergraduate there. He chaired a memorable debate between the Archbishop of Canterbury and Dr Dawkins. Unlike many of those who leave the Church or her ministry, he has no hostility towards the Church or the Christian tradition. 

The book he published in 1986, A Stylometric Study of the New Testament, employed modern computer-generated methods to investigate whether certain of the books of the New Testament really are by their ostensible or claimed authors. 

There is background here.

We all, in whatever language we express ourselves, have a certain 'linguistic fingerprint' which can be discerned whatever the subject, content and direction is in the things we write. Elements such as sentence length and structure and the sort of words we use ... and how we use them ... can be analysed. This study is called Stylometry.

In 1966, a writer called A Q Morton had argued on stylometric grounds that most of the so-called letters of S Paul were not written by him. The broader thrust of this assertion implied that certain letters upon which Protestantism is (although erroneously) based are the authentic core of S Paul's teaching; others, more markedly 'Catholic' such as Colossians and Ephesians and the 'Pastoral Epistles', are inauthentic, and might come from as many as six different hands. (Such an approach, of course, fails to take account of those letters which describe themselves as written by S Paul in conjunction with colleagues ... or the influence of secretaries whose own style might have had an effect upon what S Paul dictated to them ... etc.etc..)

Kenny's Study, on the other hand, claimed to show that, despite Morton, "There is no support given ... to the idea that a single group of Epistles (say the four major Tuebingen Epistles) stand out as uniquely comfortable with one another; or that a single group (such as the Pastoral Epistles) stand out as uniquely diverse from the surrounding context. 2 Timothy, one of the commonly rejected Pastoral Epistles, is as near the centre of the constellation as 2 Corinthians, which belongs to the group most widely accepted as authentic ... on the basis of the evidence ... for my part I see no reason to reject the hypothesis that twelve of the Pauline Epistles are the work of a single, unusually versatile author."

Kenny's brief recent article in the popular Catholic press is mainly about the Acts of the Apostles; in it, he accepts that its authorship is the same as that of the Gospel according to S Luke. 

And he includes in his evidence for this assertion 'Stylometric evidence'.

Kenny is now 92 years old; it is interesting and significant that he still is willing to appear in print as the author of the arguments he deployed in the 1980s.

To be concluded. 

The Four presentations of "Saint" Alfred the Great

As far as I can make out, the first presentation of King Alfred as one of the greatest-ever Englishman was in the time of King Henry VI; a time when, under royal auspices, royal models of kingship were very much the intellectual fashion.

The second such period was the Victorian era, when Englishmen became passionate about reclaiming England's glorious First Millennium history (perhaps it was distant enough no longer to be dangerous). Think of the numbers of Victorians ... mostly bewhiskered ... who had this monnikker ... 

The third such period? In 1928, the Church of England added Alfred to the list of saints which could be observed, assigning him October 26. So that made it official ... "S Alfred King and Confessor" ... except that it didn't really, because Parliament (fortunately) refused to pass the Revised 1928 Prayer Book.

Unofficially and illegally, that "Alterntive Calendar (1928)" continued to be used and printed just as if it had been authorised. Interestingly, the C of E  did not take the opportunity to render King Alfred ... and his sanctitas ... honest in the Alternative Service Book of 1980. Juridical Legality had to await the authorisation of The Christian Year in 1997.

I have, on my library shelves, a fourth presentation of "St" Alfred, in the form of an Ordo of the English Roman Catholic Diocese of Northampton, dated 2002. It includes him on his Anglican date; quite what the ecclesiological significance of this de facto canonisation may be, I leave to the amused speculation of readers.

Please, no angry expostulations.

 

My suspicion is that the lesson here concerns the unreality of the modern Nation State. Frantic for meaning, citizens, politicians, and Media Persons reach out for concepts and individuals to exemplify what seems to them the sense of the 'country' they think they belong to.

Moi, I identify simply as a Latin Catholic. This is just as well, since there isn't much else I could claim to be.

Pole at Lambeth

They've got an Exhibition at Lambeth Palace about Reginald Cardinal Pope, Archbishop of Canterbury There is one particular, immensely eloquent volume, which has set me wondering if it is in this Exhibition. (The state of my health means that I have no possibility of going to see.)

Let me explain.

Some years ago, I was in Bodley leisurely following one of my heroes, the magnificent John Grandisson, Bishop (1328-1369) of Exeter. I had in my hands a Vita by him about S Thomas Becket, which I found quite a revelation. King Henry, I discovered, imposed the most horrific penalties ... deaths, blindings and maimings ... upon anybody doing such a thing as conveying a papal bull into this kingdom. King Henry (I mean, Henry II) was set upon sundering the Unity of Christendom by dealing with imperially-nominated antipopes.

Not being a historian, I had had some vague idea that Becket stood up to Henry II in defense of the principles surrounding investiture ... and such stuff. That half hour in Bodley deciphering (I am not a historian!!) C14 script helped me to understand still better the degree to which I and my generation were fed a diet of The History of England Rendered Gentlemanly. But another surprise lay before me.

For no particular reason, before strolling off for a leisurely break, I turned to the beginning of the book. In doing so, I found I had moved from the Mediaeval world, its crabbed script and its distant preoccupations, into the purest Renaissance. A previous owner had written his name, in an elegant Italian script:

Reginaldus Pole

Click click click ... you can imagine the connections which instantly formed in my mind. The parallels between the two iniquitous Kings Henry. Pole's own martyred Mother, Blessed Margaret. The courage of the Cornish and Devonish peasantry in 1549, demanding that the Lord Cardinal Pole be brought back to England and made the First in the Council of little Edward VI "because he is of the King's Blood" ... how the 'Uncles', the seedy and murderous 'Lords of the Council', must have trembled at that idea! (I wonder if a copy of the demands of the 1549 'rebels' is in the Exhibition.)

In the months after the erection of the Ordinariate, I recall a dear friend, Mgr Andrew Wadsworth, saying to me how privileged we were going to be to enter into the inheritance of the Martyres Duacenses. How right he was; and his words were among the very few uttered in my hearing during that period which I consider worth remembering. The names of the English Martyrs are of the essence of the English Catholic Church ... their names as English as their blood.

S John Henry Newman saw this truth: in his great encomium on the English Martyrs (in The Second Spring) he even concluded by wondering if Martyrdom might still await the English Catholic clergy. " ... calmly, gracefully, sweetly, joyously, you would mount up and ride forth to the battle, as on the rush of Angels' wings, as your fathers did before you, and gained the prize. You, who day by day offer up the Immaculate Lamb of God, you who hold in your hands the Incarnate Word under the visible tokens which He has ordained, you who again and again drain the chalice of the Great Victim; who is to make you fear?"

I do not quite see how poor Welby, in whose veins flows the purest liquor of the Zeitgeist, is an appropriate man to commemorate either S Thomas Becket or Reginald Cardinal Pole.

 

Change of mind

Today, I come before you with an unusual confiteor.

I have changed my mind.

I was wrong.

We are nearing the last Sunday in October. Time was, when I would have written something about how this was the 'correct' day for celebrating Christ the King, being the day fixed by Pius XI in 1925 ... and that the Novus Ordo date, the Sunday before Advent, was wrong.

The reason for my change of mind is ... the following.

The two sets of liturgical texts are so different, that I think it is important not to confuse them ... not to imagine, or encourage others to think, that they are the Same Thing but (simply) on Different Dates. Better, for the orthodox to celebrate the orthodox version on the orthodox day fixed by Pius XI ... and to leave Trendiland to celebrate the Kingship of Bugnini on its Bugnini date.

So what's the difference? Mega! The 1925 propers vigorously emphasise the Social Kingship and Rule of our Lord Jesus Christ, something communal, even political. The 1970s texts eliminate that very necessary ... and very Catholic ... teaching. Examples: 

Second half of Collect, 1925: " ... graciously grant; that all the families of the Nations, dispersed by the wounds of sin; may be made subject to his most gracious governance."

Second half of Collect, 1970: " ... graciously grant, that the entire creation, set free from servitude, may serve thy majesty and praise thee together without end."

And here is part of one of the original Office Hymns: " ... The wicked mob [scelesta turba] keep shouting: / We do not wish Christ to rule ..." Thes lines are simply eliminated.

And so on.

There are other problems about the Novus date just before Advent; with it, you lose the ancient and beautiful Sunday Mass with the first of the 'Excita', 'Stir up', collects; we have Calendar problems about S Andrew. We miss out on what Pius XI offered us in terms of the link with All Saints Day: "we proclaim and extol the glory of Him who triumphs in all the Saints and all the Elect".

But I think the graver, because more radical, problems are the ones I print above in bold type.

Pius XI pointed out that the institution of his (October) feast had been on its way ... in fact ... since (or since before) the 1899 Encyclical of Leo XIII Annum sacrum (1899: Pius writes: "... ad hanc diem festi celebritatem instituendam, inde ab exeunte superiore saeculo viam feliciter egregieque munitam esse conspicimus"). Indeed; much of the authentic and highly edifying Magisterium of the first half of the twentieth century is a working-out of what came towards the end of the nineteenth under Pope Leo. 

Pope Pius quotes these words from Pope Leo: "then [that is, with the social rule of Christ] will many ills be cured; then will the law regain its former authority, peace with all its blessings be restored. Men will sheathe their swords and lay down their arms when all freely acknowledge and obey the authority of Christ, and every tongue confesses that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father."

Bishop Challoner

One of my many joys, before my illness, was saying Mass from time to time in the private Recusant Chapel at Milton Manor; 'Gothick' but with genuine medieval glass collected from nearby parish churches before the C of E invented the dear old myth of its own 'continuity'.

Here, transcribed from an old Prayer Card, is a prayer for the Beatification of Richard Challoner, Vicar Apostolic, who dedicated the chapel on August 15, 1773. A friend of the squire, he was buried in the neighbouring Anglican parish church ... remaining there until the new Westmonasteriensian establishment ... like huntsmen and hounds maddened for a fox ... dug him out and transferred him to their shiny new pseudobyzantine crypt among the sidings of The Victoria Railway Station. 

I don't know the date of this prayer's composition, but it clearly predates the tejjus Ecumenical Correctitudes of the 1960s.

O God, who didst raise up thy servant Richard, a true and faithful pastor of thy little flock in England: raise him, we beseech thee, to the altars of thy Church; that we who have been taught by his word and example may invoke his help in heaven for the return of this land to the ancient faith and to the fold of the one true Shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Challoner was V A when the London mob sacked the Church of the Assumption and S Gregory, Warwick Street, now the central Church of our Ordinariate. How thoroughly satisfying now to have that historic church as part of our inheritance! 

 I wonder if anybody ever gives a thought to the Marquis of Pombal, a decisive man ...

Vivat Rex.

from an undated prayer card

 PRAYER to ask God for the glorification of Pius IX and to obtain favours (grazie).

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, hear our prayer and glorify thy servant Pius IX, who consecrated to thee the Universal Church (Gloria 3 times).

Mary conceived without sin, pray for us that we may return to thee, hear our prayer and glorify thy servant Pius IX who declared thee Immaculate. (Ave  3 times).

Saint Joseph, most pure spouse of Mary the Virgin, hear our prayer and glorify thy servant Pius IX who declared thee Patron of the Universal Church. (Pater 3 times). 

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, Mary Immaculate and our Hope, Saint Joseph hear our prayers and glorify your servant Pius IX, granting us us through his merits and intercession the favour which we ardently desire.

A bit more Brian Brindley

 "All the gimmicks we see accepted without demur in the most official Anglican circles within the Church of England today -- evening Mass, 'concelebration', Mass facing the people, 'primitive' vestments -- all of them came to us direct from the Roman Church. ... Church people who travel on the continent now find a very different external manifestation of Catholic continuity from that which delighted Maurice Child and Ronald Knox in the days before the Great War -- tabernacles empty, high altars stripped and deserted, statues removed, votive-stands gone, High Mass abandoned, plainsong and polyphony alike cast out in favour of vernacular hymns and trivial melodies; and, everywhere, communion-tables ..."