Stones of the Temple; Or, Lessons from the Fabric and Furniture of the Church

Part 10

Chapter 104,128 wordsPublic domain

"Heartily glad, I'm sure, my friend here must be to part with the old _half empty packing-cases_, and to see proper benches in their place. And as you have been kind enough to listen to me so far, I will just say a few more words to explain the two desks which the Vicar has placed in the nave of your church, and of which I heard you had disapproved. One is the _Litany-desk_, or _faldstool_[121],--as it is called in the Coronation Service. The Litany is a very solemn, penitential service, and from very early times it has been said from the appropriate place where the Vicar has placed the Litany-desk in your church--namely, just at the entrance to the chancel. Its position there has reference to that Litany of God's own appointing, of which we read in the Book of Joel[122], where, in a general assembly, the priests were to weep _between the porch and the altar_, and to say, '_Spare Thy people, O Lord_.' In allusion to this, our Litany--retaining also the same words of supplication--is enjoined, by the royal injunctions[123], still in force, 'to be said or sung in the midst of the church, at a low desk before the chancel-door[124].' The other desk is called the _lectern_, or _lettern_, and sometimes the _eagle-desk_; and, as you are aware, is the desk from which the lessons are read. They were first made of wood, and often richly carved; afterwards they were commonly made of brass or copper. They were first used about the end of the thirteenth century, and although most of our country churches have been despoiled of them, yet they have never ceased to be used in our cathedrals, as well as many other churches[125]. The desk is often supported by a pelican feeding its young with its own blood, the emblem of our Saviour's love; more frequently it is supported by an eagle, the symbolic representation of the Evangelist St. John. It is true that both the faldstool and the lectern have long been unknown at Droneworth, yet I feel sure you will not, on second thoughts, consider the restoration of such convenient and appropriate furniture as objectionable."

The two late dissentients agreed that as they had overcome the greater difficulty, they should withdraw all opposition in the matter; and, it being now late, the party broke up, each one feeling glad that a good thing had been done on a good day.

_CHAPTER XX_

THE AISLES

"Praise ye the name of the Lord; praise Him, O ye servants of the Lord. Ye that stand in the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of our God."

Ps. cxxxv. 1, 2.

"Three solemn parts together twine In harmony's mysterious line Three solemn aisles approach the shrine, Yet all are one."

KEBLE.

Illustration: Castle Cary Church

THE AISLES

Mr. Beeland accompanied his two friends some distance on their way home.

"I remember noticing," said Mr. Acres, "that the pews of your two parishioners very much blocked up the _centre aisle_ of the church; their removal will much widen the aisle, which will be a great improvement."

"Forgive me for correcting you," said Mr. Ambrose, "there can be no such thing as a _centre aisle_. You are speaking of the centre _alley_ or _passage_. The word _aisle_[126] can only refer to the wing of a building, and it always denotes that portion of a church which runs laterally north or south of the nave or chancel. I see, Mr. Beeland, you have some work to do in that aisle of yours before your church will be in good order."

"Yes, that is my greatest remaining difficulty. I have observed that those of the congregation who occupy that aisle are far less attentive and devotional than the rest; and the reasons are obvious. They are cut off from the main portion of the church, not only by the high backs of the existing pews, and by the hat and cloak rails which run from pillar to pillar, but also by needless masses of modern masonry. Moreover, they can see nothing of that part of the church which is sacred to the most solemn offices of our worship. Then, again, what the people _do see_ is enough to divert all devotional thought and feeling from any but the _most_ seriously and religiously disposed."

"You mean the hideous heathen monument which occupies the east end of the aisle. If I remember rightly, it is a sort of monstrous Roman altar, with four huge bull's heads at each corner."

"Yes; it is in the centre of a mortuary chapel, once belonging to a family named Bullock, and their frightful crest, in gigantic proportions, is the one object on which the eyes of at least a third of our congregation must rest, if they open their eyes at all. I can hardly conceive any thing more calculated to deaden the fervour of Christian worship than an object like this placed before the gaze of the worshipper. Much as I object to the bare walls of Dissenting meeting-houses, and the many-altared aisles of Roman Catholic churches, I believe neither are so distracting to the minds of the congregation generally as are the mortuary chapels, with their uncouth _adornments_, which occupy so large a space in the aisles of many of our own churches. Unfortunately, this chapel now belongs to a young man who has recently seceded to the Church of Rome, and he will neither allow me to appropriate for the use of the parishioners any of the space we so much need, nor will he consent to have the unsightly monument removed to a less conspicuous place."

"The bitter hostility to wards the Church of their baptism, and the utter absence of Christian sympathy in good works of this nature, which characterize so many of those who have fallen away from our Communion, is indeed most deplorable. But even if your unreasonable and narrow-hearted parishioner will oppose all improvement in that part of the aisle which--stolen from God and His people--he claims as his own private property, there is much you can do, when you set about your work of restoration, to make that part of the church less isolated than at present. At least, you can remove much of the useless wood and masonry which now separate the aisle from the nave."

"I propose also to re-open the ancient hagioscope in the south wall of the chancel, by which means the people in the aisle will once more gain a view of the altar, and be enabled to see and hear the priest when officiating there."

"Will you kindly tell me, Mr. Beeland," said Mr. Acres, "what are _hagioscopes_[127]? I never remember having heard the word before."

"You probably have heard them called by their more common name of _squints_. They are openings in the north or south walls of the chancel, or perhaps more commonly in the walls supporting the chancel arch, and are intended to give a view of the altar to those who are worshipping in the aisles. They are to be found in most old churches, but they have commonly, as in our case, been bricked up. It is manifestly very desirable that in all cases they should be restored, not only on account of their architectural beauty, but also for their practical utility in the services of the Church."

The party then separated, and the Vicar of Droneworth took back to his parish a lighter heart than he had known for many a day.

_CHAPTER XXI_

THE TRANSEPTS

"Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary."

Ps. xcvi. 6.

"Pace we the ground! our footsteps tread A cross--the builder's holiest form-- That awful couch where once was shed The blood with man's forgiveness warm, And here, just where His mighty breast Throbb'd the last agony away, They bade the voice of worship rest, And white-robed Levites pause and pray."

HAWKER.

Illustration: Church of SS. Peter and Paul, Ringwood

THE TRANSEPTS

"Much of the objection which you have expressed to the prevailing arrangement of the aisles," said Mr. Acres, continuing the conversation with his Vicar, "seems to me to apply also to that of the transepts--I believe that is the proper name for those portions of a church which extend in a _transverse_ direction north and south?"

"Yes," replied the Vicar; "and the remedies for the evil are in both cases nearly the same. Great inconvenience often arises from the exclusive character of the parclose. I would have the solid part of this made lower, and the upper part more light and open."

"Pardon me, my friend, but I am ignorant as to what you mean by the word _parclose_."

"I refer now to the screen which encloses the chancel on the north and south sides; but I believe the word may apply to any screen in the church. By means of these screens, however, the persons in the transepts are needlessly excluded from a view of the altar."

"Yes; but the change in them which you suggest would not fully meet the difficulty, even if a squint or hagioscope should also be provided."

"I see that," said the Vicar; "and for that reason I would, as a rule, only have those portions of the transepts nearest the chancel fitted with permanent seats. On special occasions chairs could be placed in the back parts; or, perhaps, the whole of the transepts might be given up to the children of the parochial schools, the elder children, who could best understand the nature of the services, being placed in the front."

"A very proper arrangement, indeed, I should think, for all of them would be able at least to _hear_, and they would be conveniently placed for assisting in the musical parts of the service. It has often struck me as the refinement of cruelty to place these children in the remote damp corners of country churches, where too often they are to be found; or, worse still, in the topmost galleries of city churches, where the air they breathe is heated and impure. In both cases there is a manifest unconcern as well for the temporal as for the spiritual welfare of these little ones of Christ's flock."

"To whatever use, however, they may be applied, or even if they are entirely unappropriated, so far as regards affording accommodation for the congregation, I would, by all means, wherever practicable, retain the transeptal arrangement of our churches, not only as being the most ornamental form of structure, but as preserving in the entire building the distinct form of the _Cross_; and as symbolizing in the gathering together of each congregation of Christ's Church--which is _His Body_, that Body itself. Thus the nave represents the body, the transepts the outstretched arms, and the chancel--being the most excellent part of the church--the head[128] of our Lord. Some perhaps might think it fanciful, but to me there is something very solemn and beautiful in the idea, not only of the church's whole fabric assuming these symbolic forms, but also of the united prayers and praises of the congregation making, as it were, in their very sound _the sign of the Cross_."

"I think so too. And to my mind it has always seemed that the grand symbolism which looks through, as it were, the _whole_ fabric of the church, and the _whole_ congregation therein assembled, was formerly much marred in our churches, when there were _many_ altars, dedicated to _many_ saints, instead of the _one_ altar, which we now only retain, dedicated to the _one Head_ of the Christian Church."

"Yes; and your remark, of course, applies specially to the _transepts_ about which we were speaking, since even in our country churches every transept had its separate altar, the _piscina_ attached to which is still to be found in almost every old church."

"I suppose," said Mr. Acres, "that beautiful Gothic niche in our south transept which you recently restored is a _piscina_?"

"Yes, it is. The piscina was always placed on the south side of the altar, and it was used chiefly as the receptacle for the water used in cleansing the sacred vessels, or for that used by the priest in washing his hands[129]. It is to be found in our earliest Norman churches, and evidently dates from the time of their erection. There is often a _shelf_ placed over the basin of the piscina, which was used as a _credence_[130]."

"We heard much about the credence-table some time since," interrupted the Squire, "when there was a suit in law about this and some other matters; but I confess I am still ignorant as to the purpose of the credence-table."

"It is usually a small table, or, when forming part of the piscina, a shelf, on which the elements intended for use at the Eucharist are placed before their consecration. Just before the prayer for the _church militant_ in the Communion Service there is this direction: 'The priest shall _then_ place upon the table (i.e. the altar) so much bread and wine as he shall think sufficient.' Now, you see, it would be very inconvenient, and a sad interruption of that part of the service, to bring these from a distant part of the church. The ancient custom, therefore, of placing the elements on the credence-table at the commencement of the service is most convenient for the proper observance of this rubric. And so, although the credence has only been preserved as an interesting relic, or ornament in other parts of the church, in the chancel it has been preserved or restored[131], as being still a most useful and important part of the furniture of the church."

Having now arrived at the vicarage-gate, the two friends bade each other good-night.

_CHAPTER XXII_

THE CHANCEL SCREEN

"The vail shall divide unto you between the holy place and the most holy."

Exod. xxvi. 33.

"I love the Church,--the holy Church, The Saviour's spotless bride: And, oh, I love her palaces Through all the land so wide! The cross-topp'd spire amid the trees, The holy bell of prayer; The music of our mother's voice, Our mother's home is there.

"I love the Church,--the holy Church, That o'er our life presides; The birth, the bridal, and the grave, And many an hour besides! Be mine, through life, to live in her, And when the Lord shall call, To die in her--the spouse of Christ, The mother of us all."

_Christian Ballads._

Illustration: Church of St. John, Walworth

THE CHANCEL SCREEN

Perhaps, gentle reader (all readers are supposed to be "gentle,"--they _ought_ to be), if you live in a retired village, you will find that in the course of many years, your village annals present little or nothing worthy of record, as matter of general interest or importance; you will, therefore, understand how that the past six years at the little village of St. Catherine's have been so uneventful as to be noticed only by a blank in our narrative. But now, on this twenty-sixth day of June, in the year 1866, an event of no common interest in a country parish is about to take place.

Since their first meeting, four years ago, at the vicarage of Droneworth, a close intimacy had grown up between the families of Mr. Acres and his neighbour Sir John Adamley; the upright integrity and manly candour which marked both their characters soon begat a deep mutual respect, which, in course of time, ripened into a warm friendship, now about to be sealed in the marriage of the Baronet's eldest son Egbert with Mr. Acres' eldest daughter Constance.

The place is all astir betimes. Early in the morning a merry peal is sounding from the old church tower, and many hands are busy in decorating with flowers and evergreens arches placed at intervals between the church and the Hall. It is by no order of the Squire or his steward that these arches--erected at no slight cost of money and labour--are put up; they are the spontaneous expression of the interest which the villagers themselves take in the day's rejoicing. There are William Hardy, Robert Atkinson, Mr. Dole, even old Matthew and his grandson, and indeed half the village, as busy as bees in and out of the church, vying with each other in their endeavour to make every thing look bright and joyful. Every one has put on something gay and cheerful, purchased specially for the occasion; there is the light of honest gladness on every face; and now that the children with their baskets of fresh flowers stand ranged on either side of the pathway that leads from the main road to the lich-gate, the scene is one of the most picturesque that can be imagined....

"Does Mr. Ambrose particularly wish that the first part of the service should take place near the _chancel screen_?" inquires Sir John.

"Yes," answers the Squire; "it is always the custom here, and I think you will afterwards acknowledge that this arrangement is very fitting and appropriate; and, indeed, adds not a little to the impressiveness of the ceremony."

"I can quite imagine that; but what authority has the Vicar for the practice?"

"Oh, that is very plain. If you just look at your Prayer Book, you will see this rubric at the commencement of the Marriage Service: 'At the time appointed for the solemnization of matrimony, the persons to be married shall come into the _body of the church_ with their friends and neighbours, and _there_ standing, the priest shall say'--then follows the address to the congregation assembled, and the rest of the service, till the priest pronounces the first blessing; and after that, the priests and clerks, 'going to the Lord's Table,' are directed to say or sing one of the Psalms, and it is evidently intended that the newly-married persons should accompany them, for when the Psalm is ended they are mentioned as 'kneeling before the Lord's Table.' This procession to the altar of course loses much of its meaning and impressiveness when there is no celebration of Holy Communion. But, then, this ought not to be omitted, except in very extreme cases."

"I quite see now that Mr. Ambrose is following the rule of the Church. I certainly never read the directions in the Service before. I suppose, however, there is no particular part of the body of the church named?"

"No; I believe it is only ancient custom which decides upon the chancel screen; it is, too, the most convenient part of the church for this purpose." ...

Why is it that all those young eyes are so bright with love, as from each ready hand falls the gay flowers at the feet of the happy pair? Why is each knee bent during _every_ prayer in that solemn service? And, now, when the hands of Mr. Ambrose rest on the heads of Constance and her husband, as he pronounces over them the last blessing of the Church, why does the deep _Amen_ sound from _every_ lip? Why is there that breathless silence as those happy ones kneel before the altar to bind themselves yet more closely together, and to God, in Holy Communion? And now, as they come forth from God's House, how is it that there is no faltering voice in all that assembly as the glad shout of Christian joy rings up through the air to heaven? I'll tell you. It is because the priest and the Squire have ever recognized their joint duties in that parish; because Constance has been a sister of charity and mercy among the poor; because they have striven with all their might to do the work God gave them to do; and now they have their reward in the hearty affection and respect of all their neighbours.

There were but two exceptions to this general manifestation of good feeling among the villagers, and they were the last evil growth of the old Anabaptist schism in the parish. At the same time that Egbert and Constance were breathing their mutual vows beneath the old chancel screen of St Catherine's, William Strike and Sally Sowerby were being "married" by Mr. Gallio at the new register-office at Townend....

"There is something very touching," said the Squire to Mr. Ambrose, as they walked back together to the Hall, "in that old custom preserved in our village of hanging a white glove on the chancel screen[132]. That was the very glove my dear Mary wore when she promised to be the wife of Edward Markland, and poor Edward himself placed it there. I saw Constance's eyes fill with tears to-day as she ventured to give one look at the sad memento."

"The custom is fast dying out, and only survives in a few rural parishes. Indeed, the very screens themselves have, you know, in most churches been swept away[133]. The finer carving is often to be found worked up into pews, and the large timbers have been used in building galleries. Where these screens were made of stone[134], they have generally been preserved unharmed. In some cases, alas! people have not been contented with demolishing the screen, but have actually in their place built a gallery[135] for a family pew, extending all across the front of the chancel, but I am thankful to say such instances are very rare."

"Will you kindly tell me the origin of the chancel screen?"

"It was formerly called the rood screen, or rood gallery, and where the rood has been restored, it is still properly so called. The Gospel used to be read from this gallery, and sometimes the psalms were sung there by the priests and choristers. The custom of reading the Gospel from this position was evidently intended to express a special respect for this portion of God's Word; and so, for the same reason, now the Gospel is read from the _north_ side of the chancel, whilst the Epistle is read from the south. The _rood_[136], which consisted of a crucifix with the figure of the Blessed Virgin on one side, and of St. John on the other, was placed at the top of the screen. Over this, and between the chancel arch and the roof, the wall was painted, the subject usually being the Doom, or representation of the Last Judgment. To replace this, it would seem that, at the Reformation, the Commandments were ordered to be painted at the east end of the church."

"You think, then," said the Squire, "that the order in the canons does not refer to the east end of the _chancel_?"

"It is a disputed point, but _I_ think not. Had the chancel been intended, I think it would have been so stated. Besides, it was ordered that they should be so placed that the 'people could best see and read the same,' and certainly they could not do the latter if they were painted at the east end of the chancel. Indeed, I regard that as the least convenient and appropriate place in the whole church for them. If we have them any where, the east end of the nave or aisles is the best place for them; but, really, the need to have them at all is now passed away, as those who can read, can read the Commandments in their Bibles and Prayer Books; and for those who cannot, it is useless placing them on the walls of the church[137]. However, it is far better to have the Commandments over the chancel arch than the _royal arms_. It is wonderful how silly people become when they have a superstitious dread of superstition. For instance, I know a church where the congregation were offended by an old painting in the church, the subject of which was at least calculated to inspire solemn thoughts, yet could be contented that the most conspicuous object in the church should be a hideous representation of the royal arms, with this sentence below it in large characters: 'Mrs. Jemima Diggs, widow, gave this painting of the Queen's arms, A.D. 1710[138].' I should like to know what there is in that to remind us that we are in the House of God?"

_CHAPTER XXIII_

THE CHANCEL

"In this place is One greater than the temple."

S. Matt. xii. 6.

"Our life lies eastward: every day Some little of that mystic way By trembling feet is trod: In thoughtful fast, and quiet feast, Our thoughts go travelling to the East To our incarnate God. Fresh from the Font, our childhood's prime, To life's most oriental time,--

"Still doth it eastward turn in prayer, And rear its saving altar there: Still doth it eastward turn in creed, While faith in awe each gracious deed Of her dear Saviour's love doth plead; Still doth it turn at every line To the fair East--in sweet mute sign That through our weary strife and pain, We crave our Eden back again."

FABER.

Illustration: Sutton Benger Church

THE CHANCEL