[Footnote 52: Ecclesiologist, vol. i, p. 120.]
S. Isidore, of Seville, incidentally mentions many symbolical arrangements: they will be found in the notes to the text of the Rationale. Many pieces of symbolism are to be found incidentally in the Decretum of Gratian.
In mentioning Durandus himself, it seems proper to anticipate an objection which may occur to some readers. The authority, it may be said, of that writer must be very small who can give such absurd derivations as cemeterium from cime, altare from alta res, allegory from allon and gore. But it must be remembered, firstly, that in the thirteenth century, Greek was a language almost unknown in Europe: next, that our author nowhere professes an acquaintance with it: further, that the science of derivation was hardly understood till within the last few years: and lastly, that Cicero's authority led Durandus into some errors; for instance, his derivation of templum from tectum amplum.
One proof of the reality of Durandus's principles we must not fail to notice. It is the express allusion which he makes to, and the graphical description which he {lxxvi} gives of, that which we know to have been the style of architecture employed in his time. The tie beams, the deeply splayed windows, the interior shafts, all prove that we are engaged with a writer of Early English date.
It is very remarkable, that Durandus, S. Isidore, Beleth, and the rest, seem to quote from some canons of church symbolism now unknown to us. Their words are often, even where they are not very connected nor intelligible, the same. One example may suffice. 'In that this rod,' says Hugh of S. Victor, 'is placed above the Cross, it is shown that the words of Scripture be consummated and confirmed by the Cross: whence our Lord said in His Passion, "It is Finished." And His Title was indelibly written over Him' (p. 200). 'In that the iron rod,' says Durandus, 'is placed above the Cross, on the summit of the church, it signifieth that Holy Scripture is now consummated and confirmed. Whence saith our Lord in his Passion, "It is Finished," and that Title is written indelibly over Him(p. 28). The following, by way of another instance, is the symbolical [Footnote 53] description of a church, written on a fly-leaf, at the beginning of a MS. 'Psalterium Glossatum,' in the public library at Boulogne, though formerly in that of S. Bertin's Abbey, at S. Omer.
[Footnote 53: British Magazine, 1843, p. 393.]
The text is either of the tenth or eleventh century; but it will be seen that the words of Durandus, writing at so great a distance of time and place, are nearly the same in some passages.
Fundamentum ipsius Camerae est Fides.
Altitudo ejus est Spes.
Latitudo ejus est Caritas.
Longitudo ejus est Perseverantia.
Latera ejus sunt Concordia et Pax.
{lxxvii}
Frontes ipsius sunt Justicia & Veritas.
Pulchritudo ejus est exemplum bonorum operum.
Fenestrae ejus sunt dicta sanctorum.
Pavimentum ejus est humilitas cordis.
Camera est conversatio coelestis.
Pilastri ejus sunt spiritales virtues.
Columnae ejus sunt boni pontifices & sacerdotes.
Interlegatio ejus est vinculum pacis.
Tectum ejus est fidelis dispensator.
* isces ejus sunt mediatio celestis.
Mensa Christi est in camera bona conversatio.
Ministerium Christi in camera sua est bona memoria.
Facinus Christi est bona voluntas.
Canterellus Christi est nitor conscientiae.
Cathedra Christi est serenitas mentis.
Sponsa Christi est sancta anima.
Camerariae Christi spiritales virtutes sunt:
Prima Sancta Caritas dicta est; illa Christi regit cameram.
Secunda est Sancta Humilitas; illa est thesauraria in camera Christi
Tertia est Sancta Patientia; illa facit luminaria in camera Christi.
Quarta Sancta Puritas; illa scopat cameram Christi.
But besides, and in our opinion stronger than this express and continuous testimony to the fact that Catholic architecture is symbolical, we have the testimony of all other branches of Catholic art, which none ever did, or could deny to be figurative and sacramental. Let us take merely the rites which accompany the close of Easter week. We enter a darkened church, illuminated only by the lighted 'Sepulchre': we hear the history of the Passion chaunted by three voices in three recitatives: we have the most mournfully pathetic strain for the 'Reproaches' which perhaps the human mind ever imagined:—we pray for Pagans—and we kneel; we pray for Turks—and we kneel; we pray for the Jews, and we kneel not; in abhorrence of the mockery that bowed the knee to the King of the Jews. We enter that church again, now perfectly darkened, except for the one lamp that renders the lectern and the books {lxxviii} thereon just visible: the solemn litanies seem in that obscurity, and amidst the silent crowd of worshippers, more solemn than usual. There is a short pause: then in one second, priests and people, voices and instruments, burst forth with the Easter Alleluia: light pours in from every window of the cathedral: showers of rose leaves fall from the roof: bells—silent for three long days, peal from every church tower: guns fire and banners wave: Dominus resurrexit vere, Alleluia, et apparuit Sinioni Alleluia.
Now, without being concerned to defend, or the contrary, any or all of these ceremonies, we ask:—Is it possible to conceive that the Church which invented so deeply symbolical a system of worship—should have rested content with an unsymbolical building for its practice? This consideration, perhaps, belongs to the analogical branch of our essay: yet it may also find a place here, as one of the strongest parts of the inductive argument.