Seeing then that there are strong reasons à priori for believing that the ritual and architecture of the Church would partake of a decidedly symbolical character: that by the analogy of the practice amongst all religionists, of the operations of God in nature, of the conditions of Art, and especially of the whole sacramental system of the Church, it is likely that church architecture itself would be sacramental: that from the nature of things everything material is in some sort sacramental, and a material fabric essentially figurative of the purpose for which it was designed: that an actual Christian church (taken as we find it) has such accidents as can be explained on no other than a symbolical supposition, and might be analysed into just those elements from which, by induction, we first constructed an hypothetical Christian church: and lastly, that from express and {lxxix} continuous historical testimony without any actual acquaintance with existing fabrics we might have deduced that the material church would be itself, to some extent, a figurative expression of the religion for the celebration of which it was constructed: it does not seem too much to assert that Christian architecture owes its distinctive peculiarities to its sacramental character, and that consequently we can neither appreciate ancient examples nor hope to rival them, at least in their perfection, without taking into account this principle of their design. In other words, the cause of that indefinable difference between an ancient and modern church which we were led to discover at the beginning of this treatise, is neither association of ideas nor correctness of detail, nor picturesqueness, nor of a mechanical nature, but (in the most general point of view) is the sacramentality, the religious symbolism, which distinguished and sanctified this as every other branch of mediaeval art.
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CHAPTER VII
EXAMPLES OF SYMBOLISM
In endeavouring shortly to develop the practice of symbolism, according to our view of the subject, we are fully aware that to those who have never yet bestowed a thought upon it, we shall appear mere visionaries or enthusiasts. It has been the fashion of late to smile at the whole theory, as amusing and perhaps beautiful: but quite unpractical and indeed impracticable. We cannot hope to convince by aesthetics those who are deaf to more direct arguments, and who refuse to view everything, as churchmen ought to do, through the medium of the Church. But those who agree with us in the latter duty, will perhaps suffer themselves to think twice on what will be advanced before they condemn it.
We shall consider the practice of symbolism as connected with, 1. The Holy Trinity; 2. Regeneration; 3. The Atonement; 4. The Communion of Saints; and then we shall notice several parts of a church, such as windows, doors, etc., with their specific symbolical meaning.
The doctrine of the Holy Trinity has left, as might be expected, deeper traces in the structure of our churches than any other principles of our faith. We have already noticed that possibly the Basilican arrangement might be providentially ordered with reference to this. {Ixxxi} In Saxon times we find the idea carried out, not only by the Nave and two Aisles, but also by the triple division in length, into Nave, Chancel, and Sanctum Sanctorum. This triple division is most frequently given in Norman buildings, by a central tower; with chancel and nave: we also find in this style a triple chancel arch, an arrangement never occurring at a later epoch. Thus length and breadth were made significant of this Mystery; nor was height less so. The clerestory, the triforium, and the piers cannot fail to suggest it. Indeed, where a triforium was not needed, there is often, as at Exeter and Wells, an arrangement of arcading in niches to resemble it, made that the triplicity might be retained. It is only in late Perpendicular, such as the nave of Canterbury cathedral, that the arrangement is omitted: there the eye is at once dissatisfied. Again, the triple orders of moulding, which are so much more frequent than any other number, may be supposed to refer to the same thing. The altar steps, three, or some multiple of three, certainly do. So do the three fingers with which Episcopal Benediction is given. And this is a very early symbolism. It occurs in illuminated MS. We may mention one (Harl. 5540) of the thirteenth century, where it forms a part of the first letter of S. John's gospel. So, as we shall presently see, are Eastern triplets. And reference is constantly made to the same doctrine in bosses: we may mention as a remarkable instance one that occurs in Stamford, S. Mary's, a figure with an equilateral triangle in its mouth: thereby setting forth the duty of the preacher to proclaim the doctrine of the Trinity. In large churches, the three towers undoubtedly proclaim the same doctrine. We shall hereafter show that neither in nave and aisles, in triplets, or any thing else, is the inequality any thing else than what might have been expected.
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II. The Doctrine of Regeneration
We know, as a fact, that from the earliest times, baptisteries and fonts were octagonal. We know also that the reason assigned, if not by S. Ambrose himself at least by one of his contemporaries, for this form was, that the number eight was symbolical of Regeneration. For as the old Creation was complete in seven days, so the number next ensuing may well be significative of the new.
Now none can deny that very much the greater number of fonts are in this shape. To prove this we will refer to those selected by the Cambridge Camden Society in the appendix to the second edition of their 'Few Words to Church-Builders.' There we find.