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We need not point out how strongly all this symbolises the spiritual pride, the luxury, the self-sufficiency, the bigotry of the congregations of too many a pew-rented Episcopal chapel.
In contrast to this, let us close with a general view of the symbolism of a Catholic church.
Far away, and long ere we catch our first view of the city itself, the three spires of its cathedral, rising high above its din and turmoil, preach to us of the Most Holy and Undivided Trinity. As we approach, the transepts, striking out cross-wise, tell of the Atonement: the Communion of Saints is set forth by the chapels clustering round choir and nave: the mystical weathercock bids us to watch and pray and endure hardness: the hideous forms that seem hurrying from the eaves speak the misery of those who are cast out of the Church: spire, pinnacle, and finial, the upward curl of the sculptured foliage, the upward spring of the flying buttress, the sharp rise of the window arch, the high-thrown pitch of the roof, all these, overpowering the horizontal tendency of string course and parapet, teach us, that vanquishing earthly desires, we also should ascend in heart and mind. Lessons of holy wisdom are written in the delicate tracery of the windows: the unity of many members is shadowed forth by the multiplex arcade: the duty of letting our light shine before men, by the pierced and flowered parapet that crowns the whole.
We enter. The triple breadth of nave and aisles, the triple height of pier arch, triforium, and clerestory, the triple length of choir, transepts, and nave, again set forth the Holy Trinity. And what besides is there that does not tell of our Blessed Saviour? that does not point out 'Him first' in the two-fold western door: 'Him last' in the distant altar: 'Him midst' in the great rood: 'Him without end' in the monogram carved on boss and corbal, in the Holy Lamb, in the Lion of the tribe of Judah, in the Mystic Fish? Close by us is the font; {cxxxi} for by regeneration we enter the Church: it is deep and capacious; for we are buried in baptism with Christ: it is of stone; for He is the Rock: and its spiry cover teaches us, if we be indeed risen from its waters with Him, to seek those things that are above. Before us, in long drawn vista, are the massy piers, which are the Apostles and Prophets: they are each of many members, for many are the graces in every saint: there is delicate foliage round the head of all; for all were plentiful in good works. Beneath our feet are the badges of worldly pomp and glory, the charges of kings and nobles and knights: all in the presence of God as dross and worthlessness. Over us swells the vast 'valley' of the high-pitched roof: from the crossing and interlacing of its curious rafters hang fadeless flowers and fruits which are not of earth: from its hammer-beams project wreaths and stars, such as adorn heavenly beings: in its centre stands the Lamb as it had been slain: from around Him the Celestial Host, cherubim and seraphim, thrones, principalities, and powers, look down peacefully on the worshippers below. Harpers there are among them harping with their harps: for one is the song of the Church in earth and in heaven. Through the walls wind the narrow cloister galleries: emblems of the path by which holy hermits and anchorites, whose conflicts were known only to their God, have reached their home. And we are compassed about with a mighty cloud of witnesses: the rich deep glass of the windows teems with saintly forms, each in its own fair niche, all invested with the same holy repose: there is the glorious company of the apostles: the goodly fellowship of the prophets: the noble army of martyrs: the shining band of the confessors: the jubilant chorus of the virgins: there are kings who have long since changed an earthly for an heavenly crown: and bishops who have given in a glad account to the Shepherd and Bishop of souls. {cxxxii} But on none of these things do we rest; piers, arch behind arch, windows, light behind light, arcades, shaft behind shaft, the roof, bay behind bay, the saints around us, the heavenly hierarchy above with dignity of pre-eminence still increasing eastward, each and all, lead on eye and soul and thought to the image of the crucified Saviour as displayed in the great east window. Gazing steadfastly on that, we pass up the nave, that is through the Church Militant, till we reach the rood screen, the barrier between it and the Church Triumphant, and therein shadowing forth the death of the faithful. High above it hangs, on His triumphal cross, the image of Him Who by His death hath overcome death; on it are portrayed saints and martyrs, His warriors, who fighting under their Lord have entered into rest and inherit a tearless eternity. They are to be our examples, and the seven lamps above them typify those graces of the Spirit, by Whom alone we can tread in their steps. The screen itself glows with gold and crimson: with gold, for they have on their heads golden crowns: with crimson, for they passed the Red Sea of martyrdom to obtain them. And through the delicate net-work, and the unfolding holy doors, we catch faint glimpses of the chancel beyond. There are the massy stalls; for in heaven is everlasting rest: there are the sedilia, emblems of the seats of the elders round the throne: there is the piscina; for they have washed their robes and made them white: and there, heart and soul and life of all, the altar with its unquenched lights, and golden carvings, and mystic steps, and sparkling jewels: even Christ Himself, by Whose only merits we find admission to our heavenly inheritance. Verily, as we think on the oneness of its design, we may say: Jerusalem edificatur ut civitas cujus participatio ejus in idipsum.
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POSTSCRIPTUM
On concluding their work, which from circumstances that need not be specified has been a year in the press, the writers must apologise for the numerous typographical errors which have been allowed to remain. Their separation from each other, and distance from the printer, must plead in excuse.
They take this opportunity of expressing their thanks to the Reverend Dr. Mill, Christian Advocate of the University of Cambridge, and to F. A. Paley, Esq., M.A., of S. John's College, Cambridge, Honorary Secretary of the Cambridge Camden Society, for their advice and assistance.
It remains to say that some doubt has been felt by persons who have read the Introductory Essay in proofs, whether the writers have given Mr. Pugin sufficient credit for several passages in his works which seem to involve the principle now contended for. We had thought that no misapprehension could be feared on this head. It was enough to know that the principle in question, even though felt (as we indeed allowed) by this architect, had not been expressed in terms. In short, we took this fact for our ground: that whereas Mr. Pugin's book professed to assert the true principles of Christian architecture, yet reality, according to his definition, was not at least so accurately a 'true principle' as sacramentality. The principles themselves, as enunciated by Mr. Pugin, apply as well to any secular building as to a church: they are true for construction, but not adequate in themselves to form a rule for ecclesiastical design.