Read Ebook: Stones of the Temple; Or Lessons from the Fabric and Furniture of the Church by Field Walter

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Ebook has 554 lines and 73938 words, and 12 pages

Harpsden Church 267

Church of St. John, Highbridge 277

Keynsham Church 287

Clerestory Window 294

Meopham Church 297

Tower, Saragosa 303

Window, Church of St. Petronius, Bologna 309

"Who is able to build Him an house, seeing the heaven and heaven of heavens cannot contain Him? who am I then, that I should build Him an house, save only to burn sacrifice before Him? "Send me now therefore a man cunning to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass, and in iron, and in purple, and crimson, and blue, and that can skill to grave with the cunning men that are with me in Judah and in Jerusalem, whom David my father did provide. Send me also cedar-trees, fir-trees, and algum-trees, out of Lebanon: for I know that thy servants can skill to cut timber in Lebanon; and, behold, my servants shall be with thy servants, even to prepare me timber in abundance: for the house which I am about to build shall be great and wonderful."-- 2 Chron. ii. 6--9. ?

PREFACE The following chapters are an attempt to explain in very simple language the history and use of those parts of the Church's fabric with which most persons are familiar.

They are not written with a view to assist the student of Ecclesiastical Art and Architecture--for which purpose the works of many learned writers are available--but simply to inform those who, from having paid little attention to such pursuits, or from early prejudice, may have misconceived the origin and design of much that is beautiful and instructive in God's House.

The spiritual and the material fabric are placed side by side, and the several offices and ceremonies of the Church as they are specially connected with the different parts of the building are briefly noticed.

Some of the subjects referred to may appear trifling and unimportant; those, however, among them which seem to be the most trivial have in some parishes given rise to long and serious disputations.

The unpretending narrative, which serves to embody the several subjects treated of, has the single merit of being composed of little incidents taken from real life.

The writer is greatly indebted to the Committee of the Incorporated Church Building Society for the use of most of the woodcuts which illustrate the volume.

W. F.

THE LICH-GATE

"These words which I command thee; thou shalt write them on thy gates."

Deut. vi. 6, 9.

"Who says the Widow's heart must break, The Childless Mother sink?-- A kinder, truer Voice I hear, Which even beside that mournful bier Whence Parent's eyes would hopeless shrink,

"Bids weep no more--O heart bereft, How strange, to thee, that sound! A Widow o'er her only Son, Feeling more bitterly alone For friends that press officious round.

"Yet is the Voice of comfort heard, For Christ hath touch'd the bier-- The bearers wait with wondering eye, The swelling bosom dares not sigh, But all is still, 'twixt hope and fear.

"Even such an awful soothing calm We sometimes see alight On Christian mourners, while they wait In silence, by some Churchyard gate, Their summons to the holy rite."

THE LICH-GATE

"Any port in a storm, Mr. Ambrose," said old Matthew Hutchison, as with tired feet, and scant breath, he hastened to share the shelter which Mr. Ambrose, the Vicar of the Parish, had found under the ancient and time-worn Lich-gate of St. Catherine's Churchyard. For a few big drops of rain that fell pattering on the leaves around, had warned them both to seek protection from a coming shower. "Ah, yes, my old friend," the Vicar replied, "and here we are pretty near the port to which we must all come, when the storm of life itself is past."

"I've known this place,--man and boy,--Mr. Ambrose, for near eighty years; and on yonder bit of a hill, under that broken thorn, I sit for hours every day watching my sheep; but my eye often wanders across here, and then the thought takes me just as you've said it, sir. Ah! it can't be long before Old Matthew will need some younger limbs than these to bring him through the churchyard gate;--that's what the old walls always seem to say to me;--but God's will be done." And as the old Shepherd reverently lifted his broad hat, his few white hairs, stirred by the rising gale, seemed to confirm the truth of his words.

"Well, Matthew, I am glad you have learnt, what many are slow to learn, that there are 'Sermons in stones,' as well as in books. Every stone in God's House, and in God's Acre--as our Churchyards used to be called,--may teach us some useful lesson, if we will but stop to read it."

"The name is better known in some parts of the country than it is here; but it is no new name, I assure you, for in the time of the Saxons, more than thirteen hundred years ago, it was in common use; but I will tell you all about this, and some other matters connected with the place where we now stand."

"I shall take it very kind if you will, sir, for you know we poor people don't know much about these things."

"Will you kindly tell us," said Mr. Acres, "how it is that there are so few remaining, and that of these there are probably very few indeed so much as four centuries old."

"Ah! sir," said the shepherd, "many's the poor heart-bowed mourner that's been comforted here with those words! They always remind me of Jesus saying to the widow of Nain, 'Weep not,' when he stopped the bier on which was her only son, and the bearers, and all the mourners, at the gate of the city."

"Yes! and all this makes us look on the old Lich-Gate as no gloomy object, but rather as a 'Beautiful Gate of the Temple' which is eternal,--a glorious arch of hope and triumph, hung all round with trophies of Christian victory. But I see the rain is over, and the sun is shining! so good-bye, Mr. Acres, we two shepherds must not stay longer from our respective flocks:--old Matthew's is spread over the mountains, mine is folded in the village below." The old shepherd soon took his accustomed seat under the weather-beaten thorn, the Vicar was soon deep in the troubles of a poor parishioner, and the young Squire went to the village by another way.

LICH-STONES

"Man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets."

Eccles. xii. 5.

"Say, was it to my spirit's gain or loss, One bright and balmy morning, as I went From Liege's lovely environs to Ghent, If hard by the wayside I found a cross, That made me breathe a prayer upon the spot-- While Nature of herself, as if to trace The emblem's use, had trail'd around its base The blue significant Forget-me-not? Methought, the claims of Charity to urge More forcibly, along with Faith and Hope, The pious choice had pitch'd upon the verge Of a delicious slope, Giving the eye much variegated scope;-- 'Look round,' it whisper'd, 'on that prospect rare, Those vales so verdant, and those hills so blue; Enjoy the sunny world, so fresh and fair, But'-- 'Priez pour les Malheureux.'"

LICH-STONES

"Good morning, Mr. Acres, and a happy Easter-Tide to you. This is indeed a bright Easter sun to shine on our beautiful Lich-Gate at its re-opening. I little thought on what good errand you were bent when last we parted at this spot. Hardly however had I reached my door when William Hardy came with great glee to tell me you had engaged his services for the work. May God reward you, sir, for the honour you have shown for His Church."

"And an old man's blessing be upon you, sir, if you will let Old Matthew say so; for the Church-gate is dearer to me than my own, seeing it has closed upon my beloved partner, and the dear child God gave us, and my own poor wicket shuts on no one else but me now."

"Thank you heartily, honest Matthew, and you too, sir," replied the squire, giving to each the hand of friendship; "I am rejoiced that what has been done pleases you so well. The restored Gate is in every respect like the original one, even to the simple little cross on the top of it. I have added nothing but the sentence from our Burial Office, 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord,' which you see over the arch, and which I hope will bring comfort to some, and hope to all who read it. But the work would never have been done by me, Mr. Vicar, had you not so interested Matthew and myself in these Lich-Gates when last we met. And so, as you see, your good words have not been altogether lost, I hope you will kindly to-day continue the subject of our last conversation."

"Most gladly will I do so; and as I have already spoken of the general purpose and utility of these Lich-Gates, I will now say a little about their construction and arrangement.

"Lich-Stones are,--though very rarely,--to be found at a distance from the churchyard; in this case, doubtless, they are intended as rests for the coffin on its way to burial.

"These simple memorials of Church architecture are very touching," replied Mr. Acres, as he rose to depart; "and the Lich-Stone deserves a record before modern habits and improvements sweep them away. They have a direct meaning, and surely might be more generally adopted in connexion with the Lich-Gate, now gradually re-appearing in many of our rural parishes, as the fitting entrance to the churchyard."

GRAVE-STONES

"When I am dead, then bury me in the sepulchre wherein the man of God is buried; lay my bones beside his bones."

"I've seen The labourer returning from his toil, Here stay his steps, and call the children round, And slowly spell the rudely sculptured rhymes, And in his rustic manner, moralize. We mark'd with what a silent awe he'd spoken, With head uncover'd, his respectful manner, And all the honours which he paid the grave."

"I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God's acre! It is just; It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust.

"Into its furrows shall we all be cast, In the sure faith that we shall rise again At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain.

"With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, And spread the furrow for the seed we sow; This is the field and acre of our God: This is the place where human harvests grow."

GRAVE-STONES

"And so, Matthew, the old sexton's little daughter is to be buried to-day. What a calm peaceful day it is for her funeral! The day itself seems to have put on the same quiet happy smile that Lizzie Daniels always carried about with her, before she had that painful lingering sickness, which she bore with a meekness and patience I hardly ever saw equalled. And then it is Easter Day too, the very day one would choose for the burial of a good Christian child. All our services to-day will tell us that this little maid, and all those who lie around us here so still beneath their green mounds, are not dead but sleeping, and as our Saviour rose from the grave on Easter Day, so will they all awake and rise up again when God shall call them. I see the little grave is dug under the old yew-tree, near to that of your own dear ones. Lizzie was a great favourite of yours, was she not, Matthew?"

"Ah, she was the brightest little star in my sky, I can tell you, sir; and I shall miss her sadly. She brought me my dinner, every day for near two years, up to the old thorn there, and then she would sit down on the grass before me, and read from her Prayer Book some of the Psalms for the day; and when she had done, and I had kissed and thanked her, she used to go trotting home again, with, I believe, the brightest little face and the lightest little heart in England. Well, sir, it's sorry work, you know, for a man to dig the grave for his own child, and so I asked John Daniels to let me dig Lizzie's grave: but it has been indeed hard work for me, for I think I've shed more tears in that grave than I ever shed out of it. But the grave is all ready now, and little Lizzie will soon be there; and then, sir, I should like to put up a stone, for I shall often come here to think about the dear child. Poor little Lizzie! she seemed like a sort of good angel to me,--children do seem like that sometimes, don't they, sir? Perhaps, Mr. Ambrose, you would be so good as to tell Robert Atkinson what sort of stone you would like him to put up."

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