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

CHAPTER XXII

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 screen132. 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 away133. 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 stone134, 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 gallery135 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 rood136, 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 church137. 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. 1710138.' 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

"I hope you and my friend Mr. Beeland here are now working harmoniously together at Droneworth," said Mr. Ambrose to Sir John Adamley, as with Mr. Acres and the Vicar of Droneworth they were enjoying a pleasant afternoon stroll in the gardens of the Hall.

"Well, I think we must say yes and no to that, for though we have never had any difference of opinion respecting the restoration of our church since the evening when I first had the pleasure of meeting you – and, indeed, I am proud, and we are all proud, of our renovated and beautiful church – yet there is one point on which we cannot quite agree. You see I am Lay Rector, and though I have long ago given up my old selfish idea about pews, and only claim the space in the church which I really want to occupy, yet I do consider that, as the chancel belongs to me, I have a right to a place there for my family and servants, as well as for myself. But, unfortunately, Mr. Beeland thinks otherwise."

"The chancel is furnished with handsome oak stalls for the choristers, I believe; as every chancel ought to be. You propose, if I understand you, to remove the choristers, and to occupy the stalls for yourselves and servants?"

"I think I have a right to do so."

"The right is very doubtful. The position of a lay rector is altogether an anomalous one; but the duty and the privilege connected with it are, to my mind, definite and plain enough. The duty is to keep out the wind and water from the chancel, the privilege is to receive the great tithes of the parish. Now, of course, this privilege and duty were originally never intended to be associated with other than a spiritual office. The tithes were for the support of the parish priest, and in return for them, there was laid upon him not only the spiritual supervision of the parish, but also the duty of keeping the shell of that portion of the church which was occupied by him and the assisting clerks sound and entire. Now, of course, the rector, being a priest, had a right to his proper place in the chancel; and I by no means deny that the lay rector succeeds to the same right; but my belief is that the right (if any) extends no farther than himself. He represents the clerical rector, who certainly could only claim a right to a seat for himself, and it is my opinion the layman can claim no more. But, my dear sir, this is surely a case where higher considerations than mere legal rights should have influence. Even if you have the right, ought you not to waive it? For you cannot doubt that the chancel was never built to supply seats for the Squire's family, but for the priest and those whose office it is specially to assist him in leading the prayers and praises of the congregation. No church is properly ordered where the chancel stalls are not occupied by the choir; and you can only rightly occupy a place there as one of them. So I venture to advise you to follow the example of our friend Mr. Acres, and next Sunday put on a surplice, and take your place as a member of the choir, for you have a good bass voice, which would be of great assistance there."

"So you really think my claims as a lay rector should come down to this?"

"Nay, I think they should come up to this, for your highest, as well as most fitting office as a lay rector, is to assist in his duties the Vicar of your parish."

"Well, I will think about that. You have studied these matters much more deeply than I have, and you always have the best of the argument. But I have something more to say. I should like to have your opinion as to the proper arrangement and furniture of the whole of the chancel139, for ours has not yet been completed, and I have undertaken to finish it."

"I will gladly give you my opinion on the subject. Of course, the altar should be the central and principal object in the church. For this reason, the east of the chancel should be the highest part, but for evident reasons the whole of the chancel should be higher than the nave140. There should be a marked difference between the chancel – or choir, and the sanctuary – or space immediately surrounding the altar; a difference which had its type in the 'Holy Place' and the 'Holy of Holies' of the Jewish temple. The lectern– or desk, from which the lessons are read, and the faldstool– or Litany desk, may be either just without or within the chancel screen. The sedilia141– a stone recess for the seats of the officiating clergy, with the piscina142– should be on the south side, and the credence143 table may be on the north or south side of the altar. The reredos144, at the east end of the chancel, should be the most costly and elaborate part of the church, as it is connected with the most dignified portion of the building. Its most prominent feature should be the symbol of our salvation, and whatever adornment is employed, it should have distinct reference to the 'sacrifice of the death of Christ.' Empty niches should here and every where be carefully avoided; for they have little beauty and no meaning. Without their tenants, they are ridiculous forms of ornamentation, for the corbel – or bracket, has no meaning unless it is intended to support a figure, nor its canopy, unless intended to shelter and protect one. I have seen slabs containing epitaphs and the armorial bearings of private persons, as well as the royal shield, substituted for a proper reredos, but this is a sad profanation145. There is one thing worse; and that is engraving armorial bearings on the sacred vessels. The prayer desk146 should form part of the choir stalls, and look in the same direction; this desk should not face the congregation, as the priest does not preach the prayers to the congregation, but says the prayers with them. When the Absolution is said, the case is different, and the propriety of the change of posture and position is evident. This is directly addressed to the congregation, and to be 'pronounced by the priest standing.' So in the Communion Office the Priest is directed to stand up, and, turning himself to the people, pronounce the Absolution."

"I quite acknowledge the justness of what you say on these points, and shall gladly avail myself of your further counsel; specially I shall be grateful for your advice respecting the construction of the altar, and providing its proper furniture: but I have now already trespassed so long on your time, that I must only ask you to explain one thing more, and that is the meaning of the two little hollow square places in the north wall of our chancel."

"They formerly were closets, and had doors, no doubt, of carved oak. They are commonly called almeries, and are to be found in all old churches, their use in the chancel being to hold the sacred vessels used at the altar; even where they can no longer be utilized, they ought to be preserved as objects of interest147."

CHAPTER XXIV

THE ALTAR

It was late in the evening before the other guests had left the Hall, and our four friends sat down together in the library, without fear of interruption, to continue the conversation of the afternoon.

"I should like you to tell me, Mr. Ambrose," said Sir John, "whether you consider that the word altar is properly applied to a table made of wood."

"Oh, most certainly it is. The term is equally applicable, whether the altar be made of wood or stone. No doubt stone was the material first used148, yet at so early a period as the building of the tabernacle, we read that God commanded Moses to make an altar of wood149. In the earliest days of the Christian Church the altars were, probably without exception, made of wood; but afterwards it became the practice to erect them of stone, and from the sixth150 to the sixteenth century this rule was all but universal."

"How is the change to be accounted for?"

"During the persecutions of the early Christians under the heathen Emperors of Rome, they resorted, as you are aware, to the subterranean catacombs there, as the only places where they could, in comparative safety, hold their religious services. Here the stone altar-tombs of those who had suffered martyrdom offered the most convenient and fitting altars for the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. In after times, when the Church was prosperous and at peace, the remembrance of these altar-tombs not only suggested the material for the Christian altar, but also the custom of erecting it over the relics of saints and martyrs. This custom of building the altar over the bones of martyrs (which is still continued in the Roman Church, but which has for many years ceased to be the practice in our own), is, moreover, supposed to have reference to that mysterious vision in the Revelation of St. John, which you will remember he thus describes: 'When the Lamb had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the Word of God, and for the testimony which they held151.'