tus, and Cardinal Bona, have adduced the following reasons for this rule:—
- —That the apostles turned towards the east while at prayer.
- —That the Holy Spirit descended on them from the east on Pentecost.
- —That we should all turn towards the holy land where our Lord was born.
- —That as our Lord was the great light of the world, we should towards the brightest quarter of the world, as a figure of his glory.
- —That as our Lord was crucified looking towards the west, the roods, placed in the same position, face the faithful.
- —That the star appeared in the east to the three wise men at the birth of our Lord.
- —To distinguish the faithful from infidels and heretics who, being without faith or unity, turn in any direction.
- —That, according to the traditional belief of the Church, our Lord will come from the east to judge the living and the dead.
But independent of these mystical and pious reasons, the ancient and canonical position is the most judicious that could have been chosen. How beautifully do the rays of the rising sun, streaming through the brilliant eastern windows of the choir or chancel, darting their warm and cheerful light to the very extremity of the nave, correspond to the hymn appointed to be sung at prime:—
“Jam lucis orto sidere
Deum precemur supplices,
Ut in diurnis actibus,
Nos servet a nocentibus.”
Then, as the day advances, from the whole southern side a flood of light is poured into the building, gradually passing off towards evening, 'till all the glories of a setting sun, immediately opposite the western window, light up the nave with glowing tints, the rich effects being much increased by the partial obscurity of the choir-end at the time.”
“Now,” continues Mr. Pugin, “this beautiful passage of light from sunrise to sunset, with all its striking and sublime effects, is utterly lost in a church placed in any other than an ancient position. In short, there are both mystical and natural reasons for adhering to antiquity in this practice, a departure from which can only be justified under the most urgent necessity.”
In more advanced ages we find the necessity for larger churches producing new efforts in art, guided by the old principles, and harmoniously blending symbolism, fitness, and expression with sublime and beautiful effects. Churches were now built in the cruciform and tripartite arrangement, which were symbolical of the great dogmas of the Christian faith—the redemption of mankind, and the Trinity in unity. “In this case you will find the same great Christian verities, the Trinity and the atonement, expressed in a different, but perfectly consistent manner. The atonement is shadowed forth in the grand form of the church—the cross, which is the foundation of the whole. To signify the Holy Trinity, we have, first of all, the threefold division lengthwise into the nave, transepts, and choir; and then the threefold division breadthwise, of the nave or choir, and two aisles,
“Three solemn parts together twine
In harmony's mysterious line;
Three solemn aisles approach the shrine,
Yet all are one.”
In the exterior elevation, the two western towers, with the central tower, with which they are necessarily associated in the view of the whole building as we approach it, follow the same ternary arrangement; and in the interior elevation, we have the like in the three stories of the nave and choir, viz.: the first tier of arches, separating the nave and choir, respectively, from the aisles on either side; the triforium, and the clerestory.”[1]
Descending to the examination of minor details of arrangement, we find the same appropriateness, joined in most cases with the same suggestive symbolism. Thus, for example, the baptismal font was situate near the entrance door, to typify the admission of the newly baptized into the spiritual church, by their entrance to the material edifice. The chancel contained the piscina,[2] which was a niche in the side wall, with a ground drain, by which the water used by the priest at the ablution of his hands, was conveyed into the earth. The sedilia were seats, in which the priest and deacons sat during such parts of the Mass as were sung by the choir. They were generally raised one a little above the other, to accord with the steps of the altar, and to symbolise the different degrees of the clerical order; the priest sitting in the highest place, and the deacon and sub-deacon in succeeding graduation.
The subject of arrangement is in itself so extensive, that an attempt to examine it in all its features, would far exceed our present limits. Confining ourselves, however, to the few varieties we have mentioned, we think few persons will care to deny that they were strictly symbolical in spirit, and appropriate, in as much as they were apt adaptations of the means to the end required—the reception of the faithful within a material fabric to witness the solemn rites of religion, and the elevation of their souls to spiritual things, by material agencies. Who, even of our cold generation, could enter one of our primitive Irish churches, and not participate in the feelings so eloquently expressed by Mr. Petrie, in reference to their former state: “Yet in their symmetrical simplicity—their dimly lighted nave entered by its central west doorway, and terminated on the other side by its chancel arch, affording to the devout worshipper an unimpeded view of the brighter sanctuary in which were celebrated the Divine mysteries which afforded him consolation in this life, and hope in the next—in the total absence of every thing that could distract his attention—there is an expression of fitness to their purpose, too often wanted in modern temples of higher pretensions; as the artless strains sung to the Creator, which we may believe were daily hymned in these unadorned temples, were calculated, from their simplicity and artlessness, to awaken feelings of deep devotion, which the gorgeous artificial music of the modern cathedral but too rarely excites, even in minds most predisposed to feel its influences, and appreciate its refinement.” Or can any one doubt, on the other hand, that the varied play of light and shade, the multiplied perspectives, the indistinctness of some prospects, the seeming
- ↑ Rev. G. A. Poole.
- ↑ “Near to the altar, which signifieth Christ, is placed the piscina, or lavacrum, that is, the pity of Christ, in which the priest washeth his hands, thereby denoting that by baptism and penance we are purified from the filth of sin; which is drawn from the Old Testament. For he saith in Exodus, “And Moses made a laver of brass, with his basin, in which Aaron the Priest and his sons should wash, before they went up to the Altar that they might offer an offering.”—Durandus' “Rationale Divinorum Officiorum,” Lib. 1.
