start from the chancel, and consequently will have to be fetched from the west end of the church every time it is wanted.

Instances might be multiplied, but these two are sufficient to show that the reproduction of old work, even if accurate, is not necessarily suited to modern wants. I do not wish to deprecate the study of our old churches. On the contrary, I would have them more diligently studied than they are for they are our best guides—but intelligently. It is the spirit, not the form, which we should seek to imitate. The old churches were arranged to suit the old conditions, and as the conditions varied the builders did not hesitate to make the buildings vary also; and to such an extent that even in their present state it is often possible to ascertain what were the special conditions under which churches were built, and thereby to distinguish a parochial from a collegiate, and a secular from a regular church, and even to point out to what particular order the church may have belonged. It is just this same kind of difference which there ought to be between a modern church and the old. The requirements of a modern church are not more different from those of the old than they were from one another. And if we honestly plan our building accordingly, we shall find it to have far more affinity with the old than have those wretched productions of modern mediævalism, where we see comparatively small churches with nave, aisles, tower, transepts, and an eastern arm too long for a sanctuary and too short for a chancel; and inside, fittings which do not fit, pews facing

all ways, north, south, east, and even west, like pens in a cattle market, choir seats here under the tower, here east of it, there floating about between the two, and right nowhere; whilst the organ is thrust out of sight anywhere, perhaps, in some remote cockloft over a vestry, or even a porch, because the architect never saw an "old example," and does not know what to do with it.

As one step towards the return to rational church designing, I have ventured to put forth in the following pages a few considerations with respect to some of the more general and obvious matters. But I wish it to be understood that I have no intention to dogmatise, to say, "This thing is right and nothing else." Το do so would be but to set up a sort of "correctness' of my own. I always give my reasons, and my conclusions must be judged by them. My object is not to force my opinions on other men, but to induce them to think for themselves; and if any one can suggest an improvement on any point, I shall myself be the first to accept it. It may be said that some of the points exa-. mined are insignificant matters, about which it is useless to trouble ourselves. But surely, if public worship is granted to be anything better than a solemn shạm, nothing connected with it can be called unimportant or unworthy of our most careful consideration. And, even if we are indifferent to these things ourselves, we build for posterity, and we have no right to entail upon them the results of our carelessness.

As for symbolism, which some people would have us believe was the ruling influence in the old plans, I dc

not think it had anything in the world to do with them. Ceremonial was sometimes symbolical, as also were some of the decorations of the churches, but the churches themselves were arranged to suit the practical requirements of those who were to use them. Fanciful people, it is true, sometimes gave mystical interpretations to the arrangements after they were made, and indeed Durandus himself, the prophet of symbolism, often gives alternative interpretations for different arrangements of the same thing, as, for instance (“Rationale,” lib. iv. cap. x. n. 2), where, having explained the three chains of a censer as setting forth the three unions in the person of Christ, he suddenly says, "Quidam enim quartam unionem rssignant . . . . unde et quædam turibula quatuor catenulas habent." If any one chooses to think that the maker of a censer sat down to consider which of these theological theories seemed to have the most authority, and having made up his mind arranged for three or four chains accordingly, he is at liberty to do so; but if he does, I hope he will acknowledge, as lib. i. cap. i. n. 24–26 bids him, that the windows were not put in the church to let in light but to symbolise the Holy Scriptures, nor the pillars to hold up the roof, but to represent the bishops and doctors of the church.

SECTION II.

OF THE GENERAL PLAN.

THE difference between the requirements of a mediæval and of a modern church affect this more than the details of arrangement. In the Middle Ages, as a rule, there were several altars, even in the smallest parish churches, but now there is generally but one, and under ordinary circumstances more than two are never wanted. This change renders unnecessary the long transepts and the numerous side chapels which were introduced for the reception of minor altars. Another modification is introduced by the great size of our modern organs. Formerly organs were rare, and small; now every church has, or hopes to have, its organ, and the instrument has become so large as to require a special provision in the plan for its accommodation. Moreover, in old churches the space was in excess of the requirements, whereas now, on the contrary, the requirements are almost always greatly in excess of the space at command. This necessitates a compactness in modern plans, which in the old ones was unnecessary.

But leaving antiquity out of the question, let us

consider how we may dispose the plan, so that it may best suit the uses to which the building is to be put. We have to provide, first, for the convenient performance of the services, whether at the altar or in the choir; and secondly, for the accommodation of the congregation assisting at the services. Our church then will contain three main divisions, the place of the people, the place of the choir, and the place of sacrifice, or, as we usually say, the nave, or body of the church; the choir, and the sanctuary or presbytery, each of which parts requires to be considered by itself and in its relations to the other two.

It is, and has been, the custom in England to place the choir between the sanctuary and the nave. In some churches, in various parts of the Continent, the choir is behind the altar, whilst in Spain we find the congregation placed between them. Of these three arrangements the first must now be adopted, even granting that the other two are equally advantageous. For tradition ought always to be respected, unless it can be shown that the proposed innovation is also an improvement. But in the case we are now considering, the usual plan is the best; for by it the choir are made to take the place of the leaders of the congregation. Reverence requires that the sanctuary should be fenced off from the public part of the church; and it is a usual and

1 This seems to have been the name most often used in England during the Middle Ages, and it is still traditionally retained in many of our cathedrals; though curiously it has often come to be used for the space behind the altar.