SECTION XXXIII.

OF THE SIZE AND COST OF CHURCHES.

A VOLUME might be written with this title, and with whole chapters on matters which I must now either pass over altogether, or but briefly touch, for there is so much that might be said, that I hardly know what to say, and what to omit, or what to begin with. Since about 1820, there has been going on a perpetual subdivision of parishes and consequent multiplication of parish churches, the policy of which this is not the place to dispute, though I certainly agree with those who hold, that in towns it would be better economy to have a few large churches, each served by a numerous staff of clergy, and supplemented where necessary with dependent chapels, rather than, as now, a number of small buildings, whose very look suggests poverty, and each with its vicar working single-handed, or at best with the assistance of one curate. But, assuming that in any case a new church ought to be built. Then, first of all come the questions-How large ought it to be? and how much ought to be spent upon it? Now these questions have two sides, which may be called respectively the clerical side, and the lay or general side. And very often a building will excite our respect or our contempt,

according as we take the one or the other view. For reasons which we need not now stop to examine, church-building ceased in England about the middle of the sixteenth century, and for nearly three hundred years, during which the population continued to increase, the increase in the number of churches was so small as to be insignificant, whilst at the same time, the usefulness of those there were was very greatly reduced by the growth of the private pew system. And even now, in spite of what has been done during the last fifty years, both in the building of new churches, and the throwing open of the old, the church accommodation is still far below the needs of the people. There are hundreds of places where people are lapsing into schism or heathenism, simply because there is no church for them. Where such is the case, nobody knows it so well, or feels it so much, as the parson himself, who is possibly blessed with a magnificent income of £300 a year, out of which it is obvious he can build no new church, however much he may be convinced of the necessity of one. What, then, can he do? He tries to get some other people interested in the matter, but they do not see it as he does; one gives a small subscription, and another a small subscription, and at last, after a great deal of begging and scraping, the anxiety and labour of which ought not to have been thrown upon the parson at all, two or three thousand pounds are got together. Mr Flick is called upon to furnish a design, and in due time there rises what the newspapers are pleased to call a "neat

Gothic edifice," and our friend the parson has at length the satisfaction of seeing the hitherto neglected district, with its own church, incumbent, churchwardens, and the whole parochial machinery, complete. Now, after all the trouble and unpleasantness which he has had about it, it is surely hard for the good man to be told that his work is contemptible. To have placed a church and a priest in a neighbourhood, where before even a Methodist meeting-house would have been a blessing, is surely no small thing. The work certainly is not contemptible— but the building may be.

Now let us look at the matter from the other point of view. Any shed reasonably well lighted, and large enough, will serve the purpose of a church, and where no better can be had, its use as such is both lawful and praiseworthy. But a community of Christian men living comfortably, each in his own station of life, ought to be ashamed either to build, or to allow to be built in their midst, a church, of which no better can be said than that it serves its purpose. Even taking no higher view than that the church is the chief public building in the parish, men's pride should prevent their suffering it to be worse than the best they can make it. And that it is not so, is, I am convinced, to be accounted for by the meeting-house view of the church, and by the concomitant abuse of the private pew system, which have made men cease to regard the church as a public building at all. They see in it not the open temple of God, towards, and in which, all the parishioners have without

distinction equal duties and equal rights, but the private meeting-house of the few-limited to the number which the church will hold at one time-to whom the seats are parcelled out.I It is quite natural for them to argue, that the building should be cared for by those for whose use it is reserved. And, although the abuse which caused it has happily now been removed in many places, the feeling still remains, and will remain for many years yet to come. Indeed, it cannot wear out until the removal of the cause is general, instead of, as now, only partial. Meanwhile we must be content to regard our churches as congregational, rather than parochial, and the better a church is worked, the more nearly will it approach to its parochial status. But even with this limitation, the majority of our modern parish churches are most mean and paltry in comparison with what they ought to be, and what the congregations could well afford to make them.

Now, I believe that in nine cases out of ten, it is not the stinginess of the congregation, but the timidity of its first projectors, which is to blame for the shabbiness of a new church. Most men are quite ready to admit in the abstract, that considering its high purposes a church ought to be a magnificent building, and I do

1 It does not make a pin of difference whether money is received for the pews or not. It is strange that men will not see that the compromise called, "free but appropriated," has all the disadvantages of the lettingout system, without its one advantage of being a reliable source of income. If private individuals do "appropriate" what belongs to the public, they ought at least to be made to pay heavily for it.

not think that they are now less willing to contribute of their substance to make it so, than they were in the Middle Ages,' whilst since then, wealth has greatly increased, and the cost of building is much less than it then was. But the fact is, that they are asked for little, and they give little. A poor church is built merely because it is imagined that money cannot be found to make it any better, and, once built, its very meanness prevents its being improved, because it prevents people from taking any personal interest in it. For, compare the sums which are raised by subscription and spentwhether well or ill is not now the question-upon the old churches, which men do take an interest in. I know an instance, where, in a town of no great size, in about twelve years, between £20,000 and £30,000 has been spent not in rebuilding, but in repairing and refurnishing the old parish church, and now they have begun to fill the windows with painted glass, upon which many thousands more will be spent ; yet in the very same town, there are several modern churches,

1 There is a popular opinion that all old churches were built by power. ful magnates or rich corporations, as indeed monastic and collegiate churches often were. But the parish churches were built and furnished very much as they are now "by subscription." And a fine church indicates not so often a rich benefactor, as a generally prosperous community. It is also commonly believed that building was formerly much cheaper than now. The old accounts which remain seem to show that, proportionally to the value of money, wages were then higher than at present; whilst for material, the mere cost of carriage must have been enormous; and it was sometimes brought from long distances; for instance, much of the stone at Westminster Abbey comes from Dorsetshire and Yorkshire, and the nearest, I believe, from Reigate.