Page:Duffy's Irish Catholic Magazine May 1847 p. 113.png

1847.] SCENES AND LEGENDS OF CLARE.

113 who will be devoted to their profession from the highest and purest motives; men who will cheerfully sacrifice emolument for the maintenance of their principles. On this subject, the recent translators of the first book of "Durandus' Rationale," make some admirable observations; the truthfulness and beauty of which, induce us to give them at full length in this place: "A Catholic architect must be a Catholic in heart. Simple knowledge will no more enable a man to build up God's material than His spiritual temples. In ancient times, the finest buildings were designed by the holiest bishops. Wykeham and Poore will occur to every churchman. And we have reason to believe, from God's word, from Catholic consent, and even from philosophical principles, that such must always be the case.

"Holy Scripture, in mentioning the selection of Bezaleab and Aholiab as architects of the tabernacle, expressly asserts them to have been filled with the in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass, and in cutting of stones to set them, and in carving of timber to work in all manner of workmanship. And this indeed is only a part of the blessing of the pure of heart, they see God the fountain of beauty, even in this life, as they shall see him the fountain of holiness in the next. From Catholic consent we may learn the same truth. Why else was ecclesiastical architecture made a part of the profession of clerksthan because it was considered that the purity and holiness of that profession fitted them best for so great a work?

"Nay, we have remarkable proofs that feeling without knowledge will do more than knowledge without feeling. Now, allowing the respectability which attaches itself to the profession of a modern architect, and the high character of many in that profession, none would assert that they, as a body, make it a matter of devotion and prayer—that they work for the church alone, regardless of themselves—that they build in faith and to the glory of.

"In truth, architecture has become too much a profession; it is made the means of gaining a livelihood, and is viewed as a path of honourable distinction, instead of the study of the devout ecclesiastic, who matures his noble conceptions with the advantage of that profound meditation, only attainable in the contemplative life, who, without thought of recompense or fame, has no end in view but the raising a temple worthy of its high end, and emblematical of the faith which is to be maintained within its walls. It is clear that modern architects are in a very different position from their predecessors, with respect to those advantages. We are not prepared to say that none but monks ought to design churches, or that it is impossible for a professional architect to build with the devotion and faith of an earlier time; but we do protest against the merely business-like spirit of the modern profession, and demand from them a more elevated and directly religious habit of mind. We surely ought, at least, to look for church membership from one who ventures to design a church. There cannot be a more painful idea than that a separatist should be allowed to build a house of God, when he himself knows nothing of the ritual and the worship of the church from which he has strayed; to prepare both font and altar, when perchance he knows nothing of either sacrament, but that he has always despised them. Or, again, to think that any churchman should allow himself to build a conventicle, and even sometimes to prostitute the speaking architecture of the church to the service of her bitterest enemies! What idea can such a person have formed of the reality of church architecture? Conceive a churchman designing a triple window, admitted emblem of the, for a congregation of Socinians! We wish to vindicate the dignity of this noble science against the treason of its own professors. If architecture is anything more than a mere trade; if it is indeed a liberal, intellectual art, a true branch of poesy, let us prize its reality and meaning, and truthfulness, and let us not expose ourselves by giving two contraries one and the same material expression.

"The church architect must, we are persuaded, make many sacrifices; he must forego all lucrative undertakings, if they may not be carried through upon those principles which he believes necessary for every good building, and particularly if the end to be answered, or the wants to be provided for, are in themselves unjustifiable or mischievous. Even in church-building itself, he must see many an unworthy rival preferred to him, who will condescend to pander to the whims and comfort of a church committee, will suit his design to any standard of ritualism which may be suggested by his own ignorance, or other's private judgment, who will consent to defile a building meant for God's worship, with pews and galleries, &c. But hard as the trial may be, a church architect must submit to it, rather than recede from the principles which he knows to be the very foundation of his art."

The examples of improved taste and feeling we have mentioned, though few, are nevertheless most encouraging, and give us an assurance, that by perseverance and zeal, truth, reality and Catholicity will again, as in the ages of faith, characterise our ecclesiastical architecture. In conclusion, we must confess, in the language of the good bishop who has been our guide, that "that which is worthy hath been taken from the sayings of others, whose words we have introduced," and beg the reader's indulgence for the imperfections of our own part of the task. For the present we have done, but we shall not be unmindful of the subject, and every help to the good work which we can afford, will be freely given in the pages of the

Callan's wild mountain so bleak and romantic, Fierce howls the rude blast of the stormy Atlantic, The cloud of the night o'er its summit is stealing, The mists roll above it—the thunder is pealing! Old legends are found in the lore of our island, And some have been told of this desolate highland, There Conan the swift, of the battle-chase weary, Long rests in his mountain-grave lonely and dreary. Beneath yon grey stone where the brown fern is sweeping, All silent and lone the dread warrior lies sleeping—