Pugin's Apology (Published 1843)

A RELIGIOUS MAN AND A MAN OF CONVICTION.

 

Augustus Welby Pugin converted to Catholicism around 1834. His conversion had a profound impact on his work, leading him to design and refurbish numerous Catholic churches and promote the Gothic Revival style in architecture.

An Apology for the Revival of Christian Architecture in England argues for a return to Gothic architectural principles, emphasising that true Christian architecture reflects faith, tradition and local heritage. Pugin criticises the classical architectural revival for its inconsistency and lack of spiritual significance, advocating instead for designs that embody the religious and cultural values of the community. Pugin highlights the importance of incorporating historical styles that are both beautiful and meaningful, promoting a revival that aligns with England's religious traditions and historical continuity.

 

Get to know the man, read on…

 

AN APOLOGY FOR THE REVIVAL OF CHRISTIAN ARCHITECTURE IN ENGLAND.

 

(Published 1843 by Augustus Welby Pugin – Edited Version 2025 by architecturalprints.co.uk)

 

A Period of Change in English Art

The age in which we live (1843) is a most eventful period for English art. We are just emerging from what may be termed the dark ages of architecture. After a gradual decay of four centuries, the style, for there was a style, became so execrably bad that the cup of degradation was filled to the brim. As taste fell to its lowest depth, a favourable re-action commenced.

 

A Convulsion in the System of Arts

The breaking up of this wretched situation naturally produced a complete convulsion in the whole system of arts, and a Babel of confusion succeeded the one bad idea that generally prevailed. Private judgment runs riot; every architect has a theory of his own, a beau ideal he has himself created a disguise with which to invest the building he erects. This is generally the result of his latest travels. One breathes nothing but the Alhambra, another the Parthenon, a third is full of lotus cups and pyramids from the banks of the Nile, a fourth, from Rome, is all dome and basilica, whilst another works Stuart and Revett (British Architects) on a modified plan, and builds lodges, centenary chapels, reading-rooms, and fish-markets, with small Doric work and white brick facings.

 

The Carnival of Architecture

Styles are now adopted instead of generated, and ornament and design are adapted to, instead of originated by, the edifices themselves. This may indeed be appropriately termed the carnival of architecture: its professors appear tricked out in the guises of all centuries and all nations; the Turk and the Christian, the Egyptian and the Greek, the Swiss and the Hindoo, march side by side and mingle together. Some of these gentlemen, not satisfied with perpetrating one character, appear in two or three costumes in the same evening.

 

Misuse of National and Catholic Architecture

Amid this motley group (oh! miserable degradation!) the venerable form and sacred detail of our national and Catholic architecture may be discerned; but how is it adopted? Not on consistent principle, not on authority, not as the expression of our faith, our government, or our country, but as one of the disguises of the day, to be put on and off at pleasure, and used occasionally as circumstances or private caprice may suggest.

 

Misguided Use of Styles

It is considered suitable for some purposes, melancholy, and therefore fit for religious buildings! A style that an architect of the day should be acquainted with, in order to please those who admire old things, a style in which there are many beauties: such is the heartless advocacy which our national architecture frequently receives from its professed admirers; while others, even in the most influential positions, venture to sneer at and insult its principles, either because they are far beyond their comprehension or because they are so besotted in their mongrel compositions that they tremble at the ascendancy of truth.

 

The True Position of Christian Architecture

The object of this tract is, therefore, to place Christian architecture in its true position, to exhibit the claims it possesses on our veneration and obedience, as the only correct expression of the faith, wants, and climate of our country. If it fails in doing this, it will be due rather to the incapacity of the author in doing justice to this most important subject, than to any want of truth in the proposition itself.

 

Flawed Arguments

The arguments used by both the advocates and opponents of pointed architecture have been most fallacious. They have consisted, for the most part, in mere private views and opinions relative to the comparative abstract beauty in the different styles; and these, as might be expected, have proved most inconclusive.

 

True Principles of Architecture

To advocate Christian architecture merely on the score of its beauty can never prevail with those who profess to think that all art and majesty are concentrated in a Grecian temple. We must turn to the principles from which all styles have originated. The history of architecture is the history of the world: as we inspect the edifices of antiquity, its nations, its dynasties, its religions are all brought before us. The beliefs and manners of all people are embodied in the edifices they raised; it was impossible for any of them to have built consistently otherwise than they did: each was the inventor and perfecter of their peculiar style; each style was the type of their religion, customs, and climate.

 

The Perfection of Styles

The abstract beauty of these various styles, when viewed with reference to the purposes for which they were raised, is great; indeed, they are the perfection of what was intended. A follower of Brahma or Isis, a fire-worshipper of Persia, could not have produced anything different from what they have done; and so truly did these edifices embody the principles and worship of their builders that the discovery of a certain form of temple or peculiar symbols is at once admitted as evidence of the existence of a certain people and religion in that place. More than that, by architecture and ornament alone, learned men of the present time are enabled to make the most important discoveries relative to the history of nations, whose very existence is anterior by many centuries to the Christian era.

 

Modern Architectural Confusion

Will the architecture of our times, even supposing it solid enough to last, hand down to posterity any certain clue or guide to the system under which it was erected? Surely not, it is not the expression of existing opinions and circumstances, but a confused jumble of styles and symbols borrowed from all nations and periods.

 

Violation of Architectural Principles

Are not the adapters of pagan architecture violating every principle that regulated the men whose works they profess to imitate? These uncompromising advocates of classic styles would be utterly repudiated by the humblest architect of pagan antiquity, were he now to return to earth. Vitruvius would be appalled if he beheld the works of those who glory in calling him master.

 

Consistent Application of Classic Principles

The restorers of Christian architecture are more consistent followers of classic principles than all these boasted Greeks; they understand antiquity and apply the ancient consistent rules to the new dispensation. The moderns, in their pretended imitation of the classic system, are constantly producing the greatest anomalies, and we are called upon to admire their thrice-cooked hashes of pagan fragments (in which the ingredients are amalgamated in utter confusion) as fine national monuments of the present age.

 

Advocacy for Pointed Design

I have not infrequently been denominated by the perpetrators of these absurdities as a fanatic for pointed design, a blind bigot insensible to, and ignorant of, any beauty but that of the Middle Ages. So far from this, I much question if I am not better acquainted with the principles on which the various styles of pagan antiquity were founded than many of their warmest advocates. I believe them to be the perfect expressions of imperfect systems, the summit of human skill expended on human inventions: but I claim for Christian art a merit and perfection, which it was impossible to attain even in the Mosaic dispensation, much less in the errors of polytheism. The former was but a type of the great blessings we enjoy, the latter, the very antipodes to truth, and the worship of demons.

 

Understanding Non-Christian Architectural Forms

I can readily understand how the pyramid, the obelisk, the temple, and pagoda have arisen; whence the arrangement of their plan, and the symbols which decorate them have been generated. I am prepared to join in admiration at the skill which piled such gigantic masses on each other, which fashioned so exquisitely each limb and countenance; but I cannot acknowledge them to be appropriate types for the architecture of a Christian country.

 

The Necessity of Christian Architecture

If we worshipped Jupiter, or were votaries of Juggernaut, we should raise a temple or erect a pagoda. If we believed in Mahomet, we should mount the crescent and raise a mosque. If we burnt our dead, and offered animals to gods, we should use cinerary urns and carve sacrificial friezes of bulls and goats. If we denied Christ, we should reject his Cross. For all these would be natural consequences. But, in the name of common sense, whilst we profess the creed of Christians and glory in being Englishmen, let us have an architecture whose arrangement and details remind us of our faith and our country, an architecture whose beauties we may claim as our own, whose symbols have originated in our religion and our customs. Such an architecture is to be found in the works of our great ancestors, whose noble conceptions and mighty works were originated and perfected under a faith and system, for the most part, common with our own. The difference between us and our English forefathers, on examination, will prove slight indeed compared with those nations from whom we have been accustomed to borrowing our types over the last century as being the best suited to our present habits.

 

Historical Context of Christian Architecture

Before entering the necessary details in support of this position, it may not be amiss to say a few words about Christian architecture. It has been frequently objected by the advocates of paganism that the pointed style, especially Christian, was not developed until several centuries after the crucifixion of our Lord. But this is measuring the ways of God by mere human capacity. How long were the chosen people of God allowed to exist before the erection of the great temple of Jerusalem was permitted? Did not the skins of the desert typify the polished stones of that wondrous structure? And may we not say that the foundations of Cologne were commenced in the catacombs of the eternal city? Like Protestants who rail at ecclesiastical solemnity because it is not found in the persecuted church of the apostles, they urge the non-existence of spires under Roman emperors as proof that they were not generated by the Christian principle. But modern men constantly refer to the church in her suffering state, described by our Lord as a grain of mustard-seed, while they refuse to recognise her when she extended triumphant in beauty and luxuriant foliage over the earth.

 

The Trial of Christian Architecture

How could the divine character of Christ's church have been made manifest to future generations, except by passing through an ordeal of poverty and bitter persecution of more than three centuries and triumphing over the powers of the world and darkness without human aid? Those were not times for the cultivation of material arts, but the foundations of every Christian temple, spire, and pinnacle were then laid so firmly that we may build on them until doomsday without fear of sinking or decay. Byzantine, Lombard, Saxon and Norman were all various developments of Christian architecture on a cruciform plan with Christian symbols. Pointed architecture was the crowning result of these earlier efforts, which may be considered the centring on which the great arch was turned.

 

The Shift in the Sixteenth Century

The change which took place in the sixteenth century was not a matter of mere taste but a change of soul. It was a great contention between Christian and pagan ideas, in which the latter triumphed, and for the first time inconsistency in architectural design was developed. Before that period, architecture had always been a correct type of the various systems in which it was employed. But from the moment Christians adopted the fatal mistake of reviving classic design, the principles of architecture have been plunged into miserable confusion.

 

Deviation from Traditional Principles

Initially, the deviation from traditional architectural principles began with the substitution of a bastardised form of Italian detail for the ancient masses. This is particularly striking in French buildings erected during the reign of Francis the First, where high-pitched roofs, lofty turrets and chimney stacks, cresting buttresses, string courses, and mullions—all the natural and consistent features of ancient design—are retained but adorned with pagan capitals, friezes, and arabesques.

 

Example: Church of St. Eustache in Paris

One of the most remarkable examples of this period is the Church of St. Eustache in Paris. It is perfectly Christian in its plan and arrangement, being cruciform, with double aisles and lateral chapels, a grand apse and Lady Chapel, triforium, clerestory, pinnacles, flying buttresses, immense height, and all the features of a noble pointed church. However, it is marred by debased Roman mouldings, cornices, and details, with canopies over the images composed of small pediments and domes. The builders of the so-called Renaissance opened the floodgates of innovation, but they hadn't lost the natural composition; they only decorated what they required in an inconsistent manner. The temple and regularity system had not yet taken hold.

 

Persistence of Old Principles

Down to the last century, many of the old principles were retained in both domestic and ecclesiastical buildings. However, it is only in comparatively recent times that error and inconsistency have reached their zenith—flattening and concealing roofs, disguising chimney stacks, building sham windows, covering over brick walls, and dressing up Italian masses with pointed details gathered from all styles, dates, and buildings.

 

Lost Opportunities

Never in the annals of architecture have so many glorious opportunities been offered, in such a short space of time, for the accomplishment of noble buildings. Within my own recollection, three royal palaces, half the metropolis, countless churches, vast restorations, entire colleges in both universities, galleries, civic buildings, bridges, hospitals, houses, and public monuments in every possible variety have been constructed. Yet, except for the New Houses of Parliament, not one of these edifices does not pain us as a monument of national art.

 

Inconsistency of Design

Every chance has been thrown away as it presented itself. There has been ample money for the various works, in many instances far more than required, yet the cause of these failures can be summed up in three words: inconsistency of design. In no instance has the purpose or destination of the building formed the groundwork of the composition. Grecian or Gothic, ecclesiastical or civil, it has been a mere system of adaptation. One man has adapted a temple, another a castle, a third an abbey, but temples, castles, and abbeys owed their existence to wants and systems foreign to those for which they have been employed, and utter failure is the natural result.

 

The Importance of Natural Expression

Had the various buildings been allowed to tell their own tale, to appear in their natural garb, whether rich or simple, what variety and interest our architectural monuments would present! But no, public buildings, it was said, could not be Gothic and therefore must be Grecian, with pediments and porticos. The reasons assigned were: first, that Gothic was very expensive (a falsehood); and second, that they would not be in character.

 

The Absurdity of Concealing Design

How an edifice that consists of doors, windows, walls, roofs, and chimneys, when consistently treated with these various features made parts of the design, can be less in character than a building where they are concealed and disguised, is impossible to imagine. Yet this utterly false and absurd view has taken such hold on the minds of the million that pointed architecture is considered out of the question for public offices, law courts, bridges, and similar structures. The erection of the Parliament Houses in the national style is the greatest advance yet gained in the right direction.

 

Missed Architectural Integrity

Although it is impossible to note in this tract a hundredth part of the monstrous inconsistencies in every modern erection, it is necessary to notice some recent examples to illustrate the truth of my position.

 

Example: Railways

The railways, if treated naturally, afforded a fine scope for grand, massive architecture. Little more was required than buttresses, weathering, and segmental arches to resist lateral and perpendicular pressure. Merely following out the required work to its natural conclusion, building exactly what was needed in the simplest and most substantial manner, could have saved tens of thousands of pounds on every line and produced grand and durable masses of building. Instead, inconsistency and vanity led to ridiculous results whenever something sublime was attempted at the stations.

 

Colossal Grecian Porticos

Architects considered these opportunities to show off their abilities rather than carrying out what was needed. Hence, colossal Grecian porticos or gateways 100 feet high were built for cabs to drive through and set down a few feet further at the 14-foot brick wall and sash-window booking office. This piece of absurdity must have cost the company a sum which would have built a first-rate station, replete with convenience and grand from its simplicity.

 

Disregard for Building Purpose

In every instance, there is striking proof of the utter disregard paid by architects to the purpose of the buildings they are called upon to design. Thousands have been thrown away on show fronts and inconsistent and useless decoration.

 

Cemetery Companies and Architectural Absurdities

The new Cemetery Companies have perpetrated the grossest absurdities in the buildings they have erected. Of course, there is a superabundance of inverted torches, cinerary urns, and pagan emblems, tastefully disposed by the side of neat gravel walks, among cypress trees and weeping willows. The central chapel is generally built on such a comprehensive plan as to be adapted (in the modern sense) for each sect and denomination in turn, as they may require its temporary use; but the entrance gateway is usually selected for the grand display of the company's enterprise and taste, being well-positioned to induce persons to patronize the undertaking by purchasing shares or graves.

 

Consistent Architectural Principles

Although it would be absurd and inconsistent to employ the same detail and enrichments on all sides of a building placed in an enclosed position, yet the spirit of construction should remain unchanged, even in the meanest offices. By simple chamfers and weathering’s—the mere essentials of good masonry—the character is perfectly maintained in every portion of the old buildings. Most importantly, it is naturally maintained, meaning it would be impossible to improve upon them in any other way. Details of this kind do not require designing but constructing.

 

For instance, the best gate must be the strongest framed; the sharp edges must be taken off the stiles and rails without weakening the joints and shoulders. They are chamfered and stinted, and the gate must and will look admirably well, in character with a pointed building, because a pointed building is a natural building. In matters of ordinary use, a man must go out of his way to make a bad thing. Hence, in some rural districts where workmen have not been influenced by modern ideas, barns, sheds, and similar structures were built and framed, until very recently, on true old principles, with braces, knees, and the high pitch.

 

The Future of Pointed Architecture

So little, however, do most modern architects appreciate beautiful effects produced by natural combinations and construction, that in most pointed buildings, they design mere fronts, giving up all minor details in despair as being too expensive to carry out. When, in fact, when treated consistently, they cost less than the ordinary sort of fittings and are twice as durable. This point is so important that I trust, before long, to produce a treatise on Natural Architecture, where all these matters will be considered in detail.

 

The progress the revival of pointed architecture has made within the last few years is most surprising. If it continues at this rate, many architects of the day will find it difficult to look upon their present works in a few years' time. In my own case, I can truly state that in buildings erected but a short time ago, I can perceive numerous defects and errors which I would not now commit. A few years ago, I perpetrated abominations. Until I discovered the laws of pointed design, set forth in my "True Principles," I had no fixed rules to work upon, frequently falling into error and extravagance. I designed and drew from an intuitive feeling for Christian architecture.

 

Architectural Inconsistencies and Absurdities

The new cemetery companies have perpetrated gross absurdities in the buildings they have erected. There are, of course, a superabundance of inverted torches, cinerary urns, and pagan emblems tastefully disposed beside neat gravel walks, among cypress trees, and weeping willows.

 

The central chapel is generally built on a comprehensive plan to be adapted (in the modern sense) for each sect and denomination as they may require its temporary use. However, the entrance gateway is usually selected for the grand display of the company's enterprise and taste, as it is well-positioned to induce people to patronize the undertaking by purchasing shares or graves. This is generally Egyptian, probably from some association between the word "catacombs" (which appears in the company's prospectus) and the discoveries of Belzoni on the banks of the Nile. Nearly opposite the Green Man and Dog public-house, in the centre of a dead wall (which serves as a cheap medium for advertisements for blacking and shaving-strop manufacturers), there is a cement caricature of the entrance to an Egyptian temple, 21 inches to the foot, with convenient lodges for the policeman and his wife, and a neat pair of cast iron hieroglyphical gates which would puzzle even the most learned to decipher. To prevent any mistake, some words such as "New Economical Compressed Grave Cemetery Company" are inscribed in Grecian capitals along the frieze, interspersed with hawk-headed divinities, and surmounted by a huge representation of the winged Osiris bearing a gas lamp.

 

The Inconsistency of St. Paul's School

The new building of St. Paul's School is another flagrant instance of the inconsistency of modern design. As soon as the architect received the commission to erect a building for this ancient foundation, he turned to his stale collection of pagan authors for the authorities and details of an edifice. The result was an unmeaning portico raised on stilts, serving only to darken the apartments over which it projects, an incipient dome, and a pagan frieze.

 

This wretched jumble of incongruities has cost twice the amount—and I speak advisedly—for which a truly appropriate structure, in accordance with the founder's intentions, could have been erected. It is probable that the architect never studied the life and intentions of Dean Colet, the learned and worthy ecclesiastic to whose pious munificence the school owes its existence. Had he done so, he might have been moved to give some natural expression to the building intended to fulfil so pious a design. The Dean's intentions were most edifying; the ancient edifice was dedicated in honour of the Child Jesus, and the founder evidently wanted to present our Redeemer as an obedient Child, knowing all things, Lord of all, yet subject to his earthly parents, to the youthful inmates. What could have better infused the principles of a holy life into the scholars' minds?

 

Failure of Christ's Hospital's New Buildings

The new buildings of Christ's Hospital, although free from the absurdities of paganism, are utterly deficient in the spirit of ancient design and arrangement. The opening towards Newgate Street might be mistaken for the back way to the Compter, or a place where relatives might hold intercourse with the inmates of that prison. Although the tops of the posts which hold the gas lamps are ornamented with some canopy work, they look exceedingly modern and are another striking proof of the futility of employing decoration without the spirit of the old masters.

 

Importance of Natural Construction

The hospital, being destined for a place of study and education, should have been bounded towards the street with a lofty and massive enclosure wall, entered through a regular tower gatehouse, like those in the universities, with an image of the founder in a niche, the arms of the city and the hospital in the spandrels, and appropriate legends and inscriptions. One fine cloistered quadrangle of the original monastery was standing; another could have been added, with the refectory and necessary buildings in the same severe style.

 

The new dining hall is designed on principles opposite to those which influenced the ancient builders. The walls of the old refectories were comparatively low, with a high pitch of roof; here, the walls are enormously high, with lofty windows like a chapel, covered by a flat roof. To worsen the case, the building's roof is not the ceiling of the hall; this is a mere lath-and-plaster imitation several feet below the actual covering. This edifice is only Gothic on one side; if the spectator turns the corner, they perceive an elevation not dissimilar to that of the Fleet Prison towards Farringdon Street.

 

Misuse of Pointed Masks in Modern Architecture

This wretched principle of making pointed masks for buildings pervades nearly all the designs of leading architects today. They work only for show and effect, neglecting every portion of the building that does not meet the public eye. At Lambeth Palace, I was particularly struck, upon opening a door from the new buildings (intended to be pointed and externally detailed) to find myself in a kitchen court that might as well have been in the rear of the Euston Hotel. The architect had evidently laid aside his Gothic domino, switching to the regular sash-window style while under the lee of his principal elevation, resuming his disguise as soon as he shot out into public observation.

 

Consistent Architectural Principles

Although it would be absurd and inconsistent to employ the same detail and enrichments on all sides of a building placed in an enclosed position, yet the spirit of construction should remain unchanged, even in the meanest offices. By simple chamfers and weathering’s—the mere essentials of good masonry—the character is perfectly maintained in every portion of the old buildings. Most importantly, it is naturally maintained, meaning it would be impossible to improve upon them in any other way. Details of this kind do not require designing but constructing.

 

For instance, the best gate must be the strongest framed; the sharp edges must be taken off the stiles and rails without weakening the joints and shoulders. They are chamfered and stinted, and the gate must and will look admirably well, in character with a pointed building, because a pointed building is a natural building. In matters of ordinary use, a man must go out of his way to make a bad thing. Hence, in some rural districts where workmen have not been influenced by modern ideas, barns, sheds, and similar structures were built and framed, until very recently, on true old principles, with braces, knees, and the high pitch.

 

Modern Architects and Natural Design

So little, however, do most modern architects appreciate beautiful effects produced by natural combinations and construction, that in most pointed buildings, they design mere fronts, giving up all minor details in despair, as being too expensive to carry out. When, in fact, treated consistently, they cost less than the ordinary sort of fittings and are twice as durable. This point is so important that I trust, before long, to produce a treatise on Natural Architecture, where all these matters will be considered in detail.

 

Revival of Pointed Architecture

The progress the revival of pointed architecture has made within the last few years is most surprising. If it continues at this rate, many architects of the day will find it difficult to look upon their present works in a few years' time. In my own case, I can truly state that in buildings erected but a short time ago, I can perceive numerous defects and errors which I would not now commit. A few years ago, I perpetrated abominations. Until I discovered the laws of pointed design, set forth in my "True Principles," I had no fixed rules to work upon, frequently falling into error and extravagance. I designed and drew from an intuitive feeling for Christian architecture, influenced by the numerous examples I had seen. I entered all the beauties of the style, but I did not apply them with the feelings and principles of the old architects. I was only an adapter, often guilty of gross inconsistency. However, from the moment I understood that the beauty of architectural design depended on its being the expression of what the building required, and that for Christians, that expression could only be correctly given through pointed architecture, all difficulties vanished. I am quite satisfied that when this principle becomes generally understood, good, consistent, and picturesque masses of building will arise, with all the variety and beauty of olden times.

 

Acknowledging Architectural Efforts

It would have been difficult to find anyone who could have done much better than the architect employed. It is a positive duty to point out all these defects to prevent others from falling into similar errors. At the same time, we cannot help but feel respect for a man who endeavoured to revive the old ways when there were few to sympathize or encourage.

 

The Costly Absurdities of the Bank of England

The street elevations of the Bank of England are certainly the costliest masses of absurdities ever erected. It appears to have been the aim of the architect to perpetrate as many unreal features as possible in a wall. Sometimes there is a row of blank windows; sometimes a blocked-up entrance, five feet from the ground. The wall is set back to diminish the internal space, with a row of columns occupying its place, well railed up to prevent anyone from getting under the recess. The wall rises up to make a break and support some stone urns and amphorae, hiding the chimney stacks and skylights. The grand feature is the north-west angle, terminated by a portico, which, in addition to having its doorway blocked up from the beginning, has its pavement several feet above the street, without steps or means of access, laid with spikes (!!!) thickly interspersed with fragments of decaying orange peel, stones, sticks, and bats, thrown there by little boys who used to climb up and get behind the columns before the introduction of the Chevaux-de-Frise.

 

It is impossible to state the vast sums expended on the various absurdities of this inconsistent building, but at a moderate computation, they would have erected the edifice, with all possible convenience and strength, in a massive and appropriate character, three times over; and there would still have been a good balance in hand for other purposes.

 

Misguided Architectural Judgment

Unfortunately for themselves and the public, the Bank Directors appear to have more money than architectural judgment. Hence, unmeaning features and details are crowded together to make their buildings costly. The Soanean eccentricities in which they have indulged for so long seem only to have led them to continue the meretricious system under another management, if we may judge by the decorations of the New Dividend Office, where a room for the mere transaction of ordinary business is overloaded with all sorts of unmeaning plaster ornament, stuck up without the slightest propriety or reference to the purpose of the building.

 

The Failures of Rebuilt Halls

The halls of the various companies that have been rebuilt at such an enormous cost are truly distressing to look upon. The origin and history of these companies, connected as they are with that of the city itself and many illustrious characters, afforded a fine scope for appropriate decoration in both windows and on walls. For a hall, a noble roof of oak, with quaint device and legend, with dais and oriel, would seemingly have suggested itself as a matter of course to the architect, especially since many of the ancient buildings formerly belonging to these companies are figured in topographical works. The old kitchen, with its chimney and louvre, the buttery, and capacious cellarage in vaulted crypt beneath the hall, formed so many beautiful features of the ancient design: the rich sideboards of plate, the portraits of departed worthies, the banners and devices that hung aloft, the appropriate 'subtilties' that garnished the feast—all described by the old chroniclers—could have inspired good ideas.

 

A Lack of Vision in Modern Architecture

Instead, we have a square mass with a few meagre lines and breaks, Ionic caps, and a flat pediment, which is the extent to which the imaginations of the great architects of the day could reach. At the main entrance into the city, one of the richest companies has erected a building vastly resembling the sort of edifices they set up for commercial banks in larger provincial towns.

 

The Disgrace of the Guildhall's Roof

The present roof of the Guildhall is an abomination and disgraceful to the civic authorities. The lower portions of the vast room are beautiful in character; if the ancient roof were restored with all its appropriate devices, enriched with colour and gilding, the Guildhall would be worthy of the city and second only to the regal hall at Westminster. The expense of its restoration would be a small matter for such a body, and the effect would surely far more than repay the outlay.

 

The Misguided New Royal Exchange

In the New Royal Exchange, we have another stale dish of ill-adapted classicisms—heavy, dull, and uninteresting, with nothing to awaken national or civic associations in the minds of the citizens. Surely, the annals of one of the most ancient capitals of Europe might have suggested appropriate ideas for its Exchange, where the London worthies of successive centuries, with their bearings and devices, might have filled each niche. The effigies of these men, many of whom rose from poverty and obscurity by humble industry to wealth and high distinction, would serve as incitements for the imitation of this and successive generations.

 

The Dignity of London's Edifices

Every edifice erected by the citizens of London should embody the dignity and character of the first commercial city in the world. It should bear the impress of its antiquity, its honour, and its privileges. Why should civic Splendor be confined to an annual water excursion or a single procession? The banners, badges, and devices of the various Companies, Crafts, and Guilds that compose the freemen of London are beautiful and appropriate ornaments that should be carved on cap and wall as well as painted on banner and scutcheon.

 

The Importance of Honouring Skill and Trade

Those who regard these matters as childish toys are mistaken in their estimate; they are honourable distinctions of skill and trade, invented by older and wiser men than most of those who compose this generation of innovators. They form the ties of fraternal intercourse and charity, afford protection in decay and distress, and no one can peruse the annals of London without admitting that the various companies have been productive of immense good and were instrumental in preserving the honourable character once synonymous with an English merchant. The abuses that may exist among these companies and the degeneracy manifested in their buildings and ornaments form no argument for their abolition. On the contrary, they should incite those in authority to revive the original practices and dignity of their various societies and to invest their buildings with appropriate decorations and symbols that carry local character and interest, the distinguishing feature of the ancient buildings of London.

 

Missed Opportunities in the New Royal Exchange

The absence of elements in the architecture of the New Royal Exchange designed to awaken local associations is lamentable. We see nothing but huge pilasters, cornices, columns, and pediments—the same features repeated endlessly, whether in front of hotels, preaching-houses, newsrooms, or museums. This was a fine opportunity to restore the arched ambulatory, buttressed quadrangle, high-crested roofs, and turrets of old English architecture, with a lofty bell tower of grand proportions, like those remaining in the Flemish towns and formerly found in all our cities. Such a structure might have housed a fine peal to herald in the civic solemnities, with chimes for the successive hours of the day, large clock faces visible from all cardinal points, and surmounted by a grove of gilded vanes, overtopped by the famous grasshopper of Gresham.

 

Such a building, carried out with arms, badges, images, and appropriate detail, would have been an ornament and illustration of the city in which it was erected, admirably adapted for the convenience of business, and certainly no more costly than the present unmeaning pile.

 

Systemic Failures in Modern Architecture

The faults of this structure, in common with modern buildings in general, are not so much due to individuals as to a systemic issue. How can we hope for good results with the current principles of architectural education? Can we ever expect a Christian architect to emerge from the Royal Academy itself, where deadly errors are instilled in the mind of the student from the very rudiments of instruction? Pagan lectures, pagan designs, pagan casts and models, pagan medals, and, as a reward for proficiency, a pagan journey! When a youth's mind is infused with contempt for every association connected with his religion and country, he is sent forth to measure temples, returning in due time to form the nucleus of a fresh set of small Doric men, and to infest the country with classical adaptations in Roman cement.

 

If architectural offices were shut down, fused as they serve wasps' nests in the country, we would be freed from a mass of poisonous matter that still deposits in these places. Given the means, I would place architectural studies on such a footing that the glory of these latter days would surpass that of the former. I would have traveling students, but their limits would be circumscribed: Durham for some, Lincolnshire's steepled fens for others, Northampton spires and Yorkshire's venerable piles, Suffolk and Norfolk's coasts, Oxford, Devonshire, and Warwick. Each county should indeed be a school, for each is a school where those who run may read, and where volumes of ancient art lie open for all inquirers.

 

The Importance of Observation

The student should visit village and town, hamlet and city. He should be a minute observer of the animal and vegetable creation and the grand effects of nature. The rocky coast, the fertile valley, the extended plain, the wooded hills, the river's bank—all these are grand points to work upon. The ancient builders adapted their edifices to localities so well that they seemed as if they formed a portion of nature itself, grappling and growing from the sites in which they are placed.

 

Embracing Local Materials

The rubble stones and flinty beach furnish stores as rich for the natural architect as the limestone quarry or granite rock. What beautiful diversity the face of this dear island presents! What a school for study and contemplation, where twenty-four cathedrals, the finest monastic buildings, thousands of parochial churches, and interesting remains of antiquity lie within a boundary of a few hundred miles!

 

Integrating Faith and History

The student of Christian architecture should also imbue his mind with the mysteries of his faith, the history of the Church, and the lives of the glorious saints and martyrs it has produced in all ages, especially those connected with the remains of ancient piety in this land. He should be well acquainted with the annals of his country, its constitutions, laws, privileges, dignities, the liturgy and rubrics of the Church, customs and ceremonies, topographical antiquities, local peculiarities, and natural resources.

 

Restoring Local Interest and Tradition

The face of the country would no longer be disfigured by incongruous and eccentric erections, compounds of all styles and countries. Instead, we would have structured whose arrangement and detail align with our faith, customs, and natural traditions. Climate would again regulate forms of covering and positions of buildings. Local interest would be restored, and English architecture would assume a distinct and dignified position in the history of art. We do not wish to produce mere servile imitators of former excellence, but men imbued with the consistent spirit of the ancient architects, who would work on their principles and carry them out as the old men would have done, had they been placed in similar circumstances and with similar needs.

 

Addressing Paganism's Objection

The main objection raised against reviving our ancient architecture by the advocates of paganism is the significant difference between present habits and necessities and those that existed when pointed architecture flourished. However, it is not difficult to prove that while we have nothing in common with Pompeian villas and Greek temples, the ancient churches and mansions provide perfect types for our present purposes. To illustrate this crucial subject, I have detailed the intimate connection between the existing system and English antiquity.

 

Consistency in Religious Communities

Among the English clergy in communion with the Holy See, there can be no doubt. They hold the same faith and, in essentials, retain the same ritual as the ancient English Church. They require the same church arrangement, symbols, and ornaments as were general in this country before the schism. The various religious communities are bound by the same rule to recite the same office and perform the same duties as those who erected and used the many solemn buildings now, alas, in ruins, scattered across the land. These communities, at least, cannot plead novelties for their paganism; and in the English Catholic body, the connection with ancient practices and architecture is evident and enduring.

 

Of a truth, if architectural offices were stopped up, and fused as they serve wasps' nests in the country, we should be freed from a mass of poisonous matter still depositing in these places. God grant me the means, and I would soon place architectural studies on such a footing that the glory of these latter days should be even greater than that of the former.

 

Proposed Reforms

I would also have traveling students, but I would circumscribe their limits. Durham the destination of some, Lincolnshire's steepled fens for others, Northampton spires and Yorkshire's venerable piles, Suffolk and Norfolk's coasts, Oxford, Devonshire, and Warwick—each county should be a school, for each is a school, where those who run may read, and where volumes of ancient art lie open for all inquirers.

 

Then would they learn that the same perfection of design is found in the simplicity of the village steeple as in the towering central spire; in the rubble walls of a sea-coast chancel as in the hewn ashlar and fair mouldings of large churches. Consistency of architectural proportion has stunted the pillars of the simple nave and roofed it with massive beams, while it has lifted the shafts of the cathedral to a prodigious height and vaulted the vast space with stone. Architectural skill consists in embodying and expressing the structure required, not in disguising it by borrowed features. The peasant's hut, the yeoman's cottage, the farmer's house, the baronial hall—each can be perfect in its kind.

 

The student should visit village and town, hamlet and city. He should be a minute observer of the animal and vegetable creation and the grand effects of nature. The rocky coast, the fertile valley, the extended plain, the wooded hills, the river's bank—all these are grand points to work upon. The ancient builders adapted their edifices to localities so well that they seemed as if they formed a portion of nature itself, grappling and growing from the sites in which they are placed.

 

The rubble stones and flinty beach furnish stores as rich for the natural architect as the limestone quarry or granite rock. What beautiful diversity the face of this dear island presents! What a school for study and contemplation, where twenty-four cathedrals, the finest monastic buildings, thousands of parochial churches, and interesting remains of antiquity lie within a boundary of a few hundred miles!

 

Integrating Faith and History

The student of Christian architecture should also imbue his mind with the mysteries of his Faith, the history of the Church, and the lives of those glorious Saints and Martyrs it has produced in all ages, especially those connected with the remains of ancient piety in this land. He should be well acquainted with the annals of his country, its constitutions, laws, privileges, dignities, the liturgy and rubrics of the Church, customs and ceremonies, topographical antiquities, local peculiarities, and natural resources.

 

The face of the country would no longer be disfigured by incongruous and eccentric erections, compounds of all styles and countries; instead, we would have structured whose arrangement and detail are in accordance with our Faith, customs, and natural traditions. Climate would again regulate forms of covering and positions of buildings. Local interest would be restored, and English architecture would assume a distinct and dignified position in the history of art. We do not wish to produce mere servile imitators of former excellence, but men imbued with the consistent spirit of the ancient architects, who would work on their principles and carry them out as the old men would have done, had they been placed in similar circumstances and with similar wants to ourselves.

 

The great objection raised against the revival of our ancient architecture by the advocates of paganism is the great difference between the present habits and necessities and those that existed when pointed architecture was most flourishing. But, in reply to this difficulty, it will not be hard to prove that while we have nothing in common with Pompeian villas and Greek temples, the ancient churches and mansions furnish us with perfect types for our present purposes. To illustrate this most important subject, I have set forth in detail the intimate connection between the existing system and English antiquity.

 

Relevance for the Clergy

For that portion of the English clergy in communion with the Holy See, there can be no doubt. They hold precisely the same faith and, in essentials, retain the same ritual as the ancient English Church. They require precisely the same arrangement of church, the same symbols and ornaments, as were general in this country before the schism. The various religious communities are bound by the same rule to recite the same office and have the same duties to perform as those who erected and used the many solemn buildings now, alas, in ruins across the land. These, at least, cannot plead novelties for their paganism; and in the English Catholic body, there is a clear continuity with the ancient practices and architecture.

 

Any departure from Catholic architecture is utterly inexcusable. It can only be accounted for by extreme ignorance or extreme perverseness, both equally disgraceful. The plea of poverty cannot be admitted, for it is well known that churches erected on Catholic traditions are less costly than pagan rooms. In Ireland, where the externals of religion are positively shocking and painful to behold, immense sums subscribed by the zeal of the people have been squandered on architectural absurdities.

 

There is no country in Europe where the externals of religion present as distressing an aspect as Ireland. In the rural districts, one sees extreme poverty, dirt, and neglect, while in the large towns, there is a lavish display of the vilest trash about the altars and burlesques of classic or pointed design for churches—both costly and offensive. A bad copy of that wretched compound of pagan and Protestant architecture, St. Pancras New Church in London, has been erected at Ardagh and dignified by the name of a cathedral. The Irish journals are lavish in their praise of this and similar structures, boasting of them as honourable examples of national skill, as if there were anything national in these importations of English and continental abortions.

 

Reviving Ireland's Architectural Heritage

If the clergy and gentry of Ireland possessed one spark of real national feeling, they would revive and restore the solemn piles of buildings which formerly covered that island of saints and are associated with the holiest and most honourable recollections of her history. Many of these were indeed rude and simple, but massive and solemn, harmonizing perfectly with the wild and rocky localities in which they were erected. Real Irish ecclesiastical architecture could be revived at a considerably lower cost than is currently spent on monstrosities. The ignorance and apathy of the clergy on this important subject are truly deplorable. They seem wedded to bad, paltry, and modern ideas, even with a people who are perhaps the most deserving of solemn churches among all existing Catholic nations. These people would fully embrace the spirit and use of the ancient buildings if they had them—men whose faith no temporal loss or suffering could subdue, who rise before daybreak and traverse miles of country to assist at the divine office, and who would enthusiastically welcome any return to the solemn rites of their forefathers.

 

If religion in Ireland were to resume its ancient solemnity in externals, it would indeed be a spectacle for angels. However, the current absurdities, indecencies, and vulgarities in matters connected with divine worship are so distressing that, despite the edifying piety of the people and the exemplary conduct of many clergy, it is impossible to attend the celebration of religious rites without feeling acutely pained and distressed.

 

Revival of Catholic Art

The revival of Catholic art has so far been the result of the amazing zeal of a few noble and devout individuals rather than the spontaneous act of the body. So-called Catholic periodicals must cease to talk of splendid Grecian altars and solemn consecrations where some fiddler and his pupil delight the audience with their strains. Only then can they occupy their proper and dignified position as the restorers of Catholic architecture and solemnity.

 

The Spread of Good Ideas

It is consoling to know that good ideas are spreading, but humiliating to think there should be room for spreading ideas and opinions that should fill the heart of every British Catholic, animating them as one in the glorious and holy cause. While a few great spirits devote their fortune and energies to reviving departed solemnity, others with equal means are content to look on with apathy, if not to oppose their labours actively. Some reject tradition and authority, espouse paganism, and follow Protestant monstrosities, with the externals of a temple and the interior of a conventicle. The multitude neither knows nor cares about the matter.

 

Scandalizing Devout Minds

Men of devout minds are scandalized by the foreign trumpery introduced on the most solemn occasions and the noisy theatrical effects substituted for the solemn chants and hymns of the Church. These things are distressing on the continent, though modified by the vastness of the churches and remains of antiquity. But here, in England, performed in buildings similar to assembly rooms, they are intolerable and must convey to the casual and uninstructed spectator the lowest idea of Catholic rites. It is painful to see these wretched practices puffed up in Catholic journals and described much like in the Theatrical Observer, listing performers and critiquing the execution of solos and quartets during the Holy Sacrifice, which fills even the angels with awe and reverence.

 

Since Christ hung abandoned and bleeding on the Cross of Calvary, never has so sad a spectacle been exhibited to the afflicted Christian as in many modern Catholic chapels. Here, the adorable Victim is offered up by the priests of God's Church, disguised in miserable dresses intended for sacred vestments, surrounded by a scoffing audience of Protestant sightseers who have paid a few shillings to grin at mysteries they do not understand and hear the performances of an infidel troop of mercenary musicians hired to sing symbols of a faith they disbelieve and mock.

 

Anglican Church Architecture

With respect to the present Anglican Church, the case is, of course, by no means as clear and positive. However, if she acted on her current acknowledged doctrines and discipline, without considering any probable change in her position, she must turn to Catholic antiquity for the types of her architecture and ornament.

 

This argument is based on principles and formularies, for abuses cannot be either advanced or received in support of any position. I am not considering the various grades of opinion and practice found among those acting as Anglican clergymen. I deal only with canons and rubrics, and if these were properly and universally carried out, a significant move would be made in the right direction.

 

Preservation of Parochial Churches

The ancient form and arrangement of parochial churches, consisting of nave and chancel, should be preserved. The words respecting the latter are as follows: "The chancels shall remain as in times past." Although it is a notorious fact that they did not so remain, their desecration was chiefly due to the mass of illiterate functionaries who, on the deprivation of the Catholic ecclesiastics under Elizabeth, were intruded not only into parochial cures but into the chairs of the ancient bishoprics. In truth, the so-called reformers of the reign of Edward the Sixth and Elizabeth, and even the compilers of the Common Prayer, were far more Protestant than the formularies retained and to which they subscribed, hoping to effect further mischief and advance puritanism rather than restore departed solemnity.

 

The Role of Primate Laud

Under the Primate Laud, a surprising reaction took place. It was unfortunate and unsatisfactory in result but an evident proof of the Catholic feeling which would have developed in the Anglican Church had it not been for the pressure of the puritan faction. To return to the words as they stand, "The chancels shall remain as in times past," can there be any reasonable doubt as to the propriety of strictly adhering to the ancient models, of which so many truly beautiful examples remain for imitation?

 

Importance of Towers and Spires

A tower for bells is required. This important feature of a church was never omitted in England, even during the most debased period of ecclesiastical architecture. A tower naturally suggests a spire as its termination; where else can we obtain a consistent type for church steeples but from those glorious churches whose entire architecture and arrangements were generated by the peculiar needs of Christian rites? This is evident to all on inspecting the wretched attempts at classic steeples, where pediments and porticos, pillars and cornices are piled upon each other like children's card houses, making up an elevation without any grand connecting lines or consistent arrangement, mere forced, unnatural combinations most offensive to the eye, evident endeavours to create a vertical effect from horizontal architecture. The rage for these pedimented and telescopic steeples is nearly over, and ancient spire-crowned towers, adapted to any scale or degree of decoration, must be universally restored.

 

Opposition to Modern Abominations

A most laudable opposition has been awakened both against the erection of galleries and the modern abomination of pews, which are equally intolerable. We may fairly hope to see both utterly abolished before long. It is not difficult to show that an ancient church nave, with its pillars, aisles, low open carved oak benches, and southern porch, is the proper model for present imitation.

 

Fonts

There is no alteration allowable for ancient usage regarding the fonts. They are required to stand in their original position, with covers secured by locks. These covers may be made as lofty and ornamental as circumstances permit. Many were executed during the reigns of James and Charles I and, although debased in detail, are designed in the mass on ancient principles, with a multitude of pinnacles and lesser canopies. Notable examples can be found at Newcastle-on-Tyne and Durham Cathedral.

 

Pulpits

Properly placed on one side of the church, pulpits are not only unobjectionable but necessary. Numerous examples, both of wood and stone, are found in ancient English churches, and the ambones of the basilicas are of primitive antiquity. Pulpits become offensive only when placed in the centre of the church, obscuring the altar and turning the preacher's back to the sacred mysteries. They should not be too elaborate or overly large. Regarding the reading pew and clerk's desk, these are modern introductions; a brass or wooden lectern and a litany stool are sufficient and in accordance with ancient practice.

 

Chancel Screens

In many cases, the chancel screens remain perfect, retaining much of their ancient painting, gilding, and imagery of saints and apostles. They were never removed by authority, only due to private ignorance or love of innovation. Far from being opposed to Anglican custom, they are mentioned as necessary in old episcopal visitations. An example of an Italian-detail screen of the old form was erected in the church of St. Peter, Cornhill, London, during the last century. The choir screen of Wadham College Chapel, Oxford, consecrated in 1613, is an interesting specimen of the continuity of the old traditional separation in the 17th century.

 

Stone Altars

The consecrated stone altars were sacrilegiously demolished and profaned by the Protestant party during Edward VI's reign and again in the second year of Elizabeth's reign, aiming to abolish the idea of a sacrificial oblation among the people. However, their revival was attempted under better circumstances during Charles I's reign. Surely, those who grant the authorities of Edward's time the right to demolish cannot deny the same right of restoration to their successors at a later period. Stone altars placed at the eastern end of the chancel will likely be generally revived, with frontals of canonical colours suited to festivals and richly embroidered with appropriate devices. These frontals should not be covered during communion, as the white linen cloth need only be slightly wider than the altar's top and should hang down at each end. The use of lighted tapers on the altar is warranted by the instruction that such ornaments as were in use in Edward VI's second year shall be maintained. Candlesticks, covers of the holy gospels, and chalices should follow ancient forms and decorations.

 

Clergy Chairs

The two chairs placed on either side of the communion table are a very modern and unseemly introduction, as they have their backs to the East. There is no reason why the clergy, when sitting, should not occupy the sedilia, especially in cathedral churches, where the canon for communion requires the officiating priest to be attended by a gospeller and epistler.

 

Decorations and Imagery

There is no doubt about the propriety of decorating churches with sacred symbols and imagery. Representations of the life of our blessed Redeemer and the works and martyrdoms of the saints are highly edifying. The destruction of ancient stained glass resplendent with sacred imagery was mostly carried out by avowed Puritans. Even during the worst periods, some good souls preserved many of these glorious works. York Cathedral is particularly rich in this respect, and many parochial churches retain significant glass. The Catholic chapter of Amiens Cathedral, for example, removed much of the magnificent glass in the nave during the last century, replacing it with white panes to improve effect. This kind of loss can be understood considering that modern Catholic ecclesiastics in France and Belgium have removed not only stained glass but also the mullions and tracery to increase lighting in the church.

 

In an excellent article in the British Critic, the writer observes that circumstances have changed so much over the last three centuries that some of the most violent innovators, had they lived in our age of lax indifference, would have acted and written very differently. This observation applies equally to the use of images. There is no current fear of sacred representations being regarded with superstitious reverence; the danger now is that men will lose all remembrance of the glorious mysteries they represented if holy symbols and figures are replaced with pagan fables or bare walls. It is admitted that, contrary to true Catholic doctrine, some images were once regarded with superstitious veneration by the ignorant, and certain representations tolerated in churches were objectionable. These matters would likely have been reformed without scandal by the decrees of the Council of Trent. It is absurd and unjust for people to continually dredge up old extravagant indulgences and local practices condemned centuries ago by ecclesiastical decrees.

 

The purpose of sacred images is to elevate the spectator's heart from the figure to the reality, instructing the faithful in the mysteries of religion through lively representation. This principle is acknowledged by modern biblical illustrations for youth education. The Church requires the honour and veneration for sacred symbols that their character naturally demands, comparable to the respect given to the holy Name of Jesus in the Anglican Church, or the external respect shown to the throne in the House of Peers. Sacred imagery is a noble field for the highest powers of art, and painting and sculpture devoted to the Church's service can profoundly elevate a nation's religious feelings.

 

Conclusion

To sum up, if the Anglican Church requires bell towers, spires, naves, chancels, screens, fonts, altars, sacred symbols, and ornaments, the types of these features are found in the ancient, pointed churches of England, not in the classic temples of antiquity. Thus, even in its present position, by its existing canons and rubrics, the Anglican Church is bound to work exclusively on Christian architecture principles and renounce all pagan adaptations.

 

Collegiate Establishments

Regarding collegiate establishments that have continued in uninterrupted succession since their original foundation and are still supported by the pious munificence of their founders and governed by their ancient statutes, there cannot be any doubt about the propriety—if not the absolute duty—of erecting new buildings in the same style and spirit as those originally constructed. I emphasize both spirit and style because it is insufficient merely to cut tracery and build buttresses and pinnacles. This has been done at great cost and with miserable effect at King's and other colleges at Cambridge. The essential aspect is to preserve the scholastic gravity of character, and the reverend and solemn appearance found in the ancient erections.

 

Any departure from Catholic antiquity in a college is unpardonable. The frequent daily services in the chapel, the assembly of the community in the refectory, the enclosure, the academic costume, and the celibacy of the inmates are relics of ancient discipline that demand a continuation of the original architecture. In instances where this has been neglected, not one can be pointed out that is not a miserable failure and a compound of anomalies. Are Queen's, Worcester, or the new quadrangle of Christ Church to be compared for one instant with Merton, New College, or Magdalen? They more resemble sick hospitals or barracks of the last century than abodes of piety and learning. Colonnades, pediments, and heathen gods are but poor substitutes for solemn cloisters, high turrets, and images of reverend founders and saintly patrons.

 

Consistent Collegiate Spirit

During the early 17th century, under the influence of the Laudian school, some collegiate buildings were erected in a far more consistent spirit than recent examples. Among these, the chapel of Peterhouse at Cambridge is remarkable: though the detail is debased, it was a very successful attempt for the period. The tracery windows are filled with stained glass; the east window, of five lights, contains the Crucifixion of our Lord with many saints and angels in the tracery. The roof is wagon-headed, supported on corbels; the western bay forms an antechapel, divided off by an oak screen, with double rows of oak stalls and a large sanctuary within.

 

Richer Decorations in the Chapel of Peterhouse

This chapel must have been far richer in decoration when originally founded, as the report of the parliamentary writers in 1643 indicates: > "We went to Peterhouse and pulled down two mighty angels with wings, and divers other angels, with the four evangelists, and Peter with his keys, on the chapel door, together with about one hundred cherubim, and many superstitious letters in gold."

 

This account shows the correct intentions that actuated the collegiate builders of that period, excluding paganism from their designs. It is monstrous now, with a better understanding of ancient detail and greater execution facilities, to see vile compounds of Italian details rising amid the glories of Catholic antiquity in both Oxford and Cambridge. However, it is some consolation that neither of these edifices is intended for collegiate purposes but as show galleries. They may not remain even for that purpose when the true principles of Catholic architecture are more widely disseminated among university members.

 

Hospitals for the Poor

Hospitals for the poor should be erected in a style that is both simple and religious. The aged should be provided with cloisters for sheltered exercise, a common hall and kitchen, separate lodging chambers, and a chapel for daily devotion. Religious emblems and memorials of their benefactors should constitute the only decorations, interspersed with pious scriptures and moral legends. Beautiful examples of these truly Christian institutions can be found in the ancient hospitals of Stamford, Leicester, Northampton, and Coventry, and even in the later foundations of Whitgift at Croydon and Abbott at Guildford.

 

Conclusion on Religious Edifices

In summary, the religious edifices of England, if designed consistently, should be arranged on the same principles as the ancient buildings erected by our Catholic forefathers. They must, of course, fall short of the glorious solemnity that can be attained only in a truly Catholic position. However, as far as they go, they should align with English antiquity and not the slightest with classic arrangement and detail.

 

Sepulchral Memorials

These are so intimately connected with ecclesiastical architecture that it is necessary to provide some details on the subject before proceeding to other matters. The principal reason assigned by sculptors for resorting to classic costume in their monumental designs has been the unsightly form of modern habits, which would render the effigy of the deceased ludicrous in appearance if represented with them.

 

This would be true if it were necessary or correct to adopt the ordinary costume of domestic life in such cases. However, it is scarcely possible to find any person sufficiently dignified in station to warrant an effigy who does not hold some official position, either ecclesiastical, civil, or military, whose robes and insignia, if properly and severely represented, would produce effigies little inferior in solemn effect to the ancient ones. To represent persons of the present century in the costume of the 14th century is no less inconsistent than to envelope them in the Roman toga. Architecture and art should be a consistent expression of the period, and adhering strictly to these principles will allow us to revive the most solemn and Christian memorials of the dead.

 

Civil Personages

The sovereign should be represented in the Royal robes used in the coronation, which are the same as those used in the days of St. Edward. There is no reason not to substitute appropriate and better-designed ornaments for those generally embroidered, and a more beautiful form of crown than that currently in use. A recumbent effigy, habited in these robes with the orb and sceptre, would not be inferior in dignity and effect to the truly royal monuments in Westminster Abbey and would form an admirable contrast to the miserable memorials of the English sovereigns of the last century at Windsor.

 

Nobility

The various ranks of nobility should be represented in the state robes peculiar to their degrees, adorned with family badges and heraldic distinctions. Knights of the Garter or other orders should be depicted with their mantles, collars, and other insignia, with the lion and dog—emblems of courage and fidelity—couchant at their feet. For high tombs, the niches around the sides can be appropriately filled with smaller effigies of relations, dressed as mourners, along with their shields of arms. These features, frequently found in ancient monuments, could be revived with great propriety.

 

Judges, Heralds, and Civic Functionaries

Judges should be represented in their robes, heralds in their tabards, Doctor of Medicine and music in the habit of their degrees, and aldermen and civic functionaries in their gowns of office. For private gentlemen, a long cloak, arranged in severe folds, would create a solemn effect.

 

For the humbler classes, a cross with the instruments of their trades or crafts, along with marks and devices, would be sufficient and appropriate. In rural districts, a simple wooden or stone cross with the name of the deceased would suffice.

 

Practical Revival of Consistent and Christian Monuments

There is no practical difficulty in reviving consistent and Christian monuments for all classes today. This can be achieved at the same cost currently spent on pagan abominations, which disfigure both the consecrated enclosure surrounding the church and the interior of the sacred building itself. The Cross is surely the most appropriate emblem on the tombs of those who believe in God crucified for the redemption of man. It is incredible that while the dead are interred in consecrated ground, prayers for their souls' repose acknowledged as of apostolic antiquity, and the interment office composed from the ancient ritual, the types of all modern sepulchral monuments should be essentially pagan. Urns, broken pillars, extinguished lamps, inverted torches, and sarcophagi have been substituted for recumbent effigies, angels, and emblems of mercy and redemption.

 

Civil Architecture

It is not difficult to show that the needs and purposes of civil buildings now are almost identical to those of our English forefathers. Climate, which regulates roof pitch, light, warmth, and internal arrangement, remains unchanged. We are governed by nearly the same laws and political system. The Sovereign, state officers, Houses of Peers and Commons, judges, and forms of trial, the titles and ranks of the nobility, the tenures by which their lands are held, and the privileges they enjoy, corporate bodies, and civic functionaries are all essentially the same as in former days.

 

No country in Europe has preserved so much of its ancient system as England. The grey tower of the parochial church still rises beside the manorial house, and in many instances, the chantry chapel remains, with a long succession of family monuments from the armed crusader to the parent of the current possessor.

 

The Palace of the Sovereign

The palace of the Sovereign should exhibit evidence of dignified antiquity in every detail. The long succession of our kings, their noble achievements, and honourable badges and charges they bore would naturally suggest themselves for decorating the various halls and apartments. A building thus designed and ornamented, where both the general character and every detail express the country's dignity and illustrate its history, would appear truly grand and national. Examples for such an edifice can be found in the ancient glories of St. Stephen's and Windsor, the habitations of our Edwards and Henrys. The dining-hall of the former, even in its current denuded state without tapestry, glass, or enrichment, conveys a far grander impression than the most gorgeously decorated modern chambers. Imagine the splendid effect if one of those ancient palaces, suited for a Christian monarch's residence, were restored with appropriate furniture and decorations!

 

Residences of Nobility and Gentry

The same remarks apply to the residences of the nobility and gentry. It is painful to see a square unsightly mass of bastard Italian architecture in the centre of a fine old English park and vast domain, without any expression of the faith, family, or country of the owner. This contrasts sharply with the spirit of ancient mansions, covered with ancestral badges and memorials, harmonizing in beautiful irregularity with nature.

 

Any modern invention that promotes comfort, cleanliness, or durability should be adopted by a consistent architect. Copying something merely because it is old is as absurd as modern pagans' imitations. Our domestic architecture should reflect our manners and habits: as castles merged into baronial mansions, they can be modified to suit current necessities. Smaller detached houses generated by the present state of society should have a unique character and should not appear as diminutive representations of larger structures.

 

It is possible, and easy, to work on the same consistent principles as our ancestors in erecting all our domestic buildings. With our present resources, it would be absurd to build wooden houses in towns, which originated from the superabundance of that material in the past and the difficulty of transporting stone or brick. However, brick fronts adapted perfectly to internal convenience and legal provisions for town buildings can be erected, producing excellent effects if consistently treated and terminated by the natural form of the gable.

 

Noble cities can be erected combining all possible conveniences of drainage, watercourses, and gas conveyance in the most consistent and yet Christian character. Every building treated naturally, without disguise or concealment, will look well. If our present domestic buildings were designed in accordance with their actual purposes, they would appear as picturesque as the old ones! Each edifice would tell its own tale, and by diversity of character, contribute to the grand effect of the whole.

 

Embracing Mechanical Advancements

In purely mechanical matters, the Christian architect should gladly adopt improvements and increased facilities suggested from time to time. The steam engine is a valuable power for sawing, raising, and cleansing stone, timber, and other materials. The old masons used large wheels for erecting buildings, increasing power over manual strength. They would undoubtedly have used a greater power if they knew one. Why should ten minutes be spent raising a body that could be equally well done in two? The readier and cheaper the mechanical part of building can be made, the greater the effect for the funds. If I were engaged in erecting a vast church, I would set up an engine to saw blocks, turn detached shafts, and raise materials to required heights. By saving and expediting these matters, there would be more funds and more manual labor to spend on enrichments and variety of detail.

 

The Evolution of Pointed Architecture

The whole history of pointed architecture is a series of inventions: there was a time when the most beautiful productions of antiquity were novelties. Mechanical invention only becomes objectionable when it intrudes on the confines of art and subverts the principles it should advance. Techniques like putty pressing, plaster and iron casting for ornaments, and wood burning are not to be rejected because they were unknown to our ancestors, but because they inherently oppose the true principles of art and design. These techniques substitute monotonous repetitions for beautiful variety, flat execution for bold relief, encourage cheap and false magnificence, and reduce the varied principles of ornamental design to mere ready-made manufacture. While we should utterly reject castings as substitutes for ornamental sculpture, we should eagerly avail ourselves of the great improvements in working metals for constructive purposes.

 

Incorporating Modern Materials

Had the old builders possessed our means of obtaining and working iron, they would have used it extensively. The lack of proper ties has caused serious settlements and even the destruction of some of the finest Christian edifices, as the very weight and massiveness of the work often caused it to settle and give way. Nearly every large tower erected during the Middle Ages required subsequent tying together with iron chains and key wedges. If these ties had been built into the structures initially, they would have been protected from atmospheric action and prevented both fissures and the spreading of the work.

 

Structural Considerations in Cruciform Churches

In a cruciform church, these precautions are crucial. The lateral thrust of the nave, transept, and choir arches, both of aisles and triforium, rests against the four great central pillars. These pillars can only resist the pressure due to the weight of the great tower resting on them. However, this was often insufficient, and when the pillars began to give, it hastened their destruction. This led to the addition of inverted arches at Wells and screens at Salisbury and Canterbury, which were added long after the original buildings were constructed to prevent the pillars from giving inwards. At Amiens, the structures are tied by immense chains extending the length of the nave and choir.

 

Had this point been considered in the original structures, the pressure could have been effectively countered by inserting iron shafts in the centre of the great piers and chains from them in the thickness of the triforium and clerestory, reaching to the four extremities of the building. This is just one example among many that show we possess facilities and materials unknown to our ancestors, which would have greatly added to the stability of the structures they erected. We do not want to stop the course of inventions but to confine these inventions to their legitimate uses and prevent their substitution for nobler arts.

 

We highly approve of cast iron for constructive purposes while denouncing it as a meagre substitute for masons' skill. We would gladly employ Roman cement in brick walling while abominating its use in modern mock erections. Branding irons are exceedingly useful for marking owners' and makers' names on carts and implements of trade, but they cannot replace the carver's art.

 

Evaluating Building Methods

In summary, we should neither cling to ancient building methods solely because of antiquity nor reject inventions because of novelty. Instead, we should test both by sound and consistent principles and act accordingly.

 

The Scope for Sculpture in Christian Architecture

A significant mistake of modern times is the assumption that Christian architecture does not provide sufficient scope for the art of sculpture. On the contrary, while a Greek temple allows for decoration only in the pediment and frieze, every part of a Christian church can and should be covered with varied sculpture. This includes vegetable, animal, and human figures in diverse positions and aspects, sometimes single in niches, sometimes in groups of high relief, and in subjects of the most majestic character.

 

At the entrances of the church, the lessening arches forming the vast recesses are lined with angels, patriarchs, prophets, kings, martyrs, bishops, and confessors. Above the doorways, the genealogy of our Divine Redeemer, his birth, passion, and final judgment are depicted subjects that offer the fullest scope for the highest powers of human skill. The entire exterior of the sacred edifice, even to the summit of the towers, may be adorned with images and sculpture. The interior similarly presents an extensive field for the exercise of art in various sizes and positions, from the minute groups on the stall seats to the long line of sacred history surrounding the choir, from the enrichments of the aisle walls at eye level to the sculptured bosses luxuriant in foliage and rich in imagery, key stoning the vaulted roof at immense elevations.

 

Recognising the Value of Christian Sculpture

Flaxman was the first of the modern school to recognize both the excellence of Christian sculpture and the scope it offered for artistic expression in pointed structures. His lectures contain several remarks on the admirable works executed in the English cathedrals, even while art was at a comparatively low ebb in Italy. There is no principal difference between the fine draped works of classic sculptors and those of the Middle Ages; the difference lies in the objects represented and the artists' motives. While the former sought to display the human figure, the latter, adhering to the Christian principle of modesty, preferred to conceal it. Pagans aimed to perpetuate human feelings, while Christians sought to express the divine.

 

Comparing Gothic and Grecian Drapery

The distinction between Gothic and Grecian drapery in sculpture is not one of principle but of the habits of different periods. The art of both eras is a grand expression of nature, with distinct character resulting from the change in Middle Ages' habits. The cope replaces the toga, and the chasuble replaces the tunic. The square folds of Christian images are produced by the materials then in use. Different circumstances and systems generate different artistic expressions. Had Phidias worked under the influence of the Christian faith, he would have exhibited equal skill in abstract art but with a different development.

 

The Pitfall of Modern Sculpture

The great error of modern sculptors is their servile imitation of classic art without attempting to embody existing principles in their works. Art loses its greatest claim to admiration and fails to evoke any feelings of sympathy in the spectator's heart unless it expresses the system it should illustrate.

 

Since the 15th century, saints of the Church have been made to resemble heathen divinities closely. Christian mysteries have been used merely as vehicles for reviving pagan forms and exhibiting the artist's anatomical skill. These were no longer productions to edify the faithful but to advance the artist's fame, sacrificing consistency and propriety.

 

The Principle of Christian Art

We do not want to revive a facsimile of any particular individual's works or style but to revive the devotion, majesty, and repose of Christian art. It is not about a style but a principle. The improvements from studying anatomy and human proportions can be incorporated into ancient excellence. An image in correct costume and treated according to Catholic traditions would provide as much scope for the sculptor's art as a half-naked figure in a distorted attitude, more resembling a maniac who hastily grabbed a blanket for covering than a canonized saint.

 

Faith and Humility in Modern Art

If our modern artists worked with the same faith and humility as the old masters and strove to express the doctrines of the Church rather than their peculiar notions, we might soon have a school of sculpture equal in sentiment and devotion, and superior in anatomical correctness, to that which existed during the ages of faith.

 

Praise for the Modern German School

It is just to acknowledge that the modern German school, led by the great Overbeck, is not only free from this reproach but also deserving of the highest praise and respect for their revival of Christian art and traditions.

 

Conclusion: Revival of Ancient Architecture

The present revival of ancient architecture in this country is based on sound and consistent principles. It is warranted by religion, government, climate, and the needs of society. It is a perfect expression of all we should hold sacred, honourable, and national, connected with the holiest and dearest associations. There is no better country than England for the revival of ancient excellence and solemnity. We have immense power, vast wealth, and great, though often misdirected, zeal. Sounder views and opinions are gaining ground daily, and feelings of reverence for the past are increasing extraordinarily. With all her faults, we must remember that England, while last to abandon Christian architecture, has been foremost in hailing and aiding its revival.

 

Ancient Glory in Times of Adversity

Even in the worst and darkest times of pagan and Protestant ascendancy, some of her sons advocated her ancient glory. Despite repeated mutilations and the sad destruction of monastic churches, our ecclesiastical edifices exhibit far more perfect traces of their ancient beauty than many continental buildings. Although they escaped the hammer of fanatics, they were more fatally injured by the chisels and pencils of revived pagan artists.

 

Judging England's Deeds

We should not judge England's deeds over the last three centuries by those that preceded them, but by the corresponding history of surrounding nations. Throughout the Christian world, the period since the 16th century has been one of bitter trial and degradation for the Church. We see great ecclesiastical works arrested at the same period—towers half-erected, naves unfinished, details uncarved, either a total stoppage of works or bastard pagan productions better left undone. For a while, Catholic art and traditions lay neglected and despised, while paganism ruled triumphantly in palaces, cloisters, and even under the vaulted cathedrals and over the high altars of Christendom.

 

Reflecting on Historical Struggles

When considering these lamentable facts and the fearful scourge of war and revolution that passed over the continent, involving abbey and cathedral, church and convent in common ruin, reducing the dignified clergy of France to stipendiary clerks sharing a pittance with Calvinist ministers and Jewish rabbis, we may be thankful that matters are not worse in our country.

 

Betrayal by Lawful Pastors

The spirit of Dunstan, Anselm, and St. Thomas was extinct before Cranmer's could prevail. We must remember that this country was separated from the Holy See by the consent of the canonically instituted clergy of this realm, with few noble exceptions. The people were betrayed by their lawful pastors. There were no missionaries from the Holy See to dispense sacraments to the faithful. This vital change was affected without external demonstration: Protestant opinions were not broached until years after the schism; the externals of religion remained the same; and even when sacrilege and violence began, they were conducted in some measure by authority.

 

Providential Retention

Regarding the state of religion for the last three centuries as punishment for the English Church's unfaithfulness, we must be grateful that, despite the repeated efforts and successes of the bitterest Puritans, many traces of the ancient paths have been preserved to guide those striving to regain the holy place.

 

There is something providential in retaining ancient titles and dignities, the daily chant of the divine office in cathedrals and colleges, the dedication of churches in honour of the ancient saints, the consecration of burial grounds, the preservation of the chapel and order of England's patron St. George, the Catholic character of many portions of the liturgy with its calendar of fasts and festivals, the solemn service and anointing of the sovereign at coronation. These seem like pledges that God will not be angry with this land forever. No other country that fell into the miserable state of Protestantism has retained so much to awaken reverence for the past and lead its children back to union with the See of Blessed Peter.

 

Reverence for Catholic Antiquity

Dugdale, Spelman, Bingham, Collier, Ashmole, and many illustrious English antiquaries and historians can be cited to prove the great reverence for Catholic antiquity occasionally manifested in this country, even while the Puritan faction proceeded to violence. Dugdale's text and plates are deeply Catholic; every line of his "Monasticon" might have been written in a cloister of ancient Benedictines, while his "History of St. Paul's" exhibits piety and devotion worthy of more ancient days. Spelman, in his works, expresses himself on sacrilegious spoliation in a way that should strike shame and terror into the hearts of Catholics who would spoil the Church they profess to belong to. He paints a fearful but true picture of the dismal disasters that befell the Church's plunderers at the time of the general dissolution.

 

The Astonishing Destruction of Religious Heritage

It is almost inconceivable that men, educated in the principles of the ancient faith, who partook in the sacraments of the Church and knelt at its altars, should demolish edifices of such beauty and skill for the sake of stone, timber, and lead. These structures, which should have commanded their veneration, were reduced to ruins. The atrocities that accompanied the ascendancy of Protestantism in England can only be explained as the perpetrators being blinded to the enormity of their actions by divine punishment.

 

To hear of the choirs of vast churches stripped and left roofless, tombs of prelates and nobles ransacked for lead, brass torn from graves, the consecrated vessels of the sanctuary profaned and melted, the bones of saints and martyrs burnt, the images of our Divine Redeemer trodden underfoot, dragged about and consumed, vestments converted to domestic use, monastic libraries pillaged and burnt—all this without foreign invasion, in once-Catholic England, and by men born and raised in the Catholic Church—seems like a fearful dream, almost incredible.

 

Now, the sad recital of destruction alone moves us more than the record of ancient glory. We lament over the prostrate pillars and scattered fragments of once-noble piles. We raise the fallen cross, uncover the ancient legend on the wall, collect the fragments from shattered panes, and clear the accumulating soil from moulded bases and tombs. The study of Catholic antiquity is so intertwined with ancient piety and holy recollections that the soul is drawn from contemplating material objects to spiritual truths.

 

Faith of the Fathers

An Englishman needs no controversial writings to lead him to the faith of his fathers; it is written on the wall, the window, the pavement, by the highway. Let him look on the tombs of those who occupy the most honourable positions in his country's history—the devout, the noble, the valiant, and the wise—and he will see them with clasped hands invoking the saints of Holy Church, while the legend around the slabs begs passers-by to pray for their souls' repose. At Canterbury, he beholds the pallium, emblem of the jurisdiction conferred by St. Gregory on St. Augustine, first primate of this land. At York, the keys of Peter, with triple crowns, are carved on buttress, parapet, and wall.

 

Scarcely one village church or crumbling ruin does not bear some badge of ancient faith and glory. The crosses on the walls tell of anointings with holy chrism and solemn dedications. The sculptured font speaks of the sacraments and regeneration in the laver of grace. The legend on the bell inspires veneration for these consecrated heralds of the Church. The chalice and host over priestly tombs teach of altar and sacrifice. The iron-clasped ambry, sculptured in the wall, bears record of the holy Eucharist reserved for spiritual nourishment. The stoups in the porch and Galilee of hallowed water signify purification before prayer. Window, niche, spandrel, and tower set forth, by pious effigies, that glorious company of angels, prophets, apostles, martyrs, and confessors, who, glorified in heaven, intercede for the faithful on earth.

 

The Indelible Influence of Catholicism

The Cross, emblem of a Christian's hopes, still surmounts spire and gable. In flaming red, it waves from the masts of our navy, over the towers of the sovereign's palace, and is blazoned on London's shield. The order of St. George, our patron saint, founded by King Edward of famous memory, remains the highest honour conferred by sovereigns on subjects; his chapel is glorious, and his feast is kept solemnly. Our cities, towns, localities, and rocky islands are named after saints whose lives, martyrdoms, or benefactions have made them famous. The seasons of the year are marked by the masses of holy tides.

 

Few noble houses or families lack honourable bearings identical with those blazoned on ancient church windows or chantry tombs, witnesses to the pious deeds and faith of their noble ancestors. Our sovereign is crowned before the shrine of the saintly Edward, exhorted to follow that pious king's footsteps, and anointed with oil poured from the same spoon held by Canterbury's prelates eight centuries ago.

 

The Enduring Legacy

Catholicism is so interwoven with everything sacred, honourable, or glorious in England that three centuries of Puritanism, indifference, and infidelity have not separated it. It clings to this land, developing from time to time like the better feelings of a naturally honourable man betrayed into sin. What! An Englishman and a Protestant! Oh, worse than parricide, to sever the holy ties to the past, to deprive himself of the sweet communion of soul with holy men, now blessed spirits with God, who brought this island from pagan obscurity to Christian light, who covered its once-dreary face with the noblest monuments of piety and skill, who gave lands that yet educate our youth, support the learned, and from whom we received all that remains glorious, even to our political government and privileges.

 

Can a man of soul look on the cross-crowned spire, listen to the chime of distant bells, stand beneath the lofty vault of a cathedral choir, gaze on long and lessening aisles, or kneel by ancient tombs, and yet protest anything but the monstrous and unnatural system that mutilated their beauty and marred their design? Surely not. Such reverence for long-despised excellence has been awakened among our learned and devout countrymen that we may hope indeed our redemption draws nigh.

 

We have already lived to hear the name of Canterbury's blessed martyr pronounced with veneration. A hundred pens, ably wielded, write in defence of ancient piety and practice; a thousand voices rise against the abominations of modern innovation. England is awakening to a sense of her ancient dignity, appreciating the merits of the past, and working eagerly for the future.

 

Hopes for the Future

The past few years must—or ought to have—brought a great change in English Catholics' feelings toward Anglican churchmen. It is evident that if God's will is to restore departed glories, it will be by rebuilding Zion's ruined walls, not demolishing the poor remains left. The tide of popular innovation that recently threatened common destruction seems providentially stayed. God forbid we should scramble for a transept with dissenters; rather, like the true mother in Solomon's judgment, we should give up all to see what we hold dear undivided. By perfecting ourselves and carrying out true Catholic principles in charity, devotion, and zeal, we hasten toward the union we may even begin to look forward to—obtained through the sacrifice of the altar and midnight supplication, not by the clamour of election platforms or popular tumult.