not appear to be what it is in fact. A church is devoted to a peculiar use, and therefore it should have a peculiar aspect. It ought to designate itself to the eye. Even com. mon observers are not satisfied with a building which for aught that appears may be a house of worship or a school house, a temple of religion or a temple of justice, a sanctuary or a town hall. A well constructed steeple-at least something more than the beifry of an academy or a factory-will save the question, ، what kind of a build. ing is that? Another remark akin to this, seems obvious enough, yet is often overlooked: that good taste as well as comfort requires a house of worship, especially the interior, to be suitable to the use for which it is designed. As we have said be. fore, every building should have a character of its own. That of a church should be, not only distinct, but favorable and appropriate to worship. Every part should be in keeping not only with the other parts, but with the use to be made of the whole. Beauty is not entirely independent of convenience here. The worship of God is something to be understood, and therefore it should be heard, and the preacher should be both heard and seen. Hence the huge columns, or rather pillars and groups of pillars, in

some

of the ancient churches abroad, are unsuitable, except in those buildings where there is room 'enough and to spare.' In our churches they would be in the way.' And apart from convenience, the appearance of every thing in such a place ought to be congenial with devotion. Many brick churches present a show of red and white on the outside, which is decidedly more military than ecclesiastical. Within, obviously the outlines and colors should be such as to compose, not to distract or divert attention; chaste rather than striking. Brilliancy and show are foreign to the

scene.

Every thing in the nature of decoration must seem to be subservient to the spirit of the place, or it is a blemish. A subdued light is felt to be favorable to the solemnity of religious services, and painted walls and stained windows add to the effect; as Milton speaks of

-storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.'

Formerly our churches let in all the light that could be had, and the walls were scrupulously whitewashed, as if colors were profane, or could be of no use except to weak eyes. Since attention has

been turned to the subject, there is some danger of running into the opposite extreme of gairish or fantastic tints.f Coloring in churches as well as other parts of design, must be regulated by the standard we have pointed out, and not by the fashions of the day; otherwise it should be abandoned, or made a department of millinery.

Another principle in the architecture of churches, as of other buildings, is the connection between utility and beauty. We would not have the two things confounded, but certainly the one is often closely related to the other. The appearance of convenience or strength, where these qualities are wanted, is one element of beauty. A col

* We remember a costly church where the space about the pulpit was so splendidly carpeted that looking down upon it from the gallery, we could think of it only as a gay parlor or brilliant saloon. Another that we saw in Philadelphia made so much show of bronze and gilt about

the desk, that we could not but ask, what

would Paul say to that?

Some wag said of the new Grace church in New York, that the Pearl street merchants of that congregation, had put patterns of their chintzes into the windows. The stained glass there is more brilliant than we have seen in

been said, we

any other church, but after all that has pointed in the blending and harmony of were agreeably disapthe colors.

umn that seems to support nothing is offensive to good taste; and so is the want of it wherever it seems to be required. To conceal the chimneys of a dwelling-house because the Greek temples had none, is a mistake; for chimneys are known to be needful in a residence, though not in those temples, and therefore the appearance of them is appropriate, and their concealment is an imperfection suggesting the notion of discomfort. Thus too the appearance of weakness, even where there is strength, is unsatisfactory. Slender rods, if made of iron, may support a gallery, but they are less agreeable to the eye than columns that not only are in fact sufficient, but appear to be so. For the same reason it is a fault, as we have before remarked, when the steeple of a church seems to rest on the roof instead of rising as a solid tower from the ground. The roof may possibly be strong enough to bear it, or it may really stand on its own tower or frame of timbers within the front wall, but there is not the appearance of strength-there is no solidity to the eye-and this is itself a defect. Certain modes of building improve to the eye upon acquaintance with them, because they are found to be stronger and more enduring than others. Cruciform churches have an advantage of this kind, besides their association with the Christian symbol; for walls so arranged, though necessarily more expensive because much longer than when enclosing the same space in the form of a square, have a narrower roof to support, and are less in danger of spreading. With, or without this form, if a church is very large, the roof may be in fact divided along its whole length, and its weight of course distributed, by

In

raising the central portion, or the nave, higher than the rest in what is called a 'clere story,' resting on arches and pillars, while the lower lateral partitions or aisles at once strengthen it and support their parts of the incumbent weight. The difficulty of supporting heavy roofs for a great length of time, is a reason for either adopting this last method, or for strengthening them by columns or pillars rising to the ceiling of the interior, taking care that these be not unnecessarily large. And for the same reason the area, especially of our larger edifices, should be oblong rather than square. these instances we refer not only to real solidity as of course desirable in construction, but to the appearance of it as entering into beauty of design. We advert to one more point which ought to be regarded in ecclesiastical architecture: the suitableness of a church to its peculiar position. The style of the building ought to be adapted to its site and circumstances. St. Peter's might have been built where it would only seem to fill a hole, and the Parthenon might stand where every thing around would overshadow it. What is called a fine house' in a city, imitated in the country looks stiff and bare. A rural church may have favorable accompaniments for which wealth can find no substitute in crowded streets. Amidst the

These two methods combined, as they are in many of the noted cathedrals abroad, may be seen on a comparatively small scale in Grace church in New York. Trinity church is the best example in this country, of the latter method alone. A small cruciform church, worth looking at, on the corner of 6th avenue and 20th street, New York, is said to have been copied entirely from an old English parish church. If Puseyism did nothing worse than such things, we would not complain of it.

Any one may observe how the effect of St. Paul's church in Boston is well nigh destroyed by the vicinity of the Masonic Temple, which however was built subsequently.

works of nature, simplicity is felt to be an indispensable beauty in a work of art. Good architecture is itself more pleasing in the country than in towns, and as churches are there the most conspicuous works of art, we have often felt how much effect they might be made to produce, and yet what deficiency and neglect they show. And particularly we have regretted that for some slight consideration of economy, the spire that may be made to every eye attractive and significant, shooting upward gracefully from the foliage of the country, has so generally given place to an unsightly cupola or belfry. A well constructed square tower, crowned with battlements and turrets, has a massive aspect appropriate to a large edifice, especially when surmounting an eminence; but such a belfry as we often see is nothing better than an incumbrance to the roof. And the spire, as a graceful and lively object, is better suited to most rural situations, than the heavier kind of steeples. Our churches. moreover, are generally too small to allow of the majestic effect of such towers as are to be found abroad. The color too of a building should often be determined partly by its situation, which brings it into comparison or contrast with other colors in nature or art. When entirely exposed, the more glaring hues become the more offensive. Most of our churches have been painted white on the exterior, because such was supposed to be the fashion, without even the plea of economy. When they stand in valleys, approached from surrounding hills, white spires rising among trees and defined against the green foliage, are agreeable objects to every eye. On a plain however, or as seen in a city, a dark spire has its outline drawn against the sky more clearly, and hence appears to greater advantage even at a distance. Whenever stone can

be used instead of wood or brick, its own color is to be preferred, though it may not be such as would be selected for artificial imitation, and if the spire must be of wood, (though we would have it left incomplete till it can be afterwards finished with stone,) it should be so colored as to resemble the rest of the building. In certain situations it has a good effect to place the tower or steeple at an angle of the building, after the example of some of the old churches abroad, though | as yet it strikes our people oddly; as when it stands on the corner of a city street, which thus seems to be fully occupied and strengthened, or on the brow of a hill where it looks off boldly from a point more sightly than the main entrance. Amidst mountainous or wild scenery, architecture is required to be bolder and more diversified, than in a tamer champaign region. As far as possible, art must ally itself with nature in building, as well as in laying out grounds, in order to secure the best effect. But so many circumstances may be taken into account in adapting the style of an edifice to its situation, that we can here only turn the attention of our readers to the topic. And indeed this is all we have hoped to do in the examples we have given, of what may be called principles in church building.*

* We append here (for want of a better place) two suggestions which will be found to favor simplicity, and also economy, at least of room. In any except the largest churches, there is no need of any other vestibule or inner porch, than the

interior of the tower, into which the

chief door opens. The two side-doors should lead directly into the audienceroom, (the staircases being also within,) and these being necessarily thrown open when the congregation disperse, will ensure some ventilation of the house, while in winter only the middle door need be opened for the gathering of the assembly. The effect to the eye will be the better, if the tower just joins the building instead of standing half within it. The other suggestion relates to the length of pews,

But it may naturally be asked, 'What should a congregation do then, amidst all the diversities of private judgment, the points to be considered, and the errors to be shunned? Who but a professional artist is sufficient for these things?' A proper question certainly; and in answering it for themselves, judicious people will generally go to an architect-just where we would have them go. And by an architect we mean of course, not a mere builder, nor every ingenious mechanic who being a good draughtsman makes a business of furnishing designs; but one who, with good sense and professional enthusiasm, loves and pursues architecture not only as his means of subsistence, but as an art, acquainting himself with its models and principles, and aiming to improve rather than to follow the 'fashions of the day.' Such men are not to be found every where, but they are increasing in number and merit with the general growth of our country. Like other real artists, they must be paid for their ser

whether in a large or small edifice. They should be made to hold four adults, instead of six or seven as now; so as to give a small family a separate pew if they choose it, instead of obliging them to club together or be under tenants in a long pew, while a large or wealthy family, by taking two in a line opening into two aisles, could be also better accommodated than now. Thus a house 52 feet in breadth, having six ranges of pews, each 6 feet long, and three aisles occupying the other 13 feet, will be found more convenient than if the same breadth is divided into four ranges of pews, each 104 feet long, and two aisles. So wider churches may have eight ranges of short pews, instead of six ranges of longer ones as now, preserving the center aisle, and having half aisles along the walls.

Be

sides better accommodating families, such an arrangement would be more convenient for occasional purposes, as the house would be more fully occupied by a large assembly, and could be sooner emptied. By a little care, the aisles too may be made as available for seating a crowded audience as any part of the house. Will not some building committees consider the matter?

vices; but congregations will find it even cheaper in the end, as well as better, to employ a man of this stamp, than to pay less to an inferior builder or an amateur, because their designs will bear the test of time without requiring costly changes. But as it avails little to em. ploy a physician and then follow one's own judgment instead of his prescriptions, so it is a common difficulty in church building that committee men take liberties with the architect and modify his design according to their several partialities and whims, till it ceases to be his, and indeed has no unity of purpose or effect. For example, he gives them a front elevation after one of the Grecian orders, and then for the sake of getting a bad lecture-room beneath, they mount it upon a basement story which has no affinity for any order. They would lower the steeple, and therefore they shorten the spire instead of reducing the whole. One would have more columns of smaller size, another would put them further apart.* The roof must be made steep enough to spoil the pediment, or the portico must be enclosed at the ends, or instead of one large door there must be three small ones, or the whole house must be as broad as it is long. Whatever be the style adopted, the best design is thus liable to be marred in numberless ways, and every architect will probably reckon such interferences among the most vexatious trials of his calling. Let his em

Somebody, more curious than critical, once complained that the columns of the State House in New Haven diminished in size toward the top. A wag answered him, properly enough according to the scriptural rule for answering some people, that the intervals might be made equal by inverting every other column. We have heard of a case in which an architect of great merit designed a shingled wooden spire (on a stone church) to be left unpainted till the weather should turn it brown, but one of the committee dipped the shingles in oil to preserve them, and so preserved the hue of pine just planed,

ployers take it for granted that his judgment in matters of this kind is better than their own. 'Every man to his business.' His eye is on the whole subject, their eyes on a part of it; and as long as they hold the purse, let them leave the pencil to him.

Another caution we believe to be needful not only for the people at large, but sometimes for architects who deservedly stand high in their profession. For ourselves we would maintain a certain catholic liberality of sentiment on this subject, as in every other department of art, in opposition to that idolatrous or bigoted adherence to one of all the approved standards, which excludes just appreciation and genial sympa thy for any other. Among the several styles of architecture which have stood the test of time and survived the caprices of fashion, and of which we have examples in worldrenowned churches, individual minds will of necessity have their own preferences, and architects themselves can not be expected to agree in the enthusiastic admiration of one, nor to regard all with impartial complacency. What we call the public mind is never equipoised, and does not always remain the same, or expend its enthusiasm in the same direction it leans this way or that, and shows now one inclination, then another. This preference predominating for a time, perhaps for centuries, yet destined to change, differs from the popular idea of fashion, though sometimes confounded with it; as being more comprehensive and enduring, or having a larger sweep, and obeying higher laws. It is the taste or the prevailing tendency, not of one province or one season, but of a nation or of an age, of ancient Greece or Rome, of Northern or Southern Europe, of the middle ages or of later centu ries. Upon what is called the revival of learning in Europe, after the mixed Roman models had long

prevailed in the more southern countries, and the most eminent examples of Norman and Gothic architecture had already grown venerable in England and Germany, the public taste in England as well as elsewhere turned strongly toward the purer Greek forms, which in turn became objects of too exclusive admiration. More or less modified they entered into the ideal of artists and amateurs, to the undue disparagement of all later models. The Gothic style began to be reckoned fantastic and well nigh barbarous, like the superstitions of the ages that produced its most wonderful examples, in comparison with the Greek orders and their Roman derivatives. Sir Christopher Wren may be regarded as an example of this tendency. Within the present century, a change in this respect has been going on in Great Britain and in this country. In architecture, as in poetry, the classic and romantic tendencies seem to have been in competition, the one or the other prevailing in both arts at nearly the same periods; and of late the latter seems to have been regaining in turn its old ascendency. Pointed arches and clustered pillars now attract the enthusiasm of church builders, more than nicely adjusted columns and entablatures. And human nature still carries its partialities into extremes, for in some parts of this country we see barns and sheds made to look like Gothic chapels or monastic enclosures, as formerly in England they aspired to resemble Greek temples. Now the caution we believe to be needful is against exclusiveness in this or in any other direction, and in behalf of that more liberal habit which recognizes beauty under all its variety of forms and expressions. Judging from the notices and comments in some of the popular journals and in fashionable conversation, and from the zeal with which one congrega. tion emulates another in copying the