"It was a curious conceit, which I suppose every body once accepted, that the ringing of the church bells cleared the air of all evil and discordant spirits, and caused the storm and the tempest to cease. But the Church had another and a better reason for ordering the bells to be rung at such times; and that was, "that the faithful might be admonished to be urgent in prayer for the instant danger[205]." I like the idea of the Church bell inviting to _private prayer_ as well as public worship, but we have almost lost it. The _pa.s.sing bell_ used to ask the private prayers of the faithful in behalf of the spirit pa.s.sing from earth. This was truly a Christian custom; nevertheless, I see difficulties in the way of its general revival."
"_You_ have not, however, lost sight, my dear friend, of the invitation to _private_ devotion as a.s.sociated with church bells; for it is in this light I regard the ringing of the little sancte bell just before the consecration of the elements at the celebration of Holy Communion. I was very glad when you restored the old bell to its little turret over the chancel arch; and I know that when it is rung, many who cannot come to church bend their knees and join heartily with us in our prayers and adoration."
"Yes, that is a good old practice of the early Church, and I am very glad to know that its revival has been a blessing and a comfort to many by awakening solemn thought and earnest prayer."
Ill.u.s.tration: Window, Church of St. Petronius, Bologna
_CHAPTER x.x.x_
THE HOUSE NOT MADE WITH HANDS
"Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house."
1 Pet. ii. 5.
"One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o"er and o"er,-- I"m nearer home to-day Than I have been before;
"Nearer my Father"s House, Where the many mansions be, Nearer the great white Throne, Nearer the jasper sea;
"Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down, Nearer leaving the Cross, Nearer gaining the Crown."
CAREY
THE HOUSE NOT MADE WITH HANDS
"I must just go up for a minute to see poor Matthew. I hear he is not quite so well," said the Vicar, as he parted from his companion, and entered the little door that led up to the old s.e.xton"s chamber.
"My dear friend," said the Vicar, taking the old man"s trembling hand, "I see you are still very weak; but I trust you are not suffering much?"
"Weak, very, sir; but, thank G.o.d, no pain. I feel, however, that the end can"t be very far off. You must look out for another s.e.xton, sir, for old Matthew"s work is nearly over."
"_His_ will be done," said the Vicar; and the old man breathed a solemn "Amen," which seemed spoken for no earthly ears.
"I"ve been thinking," at length said Matthew, "that it"s ten years since you and I, sir, and Mr. Acres, met at the old lych gate in that terrible storm. I remember I said then that it wouldn"t be long before some younger ones would have to carry me through the gate, but G.o.d has spared me these ten years more, and now I shall need none to bear me through the gate; for here I am--thanks to your kindness, sir--already within the gate, and even within the House of G.o.d itself."
"Yes; and so when G.o.d calls you to Himself, He will but take you from one temple to another--from the courts of His House here, to live for ever in His heavenly mansions. "Those that be planted in the House of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our G.o.d[206].""
"If you please, sir, I should like to be buried beside little Lizzie Daniels. "Tis long ago now since I made that little grave, and I fear the flower-bed is a good deal overgrown with gra.s.s, for I have been too poorly to look after it as I used to; but I think you"ll know it, sir.
She helped in her own quiet, simple way to teach an old man the way to Heaven; and I have never forgotten her lessons. How often she used to talk about this day--Ascension Day! She once said to me, sir, that you had told her we ought to remember this day throughout the year, and to try and lead an _Ascension_ life, and let our thoughts and desires dwell as much as possible where our Saviour has gone before. I have tried to do so--G.o.d forgive me, for I have often failed!"
He then drew the Vicar nearer to him, and whispered in his ear, "Be good to dear little Harry, sir, when I"m gone. He loves me so, I fear "twill break his heart."
The "parson"s bell," as it was called, was now ringing, so the Vicar, having promised that his wishes should be fully carried out, was compelled to hasten into the church. He first laid his hand on the n.o.ble brow of the good old man, and p.r.o.nounced the blessing of Heaven upon him, and then bade him farewell, adding, "I hope, my dear friend, we may be permitted to meet again in this earthly house of G.o.d; but if not, my heart-deep hope and prayer is, that we may meet in His house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens[207]."
The little window that looked into the church from the s.e.xton"s chamber was opened, and none listened more earnestly to the festive service, and to the Vicar"s sermon, on that Ascension Day than did old Matthew Hutchinson.
Although it was a common practice with the Vicar on festivals not to preach from any particular pa.s.sage of Holy Scripture, but simply to make the festival itself the subject of his discourse, yet on this occasion he selected these words as his text: "The patterns of things in the heavens[208]." He showed how that all this world of ours, in which so much that is beautiful and lovely has survived the fall, is full of patterns, or symbols, or types of things in that Heaven to which Christ has ascended; how that the whole Bible abounds with the most vivid symbolism and the most graphic imagery representative of the glories of that Heavenly kingdom; and then, looking round the beautiful church, now so richly adorned with its festive decorations, he explained how the earthly building, in its several parts, possessed a thousand patterns of those heavenly things which make up the spiritual fabric of the Church of Christ. "When we regard the material fabric of the Christian Church,"
he said, "as a type of the spiritual house, ever rising higher and higher in honour of its Divine Founder, of which the saints on earth and the saints in Heaven are the living stones, we are arraying the n.o.blest work of man with its grandest and most exalted dignity. "Ye are built upon the _foundations_ of the Apostles and Prophets," writes St. Paul to the Church of Ephesus, "Jesus Christ Himself being the chief _corner stone_; in whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy _temple_ in the Lord: in whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of G.o.d through the Spirit[209]." Here, in the symbol of the _foundation stones_ of the material structure, we have represented to us, as it were, at one view, all those heavenly graces and blessings which from the day of Pentecost down to this time have flowed to G.o.d"s people through the visible ministry and appointed ordinances of the Christian Church. Then, under the figure of the _corner stone_--the key stone of the edifice--we have gathered up all those old prophecies and types which pointed on forward, through the sufferings and death of the Saviour, up to the time when, having established His Church in the world, He should be Himself the heavenly life of its living members.
Long had it been "contained in the Scriptures: Behold, I lay in Zion a chief _corner stone_, elect, precious; and he that believeth on Him shall not be confounded[210]," and in the fulness of time "the stone which the builders refused became the _head stone of the corner_[211]."
"And next see, my friends, how the figure is carried out by the two Apostles, St. Paul and St. Peter, so as to embrace all the faithful members of Christ"s Church. They are represented by St. Paul as "the whole _building fitly framed together_[212]," and by St. Peter, as the living stones which compose this living temple--"Ye also as _lively stones_ are built up a _spiritual house_[213]." And this figure of a living temple is thus constantly employed by the sacred writers: "Know ye not that your bodies are the _Temple of G.o.d_?" writes St. Paul to the Corinthian Church; and, again, "Ye are the _Temple of the living G.o.d_[214]." St. Jude is following out the same idea when he exhorts Christians to _build up themselves in their most holy faith_."
The Vicar ended his sermon with an earnest, practical application of the subject. "Let me entreat you, my dear friends, often to suffer the solemn thoughts which this sacred symbol suggests to dwell on your minds: "_The temple of the Lord_ is holy, which temple _ye are_." Holy Prophets and Holy Apostles, and confessors, and martyrs, are the foundation of the sacred building; the Holy Jesus is the corner stone, in whom ye--the living stones--must be _fitly framed together_. Mark, my friends, there must be _no schism, no division, no rent or fissure_, that ye may be a spiritual house perfect in all its parts, and pure in all its adornments. Oh, then, cherish that heavenly life within you, which alone can keep the building compact and firm! Be fruitful in good works. Remember faith without works is not living, but _dead_[215]. "Put on charity, which is the _bond of perfectness_[216]," and will be the best evidence to G.o.d and man, and to your own souls, that you possess a living faith; that you are, indeed, _living stones in a living temple_.
Be sure the cement that must unite the living stones of the spiritual house is brotherly love and fervent charity. Without these, the house will be divided against itself; its walls will be "daubed with untempered mortar[217]," and, instead of living stones, there will be but the dead, outlying blocks of a ruined house. "Except the Lord build the house, their labour is but lost that build it[218]."
"Be it yours, then, "by patient continuance in _well doing_, to seek for glory and immortality[219]" in that "house eternal in the heavens, whose Builder and Maker is G.o.d." Learn to see in the whole earth, and air, and sky--with their countless beauties and wondrous harmonies--reflections of the glories of Heaven, and promises of the coming bliss of eternity.
Learn to read lessons of wisdom and religion from the many instructive patterns, and symbols, and emblems in nature, and in art, with which you are ever surrounded. Thus go on, day by day, advancing nearer to your mansion in Heaven. Thus, in these earthly temples of Jehovah, be ever purifying your hearts, and attuning your voices to share in that glorious song of the Lamb when the sweet music of angels" harps shall vibrate on this regenerate earth, when her ten thousand choirs shall join with theirs in joyful harmony--and melt their united praises in one never-ending rapture, singing, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord G.o.d Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come;" "Blessing and honour, and glory and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the Throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever[220].""
In the prayer for the Church militant, which followed the sermon, the Vicar paused longer than usual when he prayed G.o.d to _succour and comfort those who were in sickness_. All knew that he was inviting a special prayer for the old man whom all the village loved; and had they been offered for the proudest potentate, the most learned philosopher, or even the greatest philanthropist that ever lived, the prayers that went up to Heaven amid that solemn silence for him "for whom the prayers of the Church were desired," could not have been more fervid and sincere. When Mr. Ambrose proceeded with the prayer, a slight stir in the porch chamber was heard by those near at hand, but it was little noticed.
At the conclusion of the service Mr. Acres met the Vicar in the vestry.
"I should like," said he, "to go with you to see our poor old friend once more."
"It will probably be the last time," replied the Vicar, "for he was evidently sinking when I saw him before service. I told little Harry to go up to him as soon as we had sung the last hymn."
Both went up together. The Vicar was not mistaken. Calm and peaceful, without a line of care or pain, there lay the placid face, and the eyes were closed in the last, long sleep. One hand lay motionless upon the bed, grasped by his little grandson, who was kneeling beside him, still robed in the snow-white surplice with which he had recently left the choir.
"Poor little fellow!" said the Vicar; "I will keep my promise to the old man. He shall not be left without a friend, though his best is gone."
But Mr. Acres saw that the little hands were white as the aged hand they clasped.
"He"s with a better Friend now, my dear Vicar," said he, "than this earth can give him. We shall hear his sweet voice no more in our choir here; he has gone to join the choir of angels in a n.o.bler temple than ours."
Old Matthew"s words were true; the loving little heart was broken. The old oak had fallen, and crushed the tender sapling as it fell[221]. On the morning of Trinity Sunday, there stood under the old yew-tree of St.
Catherine"s churchyard, three little stone crosses side-by-side, where but one had been before.
THE END
GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS, ST. JOHN"S SQUARE, LONDON.
Footnotes
1: In some parts of Devonshire and Cornwall, Lich-Gates are called "Trim-Trams." The origin of this word is not easy to determine; it is probably only a nickname.