Rites.—Importance of them above Ritual—Serious departure of the
English Church from primitive practice—Abeyance of Weekly Celebration—Proofs
that Weekly Communion is part of the Divine
Ordinance—Practical advantages of restoring it—Origin and history
of the present unsound practice—Vigorous protest of the English
Church against it—Difficulties in the way of a reformation, how to be
met—Recent Eucharistic excesses—Worship addressed to Christ as
enshrined in the Elements—Proof that this was not the primitive
doctrine or practice—Recent origin of it among ourselves—Non-communicating
attendance unknown to antiquity.
Ritual.—Law of the English Church about it, how ascertainable—Vestments—An
alternative recognised—The Vestment Rubric preserved—The
Surplice permitted—Ritual advance at the present day—Choral
Festivals—Church Decoration—History and rationale of the Eucharistic
Vestments, and of the ordinary ones—Position of the Celebrant—Two
lights on the Altar—Incense—The "Mixed Chalice"—The
Crucifix—Minute ceremonial disallowed by the English Church—Suggestions
as to the present controversy—Hopeful circumstances, and
grounds of union.
| 1.—Appendix A. Opinions of the Bishop of Exeter on certain points of Doctrine | Page 101 |
| 2.—Appendix B. Former judgment of the Bishop of Exeter on Vestments | 103 |
| 3.—Appendix C. On Saying and Singing, by the Rev. J. B. Dykes. | 105 |
RITES AND RITUAL,
ETC.
The position of affairs in the English Church, at the
present moment, is such as may well call forth from
her children such counsel as their affection may
prompt, or their experience justify. And, whatever
be the intrinsic value, if any, of the suggestions
about to be offered here, the writer can at least
testify that, though called forth by a particular conjuncture
of circumstances, they are not the hasty or
immature thoughts of the moment, but rather an
outpouring of the anxious musing of years over
the condition and prospects of a beloved and honoured
Mother.
It will be conjectured, from what has now been
said, that the writer is not among the number of
those who perceive, in the present condition of the
English Church, or in her rate of improvement of
late years, any grounds for satisfaction, much less for
complacency or congratulation. On the contrary,
he very humbly conceives—and his reasons for that
opinion shall be given presently—that to the spiritual
eye, used to rest either on what the Church of God
was intended to be, or on what once, for a few centuries,
she was, there is, in the practical condition of the
English Church one defect of so radical a character,
and which has eaten so extensively into her entire
system, that until this is, at least in a very great
measure, remedied, all else is little better than a palliative,
and little else than an illusion. There is surely
something deeply saddening in the spectacle (if it
indeed be so) of a Church busying herself with
"many things"—making much show of practical
activity, of self-reparation, of improvement in services
and ministries, of extension abroad,—when all
the while the "one thing," namely, soundness and perfectness
in Apostolic faith and practice, is in any serious
degree wanting to her. If, while she is manifesting
a feverish anxiety about the more or less of Ritual,
there is in her Rites (of which Ritual is but the
outward clothing) that which demands repair and
readjustment on an extensive scale; then it is surely
needful to press upon her, in the first instance, the
redress of such essentials, before proceeding to speak
of the accessories.
And this is what the present writer, with all
humility, undertakes to make good. He is indeed
far from denying that, "by the good Hand of our
God upon us," great things, of a certain kind, have
been accomplished in our day.
"Stately thy walls, and holy are the prayers
That day and night before thine altar rise."
Our churches have grown to be, to a great extent,
the perfection of earthly sanctuaries. Our Services
are nobler and heartier. Our church music is more
worthy of the name. Better still than this, and
more to the present purpose, our communicants have
increased in numbers, our Communions in frequency.
Our clergy, as a rule, are devoted, beyond the example
of former times, to their duty, according to their
conception of it. Schools are diligently cared for,
and are fairly efficient; foreign missions grow; the
home circle of charities is daily widened and rendered
more effectual. And this is "progress," or
"improvement," undoubtedly. And, were the Church
a mere Machine, or a mere System, it would be perfectly
reasonable to point with satisfaction to such
progress or improvement. But the Church is neither
the one nor the other. She is a Divine Body. And
what if, while some operations of that Body are being
performed with a certain increase of vigour, her very
constitution, as divinely organised by God Himself,
is being suffered to fall into habitual and chronic
unsoundness?
Surely, as it is the first duty of man to do right,
and only his second to do good;—as health is the
highest of bodily blessings, so that activity, apart
from it, is but spurious and imperfect;—so is it the
Church's first duty to be sound,—primum valere,—and
only her second to be, if God enables her, active
and prosperous.
And the Church being, as I have said, a Divine
Body—the Body of Christ—it is plain that the first
condition of her soundness is full as well as vital
union with Christ through the appointed medium,
the Sacraments. Upon these are absolutely suspended
her existence in the first instance, and her preservation
and growth afterwards. What then, I would
ask, can possibly be of more importance than that
these sacred and wonderful ministries should be performed,
in all respects, according to the Ordinance of
Christ, such as he delivered it to the apostles?
And if it be asked, How are we to know what it
was that Christ delivered to the apostles on this
subject, seeing that Holy Scripture is confessedly
brief and unsystematic in its teaching respecting it?
the answer manifestly is, By looking at the universal
practice of the Church in the time of the apostles,
and during the earliest ages after them. We know,
with sufficient accuracy, what that practice was.
Their customs as to the administration of Baptism
are known to us; their Liturgies or Communion Offices
are in our hands. And, though diversities of practice,
outside of certain limits, are found existing in those
ages, within certain limits there is none.
Now, among the points thus defined for us by universal
early usage, is the ordained frequency of celebration
of both Sacraments. The law of Holy Baptism,
viz. that it should be administered once only, was universally
received. This is confessed on all hands.
And when we come to the Holy Eucharist, here,
too, the degree of frequency, as a law and as a minimum,
of celebration, is defined for us no less certainly.
That this was, by universal consent and practice,
weekly,—namely, on every Lord's Day or Sunday—cannot
be gainsaid. That it was on occasion administered
more frequently still; that in some
churches it became, we will not define how early,
even daily; that, according to some, the apostles, at
the very first, used it daily,—is beside the present
question. The point before us is, that there was no
Church throughout the world which failed, for the
first three or four hundred years, to have everywhere
a weekly celebration on the Sunday, and to expect the
attendance of all Christians at that ordinance. Of
this, I say, there is no doubt. The custom of apostolic
days is perfectly clear from Acts xx. 7, and
other passages. The testimony of Pliny, at the
beginning of the second century, is that the first
Christians met "on a stated day" for the Eucharist;
while Justin Martyr (an. 150) makes it certain that
that day was Sunday. And the testimony of various
subsequent writers proves that the practice continued
unbroken for three centuries. The Council of Elvira,[1]
A.D. 305, first inflicted the penalty of suspension from
church privileges on all who failed to be present for
three successive Sundays; and we know from our
own Archbishop Theodore of Tarsus, A.D. 668, that in
the East that rule was still adhered to, though in the
West the penalty had ceased to be inflicted.
Now the ground which I venture to take up, as
absolutely irrefragable, is that it must needs be of
most dangerous consequence to depart from the
apostolic and primitive eucharistic practice, in any
of those things which were ancient and universal,
and, as such, we cannot doubt, ordained
features of the Ordinance. Thus, we rightly view
with the utmost repugnance, and even sickness of
heart, the practice of the Western Church in later
ages in respect of the Elements; viz. her refusing to
the laity, and to all but the Celebrant himself, one
half of the Holy Eucharist. We pity or marvel at
the flimsy pretences by which the fearful and cruel
decree, originating in the bestowal of exclusive privileges
upon the higher clergy,[2] is attempted to be
justified, and its effects to be explained away. The
Western Church, we feel, must answer for that to
God as she can. But what right have we, I would
ask, to choose, among the essentials of the mysterious
Ordinance, one which, as we conceive, we may
dispense with, while we condemn others who select
for themselves another? And yet, what do we? what
is our practice? the practice so universally adopted
throughout our Church, that the exceptions are few,
and but of yesterday; so that those who contend for
and practise the contrary are deemed visionary and
righteous over much? Alas! our practice may be
stated in few and fatally condemnatory words. The
number of clergy in England may be roundly stated
at 20,000. Now, it was lately affirmed in a Church
Review of high standing, that the number who
celebrate the Holy Communion weekly in England
is 200: that is to say, if this estimate be correct,
that one in a hundred of our clergy conforms to the
apostolic and ecclesiastical law of the first centuries.
This statement, it is true, proves to be somewhat
of an exaggeration. But to what extent? The real
number of churches where there is Holy Communion
every Sunday is, by recent returns, about 430.[3] The
number of churches in England is at least 12,000.
That is to say, that there are in England at this
moment more than eleven thousand parishes which,
judged by the rule of the apostles, are false to their
Lord's dying command in a particular from which
He left no dispensation. It will be said, the Holy
Eucharist is celebrated in these parishes from time to
time, only less frequently than of old. But who has told
us that we may safely celebrate it less frequently?
How can we possibly know but that such infrequency
is direfully injurious? Take the analogy of the
human body, which ever serves to illustrate so well
the nature of the Church's life. Take pulsation, take
respiration, or even food. Is not the frequency of
every one of these mysterious conditions of life as
certainly fixed, as their necessity to life at all? Let
pulsation or respiration be suspended for a few
minutes, or food for a few days, and what follows
but death, or trance at the best? And what know
we, I ask, of the appointed intervals for the awful
systole and diastole of the Church's heart—of the
appointed times of her inbreathing and expiration of
the afflatus of the Divine Spirit—of the laws regulating
the frequency of her mysterious nourishment?
What know we, I say, of these things, but what we
learn from the wondrous Twelve, who taught us all
we know of the kingdom of God?
What may be the exact injury of such intermittent
celebration of the Divine Mysteries—of such scanty
and self-chosen measures of obedience to the commands
of Christ,—I pretend not by these analogies
to decide. But surely it may well be that continuous
and unbroken weekly Eucharist is as a ring of
magic power, if I may use the comparison, binding
in and rendering safe the Church's mysterious life;
and that any rupture in that continuity is exceedingly
dangerous to her.
Or if it be contended, as not unnaturally it may,
that this particular circumstance of frequency, and of
weekly recurrence may, notwithstanding the apostolic
testimony to its importance, be subject to variation,
then I would desire to put the matter from another
point of view. One way of judging of the degree
of importance to be attached by us to any given
religious element or feature, is to observe what degree
of divine care Almighty God has bestowed in inculcating
it upon the world. Thus, the Unity of God,
and again the necessity of sacrifice to atone for sin,
or procure admission to His favour, were attested
throughout the whole pre-evangelic history by
special training, imparted, in the one instance, to the
Jews, in the other to all mankind.
But each of these instances of training is even
surpassed by that which God was pleased to impart
respecting the mysterious Ordinance of the WEEK.
Creation, Redemption, Sanctification—the three great
phenomena of man's religious history—were all
visibly based upon the Week. About the Creation,
and its septenary commemoration as a religious ordinance,
there is no real doubt whatever. In the
Jewish system the sabbath, or week, is the basis
upon which the whole structure rests.[4] And when
the awful mystery of Redemption itself was to be
consummated, it was once more within the limits of
a single week that the mighty drama was wrought
out. From the early morning of Palm Sunday,
when our Lord entered Jerusalem as the Lamb of
God, Incarnate in order that He might suffer, to the
early morning of Easter Day, when He rose from
the dead, a measured week, rich in divine incident,
ran out. Seven weeks, or a week of weeks, again
elapses, and the Spirit is sent down from on high for
the completion of the Church. All this indicates
some deep mystery of blessedness as attaching to the
seven-days period in the matter of man's relations
to God. It cannot be alleged, indeed, as an absolute
proof that the celebration of the Eucharist was also
meant to be of weekly recurrence, or that such recurrence
would be the proper and indefeasible law of
its rightful administration. But it surely renders that
conclusion highly probable. For what purpose else,
we may ask, was all this training given? Why was
the Jewish nation, who were to be the first to receive
the Gospel ordinances, and to transmit them to mankind,
carefully habituated to a seventh-day rendering
up of themselves to God? As regards the general
principle involved, it was doubtless because it is good
that man should keep with God these "short reckonings,"
which "make long" and eternal "friends."
But besides this, it was, as the ancient Jewish
services testify,[5] that they might keep in remembrance
two very wonderful weeks of divine operation
on their behalf, the week of Creation, and the week
of their own deliverance out of Egypt. What more
likely than that a seventh-day observance was to be
perpetuated still, only with reference to that antitypical
Redemption, which itself also was ordained to
take place, as if for this very purpose, within the
compass of a week?
In this point of view, the Christian Eucharist is
the gathering up of the memories of that wonderful
week, called of old the "Great Week," the "Week of
Weeks." That such was its purpose might be
gathered even from the accustomed Day, no doubt
appointed by Christ Himself, for its celebration. This
is not, as might perhaps have been expected, the
Thursday, the day of the Institution; not a day in
the middle of the week, but at the close of one week
and the beginning of another: that so it may look
back on the marvels of the Great Week, ever renewed
in memory, and with deepest thankfulness commemorate
them. The original time of celebration in
apostolic days was at first, as it should seem, on the
evening of the old Sabbath; that is, according to
the then reckoning, on the overnight commencement,
or eve, of the Sunday, on which the whole
mystery was consummated by the Resurrection. In
the account of the celebration at Troas, we find it
to have been, from particular causes, already past
midnight when the celebration took place. By the
time of Pliny, in the first century, it had passed on
to the morning hour of Sunday, where it has continued
ever since. Surely it is manifest that, in
the Divine Intention, the Church ought to pass
week by week, in solemn memory and mysterious
sympathy, through the great series of redeeming
events, and crown her contemplation of them by the
great act of Oblation and Reception, which Christ
himself ordained for high memorial of these events,
and to convey the graces and powers flowing out of
them. This is indeed to keep up a "continual remembrance
of the Sacrifice of the death of Christ, and of
the benefits which we receive thereby." A weekly
Eucharist is really a continual Eucharist, because it
makes our whole life to be nothing else than a living
over again and again, with perpetual application to
our own practice, of those events and memories which
are the staple of the Ordinance. In this respect the
Sunday celebration of the Eucharist, viewed as
crowning the week, possesses a fitness, because a
close following in the steps of Christ, in his Incarnation
and Passion, his Death and Burial and Resurrection,
which no other day can lay claim to. This
fitness, of course, reaches its height on Easter-Day, but
is also realized in a very high degree on our
"Easter Day in every week."
Nor are there wanting more positive and distinct
intimations of the Will of God in this matter, over
and above the general presumptions which have been
adduced hitherto.
It is always a somewhat delicate task to gather from
the provisions of the Old Law sure and certain conclusions
as to the destined ones of the New; because
some of the former were, as the event proved, to be
entirely abrogated, or however absorbed, while others
were to abide to the end, only with new powers.
Thus, the multitude of slain sacrifices was to disappear,
being absorbed and done away in the One
Slain Sacrifice. But the bread and wine of the
Elder Economy were to survive, with added powers,
in the New. We cannot, therefore, assume with
certainty that the seventh-day recurrence of any
feast of the Old Law, however close its resemblance
to the Eucharist in other respects, enforces
of necessity a like seventh-day recurrence of
the Christian Ordinance. But thus much may be
observed, as a law pervading the transference of the
old ways of service to the new system, that there was
to be no going back, or falling short, in this point of
frequency, but an equality at the lowest, and even
some advance in that respect. Thus, the great Continual
Sacrifice of the Tabernacle and Temple, consisting
in the renewal, morning and evening, of a
lamb as a burnt offering, has passed on into the really
continual, and not merely renewed, Offering and Presentation
in Heaven of the true Lamb once for all slain.
The eucharistic or peace-offerings, again, personal
or congregational, which bear so close an analogy to
the Holy Eucharist, were only offered and partaken
of, as an absolute rule, three times in the year, though
they might be, and were, offered and eaten more
frequently. So that the frequency of the Christian
Eucharist, once a week as a minimum, was a clear
advance upon this.—But there was another Ordinance
very closely resembling the Eucharist. This was
the Shewbread. The materials of it were bread and
wine; it was offered and eaten as a memorial of the
one continual sacrifice, and as a means of presenting
before God the Church of that day, the twelve tribes
of Israel. The analogy, therefore, is perfect; especially
in that no part of the offering was consumed
by fire, but the whole of that which was offered was
also eaten, exactly as in the Eucharist. That this
particular Ordinance was to survive, accordingly, with
the least possible amount of transformation, in the
Gospel economy, was foretold, apparently, by Malachi.
For to this we may most safely refer his prediction,
that "in every place incense should be offered,
and a pure offering;" the terms "pure offering,"
and "incense," being especially applied to this rite;
and the subject treated of being the negligence
of the priests, to whom this ordinance was confined.
How often, then, was this offering presented and
partaken of? weekly—neither more nor less;
namely, on the Sabbath morning; it having been
placed on the Table of Shewbread the Sabbath before,
and being now consecrated, or offered, by burning,
upon the altar of incense, the frankincense which had
been placed on the top of the loaves for that purpose.
This "Weekly Celebration and Communion," then,
as it may rightly be called, certifies to us, on the
principle above laid down, that the Christian Eucharist,
its very counterpart or continuation, was to be
weekly as a minimum. The same analogy would
suggest, what we know to have been the case from
very early times, that the Christian rite was not, like
the Jewish, to be limited to a weekly performance.
In this respect, as well as in the extension of the
rite to all Christians, now become "Priests unto God,"
the antitype was to rise, on occasion at least, above
the type; even to the degree, at high seasons, or
under special circumstances, of a daily celebration.
And the fact that the bread and wine offered on each
Sabbath had already lain there a week, gives much
countenance to the view advocated above, that the
Christian rite is, on the Lord's Day, retrospective,
inclusive of the memories of the preceding week.
For the idea manifestly was that, in the twelve loaves,
the twelve tribes lay in a mystery all the week long,
with all their actions, before the Divine Majesty.
But we may, with much probability, go one step
further, and say that Our Lord himself, in the very
words of the Institution, gave no obscure intimation
that the law of recurrence of the Ordinance was to be
that which is here contended for. Among those
words there is one, though but one, which bears
upon the question of frequency. It is, "Do this, as
oft as ye drink, for My memorial" (ὃσακις αν πινητε]).
What is the allusion here? Had the Jews any
custom at that time of "drinking" wine in solemn
religious "memorial" of national mercies; for which
this greater "Memorial," of world-wide meaning, was
henceforth to be substituted? and if so, how often did
that rite recur, and what law would thus be suggested
or prescribed for the New "Memorial"?
Now, that they had such a rite[6] at that time, is
rendered infinitely probable by the fact that they
have such a one at this day; and of such a structure,
and involving such reference to the ancient system of
sacrifice, as though actually going on, that it is inconceivable
but that it must have existed before the
destruction of the temple, and abolition of the law.
It consisted of offering and consecrating, at the
Synagogue Service, on the eve of every Sabbath, a cup
of wine, which was then drunk of, first by the
consecrator, and then by the orphan children there
present:—a touching rite, signifying (as appears by
the prayers accompanying it) the fatherless condition
of the nation when in Egypt, and God's
mercy in bringing them out of it, to drink of the
fruit of the vine in their own land. There were also
prayers for the acceptance of the great continual
sacrifice of the nation, then lying on the altar in the
temple; for peace; for grace to keep the commandments.
In all respects, therefore, this rite bore a very
close resemblance, in its own sphere, to that which
our Lord was instituting: He, too, having offered
a cup of wine, presenting thereby the Sacrifice of
His Blood, and enjoined that it should be then and
ever after drunk of in thankful memorial and all-powerful
pleading of that sacrificial deliverance.
And there was yet another Sabbath-eve rite, nearly
akin to this one, only that it was a domestic rite, and
performed at supper, and with bread as well as wine;
features which, of course, assimilated this latter
form of the rite still more closely to what our Lord
was doing.
Let it be supposed then,—and it seems to be
incontestable, if the existence of the rites at that
time may be safely assumed,—that to these rites our
Lord alluded, both generally in the whole Institution
(though of course he referred to many other and
greater rites too), and specially in the words—"As
oft as ye drink." We then have from Himself a
plain intimation as to the degree of frequency of
Celebration. Such an intimation would, apart from
subsequent instructions during the Forty Days,
account for the "First day of the week" being mentioned
for celebration, as if a fixed habit, in the Acts
of the Apostles.
These things considered then;—the deep mystery
for good attaching, from the very Creation downwards,
to the seventh-day recurrence of religious ordinances;
the special fitness of such a law of recurrence in the
case of the Holy Eucharist, because it is the summing
up of a Divine Week's Work of Redemption and
Salvation; the sharply defined presignification, by
means of the Law and the Prophets, the shewbread
and Malachi, of a seventh-day rite of universal obligation,
and blessedness yet to come; lastly, and chief
of all, the brief but pregnant command of Our Lord
Himself, gathered with the utmost probability from
the very words of the Institution; and all this, not
left to our inference, but actually countersigned
by the unvarying practice of the Church throughout
the world for three hundred years:—all this considered,
I conceive that we have very strong grounds
indeed for affirming the proper obligation of this law
of recurrence, and for earnestly desiring that it might
please the Great Head of the Church to put it into
the mind of this branch of it to return, with all
her heart, to the discharge of this most bounden
duty.
I have preferred, in what has been said, to place
this duty on the lofty ground of zeal for the integrity
of the great Mystery of our religion, and of reverence
for the commands of Christ, and the practice
of His Apostles, rather than on the lower ones of
expediency and advantage. And in this light I
would earnestly desire that it may be primarily
regarded. The only question for any branch of
God's Church ought to be, What is commanded?
What did God Almighty intend, and types foreshadow,
and Christ enjoin, and the Apostles practise?
Whatever that was, it must be right for us to aim at,
and to strive for it with all our hearts.
Yet I would not have it supposed but that there
is every reason to hope for the largest measures of
blessing, and of spiritual results, from a return to
this practice. I will mention one very great scandal,
the very canker and weakness of our whole parochial
system, which has a fair likelihood of being removed
by this means. Next to the infrequency of our
Communions, the fewness of our communicants,—that
is, in fact, of our bonâ fide members of the Church,—is
our greatest and most inveterate evil. When this
fewness is allowed its due significance, we must see
and confess that the nominally Christian condition of
this country is but an illusion and an untruth after
all. Judged by our own Church's rule (which is
the rule of Christ Himself), our communicants, and
they only, are our people. The rest may call themselves
what they will; or we may for euphony call
them "our flocks," or God's people. But one thing
is certain, that in those apostolic or early days to
which we ever appeal, and rightly, as our standard,
they would have been held to be reprobates, and no
faithful members of Christ's body at all. Such
then is our condition:—a miserable handful, even
among those who are nominally members of the
Church, having any claim to the title in reality.
Now, how are these wanderers to be brought back?
these abortive or moribund Christians to be induced
to accept the gift of life, through the indispensable
Sacrament? Surely, for the most part, even in the
same way as converts are brought in, one by one,
in heathen lands. Public ministrations, sermons,
services, will not do it. It is a personal effort, a
personal rendering up of self, that is needed; and
it is only by seizing and pressing, in private intercourse,
the chance occasions of speech, the day of
sorrow, or of conviction of sin, that we can induce
men to make this effort. But, unhappily, when
they are prepared to make it, in the vast majority
of our parishes, the "Communion Sunday" is too
often a far-off event: and before it arrives the
favourable impression and disposition has passed
away. While, on the other hand, the ever-ready
rite secures the communicant. In saying this, I am
not merely theorizing, but describing what I have
found to take place within my own experience.
It has been found that in this way nearly one-third
of the entire population of a parish may be brought
in a few years to Holy Communion. Surely some
may be induced to try the effect, were it with this
view only, of the restoration of Weekly Celebration.
I am well aware, indeed, of the difficulties
which, in many cases, stand in the way of such a
restoration, and on these I would venture to say
a few words.
In the first place, then, the state of things which
prevails among us, and of which I have above
ventured to speak in such strong language of deprecation,
is one which we of this generation have
not made, but inherited. It is not we, God be
thanked, that have diminished, but rather, in almost
all cases, increased, the frequency of our celebrations.
The guilt of this evil custom is shared by the whole
Church of fifteen hundred years past; and therefore
we must not be surprised if very great difficulties
are found in correcting it. The history of the desuetude,
which we behold and deplore, is simply this.
For nearly three centuries, scarcely any breach was
made in the Church's Eucharistic practice. Not
only was there universal weekly celebration, but
universal weekly reception also; with only such
abatement, doubtless, as either discipline or unavoidable
hindrance entailed. But the ninth of the
so-called Apostolic canons, belonging probably to
the third century, speaks of some "who came in
to hear the Scriptures, but did not remain for the
prayer (i.e. the Communion service) and holy reception."
All such were to be suspended from
Communion, as "bringing disorder into the Church,"
i.e. apparently (with reference to 2 Thess. iii. 6), as
"walking disorderly, and not after the tradition
received from the Apostles." By about A.D. 305,
the Council of Elvira, as cited above, orders suspension
after absence from the Church three successive
Sundays: a curious indication of "monthly Communions"
having been an early, as it continues to
this day a favourite, form of declension from primitive
practice. But by St. Chrysostom's time (c. 400) so
rapidly had the evil increased, that he speaks of some
who received but twice a year; and even of there
being on occasion none at all to communicate. But
this seems to have been but local, since we find the
Council of Antioch, A.D. 341, reiterating the Apostolic
canon: and even three centuries later, the old rule of
suspension for three absences was still in force in the
East; as Theodore of Tarsus, Archbishop of Canterbury
in 668, testifies of the Greek Church, from
which he came. But even in the East the decline
was rapid. The Apostolical usage, confirmed by
the ninth canon, was admitted to be binding;
but obedience to it was given up as hopeless. Nay,
even the laxer rule of Elvira was stretched by
Canonists,[7] so as to recognise attendance without
reception as sufficient. In the West the habit was
all along laxer still than in the East. At Rome, as
Theodore tells us, no penalty was inflicted for failing
to communicate for three Sundays; but the more
devout still received every Sunday and Saint's-day
in the time of St. Bede; whereas in England, as St.
Bede tells us, even the more religious laity did not
presume to communicate—so utterly had the Apostolic
idea of Communion perished—except at Christmas,
Epiphany, and Easter. Some attempt was made in
Spain and France[8] in the sixth century to revive the
pure Apostolic rule. But meanwhile the Council of
Agde, held in 506, discloses the actual state of things
by prescribing, as the condition of Church membership,
three receptions in the year—at Christmas, Easter,
and Pentecost.[9] The recognition of this miserable
pittance of grace, as sufficient for membership in
Christ, was rapidly propagated through East and
West; and remains, unhappily, as the litera scripta
of two out of the three great branches of the Church—the
Eastern and the English—to this day. In
the Roman Church, ever since the Fourth Lateran
Council in 1214, but one reception a year is enjoined
under penalty; viz. at Easter. The English Church,
however, never accepted the Lateran decree; but
by Canons of Salisbury (about 1270), and of
Lambeth (1378), re-affirmed the thrice-a-year rule.
By the time of the Reformation, however, as is
evident from the rubric attached to the Communion
Office in Edward VI.'s First Book, reception
once a year had become the recognised minimum in
this country also. Meanwhile the miserable practice
grew up, as a result of the lack of communicants,
of the priest celebrating a so-called "Communion,"
on occasion at least, alone. It is probable that in
the earlier days, as e. g. of St. Chrysostom, there
were always clergy to receive; the "parochial" system
of that time being to congregate several clergy at
one cure. But in the ninth century, solitary celebrations
existed extensively, and were forbidden,[10] in the
West. Not, however, to much purpose. It soon
became the rule, rather than the exception, for the
priest to celebrate alone; and thus it continued
until the Reformation. The Council of Trent contented
itself with feebly wishing things were otherwise;
and justified the abuse on the ground of
vicarious celebration and spiritual communion.
It was in her gallant and noble protest, single-handed,
against this vast and desolating perversion
of the Ordinance of Christ, that the English
Church, far from her own desire, and only borne
down by the accumulated abuse of ages, lapsed into
that unhappy desuetude of the Weekly Celebration,
which prevails so widely to this hour. In her First
Revised Communion Office she provided that, in
order "that the receiving of the Sacrament may be
most agreeable to the Institution thereof, and to the
usage of the Primitive Church, some one, at the least, of
that house in every parish, to whom it appertaineth
to offer [at the Offertory] for the charges of the
Communion, or some other whom they shall provide,
shall receive the Communion with the Priest."[11]
It is added, that "on week-days he shall forbear to
celebrate except he have some that will communicate with
him." Another rubric provided, that "on Wednesdays
and Fridays" (which had traditionally[12] been
the great week-days for celebration in this country),
"though there might be none to communicate with
the priest, yet on those days" (after the Litany
ended) "he should put on a plain albe or surplice,
with a cope, and say all things at the altar appointed
to be said at the celebration, until after the
Offertory." And this rule was extended to "all other
days," meaning apparently customary high holydays,
occurring in the week, "whensoever the people were
customably assembled to pray in the church, and
none disposed to communicate with the priest."
Thus was a solemn protest made, and not in word
only, as in other parts of the Church, but by outward
deed, against the unpardonable and fatal
neglect of the people to avail themselves of the
ordinance of Christ. On Sundays only (so the rubric
seems to mean) a peculiar provision was made, so that
there should, without fail, be attendants at the celebration.
But on week-days, on which there was
no such Divine obligation to celebrate, the Church
would carry her protest still further. While vesting
her ministers, as if ready, for their parts, for the
rite, she would refuse to volunteer a mode of celebration,
for which there was no precedent in the early
and pure days of Christianity.
Such appears to have been the intention of the
First Book of Edward VI. The expedient of performing
the Communion Service up to a certain
point only, on Wednesdays and Fridays, was manifestly
adopted from the ancient Church of Alexandria,
where, as Socrates has recorded, exactly this usage
prevailed on those days. In the Second Book of
Edward VI. (revised, be it remembered, in part by
members of the same Committee of Divines as the
First was, and professing the same doctrine),[13] the provision
for the compulsory attendance of each household
in turn was laid aside, probably as being found impracticable.
And now at length the step was taken,
to which sound principles of action had in reality
pointed all along; and it was ordained that, if the
people, appealed to as they had been, and would
continue still to be, persisted on any given Sunday
in excommunicating themselves, they should even be
permitted to do so. The great unreality of a Communion,
which was no Communion according to the
Ordinance of Christ, should be done away. The
minister should still be ready on all Sundays and
holydays at the altar; but it would be left, awfully
left, for the people to say whether Christ's ordinance
should have place, or whether its continuity should
be violated, and its benefits so far forfeited.
And who will deny that such a course was, though
a choice of evils, the right one? What had the other
practice done, but lull the Church of God into a
fatal satisfaction with a state of things as widely
different from primitive Eucharist and primitive
Christianity, as any one thing can well be from
another? And if those other sad results have followed,
which we behold before our eyes, let not the
blame be laid on the age which has inherited, but
on the ages which had accumulated and transmitted,
such an inveterate habit of neglect to receive the
Holy Communion. Be it remembered, too, that (as has
been well pointed out of late) the period of the Great
Rebellion caused an entire suspension of the Church's
proper rites. "The Sacrament was laid aside, in
those distracting times, in many parishes in the
kingdom, for near twenty years." (Bishop Patrick.)
"This solemn part of religion was almost quite forgotten;
the Remembrance of Christ's Death was
soon lost among Christians." (Archbishop Tillotson.)
"The Sacrament was laid aside, in Cromwell's days,
in most parishes in the nation. In many churches
there was no speaking of the Sacrament for fifteen or
sixteen years; till it was feared the Lord's Supper
would come to be ranked among those superstitious
ceremonies that must be abolished." (Dr. Durell.)
These testimonies considered, the real wonder would
be if there had not been found very great difficulty
in bringing back, at the time of the Restoration, the
primitive habit of Weekly Celebration. And now
that we have added two hundred years more of neglect,
we have to face the mighty difficulty of awakening
a whole nation, of clergy and laity alike, to a due
sense of our very grievous departure from that
Apostolic model, to which professedly we appeal as
our standard of duty.
And the task would seem to be hopeless, were it
not, 1st, that a great and powerful movement tending
to this result has already for many years been going
forward; and, 2nd, that there is reason for believing
that vast numbers of the clergy are really anxious
to restore the primitive practice, and are only held
back by difficulties, either real or imagined. Of this
latter fact it is in my power to speak with some
confidence; since I have been frequently urged, by no
inconsiderable number of my brethren, to set forth,
as I have now very imperfectly endeavoured to do,
the grounds for such a restoration.
What then, supposing the clergy to be really
anxious for it, are the difficulties in the way? The
first and most obvious is that of finding a sufficient
number of Communicants. This is to be overcome
in a great measure by careful heed to that pregnant
charge given to the clergy at their Ordination, "So
to sanctify the lives of them and theirs, and to fashion
them after the Rule and Doctrine of Christ, that they"
(that is the clergy and their households) "may be
godly examples and patterns for the people to
follow." And again they are charged "to frame the
manners of them that specially pertain to them." These
injunctions suggest, that in the families and dependences
of the parochial clergy ought to be found
a nucleus and centre of all Christian living.
Frequent Communion, at the least—weekly, if possible—should
be the normal condition of the Clergyman's
household, and of all who are allowed any
special part in, or connexion with, the Services of the
Church. Care being taken of this, it may well be
hoped that at least a gradual reform might be made:
the stereotyped monthly Communions being exchanged
for a fortnightly, and finally for the full
"orbed round" of Weekly Celebration.
But there is also a vis inertiæ to be overcome, among
the middle classes more especially, in the form of an
objection to frequent Celebration at all. This, being
founded in misapprehension, and a vague general
distrust of the object of such changes, must be
removed, in part by full and earnest setting forth of
the grounds for them; but still more by extending
to those classes a fuller measure of education, including,
as it cannot fail to do, a juster conception
of the Church's duty and claims.
Another difficulty is the increased amount of labour
which a weekly Communion, if largely attended, as
it ought to be, would entail upon the clergy. This
may in part be compensated for by keeping the
eucharistic sermon within more moderate limits.
Even so, however, the service is to the full long
and laborious for a priest single-handed; while the
great majority of benefices are unable to maintain
a second clergyman, even in Deacon's Orders. And
the true remedy for this, and for the kindred difficulty
of maintaining the Daily Service, would seem
to lie in that revival of the Order of Subdeacons
which has of late been so much urged, and which
seems likely to be countenanced by our ecclesiastical
authorities.[14] The duties of a Subdeacon might, it
is thought, include the reading of the daily Office
(excepting, of course, the Absolution), of the Epistle,
and some other subordinate portions of the Communion
Service. And it may be worth considering
(though I offer the suggestion with much diffidence),
seeing that the Diaconate, as used among us, trenches
so largely upon the duties of old assigned to the
priest (such as preaching), whether it would not be
proportionate that the Subdeacon should be advanced,
in some cases, to a restrained Diaconate, and administer
the Cup also. Such a provision would
diminish by one-half the time and labour of administration.
On the whole, I cannot but hope that, if our
Right Reverend Fathers in God, the Bishops, should
think fit to press upon their clergy, and they upon
their flocks, the duty of Weekly Celebration as alone
fulfilling the commandment of Christ, a great deal
might be done towards rolling away this heavy
reproach from us.
And let it be borne in mind, as an encouragement,
that this is the only point absolutely wanting to
complete our agreement, in every particular, with
the apostolic practice. Such of our churches as
have already, week by week, a fairly attended
Celebration, to which all the faithful are heartily
invited and urged to come,—such churches exhibit
a spectacle of really Apostolical Eucharistic Service,
such as the whole world beside cannot produce.
Neither in East or West, but in the English Church
only, is weekly Communion, as the bounden duty
of all Christians, so much as dreamt of; so utterly
has the apostolic model, throughout Christendom,
faded from the memory of the Church of God.
I turn now to another form of eucharistic error
which has obtained some footing among us. In
what has been said above, the mind and practice of
the first ages have been appealed to as the absolute
standard of eucharistic duty. And on this point we
cannot, surely, be too solicitous, or too firm in
resisting any departure from it. Such is, at any
rate, the mind of the English Church. "Before
all things we must be sure that this Sacrament be
ministered in such wise as our Saviour did, and the
good fathers in the primitive Church frequented it."
The position amounts to this,—that whatever was
then held to be true, and was acted upon, must be
true, and ought to be acted upon still. And the
converse position is no less important,—that whatever
was demonstrably not held nor was acted upon
then, cannot be true at all, and ought not to be
acted upon now.
But this position has now, for some few years
past, been, in practice, abandoned by some who have
interested themselves in the eucharistic condition
of the English Church. Doctrines have been maintained,
and practices founded upon them, about
which, whatever defence may be set up for them,
thus much at least is certain, and can be proved to
demonstration, that they find no recognition in the
ritual of the primitive ages.
I speak more especially of the tenet, that one
purpose, and a very principal one to say the least,
of the Holy Eucharist, is to provide the Church with
an object of Divine Worship, actually enshrined in
the Elements—namely, our Lord Jesus Christ; and
that the Church ought accordingly to pay towards
that supposed personal Presence of Christ on the
altar, and towards the Elements as containing Him,
that worship, which at other times she directs to
Him as seated at the Right Hand of God. Such is
the position laid down and acted upon.
Now, it might be shewn that there are infinite
objections to this tenet, and that it involves vast difficulties
and perplexities. But the one answer which
is instar omnium, and must be held to be absolutely
decisive against it, is that it was evidently unknown
to the mind, because unrecognised by the Ritual,
of the first ages. The altar, we are told, is, for
the time being, the Majestic Throne of Christ;
His Presence there (I cite the language of the
upholders of this view) is of such a nature as to
demand at our hands the same worship as we
commonly pay to the Holy Trinity in Heaven.
Now, if this be really so, it necessitates, as a matter
of course, acts of Service, of Worship, of Prayer,
of Invocation, addressed to Christ so present and
so enthroned. Let, then, the upholders of it produce
a single instance from the Ancient Communion Offices
of a prayer, or even an invocation, so addressed.
It cannot be done. Or if there be found such an
one lurking in some remote corner of a Liturgy, its
manifest departure from the whole tone and bearing
of the rest of the Office stamps it at once as late and
unauthoritative.
And this is the leading consideration,—that the
entire drift and structure of the Eucharistic Service is
against such a view. Its keynote is "Sursum corda."
This we are now called upon to give up, and to turn our
worship, and the direction of our hearts, to an object
enshrined on earth.—But besides this, the Liturgies
throughout speak of that which is consecrated, and
lies upon the altar, as Things, and not as a person.
But if it be indeed Christ Himself that lies there, is it
reverent to speak of Him as "Things," "Offerings,"
or even as "Mysteries"? Yet what is the language
of the ancient Liturgies, after the consecration?
"Bestow on us benefit from these Offerings" (Lit.
S. Chrys.). "That we may become worthy partakers
of Thy holy Mysteries" (Syr. Lit. S. James).
"Holy Things for holy persons:" or (as it is otherwise
rendered) "The Holy Things to the Holy
Places;" or in the Western uses, "Desire these
Things (hæc) to be carried up by the hands of Thy
Holy Angel unto thy sublime altar, into the
Presence of Thy Majesty." It is intelligible, that
for the divine and mysterious Things, the Body and
Blood of Christ, we should desire contact with the
mysterious heavenly altar, on which "the Lamb that
was slain" personally presents Himself; but that we
should desire this for Christ Himself would be
incomprehensible, if not irreverent.
And let these words of S. Chrysostom's Liturgy be
especially pondered: "Hear us, O Lord Jesus Christ,
out of Thy Holy Dwelling-place, and from the
Throne of the glory of Thy kingdom; Thou that sittest
above with the Father, and here art invisibly present
with us: and by thy mighty Hand give us to partake
of Thy spotless Body and Thy precious Blood." Is
it not perfectly certain from hence, that, in the
conception of antiquity, Our Blessed Lord was not
lying personally upon the altar? that, personally, He
was, as regards His Majestic Presence, on His Throne
in Heaven? and as regards His Mysterious
Presence on earth, it was to be sought, not in or
under the Elements, but (according to the proper law
of it) in and among the faithful, the Church of God
there present? For He is invited to come, by an
especial efflux or measure of that Presence, and to
give the mysterious Things, His Body and Blood.
The same conclusion follows from the language of
the Fathers, taken in its full range. Let any one
examine Dr. Pusey's exhaustive catena of passages
from the Fathers, concerning the "Real Presence,"
and he will find that, for one instance in which That
which is on the Altar is spoken of as if it were Christ
Himself, it is called a hundred times by the title,
"His Body and Blood." The latter is manifestly the
exact truth; the former the warm and affectionate
metonymy, which gives to the mysterious Parts,
the Body and Blood, the titles due only properly to
the Divine and Personal Whole.
Vain then, and necessarily erroneous, because
utterly devoid of countenance from the ancient
Apostolic Rites, are the inferences by which this
belief is supported. Though, indeed, the fallacy of
the inferences themselves is sufficiently apparent. It
is said that Christ's Body, wherever it is, and under
whatsoever conditions existing, must demand and draw
Divine Worship towards it. Is it so indeed? Then
why, I would ask, do we not pay Divine Worship to
the Church? for the Church certainly is "His Body,
His Flesh, and His Bones." Nay, why do we not
worship the individual communicant? for he, certainly,
has received not only Christ's Body, but
Christ's very Self, to dwell within him. The truth
is, that inferences, in matters of this mysterious
nature, are perfectly untrustworthy, unless supported
and countersigned by apostolic practice.
I am aware that this doctrine has been embraced,
of late years, by some of the most devout
and eminent of our divines. But the history of
their adoption of it is such, that we may allege
themselves, in the exercise of their own earlier
and unbiassed judgment, against their present
opinions. The names of those divines are named
with reverence and affection, and justly so, wherever
the English language is spoken. But the works,
on which that estimate was first founded, upheld,
explicitly or tacitly, the opposite of that to which
they now lend the high sanction of their adhesion.
A sermon on the Catholic doctrine of the Holy
Eucharist was called forth from one of them by a
sentence of suspension from preaching in the University
pulpit at Oxford. But this full exposition
of his eucharistic views at that time is absolutely
devoid of any claim for Divine Adoration as due to
the Body and Blood of Christ, or to Christ Himself as
present under the Eucharistic Elements. Again, in a
well-known stanza of the 'Christian Year,' another
honoured divine has said,—
"O come to our Communion Feast;
There present in the heart,
Not in the hands, th' eternal Priest
Will His true self impart."[15]
And it is believed that the first appearance in a
modern days of the former doctrine, viz. that worship
is due to the Body and Blood of Christ, was in
the year 1856, in the case of Ditcher v. Denison.[16]
It was through a chivalrous desire to uphold
a cause, with the main aspects of which they
naturally felt a deep sympathy, that the writers
referred to were drawn into countenancing a
doctrine, then new to their theology, but of the
truth of which, on examination, they seem to have
satisfied themselves. Surely we may believe that
it was not without misgiving that they thus abandoned
the doctrines which they once taught us.
They cannot have felt altogether satisfied thus to break
with the Church of the First Ages in a matter so
momentous as that of the Object of worship, and of
the nature and purpose of the Holy Eucharist.
Closely connected with this doctrine, is a practice
not merely defended of late, but strongly urged as
being of the very essence of exalted Eucharistic
duty:—that of being present at the Rite without
receiving; for the purpose, it is alleged, of adoring
Christ as present under the Elements. But here
again the Early Church furnishes thorough condemnation
of the practice. In an exhaustive treatise,[17]
it has been shown that, except as a deeply penitential
act, she knew of no such practice; making
no account whatever of attendance on the rite apart
from reception: rightly viewing it as a Sacrifice
indeed, but a Sacrifice of that class or kind in which
partaking was an essential and indispensable feature.
And the English Church, it is almost unnecessary to
add, though a faint endeavour has been made to
disprove it, has given no more countenance than the
Church of old to this practice. Contenting herself,
at first, at the Reformation, with forbidding non-communicants
to remain in the choir, she afterwards
so effectually discouraged and disallowed their presence
at all, that it became unmeaning to retain the
prohibition any longer.[18]
And in truth it is, as might be expected, to the
later and corrupt ages of the Church that we owe
both of these positions which it is now attempted to
revive among us: viz. that in the language of the
decrees of Trent,[19] "our Lord Jesus Christ, God and
Man, is truly, really, and substantially contained in
the Sacrament of the Eucharist," i. e. in the Elements,
"and is to be adored" as contained therein: and
again, that the faithful may be present merely to
adore, and may communicate spiritually,[20] though, as
has been well said, "they purposely neglect the only
mode of doing so ordained by Christ."
The latter position—respecting non-communicating
attendance—has been lately discountenanced[21] by
one of those eminent divines who are generally
claimed as sanctioning the entire system to which it
belongs. And though the number of those among
the clergy who have embraced these views is not
inconsiderable, while their piety and devotedness are
unquestionable, yet I cannot doubt that at least an
equal number, in no way their inferiors in learning
or devotion, deeply deplore these departures from the
primitive faith. And it is not too much to hope,
that, as the English Church has witnessed a school
of postmediæval or unsacramental divinity, which,
notwithstanding its piety and earnestness, has ceased
to exercise much influence among us, even so it
may be with the mediæval and ultra-sacramental
school which has lately risen up. Defend their views
how they will, what they are seeking to introduce
is a new cultus, and a new religion, as purely the
device of the middle ages, as non-sacramentalism was
the device of Calvin and Zwingle. And the one
doctrine as distinctly demands a new Prayer-book
as the other does. What the English Church, on her
very front, professes, is neither postmediævalism nor
mediævalism, but apostolicity. Since choose she must,
(for the two are utterly irreconcilable) between
symbolising with the mediævalising Churches of the
West, and symbolising with the Church of the first
ages, she has taken her part, and her deliberate mind
is "Sit Anima Mea cum Apostolis."
From Rites, I turn to Ritual, which claims at this
moment the larger share of attention.
How, then, are the Services of the English
Church to be performed, so as to be in accordance
with her mind and principles? It will be
answered, that the Services ought to be conducted
according to "the Book of Common Prayer and
Administration of the Sacraments, according to the
use of the Church of England."[22] But this, though
at first sight the true and sufficient answer, is
not, in reality, either true or sufficient. The duty
in question, that of conducting the Services of the
Church, is laid upon particular persons: and it is
by recurring to the exact terms of the obligation
laid on those persons, when they are solemnly commissioned
to their office, that we must seek for an
answer. Now the engagement exacted by the
Bishop from candidates for the priesthood, at their
Ordination, is, in exact terms, this: "Will you give
your faithful diligence always so to minister the
Doctrine and Sacraments, and the Discipline of
Christ, as the Lord hath commanded, and as this
Church and Realm hath received the same?" The
italicised words contain the gist of the whole matter.
By the interpretation we put upon them must our
standard of Ritual be determined.
What then "hath this Church and Realm received,"
at the present moment, in the matter of Ritual? Not
the Prayer-book standing absolutely, and alone, without
any comment or addition whatsoever: but that Book,
as interpreted and modified, in certain respects,
by subsequent enactments, which have in various
ways obtained, practically, the Church's recognition.
The truth is, that this country has taken a certain
line, and the same line, in her ecclesiastical
and in her civil polity. In civil matters, Magna
Charta is the broad basis and general draught of
her free constitution. But the particulars of that constitution
have been from time to time regulated and
modified, not by interlining the original document,
but by separate statutes. And the Prayer-book, in
like manner, is the ecclesiastical Magna Charta of the
Church and Realm. For upwards of two centuries—since
1662—it has received no authoritative interlineation
whatever; and but few and slight ones
(subsequently to its first settlement in 1549-1559)
for another century before that. The differences
which are found at the present moment in any two
copies of the Prayer-book are purely unauthorised.
They are merely editions for convenience. The Sealed
Book, settled in 1662—that, and no other—is
the English Prayer-book. For more than three
centuries, then, we may say that a policy of non-interlineation,
so to call it—that is, of leaving intact
the original document—has been very markedly
adhered to. Such alterations or modifications as have,
practically, been made and accepted by the Church
and Realm, have been effected by enactments external
to the Prayer-book. Injunctions, canons, statutes,
judicial decisions, have from time to time been
allowed, nemine contradicente, to interpret or even
contravene particular provisions of the Book. And,
not least of all, custom itself has, in not a few particulars,
acquired the force of law, and though not as
yet engrossed in any legal document, has long been,
in practice, part and parcel of our ecclesiastical polity.
Instances in point are,—1. Of an injunction practically
recognised as law, that of Queen Elizabeth, permitting
the use of "a hymn or such like song in the
beginning or in the end of the Common Prayers;"
whereas the Prayer-book recognises no such feature or
element. It is on this injunction, and on that alone,
that the practice, now universal, is based. Other instances,
again, of royal injunctions, constantly acted
upon, are those by which the names of the sovereign
and royal family, pro re natâ, are inserted and altered;
a power given indeed, by implication, in the Prayer-book
itself, because necessary by the nature of the
case; but not expressly there,[23] and a departure,
speaking literally, from the Sealed Book. Such,
again, is the use of prayers or thanksgivings enjoined
on special occasions by royal authority. These it
has so long been customary to accept and use, that
no serious question is now made of their legality.
2. An instance of a canon obtaining recognition
by common consent, though irreconcilable with the
rubric of the Prayer-book, is that of the 58th of 1604,
which orders any minister, when "ministering the
sacraments," to wear a surplice; whereas the rubric
recognises for the Holy Communion far other "Ornaments
of the Church, and of the ministers thereof."
3. A case of statute law being allowed to supplement
rubrical provision, by adding an alternative,
is that which orders Banns of Marriage to be asked
after the Second Lesson at Evening Service, if there
be no Morning Service. Such too, as the Dean of
Westminster lately pointed out in Convocation, was
the Act of Toleration; as is also the Act empowering
bishops to require a second sermon on Sundays.
4. Judicial decisions, once more, are from time to
time unavoidable. By these a certain interpretation
is put upon the rubrics of the Prayer-book; and unless
protested against, as sometimes they are, in some
weighty and well-grounded manner, they are practically
embodied in the standing law of the Church.
5. And lastly, apart from any legal prescription
whatever, various usages and practices, especially
in matters not expressly provided for in the Prayer-book,
have obtained so generally, as to be a part
of what may be called the "common law" of the
Church, though liable to revision by the proper
authority. Such is the alternate recitation, in Churches
where it obtains, of the psalms, between the Minister
and the people. Such too is, in reality, the use of
any other mode of saying the Service than that
of reciting it on a musical note; for none other was
intended by the Church, nor is recognised in the
Prayer-book.[24] Such, once more, is the having any
sermon beyond the rubrical one.
On the whole, it cannot be gainsaid, that what "this
Church and realm hath received," and what her
Ministers, therefore, undertake to carry out in their
ministrations, is not the Book of Common Prayer,
pure and simple, but that Book as their main guide and
Magna Charta, yet interpreted and modified here and
there, and in some few but not unimportant points,
by provisions or considerations external to it. When,
therefore, the candidate for Holy Orders, or for
admission to a benefice, undertakes, by signing the
Thirty-sixth Canon, that "he will use the form in
the said Book prescribed in Public Prayer and
Administration of the Sacraments, and none other,"
it cannot be understood that the directions of that
Book are, without note, comment, or addition, his
guide in every particular. For he is about, if a
candidate for Ordination, to promise solemnly before
the Church that he will minister "as this Church
and Realm hath received;" a formula, as has been
shown, of much wider range than the letter of the
Prayer-book. And in like manner, if a candidate
for a benefice, he has already, at his Ordination,
made that larger undertaking, and cannot be understood
to narrow it now by subscribing to the Canon.
And if it be asked, Why were the terms of the
Thirty-sixth Canon made so stringent originally by
the addition of the words "and none other;" or why
should these words be retained now? the answer
is, that originally, as a matter of historical fact, the
Canon was directed against wilful depravers and
evaders of the Book and its rules; not against such
interpretations, or even variations and additions, as
had all along obtained on various grounds, and
are in fact unavoidable by the nature of things.
"No one," says the late Bishop Blomfield, "who
reads the history of those times with attention can
doubt that the object of the Legislature, who imposed
upon the clergy a subscription to the above Declaration,
was the substitution of the Book of Common
Prayer" (subject, even then, to Injunctions, Canons,
and customs already modifying it here and there) "for
the Missal of the Roman Catholics, or the Directory of
the Puritans." And the present retention of the
wording of the Canon stands on the same grounds.
It is necessary that a promise, and that of a stringent
kind, should be exacted of the clergy of a Church,
or licence would be unbounded. But on the other
hand, it is perfectly intelligible, and has the advantage
of practicability, that the words should be
understood to speak of the Book as modified in the
way in which it has all along, by universal consent,
been held to be modified. If it be replied that this,
too, opens a door to endless licence, I answer, No.
The modifications are, for the most part, as definite
as the document itself, and are in number few,
though they cover, on occasion, a considerable range
of actions. The Prayer-book, in short, is not unlike
a monarch, nominally absolute, and for the most
part really such; but on whom a certain degree of
pressure has from time to time been brought to bear,
and may be brought to bear again. But its actual
status is at any given time fairly ascertainable. It
might be well, indeed, that all this occasional legislation
should be digested by the only proper authority,
viz. the conjoint spiritualty and temporalty of the
realm, into one harmonious and duly authorised
whole. But for the time being the position of things
is sufficiently intelligible.
And now to apply this view of Prayer-book law,
so to call it, to the matter which especially engages
attention at this moment,—that of the manner of
administering the Holy Communion; and first to the
vestments of the clergy.
1. Now, if there be any one point in which the
English Church is, what she has most untruly been
asserted to be in other points, namely, broad and
alternative in her provisions, it is this one of the
ornaments or dress of her clergy. While, in the
matter of doctrine, Heaven forfend that she should
have two minds, and give her children their choice
which they should embrace—seeing that so would
she forfeit the name and being of a "Church"
altogether;—certain it is, that, from peculiar causes,
she does, in this matter of officiating vestments, give,
by her present and already ancient provisions, a
choice and an alternative. With her eyes open, and
at periods when she was most carefully scanning,
for general adoption, those provisions, has she deliberately
left on her statute-book (meaning thereby her
entire range of rules), and admitted into her practical
system, two diverse rules or practices. We may
confine our attention for the moment to the period
of the latest revision of the Prayer-book in 1662.
On that occasion the Fifty-eighth Canon of 1603,—derived
from certain "Advertisements" of Elizabeth,
and probably supported by the universal custom of the
realm,—was allowed to stand unaltered. This Canon
provides, as has been above mentioned, that "Every
minister, saying the public prayers, or ministering the
sacraments, or other rites of the Church, shall wear
a decent and comely surplice with sleeves;" only
with a special exception, recognised in another
Canon, in the case of Cathedrals. And yet on the
same occasion was retained the rubric of Elizabeth
(1559), about "the ornaments of the Church, and
of the ministers thereof," with only such variation
as fully proves that it was not an oversight, but a
deliberate perpetuation of the law concerning vestments
more especially. For the previous form of it,—dating
from 1603, and but slightly altered from
that of Elizabeth,—was, that "the minister at the
time of the Communion, and at all other times in
his ministrations, shall use such ornaments in the
Church as were in use by authority of Parliament
in the second year of the reign of King Edward VI.,
according to the Act of Parliament set in the
beginning of this Book." But the altered form was,
"Such ornaments of the Church, and of the ministers
thereof, at all times of their ministrations, shall be
retained, and be in use, as were in this Church of
England in the second year," &c.; omitting only the
mention of the Act of Parliament. It will be
observed, that in lieu of "ornaments of the Church,"
which might have seemed to be irrespective of
vestments, was now substituted "ornaments of the
Church, and of the ministers thereof." And again,
compare the words "shall be retained, and be in
use" with "shall use." In truth, the new rubric is
a citation from the Act of Elizabeth, only omitting
the limitation "until such time, &c.," and it cannot
be taken as expressing less than a real desire and
earnest hope, on the part of our latest revisers,
that the original Edwardian "ornaments" might
really be used; that they should—gradually, perhaps,
but really—supersede, in the case of the Communion
Service, the prevalent surplice.
If it be asked, how it came to pass that the
surplice had superseded the proper eucharistic vestments
prescribed by Elizabeth's rubric? we can only
answer, that the prevailing tendency during her
reign was decidedly in favour of simpler ways in
the matter of ritual; and that, the Second Book of
Edward VI. (1552), having distinctly forbidden those
vestments by the words, "the minister at the time
of the Communion, and at all other times of his
ministration, shall use neither alb, vestment, nor cope,
but, being a bishop, a rochet; and being a priest
or deacon, he shall have and wear a surplice only:"
the Elizabethan clergy would, owing to the reaction
after Queen Mary's reign, be inclined to recur to that
position rather than to retain the other vestments.
Some, indeed, did retain them, as appears by allusions
to them as in use in the beginning of Elizabeth's reign;[25]
but, as a general rule, their use was discouraged, and
apparently put down. "For the disuse of these ornaments
we may thank them that came from Geneva,
and, in the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, being
set in places of government, suffered every negligent
priest to do as he listed." (Bishop Overall.)[26]
On the other hand, one form of the Edwardian
"Ornaments" had survived, even through Elizabeth's
reign; viz. the cope (of course with the alb), chiefly
in cathedrals. For so it is recognised in the 24th
canon of 1603. "In all cathedrals and collegiate
churches the Holy Communion shall be administered
upon principal feast-days by the Bishop, the Dean, or
a Canon or Prebendary, the principal minister [i. e.
celebrant] using a decent cope." This was in accordance,
as far as it went, with the original rubric of
Edward VI.'s First Book. "The priest that shall
execute the holy ministry shall put upon him ... a
vestment, or cope." But during the Elizabethan
period two limitations had, practically, been introduced;
the cope, only, was used; and chiefly, though
not exclusively, in cathedral churches only.[27] However,
the fact that to this extent the rubric of
Edward VI. was still acted upon, might well encourage
the revisers of 1662 to contemplate a general return
to its provisions.[28] It was but a hundred years ago
that they had fallen into desuetude; and the devout
zeal of Bishop Cosin, and others among the revisers,
on behalf of the Eucharist, would lead them to desire
the restoration of whatever, in their judgment, would
tend to its higher honour and more becoming celebration.
Cosin himself was accustomed, as a Prebendary
of Durham Cathedral, to wear the cope, and to
see it worn by others; and not by the celebrant only,
but by the attendant clergy. For in his answer to
the articles of impeachment sent to the House of
Lords against him in 1640, he says "That the copes
used in that Church were brought in thither long
before his time. One there was that had the story of
the Passion embroidered upon it; but the cope that
he used to wear, when at any time he attended the Communion
Service, was of plain white satin only, without
any embroidery upon it at all."[29] The canon of 1603
must not, therefore, be understood as confining the
use of the cope to the celebrant, but only as providing
that the celebrant, at least, must, in cathedrals, be so
apparelled. It may be added, that the copes still
preserved in Durham Cathedral, and only disused[30]
within a century, are a proof that, in this
point at any rate, it is but very recently that the
Edwardian "ornaments" ceased to be used in the
English Church in our cathedrals; while, in a solitary
instance, that of the Coronation Service, the use of
copes by the Archbishop, the attendant Bishops, and
by the Dean and Canons of Westminster, survives to
the present day.
The bearing of these facts upon our subject is, that
they prove that it was in no merely antiquarian spirit
that our latest revisers retained the far-famed rubric
of Edward VI. It was as having been accustomed
to see a due access of honour and dignity accruing to
the Holy Rite, that they wished, not merely to retain
what had survived, in practice, of that rubric, but to
restore the parts of it which had fallen into disuse;
to bring back, everywhere, with the less correct
cope, that which in the rubric enjoyed a preference—the
"vestment" or chasuble,—and whatever else
the rubric involved. They hoped that the day was
come, or that it would come ere long, when the
surplice would, in respect of the Communion Service,
yield to the proper "vestment" its "ancient usual
place."[31]
And the reason why they did not at the same time
procure the formal abolition of the Canon of 1603,
which recognises the surplice for parish churches,
is, we can hardly doubt, that they wished to leave
the practical working out of the change to time,
and to the voluntary action of the parochial clergy.
There had existed ever since the year 1559 a
diversity in practice; and, ever since Elizabeth's
"Advertisements," an actual alternative in the
Church's orders about vestments. That alternative
they did not care to remove. It was by desuetude
that the irregular habit had first come in, until it
obtained recognition by the Canon of 1604: it was
to desuetude that they trusted for the removal of it.
Meanwhile, those who chose to plead usage and the
canon on the one hand, and those who preferred to
plead the statute law of the Rubric on the other,
were both alike in a fairly defensible position.
Two modes, in short, of vesting the clergy for the
Holy Communion were practically recognised at the
latest settlement of our Offices; and, until some
new enactment should supersede the one or the
other, must continue to be recognised still.
Such, I say, appears to be the position of
the law, and of clerical duty or obligation, at the
present moment. Beyond all question, this "Church
and Realm hath received" and recognised, practically,
an alternative in this matter. She has
not bound her sons absolutely, and without choice,
either to the older or the later practice. Her
position, as defined by the action of some of the
wisest and best of her sons on the last occasion—two
hundred years ago—of reconsidering her constitution,
has been one of observation and of hope; of
waiting to see which way, in a matter non-essential,
though far from unimportant, the mind of her sons
would carry her.
And now a time has arrived when the question,
after slumbering for two centuries, has awakened,
and, in a practical form, demands an answer.
Hitherto,—that is, from the time of Elizabeth (1559)
until now,—no marked desire has been manifested by
the parochial clergy to carry out the original provisions
of the Prayer-book in this matter. But now
that step has—whether by more or fewer of them I
stop not now to inquire—been taken. There are
churches in this land where the long-disused
"Ornaments" have been assumed. That which the
First Book of Edward handed on from the past;
that which the Book of Elizabeth restored after its
repeal, taking for granted that it would be operative,
though the event proved otherwise; that which the
Revisers of 1603 did not disturb, though the Canon
of the same year authorised a departure from it;
that which Cosin and his fellow-labourers, in 1662,
in language of increased strength, directed the
restoration of: this has at length come forth among
us, not in word only, but in act and visible form.
And the question is, how is the Church to deal with
this fact, and this phenomenon? It is obvious and
easy to say on the one hand—"There is no doubt
about the matter. The rubric is statute law, and
therefore overrides the canon, which is not." And
it is equally obvious and easy to say, on the other
hand—"There is no doubt about the matter: the
usage, with certain exceptions, of two hundred, or even
three hundred years, can be pleaded for the use of the
surplice at the Holy Communion. A rubric which
has been in abeyance for that period is and ought to
be considered obsolete." A great deal may be said
on behalf of both these positions; and it is very
unlikely that, debating the matter from this point of
view—i.e. from mere consideration of the comparative
weight of statute on the one hand, and custom
on the other,—we should ever arrive at a conclusion
which would satisfy the diversely constituted minds
with which these two considerations carry weight
respectively. We must, therefore, it is submitted,
take a wider view of the question, and see whether
there be not other considerations besides these, which
may lead us to a just and wise decision about it.
And one very weighty and relevant consideration,
though by no means decisive of the whole matter, is,
How far would the restoration of these vestments—I
will suppose it wisely, judiciously, and charitably
brought about—accord with the tone and feeling,
either present or growing up, of the existing English
Church? Now, it must, I think, be admitted, that
the experience of the last few years is such, as to
modify very considerably the answer to be given
to this question. The Church has within that
period succeeded in making certain ritual features
attractive to the people at large, to a degree entirely
unknown to her hitherto. She has developed, by
care and training, their capacities for the enjoyment
of a well-conceived ritual. And she has exhibited
to them phases and modes of Service to which they
and their fathers for centuries had been strangers.
I refer especially to the great movement lately made
for the improvement of parochial music throughout
the land. Indirectly and accidentally, this movement
carried with it many results of a ritual kind.
It accustomed the eyes of the generality to Services
on a scale of magnitude and dignity unknown to
them before. Instead of the single "parson and
clerk," or Minister and handful of untrained singers,
they beheld, at the Festivals, choral worship, conducted
by a multitude of clergy, and by hundreds or
thousands of choristers. And they were delighted with
it. The grandeur of such a service, its correspondence
to the glimpses of heavenly worship disclosed
to us by Holy Scripture,[32] forcibly impressed the
imagination, and enlisted the feelings. These occasions
also raised the question of how large bodies of
persons, meeting for a united act of musical worship,
should be attired, how marshalled and occupied,
while moving into their assigned places in the
Sanctuary. Hence the surplice, the processional
hymn, the banner to distinguish the several choirs,
became familiar things. They were felt to be the
natural accompaniments of such occasions. And thus
was brought to light what had hitherto been, and
with great appearance of reason, denied, viz. that
this nation differs not in its mental constitution
from other nations; that its antipathy (doubtless
existing) to these things, had been founded simply
on their being unusual, and on their supposed connection
with unsound doctrine. Once the meaning of
them was seen—Englishmen like to know the meaning
of things—the dislike and the prejudice were overcome.
And the larger gatherings at which these things
were done have reacted upon the more limited and
ordinary parochial services. Their proper object
was so to react in respect of musical proficiency
only; but they have influenced, at the same time, the
whole outward form and order of things. As one
main result, they have in many instances brought
back the proper threefold action so clearly recognised
in the Prayer-book, and so long utterly lost sight
of, except in cathedral and collegiate churches, "of
minister, clerks, and people." The appointed medium
for sustaining the clergy on the one hand, and the
congregation on the other, in the discharge of their
several parts in the service,—viz. the trained lay-clerks,
the men and boys of the practised choir,—has reappeared
and taken its due place among us. The
presence of trained persons so employed,—securing
and leading, as in the Lord's Prayer, Creed, and
Versicles, the due responsive action of the people;
conducting, as in the Psalms, Canticles, and hymns,
the "saying or singing;" supporting, as in the
processional Psalm of the Marriage Service, or in
the solemn anthems at the Burial of the Dead, the
voice of the minister; or, lastly, in the anthem,
"in quires and places where they sing," lifting priest
and people alike by music of a higher strain than
those unskilled in music can attain to;—such ministry
is assumed by the Prayer-book to have place in
every parish church in the land. And the reducing
of this theory to practice is in reality an important
step in ritual. It has enlisted the sympathies
of the laity in behalf of a fuller and richer aspect of
Service than they had heretofore been accustomed to.
In another point, too, the mental habit of this
country has undergone a change; viz. as regards
the festive use and decoration of churches. Our
harvest thanksgivings, and similar occasions, conducted
as they have been, have taught those, to
whom the lesson was perfectly new, to find in the
Services of the Sanctuary, in worship, and attendance
at the Holy Communion, a vent and expression for
their sense of thankfulness. At such times the
flower-wreath and the banner, the richly vested and
decked altar, the Choral Service, the processional
hymn, have been felt to be in place. And thus
familiarised with them, our people come even to look
for them as the natural attendants on high days of
festival.
Now it is a question at least worth asking, whether
we have not here indications of a greater disposition
than we have commonly given our people credit for, to
be moved by such things—by sacred song—by fair
vestments—by processional movement—by festal
decoration? whether we have not been foregoing
hitherto, to our great loss, certain effective ways of influencing
our people for good? whether there must not,
after all, be less truth than has been commonly supposed
in the received maxim, that Englishmen care
nothing about these things, nor can be brought to care
for them; that they have not in them, in short, the
faculty of being affected by externals in religious
matters; that the sober Saxon spirit loves, above all
things, a simple and unadorned worship, and the like?
The writer is not ashamed to confess that he has in
time past shared in this estimate of his countrymen;
but that experience has greatly shaken his confidence
in the correctness of it. And he may, therefore, be
accepted, perhaps, as a somewhat unprejudiced witness,
when he testifies to so much as has come under
his own notice as to the effect of the "ritual developments,"
so to call them, of which he has above spoken.
He can bear witness, then, that with these accompaniments,
the Services of the Sanctuary have become
to many, manifestly, a pleasure and a delight; that these
influences are found to touch and move, even to tears,
those harder and more rugged natures which are accessible
to scarce anything else; breaking even through
the crust of formality or indifference which grows so
commonly over the heart of middle age. Is it irreverent
to think and believe that what these simple
souls witness to, as their own experience in presence
of a kind of ritual new to them, though familiar of
old to their fathers, and to the Church throughout
the world, is but an anticipation of what our great
poet, Puritan though he was, has described as among
the consolations of the blessed? That which our poor
peasants gratefully find provided for them on the
Church's days of festival, is no other, in its degree,
than what, to the poet's thought, awaited his Lycidas
"in the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love:"—
"There entertain him all the saints above,
In solemn troops and sweet societies,
That sing, and, singing, in their glory move,
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes."
It will be understood that the writer is not now
engaged in advocating these particular practices as
binding upon us, or even as capable of being
introduced everywhere; but only pointing out that,
in the acceptance and welcome with which this whole
side of ritual action has been received, even in
unlikely quarters, we have some indication of the
probable effect on the general mind of other well-considered
ritual restorations.
And if it be still contended that the more usual
condition of the English mind is that which has
been above described, viz. of preferring a religion
which reaches them mainly through the ear, and
appeals but little to the eye, I venture to suggest
that—(granting this to be so)—if a given nation is
wanting in one particular religious sense, that is the
very reason why that sense should be carefully
educated. If the Italian is over-sensuous, as it
would probably be agreed that he is, in his religious
constitution, he is the very person that needs for
his improvement intellectual development. And just
so, if the Englishman is, in religious matters, unsusceptible,
comparatively, of æsthetic influences, the
inference is, not that these should be carefully kept
from him, but that he should, as he is able to bear,
be subjected to them.
The bearing of what has now been said upon the
restoration of the vestments and the like, is this. The
most obvious objection to it is, that the rubric in
question has been in abeyance for long years,
or even centuries; and that this proves that it does
not suit the genius of the English nation. I have
shown, indeed, that, as appears from the history of
the period in question,—and other evidence might
be adduced,—the rubric has not been altogether
dormant in times past. Still, the case for desuetude
is a very strong one, no doubt; and there is but
one thing that could possibly invalidate it, and that
is, the existence of unmistakable indications that the
revival would, notwithstanding the long abeyance
of the rubric, meet some rising need or aspiration of
the hour. If it does that, then the negative argument,
that there is no place or call for the restoration,—that
it is the mere galvanization of a dead thing,
or, at best, the summoning of it back to a life which
must be fugitive and evanescent, because there is
not atmosphere for it to breathe,—is at once done
away with.
But let us now briefly inquire what are the positive
recommendations, if any, of the eucharistic vestments
which it is proposed to restore.
In the first place, then, it is alleged, that to
provide for the Holy Eucharist special vestures
of any kind, not only harmonizes with the transcendent
superiority of the rite itself above all other
kinds of worship, but is the proper correlative of
much that has been doing of late years in the
English Church. Is it consistent, it is asked,
to give to chancel, and sacrarium, and altar, all the
chastened richness and beauty of which they are
capable, and yet to deny to the celebrant at the holy
Rite all adornment beyond surplice and stole? Even
if we had never possessed any distinct eucharistic
vestments, we might well, it is said, as a matter of
consistency, introduce them.
But next, let us ask, do these particular vestments
possess any claim upon us, beyond the fact of
their being different from the ordinary surplice, and
of their being prescribed in the rubric? And here,
certainly (when we come to inquire into their history)
their wonderful antiquity, universality, and probable
rationale, cannot but make a deep impression upon
us. They have been so fully described in recent
publications,[33] to which the reader can refer, that
there is the less need to enter into particulars about
them here. The most interesting circumstance
hitherto brought to light respecting them, is this; that
there is no reason for doubting that they are, as to
their form, no other than the every-day garments of
the ancient world in East and West, such as they existed
at the time of Our Lord, and for many ages before. Mr.
Skinner has proved this to demonstration. There was,
1st, the long and close "coat," "tunic," or "vesture,"
called from its colour (as a ministerial garment), the
"alb;" 2nd, the broad "border" of this coat,
often of the richest materials, which developed,
ecclesiastically, into the "orarium" (probably from
ora, a border) or "stole;" 3rd, the girdle, combining
easily with the "stole;" 4th, the "garment" or
"robe" (ecclesiastically the "casula" or "chasuble"),
covering the tunic down to the knees, and so
allowing the ends of the "border" (or "stole") to
appear. "Such," says Mr. Skinner, "were the
ordinary vestments in daily common use in East and
West."[34] These would be, naturally, the garments
in which, like our Lord himself, the Apostles and
others would officiate at the Holy Eucharist,
and then reverence would preserve them in subsequent
ages. No other supposition can account for
their universality, as ministering garments, throughout
the world. And how wonderful the interest
attaching to them, even were this all! How fitting
that the Celebrant, the representative, however unworthily,
of our Lord himself, in His most solemn Action,
should be clad even as He was!
But this is not all. There are circumstances which
this rationale of the vestments, though correct as far
as it goes, does not account for.
First, in the vestment-customs both of East and
West there is recognition, though in different ways,
of some covering for the head. In East and West
a bonnet or mitre is worn by Bishops. In celebrating,
in the West, a small garment called the "amice,"
of fine white linen, with a very rich edge or fillet, is
first placed on the head of the Celebrant, and then
removed to his shoulders, so that the rich edge rests at
first on the forehead, and then appears from under the
alb and chasuble.[35] Now the prayer, with which this
singular appendage is put on ("Place on my head,
O Lord, the helmet of salvation"), proves that it
represents a bonnet or head-covering.
Again, the fact that the stole is not a mere border,
but detached, both in East and West, from the tunic
or alb, and in the West, rests on the shoulders, is
singular. In the East it is a broad double stripe of
costly silk, richly embroidered, hanging down in
front of the wearer; and often[36] adorned with gems
and gold; while in the West it is crossed[37] on the
breast in celebrating: and throughout the East and
West extraordinary importance has from early times
attached to it, it being worn in every sacred
function.[38]
Now there is but one way of accounting for these
curious arrangements. It is, that, at a very early
period, the course was adopted of assimilating the
ministering vestments of the clergy—especially in
celebrating—to those of the Jewish High Priest.
This could with great facility be done, because these
vestments themselves were only the usual Eastern
dress, glorified and enriched, with some especial additions.
There was (Exod. xxviii.), besides the ephod,
which was a rich under-garment—1. The long "embroidered
coat or tunic of fine linen" (v. 39). 2.
The "curious girdle of the ephod," which appears to
have girded in both ephod and tunic. 3. The singular
combination of the shoulder-pieces and breastplate,
which together formed one whole, and were among
the richest and most peculiar insignia of the High
Priesthood: the names of the Twelve Tribes being
engraven, in the costliest gems, both on the shoulder-pieces
and breastplate, as a means of making "memorial"
of the people, with especial power, before
God (vv. 9-30). 4. The outer garment or "robe of
the ephod" (v. 31), all of blue, of circular form, with
a "hole in the top of it, in the midst thereof," to pass
it over the head of the wearer; whereas the ordinary
outer garments were square, and thrown loosely on.
On the hem were pomegranates and golden bells
alternating. 5. And lastly, the "mitre of fine linen"
(v. 39), and upon it, on the forehead, the "plate of
pure gold" (πέταλον]), in virtue of which Aaron
"bore," or did away with, through his ministerial
sanctity, the imperfections of the people's offerings
(v. 38).
Now here, at length, we have a full account of the
rationale of the Eucharistic vestments, and specially
of those parts of them which differed from the ordinary
clothing of early days. We see that the
"border" of the ordinary tunic was therefore detached
from it, beautified with embroidery, and enriched
with gems, because the Aaronic shoulder-pieces
and breastplate were thus detached, and were so
adorned. The Greek name for the stole is still,
for priests, the "neck-garment," for bishops, the
"shoulder-piece" (omophorion).
Again, the "bonnet or mitre," or its substitute,
the "amice," is therefore of "fine linen," and has a
peculiarly rich "fillet," and must be placed upon
the head for a symbol, so as to bring the fillet upon
the forehead, because of the wondrous power and
significance of the Aaronic "plate of gold," similarly
placed.
We cannot, in short, resist the conclusion that the
Church did, at some very early period (as the universality
of these things proves), assimilate the old
simple vestments, of set purpose, to the richer and
more significant Aaronic ones. And if we ask how
early this was done, the answer is, that the first
beginnings of it were made even in the lifetime of
the Apostles. For Eusebius cites Polycrates, Bishop
of Ephesus (A.D. 198), as testifying of St. John at
Ephesus, that "as a priest he wore the πέταλον, or
plate of gold."[39] And Epiphanius[40] says the same
of St. James, Bishop of Jerusalem. Later (c. 320),
Eusebius addresses the priests as "wearing the long
garment, the crown, and the priestly robe."[41] The
plate of gold, on a bonnet or mitre, is still used
at celebration by the Patriarch of Alexandria.[42] And
the Armenian Church, whose traditions, where they
differ from those of the rest of the world, are generally
of immense antiquity, actually has the breastplate,[43]
only with the names of the Twelve Apostles, instead
of those of the Twelve Tribes.
We now see, then, how it came to pass that the
stole is what it is in East and West; why it is so
highly symbolical of ministerial power; why made so
rich; why crossed on the breast in celebrating;
why, with all its richness, put under the chasuble: scil.
because, like the Aaronic breastplate, it was a memorial
"before God" of the preciousness of God's people,
whom the priest bore, as he should bear still, on
his shoulder and on his heart, in his ministry of labour
and of love. We see, again, why the "apparel" of
the "amice" is so rich, because anciently of gold;
why placed on the forehead, the seat of thought, scil.
that the priest may be mindful of his "ministry of
reconciliation;" and why accompanied with a prayer
for the "helmet of salvation."
And even the ordinary vestments, the surplice, and
stole, and hood, derive a clear rationale and fitness
from the same source. The surplice (superpellicium),
as Mr. Skinner teaches us,[44] is only the close tunic or
"alb," so enlarged as conveniently to cover the
pellicium, or coat of fur or skin which the clergy wore
in the choir. The stole, crossed at celebration, loses
its resemblance to the breastplate, and its allusion to
the Cross, at the lower ministry of the Ordinary
Office, being worn pendent. The hood is the amice
in simpler and less significant form, intended originally
to be actually worn on the head, and still
capable of being so; its varying form and colour
only indicating the particular sodality to which the
wearer belongs.
Of the cope it is needless to say more than that it
is properly processional, though recognised in the
English Church (as in the Armenian) for celebration,
and for the clergy in the choir on high festivals.
It may be added that the English vestments differ
sufficiently from those of foreign Churches to have a
national character.
It thus appears that the Eucharistic vestments,
and even our ordinary ones through them, are a link
of a marvellously interesting kind between us and
antiquity, even Apostolic antiquity; and between us
and the whole Christian world. Nay, our vestments,
like our Services, connect us with the old Mosaic
Ordinances. They ought to be grave reasons indeed,
which should induce us to raze them from our
statute-book, whatever became of the question of
their restoration to general use.
Of other usages now under debate, I would
mention briefly—1. The position of the celebrant
during the office; 2. The two lights on the altar;
3. Incense; 4. The mixed chalice; 5. The crucifix.
1. There is no real doubt whatever as to the intention
of the English Church about the position
of the celebrant in administering the Holy Communion.
In order to make the matter plain, it is to be observed,
that the slab or surface of the Altar, or Holy
Table—there is a wonderful equableness in the use
of the two terms by antiquity[45]—was always conceived
of as divided into three portions of about equal size. The
central one, called the media pars, was exclusively
used for actual celebration, and often had a slab of
stone[46] let into it, called mensa consecratoria. The
other portions were called the latus sinistrum and
dextrum, or Septentrionale et Australe.[47] These would
be in English the "midst of the Altar," the "left or
north side," and the "right or south side:" the term
"side" being used with reference to the "middle
portion." The most solemn parts of the rite, then,
were performed "at the middle" of the Table; the
subordinate parts "at the northern or southern portions."
In all cases, "at" certainly meant with the
face turned eastwards. Now, in the First Book of
Edward VI., it was ordered that the very beginning
of the Service should be said "afore the midst of the
altar;" i.e. before the "media pars." As to the rest
of the Service, it was doubtless to be said in the
ancient customary places: the old rule being, that
all after the preparatory prayer to the end of the
Epistle was said at the south side. In the Second
Book the order was, "the Priest standing at the
North-side of the Table shall say the Lord's Prayer,"
&c. This could not possibly, in those days, be understood
to mean anything else than facing the left-hand,
or northern portion of the Table. The reason of the
change to the "north-side" probably was, 1. That
permission was now given to stop short on occasion
of celebration; in which case it would hardly be
seemly to stand at the centre or consecrating portion
of the Table; and perhaps, 2. To avoid a change
of position beyond the two specified. But it was
doubtless intended that the centre should still be used
for actual consecration, even as it was in the First
Book, though no order was given in either case, to that
effect. The order for the "north-side" was only put
in because it was a new arrangement. And it will
be observed that the term used is "the North-side:"
apparently indicating that a special and well-known
part of the Table is meant. The present most incorrect
practice, of standing at the north end, probably
arose from two causes,—first, the infrequency of
celebrations, which caused the habit to be formed
of standing somewhat northwards; while the old distinct
conception of the position had passed away:
secondly, from the practice—probably in use[48] of
old in our Church—of placing the vessels and unconsecrated
elements, if there was no credence-table,
on the non-consecrating part of the altar, where it was
found convenient to keep them still when consecrating.
It may be questioned whether it be not
still correct, or allowable however, thus to make
use of the less important parts of the Table to serve
as a Credence, if none other is provided. But the
consecration should always take place at the middle
of the Holy Table.
The position thus prescribed, by unbroken ancient
rule, for consecration, is by no means unimportant.
By it is signified and expressed the solemn oblation
and sacrificial presentation made by the celebrant,
after the example of Christ,—leading the people, and
carrying them with him in the action. For the
primitive view of the institution, recognised in
every ancient Communion Service, is, that when Our
Blessed Lord "took bread, and blessed, and brake it,"
He thereby, in a deep mystery, presented before God,
through the medium of the element which He had
chosen, the Sacrifice of His Body. That Sacrifice
was to be consummated, indeed, on the morrow; or by
Jewish reckoning, at any rate, at a later hour on the
same day. But it was already, in a mystery, and
by the yielding up His Will, begun, and in operation.
This is implied by the exact and expressive language
of the Institution—"This is my Body which is
being given (διδόμενον) or broken (κλώμενον); my
Blood which is being shed, for you." Hence, too, it
was that He could say of the Bread and Wine—"This
is my Body, my Blood;" because these had,
as being the medium through which they were
offered, been mysteriously, as regards virtue or
power, identified therewith.[49] And what the celebrant
does, at any celebration, is to imitate, in his
humble measure, and as Christ ordained, the action
of Christ. In order to this it is important, and has
ever been the custom of the Church, that he should
stand at the midst of the Holy Table as one leading
a common action for all. In the East he stands
eastward of the Table, facing the people; in the
West, westward of the Table, and looking away from
them: in both cases alike he is "in the midst," offering
for and with them.
In some cathedrals, as Exeter, and at Westminster
Abbey, the remains of the ancient practice are to be
seen; the vessels being placed, the offerings of the
clergy made, and the Confession said, at the middle of
the Table.
2. The question of the legal position of the "two
lights on the altar" is a somewhat complicated one.
But in its general aspect the usage derives a sanction
and an interest from the fact that "oil for the
light" is among the things recognised in the 3rd
Apostolical Canon; and further, that the "two
lights" are used in the Syriac Liturgy of St. James[50]
(from which we may have derived them through
Theodore of Tarsus): whereas all the West, except
ourselves, has seven lights. In point of effect, not
much can be said for them; but the symbolism is
beautiful and interesting. The Eastern Church, in
particular, has always associated artificial light—viewed
as dispelling natural darkness—with our
Lord's coming to the world, as its supernatural and
heavenly Light. It is well to remember, too, that
the only accompaniment of the shewbread, of which
so much has been said above, was, together with
incense, artificial light; and even in the blaze of
heavenly ritual there were seven lamps burning.[51]
These considerations, joined to the well-known
Injunction of Edward VI., for the retention of "two
lights," certainly give the usage a good position,
when we are considering what is the mind, fairly
and liberally estimated, of the English Church.
Nor is it unimportant to observe, that even the
candlesticks themselves, if in any case it is not
thought well to light the candles, possess a symbolism
of their own: just as e. g. the maniple of the Western
Church, now disused but still worn, is a memento of
that for which (it is said) it was intended, viz. to
be used as a sudarium in the labours of the priesthood.
It may be remarked, too, that in St. John's
vision, what he saw was "golden candlesticks"
(λυχνίαι); not burning candles or lamps (λύχνοι or
λαμπάδες πυρὸς) (St. John v. 35; Rev. v. 8, viii. 3).
3. Incense, it may be observed, has precisely the
same degree of recommendation from antiquity as
the "two lights." It was used with the shewbread
and the peace-offerings; it has a beautiful symbolism;
it is recognised as on a par with "oil for the lamp"
in the Apostolic Canon; and it finds a place in
the heavenly ritual (Rev. viii. 3). Its historical
position with us is weaker; but if used, it would
certainly be in accordance with the mind of the
English Church to use it in a very simple manner.[52]
Its proper purpose is twofold—1. To purify by its
sweetness; and 2. To symbolise both the purity of
acceptable offering, and its power of ascending,
through Christ's mediation, to heaven.
4. The question of the "mixed chalice," or of the
mingling of water with the wine in the Holy
Eucharist, cannot be called one of high importance.
It has been maintained that it is one of those things
which, as having been universal throughout the
Church from an early period, must be apostolic;[53]
but the assertion is unfounded. There is a very
large and important branch of the Church which
does not at this day, and which, we may safely
affirm, never did, mix water with the wine, viz. the
Armenian. The Armenian Church is remarkable
for the tenacity with which it has, from very early
times, in respect of things indifferent, adhered to
old traditions, when the whole of the rest of the
Church have departed from them. The introduction
of the observance of Christmas-Day, for example,
took place in the East in St. Chrysostom's time,
being borrowed, as he informs us, from the West.
This the Armenian Church declined to adopt. Their
vestment-traditions, again, as we have seen, are
peculiar; and they positively assert their immense
antiquity.[54] Hence it might even be, that the Armenian
Church had alone preserved the apostolic
usage in this matter, and that all the other Churches
had departed therefrom. However, as the term
"mixture" is applied by Justin Martyr to the
cup, and as the matter is incapable of proof one
way or the other, it is best to suppose that there
were two traditions or habits in the matter; and
this is quite sufficient to justify the English Church
in having, as far as her rubric is concerned, laid
the usage aside in the Second Book of Edward. At
the same time, as the custom certainly survived[55]
in the English Church after the Revision, and is all
but universal, and has interesting symbolical meanings[56]
attached to it, it may well be tolerated, should
a policy of toleration be adopted at this juncture
by the English Church.
5. I come to speak, in the next place, of the crucifix,
which is among the "ornaments of the Church"
attempted to be restored at the present day. It is
difficult, however, to conceive any two things standing
on more widely different ground than this, and any
one of those ornaments or usages before-mentioned.
They, in every case, whether vestments, position of
the celebrant, altar-lights, incense, or the mixed
chalice, can plead immense antiquity, and all but
universality at the present day; neither are they
connected of necessity with superstitious usages.
But with the crucifix, the reverse of all this is the
case. It was utterly unknown to the Church of
early days; it is unknown, strictly speaking, to the
Eastern Church; and it has given occasion in time
past, as it does at this day, to the grossest superstitions.
The use of it, as experience has proved, is in
reality the merest tampering with the principles of
our nature; ever ready (as the length and vehemence
of the Second Commandment sufficiently testifies) to
save ourselves the trouble of "seeing Him who is
invisible," and to fasten our faith on some outward
object instead. And there is this especial objection
to associating the crucifix with the Holy Communion
more especially, that (as was recently well
observed by the Bishop of Exeter) there are provided
thereby, in dangerous rivalry, two representations or
"shewings forth," of the Body of Christ, and of the
Death of Christ; the one "ordained by Christ himself,
as a means whereby we receive the same;" the other,
"that which our own fingers have made," and moreover,
"a fond thing vainly invented, and grounded
upon no warranty of Scripture," or of the ancient
Church. Can it be well, even supposing the usage
not to result (though full surely it will) in idolatrous
veneration—can it be well to divide the mind, in
such an hour, between the appointed mode of contemplating,
with deepest awe and love, the Mystery of
our Redemption, and another mode, which, were it
never so defensible otherwise, may not dare to lift
itself into any comparison with that far more touching
exhibition of His Dying Love which Christ
Himself, at every Communion, "sets forth among us?"
I know by experience, in particular instances, that
this danger is by no means imaginary: and I confess
to having the deepest conviction of the rashness and
folly of attempting to reintroduce, even among sober
Englishmen and Englishwomen—especially in connection
with the Holy Eucharist—this snare of mediæval
Christendom.
If it be objected that the Cross is open to the same
objection, I answer, No. The Cross, as experience
proves, while it reminds us of the Death of Christ,
does not draw out that warm feeling, which is at
once so delightful and so dangerous to some classes
of minds. And the same may be said of pictorial or
sculptured representations of the entire Crucifixion,
where the larger treatment of the subject makes all
the difference. It is the concentration of thought and
devotion upon the natural resemblance or representation
of Christ Himself, that renders the crucifix so
dangerous, and infallibly draws on its votaries to a
breach of the Second Commandment.
Other observances must be spoken of more in
the mass, as it would be impossible to detail them
severally. Suffice it to say, that an attempt is now
being made to introduce, in conjunction with the
vestments and other "ornaments" above mentioned,
a minutely elaborated ceremonial, applying to every
part of the eucharistic rite.
The ground taken up for this is, 1st, that "ornaments"
cannot always be very clearly distinguished
from usages, and therefore include them. But surely
it is much to be remarked that the rubric does specify
"ornaments," so that, although, accidentally, usages
arising out of these ornaments are involved,—as, e.g.
the candlesticks and candles involve or suggest the
lighting of the candles,—yet the rubric cannot be
taken to include usages which stand unconnected
with ornaments, such as making the sign of the
cross, or the like.
But it is contended, further, that not only are
usages, as well as "ornaments," covered (as no doubt
they are to some extent) by the rubric, but that it
actually legalizes everything, whether ornament or
usage, which was in use in the twenty-fifth year of
Henry VIII. The ground for this startling assertion,—which
has been made the basis of a vast and
elaborate system of ritual,[57]—is that the second year
of Edward VI. (which is named in the rubric)
includes a considerable period preceding the passing
of the Prayer-book Act. That year, it is contended,
commenced on January 28th, 1548, and extended
to January 28th, 1549; so that the Prayer-book
(which was not established until January 15th, 1549,
by 2 and 3 Edward VI., c. 1) is only a part of
what the rubric refers to, and merely "supplemental
to the old canons and constitutions."[58] We must
accept, we are told, all that was in use by the
authority of Parliament in 1548-49. Now, the
latest enactment of Parliament on the subject,
previous to that year, was the 25 Henry VIII., c.
19, which legalizes everything then in use. So that,
in short, we are, by the rubric, thrown back upon
part of the pre-Reformation period.
The truer view would seem to be that what is
implied in the Book, or named in it, is permissible.
Certainly the Prayer-book is elsewhere in legal
documents (as my friend Mr. Shaw has shown[59])
exclusively meant when "the second year of Edward
VI." is spoken of. It may be added, that the most
recent judicial decision bearing on the point (re
Westerton v. Liddell) expressly lays down that the
Prayer-book, and the Prayer-book alone, is what
the rubric refers to.
But, in truth, there are other considerations which
take away all justification whatever from nine-tenths
of the ceremonies which are now being introduced
among us. In the first place, a great many of them,
perhaps the greater number, are not old English
ceremonies at all, but foreign ones, derived from
the existing practice—not always of very great antiquity—of
the Church of Rome. Now, without going
so far as to say that those who have introduced
them have thereby incurred the pains and penalties
of a præmunire, as having brought in "the fashions
of the Bishop of Rome, his ways and customs," it
must be plain that it is impossible to justify such
practices upon, the ground alleged. Plainly, you
cannot base foreign customs on an English rubric. The
rubric legalises "such ornaments ... as were in this
Church of England, by the authority of Parliament,
in the second year of King Edward the Sixth." And
this, we are told, includes "usages," and all usages
known to the latter part of Henry VIII.'s reign.
Be it so, however vast the concession. But will that
justify a single usage which was not "in this Church
of England," ever since it was a Church at all?
Is it not plain that, so far forth as the ceremonies
now introduced never were English ceremonies, they
break the very rubric to which they appeal? Now
it is notorious that a great part of these ceremonies
are brought in on the authority of a work
frequently referred to in these pages, called 'Directorium
Anglicanum.' And in that work the modern
Roman usages, to the disregard of the ancient
English, and often in direct contravention of them,
are to a very great extent recommended. I will
take but a single instance,—the very first direction
in the book as to the "Order of Administration,"
p. 23. It concerns the colours for the
vestments;—not a matter of the first importance, it
may be. But so it is, that the Roman colours are
prescribed in the text, and the English ones merely
mentioned in a note. And this is but one instance,
out of a vast number, of the entire untrustworthiness
of that work as a guide to the ancient English
usages. Under the delusive title of 'Directorium
Anglicanum,' it has presented to the unwary student
of ritual, mixed up with our own usages of old
time, the most recent Roman ones. It may be
hoped that this fact, when pointed out to such
of our brethren as have been misled by that
learned but most unjustifiable publication, will induce
them to modify their present practice.
"But," it will be contended, "surely we may claim
to reintroduce all ancient English ceremonies; such
as elevating the Elements after consecration; making
the sign of the cross in consecrating, and again over
the head of each communicant before administering;—or
such, again, as frequent bowing and genuflection;—various
regulated movements to and fro,—as at the
saying of the Creed;—swinging of censers again and
again in various directions; with many other ceremonies."
To all this, however, there is an answer
which, I humbly conceive, is unanswerable. It is
this,—that the English Church, to whose laws they
appeal, has expressly abolished some of these ceremonies,
and laid her prohibition upon the use of more
than a very moderate number of any kind.
I refer, first, to the fact that she withdrew from
her Service-book certain orders previously embodied
in it for the performance of some of these actions.
Under this head comes the elevation of the Elements
after consecration. This is confessedly, even by the
admission of Roman writers, a modern ceremony,
not older than the twelfth century.[60] However, in
the old English Service-books the order was, "After
the words, 'For this is my Body,' the priest shall
bend himself towards the Host, and afterwards lift
it above his forehead, that it may be seen by the
people." But in the Communion Office of 1549,
this was forbidden by rubric, "These words are to
be said without any elevation, or shewing to the
people." And the Articles of 1562-1571 confirm
this, saying, that "the sacrament was not by Christ's
ordinance lifted up or worshipped" (Art. 28). So,
again, the sign of the cross was, according to the
First Book of Edward, to be used at consecration;
but in the Second it was withdrawn. Nor, I believe,
can any rehabilitation of these practices be alleged
(as can be done in the case of lights or incense)
from subsequent injunctions, canons, or customs.
It is in vain to say that there was anything
accidental in the omission of the cross at consecration,
since it was carefully retained at baptism, and
defended subsequently in the canons of 1603; or that
the "elevation" or lifting up, "and worshipping,"
was restored by the omission of the prohibition in
1549, since by 1562 (Articles) it was expressly
disallowed. Those who plead, as a support to the
rubric, the better mind of the Church, as manifested
in the wishes of her great men—her Andreweses and
Cosins—and even in her canons of 1603—must accept
the fact, that by that better mind and those canons
these usages are never advocated.
Again, as to the number of ceremonies. The
Preface entitled 'Ceremonies; why some be abolished,
and some retained,' prefixed to the First
Book of Edward, distinctly announces a new state of
things in this respect. The "excessive multitude"
of them is complained of; and it is clearly implied
that those which remain are few and simple. The
only question, in short, is, how many were left.
The allegation that none are abolished is simply
and utterly untenable. And we have this general
principle laid down by that Preface for our guidance,
that excess of ceremonies, or any great multiplying
of them, such as now recommended, is absolutely
irreconcilable with the mind of our Church.
On the whole, then, to conclude this part of my
subject, there ought to be no real difficulty among
us as to what is fairly permissible, and answers to
the mind of the English Church—taking a wide and
liberal view of that mind—in the matter of ritual.
Two leading conceptions, NOBLENESS with SIMPLICITY,
sum up her general desires on this subject. In the
due observance of these, it is her deliberate judgment,
(as represented by her wisest sons,—as Ridley,
Andrewes, Overall, Cosin), will be found the best
security for worthy worship on the one hand, and for
devout worship on the other.
And when we come to the carrying out of these
conceptions there are yet other two principles by
which she is guided, viz. regard for primitive usage;
and yet, again, forbearance from pressing even such
usage in particular instances where it is likely to do
more harm than good. And all along she supremely
tenders that purity of Apostolic doctrine, which is
dearer to her than life itself, and by its bearing upon
which every rite or ceremony must ultimately be
tried.
From antiquity accordingly, as has been shown
above, she has derived, together with her pure doctrine,
"her beautiful garments:" alike her surplice,
stole, and hood, and her chasuble, alb, and amice.
Yet, as regards the obligatory adoption of these, she
has, with a grand charity, more beautiful than the
richest of the garments themselves, forborne, for 300
years, to press upon an imperfectly trained people
those which, in the judgment of her most learned
and primitively-minded sons, best beseemed that
high Ordinance. And even now, albeit she has
done much towards training this nation in loftier
conceptions of what is seemly in the matter of ritual;
although she has reawakened the appreciation of
music and architecture, of colour and carving, of
festival decoration and choral worship; though she
has, especially by the superior costliness and beauty
lavished on the sacrarium and the altar, by increased
care and reverence in administration of the Holy
Eucharist, lifted that ordinance into something more
of its due pre-eminence over all other Service; though
many subordinate considerations point in the way
of analogy and proportion, in the same directions;
though every step by which she has enriched her
ordinary worship,—such as the bringing back, within
a very few years, of stole and hood for the clergy,
and of surplices for the lay members of the choir—though
this all but demands some different vestments,
at the least, for the celebrant and assistants at the
Holy Communion: nevertheless, she will not, if she
is well-advised, withdraw or disallow that wise alternative
which has practically existed all along in this
matter, but still let surplice and vestment stand
side by side for the option of the clergy and people.
Nor yet again, on the other hand, strong as is the
simpler surplice in its prescription—not, however,
unvarying—of 300 years, as a eucharistic vestment
in the English Church—in its purity of appearance
and gracefulness of form—and in the associations and
affections of this generation;—simpler and easier as it
is to side with the greater number, and to acquiesce
in the less excellent way for the sake of peace:—the
Church will not, if well-advised, yield to these considerations
either. She will still leave on her statute-book
that ancient direction concerning vestments
which has been her primary law through the vicissitudes
of 300 years; which connects her, even in its
abeyance, with the Apostolic Church of old, and with
the Church universal now; and which may, if wisely
and charitably administered, effectively co-operate in
bringing back to the Church of God her lost jewel—nowhere
now to be found on earth—of full and
thorough conformity, in doctrine and worship, with
the Apostolic and Primitive Church.
And as regards other ceremonies, while she expects
not, nor desires, a rigid uniformity in minor actions,
nor has laid down any such code for the observance
of her ministers; she will on the one hand seek to
realise a higher standard, in point of care and reverence,
than has hitherto, perhaps, prevailed among
us: but, on the other, she will continue her 300 years'
protest against multitudinous and operose ceremonies,
as being full surely destructive, in the long run, of
the life of devotion.
I have now accomplished, though in a very imperfect
manner, my self-imposed task: dwelling, in all
humility and anxiety, on our shortcomings and excesses,
as well in the matter of Rites and Doctrine, as
in that of Ritual.
And if it be asked, in conclusion, What then is to
be done? what action does a view of the whole circumstances
prompt? or how are we to win our way
back, under God, to a more perfect model? my
answer and my humble counsel would be as follows:—
Let me first be permitted to remind the reader of
the present aspect of our Church, such as it was presented
to view in an earlier page. Let it be remembered
and taken home as an anxious and alarming
truth, that were an Apostle, or a Christian of early
days, to "pass through" the land and "behold our
devotions," on our high day of Service, during three-fourths
of the year, he could arrive at no other conclusion,
from what he saw with his eyes, than that he
was not in a Christian land at all. For he would miss,
Sunday after Sunday, in more than eleven thousand
of our churches, the one badge, and symbol, and
bond of membership in Christ, the Holy Eucharist.
Such a one could not possibly understand our Christianity;
the land would be in his eyes an absolute desolation.
And if among these thousands of altars without
a sacrifice, and of Christian congregations failing to
offer the one supremely ordained Christian worship,
he chanced here and there to light upon a happy
exception, how would his eyes still be grieved, and
his heart pained at the fewness of communicants!
He could only conclude that Christianity had very
recently been established here, and that the number of
the unbaptized and catechumens was still tenfold
that of the faithful. But there would be yet one
other novel sight that would here and there present
itself to him. He would perceive with astonishment
that, in some instances, the eucharistic worship was
offered not to "Our Father which is in Heaven," or
to Christ, as seated with His Father on His Throne
of Glory; but as contained in the Elements. But his
astonishment would reach its height when he observed,
further, that not much account was made, at this
Service, of the reception of the life-giving Sacrament,
as the crowning and supreme circumstance of the
offering; but that it was rather discouraged, in proportion
as the Service was designed to be of a loftier
strain, and a superior acceptableness.
Is it too much to say that, on view of these things—these
vast deflections on the right hand and on
the left, in defect and in excess, from Apostolic
ways—it would not much grieve or move such an one
as I am supposing, whether the "vestment" in
which the Service was offered was merely of "fine
linen, pure and white," or "a vesture of gold, wrought
about with divers colours;" and that all other ritual
arrangements, in like manner, would be as nothing
in his eyes, in comparison of the truths obscured
or imperilled, and of the errors involved, on either
hand?
And what therefore I would earnestly desire that
the Church of God in this land might draw forth
from the present excitement and anxiety about ritual
is, a faithful comparison of herself, in point of doctrine
and practice, with the Apostolic and Primitive model.
There are greater things than these; "The life is
more than meat, and the body than raiment." And
while we are anxiously discussing whether the life of
eucharistic devotion is best fed through the eye
or the ear, or how its outward form should be
arrayed, it is only too sadly true, that that life
and that body are a prey to divers diseases, and
need medicine and restoratives, ere they are likely to
exhibit much real vigour, nourish and clothe them as
we will.
For the second time within our memory, a "vestment"
or "ritual" controversy has arisen among us.
The last time it was about "the surplice" in preaching,
as against the gown; and the "Prayer for the
Church Militant," as against the disuse of it. This
time it is about the more distinctive eucharistic vestments,
as against the surplice; and about a fuller ritual
as against a scantier one. Now the last contest was
simply a miserable one. I venture to call it so,
1st, because, handled as it was, there was no sort of
principle at stake in it, beyond that of assigning to
the sermon more nearly its due position and estimate
in the rite; and that of adding one more prayer—a
touching and valuable one, it is true—to the ordinary
Office;—and next, because it utterly misconceived
and missed the Church's real mind, in allowing such
a thing at all as prayers, or a service at the Altar or
Holy Table, when there was to be no Offering and no
Communion. To restore the Prayer for the Church
Militant, and be content with that, was indeed "to
keep the word of promise to her ear, and break it to
her hopes." Only as a protest, only as a badge of
her rejection—ay, and of Christ's rejection by the
world—had she ever condescended to such a Lord's
Day Service as that at all.
What was the result and upshot, as might have
been expected, of that contest? In the case of some
parishes, and almost whole dioceses, successful rebellion
against even the letter of the rubric; and in
places where the result was different, a contented
acquiescence ever since (for the most part) in the
victory achieved. Is it not evident that it was not
worth achieving? And why? Because all the while
the Church's real desire and aim was ignored; she
was not one whit nearer to the Apostolic rule,
but only proclaimed more distinctly her departure
from it.
And now that another "vestment" and "ritual"
controversy has arisen, the great anxiety, and the
only deep anxiety, of the Church should be, that it
too pass not over us barren of all results of value.
It will do so, if it only leaves us with a better ascertained
law as to the relative obligation of this or
that vestment, the lawfulness of this or that mode
of ritual. It will have been in vain, unless it brings
up our long-standing neglect on the one hand, and
brings back our more novel excesses on the other,
to the true standard of God's own providing. But
on the other hand, if haply, while we are searching
for a rule, we shall have found a principle, and
begun to act upon it then the present excitement will
have done a great work for us.
And happily, it is by thus lifting the existing
controversy into a higher sphere, we shall have the
best chance of reconciling and harmonising positions
now ranged over against each other, and even of
solving this ritual and vestment difficulty. For let
us suppose, on the one side—what it is not too much
to hope for—that the close sifting, both of doctrine
and ritual, which such a period as this gives rise to,
joined to the fatherly counsel of the Bishops, and
to considerations of Christian wisdom and charity,
should avail to remove such peculiarities of ritual as
are plainly either indefensible or inexpedient. And
let us suppose, on the other side—what surely
we may no less hope for—an earnest effort now
made by the clergy, encouraged by their bishops,
to return to the Apostolic usage of Weekly Celebration,
and in other ways to give due honour and
observance to the Holy Eucharist. Suppose this
done on either side: and there would at once result
a great and essential rapprochement between those
who now have the appearance of raising opposite
cries, and wearing rival badges.
Nor only so, but those badges themselves would
lose, to a great extent, their distinctive hues. It is
astonishing, when we come to look into the matter,
how much the two rival camps, so to call them,
have in common; and how many middle terms there
are on which they are agreed. The truth is that, as
has appeared above, there is between the vestments
(for example), now opposed to each other, an entire
"solidarity" or community of interests, arising out
of their common origin, and their close relation to each
other. The use of the surplice, its existence at all
as a ministerial vestment, and its real significance,
can only be traced in the eucharistic vestments. It
results from removing the chasuble and expanding
the alb. The surplice is in fact, an alb. It is an
adaptation of the inner eucharistic vestment to the
exigencies of the ordinary Office. It was thought
good, when it was used as an outer garment, to give
it that fulness and comeliness of form, for which the
English surplice, more especially, is so justly commended.
But its real value, as a memento of the
inward purity which it typifies, can only be apprehended
by bearing in mind that it is properly an
inner garment.—In like manner the stole, taken by
itself, is a mere band of ribbon of no particular
appropriateness. But let it symbolise, as it certainly
was meant to do, the yoke of loving labour laid on
the neck of the minister of Christ; or, more exactly,
after the Aaronic pattern, the ministerial toil of
heart and hand for Christ's people, and the mindful
bearing of them before God for acceptance through
the One Sacrifice; and we at once see that this
simple vestment is indeed worth preserving.—And let
the hood, or "amice," be no longer worn as a mere
badge of academical degree, but as a token of the
dedication of the powers of the head or intellect,
and of the need of God's protection against "vain,
perverse, and unbecoming thoughts;"[61] and this, too,
acquires a fitness otherwise difficult to recognise.
Now, if we thus owe to the full eucharistic vestments
the interpretation of our ordinary ones, it is plain
that the relations between the two are of the most
friendly character.
The stole, it may be added, rests solely on the rubric of
1662: so that, whereas it is commonly imagined that
the vestments of Edward VI. have now begun for
the first time to be re-introduced, and that by a very
few; the truth is that the vast majority of the
English clergy have now for many years, though
unconsciously, been acting upon the rubric which
enjoins them, and tacitly appealing to it.
So, again, the introduction of colour into our
vestments is only one step added to what has been
already carried out, to a great extent, by all of us,
in the rest of our sacred accessories, whether in the
way of stained glass, altar-cloths, hangings, or even
of books. And whereas, on the other hand, the pure
whiteness of the surplice is not among the least of
its attractions and sacred associations in English
eyes; who, it may be asked, have done more to
extend the use of the surplice among us, than those
who have advanced farthest in the ritual direction?
Who eliminated the "black gown" from the eucharistic
rite? Who else have flooded our choirs and aisles,
on festal occasions especially, with the white robes
of choristers and clergy? Nay, for the Holy Communion
itself, for the highest festivals—Christmas,
Easter, Whitsuntide—the white chasuble is, by the
ancient rule of England, added to the white alb.
Surely here, again, there is a community of sentiment
between ritual schools thought to be opposed
to each other. It may be added, that though the
strict English rule, or rather its full carrying out,
would necessitate colour—red for the most part—for
the chief eucharistic vestment, this is not by
any means of necessity. White, it is admitted
on all hands, is permissible all the year round,[62]
and some Eastern churches never use any other
colour.
And do we not seem to see, in these considerations,
joined to others alleged above, a ground for harmonious
though diverse action among those of differing
minds? We have, as the first and leading fact,
that (if the view taken above be correct) none is
compelled in foro conscientiæ, by the existing state of
the law to which he has bound himself (viz. "what
this Church and Realm hath received") to adopt
the ancient vestments. This gives room for the exercise
of that prudent consideration in the matter, which
would be out of place if the law gave no alternative.
We have next the fact that there are degrees, even
where it is desired to return to the ancient system.
The form is, as it should seem, the great matter, both
as regards symbolism, and as making a distinct
difference between the ordinary and the eucharistic
dress: the material and colour are secondary. Hence
arises a simple and unobtrusive mode of resuming
the old distinction, without risk of provoking serious
objection: eucharistic vestments of fine linen being
not very strikingly different in appearance from the
surplice; more especially if, as some hold, surplices
in place of tunics be allowable for the assistant
clergy.
And if many still entertain a distinct preference
for the surplice, none can say that, after 300 years
of recognition, it is other than a seemly and honourable
vestment, as an ad interim, even for the Holy
Communion. In one case only can it be said
to be a dishonour, and a badge of servitude under
the world's rejection,—viz., whenever there is no
celebration. It can then only be compared to the
linen garment in which the Jewish High Priest was
clothed of old on the one day of Atonement:—the
one day in the year on which Israel mourned over suspended
privileges and a desolated Altar.[63] It is when
the surplice ministers to so dreary a Service as that:—when,
as a fit accompaniment to it, the position of
the wearer, at the north end of the Holy Table,
indicates at least a forgetfulness of his priestly
functions:—it is then only that it can be otherwise
than honourable among us.
Nor in like manner, as has appeared above from
the venerable, because primitive and apostolic descent
of the eucharistic vestments, can any tinge of superstition
or unsound doctrine be properly ascribed to
them, unless it be through the fault of any in whose
persons they minister to eucharistic doctrines and
practices, which were unknown to Apostolic and
primitive days.
And there is yet one other hopeful feature in the
present aspect of things as regards Ritual. It is that,
taking the long tract of years, the desire for an improvement,
and for our acting up to the theory and
ideal of our Church in this matter, has begun, as it
ought, with the Episcopate: so that all present endeavours
in that direction, (whether in all respects
wisely or faithfully made I have given some reasons
for doubting), are intended at least to be a carrying
out of their fatherly counsels and admonitions. It is
now a quarter of a century since two of the ablest
and most influential Prelates that ever sat on an
episcopal throne in England, the late Bishop of
London and the present Bishop of Exeter, invited
the Clergy of their Dioceses to carry out the rubrics,
with especial reference to a particular rubric bearing
upon the dress of the Clergy in one part of their
ministrations. It was found impossible at the time,
owing to a strong feeling on the part of the laity
(which time has for the most part removed), to carry
out those injunctions. But their tones have vibrated
ever since in the hearts of the English Clergy. It
was felt at the time, as it must ever be felt, that our
aim, at least, should be to carry out the Church's best
and deepest mind, and not to acquiesce for generations
in a low standard, merely because it is the
existing one. And it is my humble belief that, had
the present attempt to return, in fuller measure, to her
deep and wise rules for eucharistic celebration been
made with more of moderation and considerateness,
it would have carried with it, (and may carry with it
yet, if these conditions be fulfilled), the assent of our
Right Reverend Fathers[64] in God on the one hand,
and of our congregations on the other. So managed,
the present might well become a grand and harmonious
movement of Bishops, Clergy, and people
towards a noble result,—the setting up, namely, in
its due place, of the highest ordinance of the Gospel:
with variations, indeed, in many respects, as to the
mode and fashion of administration; but with one
happy feature at any rate,—a nearer approximation,
both in Rites and Ritual, to Apostolic Doctrine and
Worship.