Our Churches and Chapels - Atticus
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NEW JERUSALEM CHURCH.
De gustibus non est applies with as much force to religious as to
secular life. People's tastes will differ; you can no more account
for them in church-naming than in kissing or child-christening; and
that being so, let no pious piece of perfection dispute with the New
Jerusalem brethren as to their spiritual gustation. If a man were
virtuously inclined to pirate in his religious nomenclature the
oddities of old Carey, who coined that finely flowing word
"aldeborontiphoscophornio," which is only a line ahead of that other
stately polysyllable "chrononhotonthologos," why let him do so, for
somebody with more madness or wisdom than yourself will some day end
or mend him. Let every man have his "cogibundity of cogitation," and
let people suit themselves about the names of their churches.
Swedenborgians is the name commonly given to those who belong to
"the New Church signified by the New Jerusalem in the Revelation."
They might have cut it shorter to be sure; and they might have had a
less mystical but certainly not a cleverer man for their founder
than the Swedish Emanuel. No modern ever knew half so much, or knew
it so oddly, as Swedenborg; and no one ever wrote so immensely on
questions so varied and intractable. He knew something about
everything, from toe nails to the differential and integral
calculus, from iron smelting to star cycles, and in reading his
works you might almost fancy, so familiar does he appear to be with
spirits, that he had a quotidian nod from Michael and a daily "How
are you, old boy?" from Gabriel. Emerson does well when he puts him
down as the representative man of mystery; and when he calls him the
mastodon and missourian of literature, he will have the concurrence
of all unbiased scholars.
There are about 70 persons in Preston who care vitally for that
ideal Church which St. John saw in Patmos--if New Jerusalemism, as
delineated by the followers of Swedenborg, is its symbol. Only about
70 are connected as "members" with its physical temple in Avenham-
road. More may be in embryo; several maybe hanging on the skirts of
conviction, ready for a goodly plunge into reality; but that is the
number of mortals at present associated with the "New Church
signified by the New Jerusalem," in Preston. All of them are
earnest, the bulk are conscientious, and on that account entitled to
respect. About a quarter of a century ago, a few sincere
Swedenborgians met in an office down Cannon-street, which is now
used as a gilding room by a modern Revivalist. They pushed "the
cause" with a fair amount of energy, and increased, though by slow
degrees, the number of their members. During the period of their
spiritual exercises here, the late Mr. Hugh Becconsall, a calm,
benevolent-hearted man, got associated with them, and this was the
means of bringing into fuller life the principles of Swedenborg in
Preston. Mr. Becconsall's thoughts were quickened and changed by
them; he became a devoted and sincere believer in the new Church;
attended its meetings in Cannon-street; was impressed with the idea
that better accomodation was required for them; and finally decided
to build out of his own pocket, and endow from the same source, a
new church in Avenham-road. It was estimated that the cost of the
church would be 1000 pounds, which Mr. Becconsall willingly agreed
to pay; but religion has no aegis against "extras"--they will creep
in, are irrepressible; and, in accordance with this fatal
philosophy, the church in Avenham-road cost in the end nearly 2000
pounds, which he paid without even grumbling--a privilege all
Englishmen have the right to exercise freely after they have paid
the piper well. The foundation stone was laid in 1843, very soon
after which the Rev. James Bonwell, curate of Trinity Church,
Preston, made a virulent attack upon Swedenborgianism and its
followers. This gentleman, who was subsequently unrobed for
immorality, charged both the ministers of the New Church party and
all who listened to them, with the rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and
Abiram, and uttered language implying a wish that the earth would
open its mouth and swallow them up. The Rev. Augustus Clissold,
M.A., formerly collegian at Oxford, who is the only profound scholar
in England belonging to the New Church sect, ably answered him.
There are many smart polemics but very few great scholars in the
sect referred to. Twenty-five years ago New Jerusalem Church, in
Avenham-road, was opened, and the believers in it increased for some
time afterwards. Anything new is fashionable, and a new church
always gives an impetus to the number of its worshipers. Those
assembling at the church created much curiosity, and not a little
cynical criticism, at first. They even do so now. Ordinarily
orthodox people look down censoriously upon believers in "the New
Jerusalem," and class them as a mysterious, visionary sect of
religionists, given up to dreams, pious eccentricity, and self-
righteousness. But they have, like other individuals, a reason for
their belief; if it is madness there is method in it; and they are
prepared to "argue the point," and make a respectable disturbance if
their creed is assailed.
We shall not criticise their belief--neither praise nor condemn it--
but just give its chief points for the benefit of unknowing ones.
Here they are: they believe in a trinity, not of persons but
essentials--love, wisdom, and power; they do not believe in the
doctrine of faith alone, but of faith conjoined with good works;
they do not believe in a vicarious atonement, but in a
reconciliation of man to God; they don't believe in a resurrection
of the material body, but a resuscitation of the spirit immediately
after physical death; they don't believe in a physical destruction
of the world by fire, but think that the world as it is now created
will continue to exist--for ever; they have no faith in the Noachian
deluge, and say that the sacred record of it refers to an inundation
of evil and not of water; finally they believe that there will be
marriages in heaven,--not wedding ring unions, not kissing,
courting, and quarrelling amalgamations, but conjunctions of
goodness with truth; and they have further an idea that there will
be "prolifications" in heaven, not of crying children with passions
for sucking bottles and sugar teats, but of truth and goodness.
Swedenborg, by whom they swear, believed in three heavens and three
hells; they have a similar idea, and fancy that common place
sinners, who think one heaven will meet all their requirements, and
that one hell will be too much for their nerves, are wrong.
New Jerusalem Church, in Preston, has a Sunday school beneath it--a
place obtained partly on the celestial and partly on the Irish
principle--by heightening the roof and lowering the foundations. The
school is pretty well managed; but its scholars are not numerous;
they number between 60 and 70, and there is no immediate prospect of
an increase. The endowment of the late Mr. Hugh Becconsall realises
100 pounds a-year for the minister--the Rev. E. D. Rendell, who has
been at the church ever since its opening; and the investment of a
sum of money by the late Mr. John Becconsall, of Ashton, who was a
great believer in Swedenborgianism, brings in on his behalf 50
pounds more. The minister once had a "call" to Accrington, where the
doctrines of the New Church obtain a very large number of admirers,
and in consequence of that call, which necessarily implied a better
salary, as well as a wider sphere of action, five 10 pounds notes
were added to his stipend here. He was appeased by those said notes.
Mr. Rendell also lives rent free in a house adjoining and belonging
to the church. Its situation renders the house very convenient; but
a position more distant would not have been very harrowing if
freedom from rent had accompanied its tenancy.
The Church is built of stone, and has a neat appearance, but the
approach to it is not very good. You have to mount a small flight of
steps to get to it, and their gradient is so acute that if you
should fall on them you would never proceed onward, nor lie still,
but wend your way in a rolling manner to the bottom. Internally the
church is one of the prettiest in Preston. It is not large; we don't
suppose it will accommodate more than about 250; but it is
peculiarly neat and pleasing. The walls are painted and slightly
ornamented; the windows are toned a little and bordered with
elegant, well-finished designs; the chancel is fronted with a gothic
arch painted in marble pattern and edged with gold; beyond there is
a circular window, stained in bright colours. At each end there is a
gallery--one which apparently contains nothing, whilst the other is
devoted to the choir. At one side of the chancel arch there is a
reading desk, which looks piously at a pulpit, made just like it, on
the opposite side. Few churches have windows in the roof; but this
has about four--at least they are circular lights, and, in
conjunction with the side windows, make the place very bright and
cheerful. At the bass of the chancel, beneath the gallery, and
behind the communion table, there are several paintings, some, if
not all, of which were executed by the minister, who has rather
vivid artistic conceptions. In the centre there is an open Bible,
and on each side the Decalogue, or something to that effect, for the
letters, although in gold, can't be seen very clearly at a distance.
Flanking these are sacred figures, which are too small to be
attractive at a greater distance than six yards. But in their
aggregate the representations look well, and they give a good finish
to the chancel. The seats are of various sizes; some will hold three
persons, others four, and a few about six.
The church is not well attended; hardly half of it is occupied
except upon special occasions. At present it appears to be a little
better patronised than formerly; but even now the congregation is
comparatively thin, and there will be no necessity for some time to
do anything in the shape of enlarging the building. If anything is
effected in this way during the present century one of two things
will certainly have to happen--either three times as many as those
now attending it will have to solicit admission, or those actually
visiting it will have to grow three times as stout in their
physiology. They are a quiet, pious-looking class of people who
frequent the church. They may, like their great apostle, have
seasons of inner rapture, and like him revel in the mysteries of the
Arcana Coelestia, but if so they keep the thing very subdued. They
never scream nor shout about anything, and would refuse to do so if
you asked them. Many of them are elderly people, with decorous
countenances; all of them, whether old or young, believe in good
suits; very few of them are wealthy; none of them seem very poor.
Calmness, with a disposition to find you a seat any time, and
provide you with books, characterises them. They have fixed
services, embracing prayers, lessons, psalms, hymns, and chants.
They have an excellent organ, which was given to the place by Mrs.
Becconsall; and their music is "ever so fair." Their services, on
Sundays, are held in the morning and evening, and they can get to
the latter much easier and in much better time than to the former.
Once a month there is an afternoon instead of an evening service,
the minister having to officiate for a few of the followers of
Swedenborg at Blackburn, who can't afford to pay, or won't get, or
don't want, a regular expounder of their views. Mr. Rendell is a
rather learnedly-solemn kind of gentleman. Originally he was a
painter; but he had a greater passion for polemics than brushes, and
was eventually recommended to, and admitted into "the Church" as a
minister. He reads the scriptures and prays in black kid cloves, but
he shows the natural colour of his hands when preaching. While
conducting the preliminary service he wears a white surplice; in the
pulpit he has a black gown. He looks very sacerdotal, coldly-
clerical, singularly-sad in each place. His voice is deep toned and
has a melancholy authoritative ring in it. He is fond of making
critical allusions in his sermons; and is rather lengthy in his
talk. Some of the old Puritans used to get to a "nineteenthly point"
in their discourses, but Mr. Rendell has not reached that numeric
climax. He can occasionally get to a fifth point, and then subdivide
it, before giving that final "word of advice" which parsons are so
enamoured of; but he never branches out beyond this stage. His style
of preaching is easy; but it is very solemn. Occasionally he pushes
a little Latin into his discourses and at intervals be graces them
with morsels of Greek. He can be practical sometimes; can say a wise
and generous thing at intervals; but he is often very mysterious,
and has a large reverence for that which very few people can get at-
-"the spiritual sense." Mr. Rendell is an author as well as a
preacher; he has dived into anti-diluvian history, and has tried to
bring up mystic treasures from the post-diluvian period.
Furthermore, he has written a prize essay on "The Last Judgment."
And in addition to everything he is the editor of "The Juvenile
Magazine;" but the salary is only poor. Still he may console himself
with the thought that he gets as much for his annual services on
behalf of modern juveniles as Milton did for his Paradise Lost on
behalf of all posterity--a clear 5 pounds note. He has a sharp eye
in his head, and there is an aristocratic reverentialness in his
look. Learned he is in some things; but we are afraid he is too
profound and sad. He has a good analytical faculty, and is a very
fair polemical writer; but he is very solemn in tone--very serious,
too wise-looking, and phlegmatic. His style of speaking has the ring
of earnestness in it; and his delivery is accompanied with a
tolerable amount of activity. If he were a little more buoyant, if
he could put on a less learned and more cheerful look, and would not
got so very grave in his style, he would be better relished.
Polemically, he has done fair service for the denomination to which
he belongs--done it sometimes in spite of Lily, and Linacre, and
their descendants; and if he is not immaculate, he has at least the
satisfaction of knowing that nobody else is, and never will be until
they reach the real New Jerusalem.
TRINITY CHURCH.
In a part of the town pre-eminently dim, intricate, and populous
stands "The Church of the Holy Trinity." Father Time and the smoke
of twice five hundred chimneys have darkened its fabric, and
transmuted its chiselled stone walls into a dull pile of masonry.
But it is a beautiful church for all that. If the exterior has been
carbonised and begrimed, the interior has enjoyed a charmed life,
and is apparently as young today as it was on "Friday, the eighth of
December, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and
fifteen," when "George H. Chester" consecrated the building and all
thereunto belonging. The first stone of this church was laid on the
4th of June, 1814--the natal anniversary of George III--by Sir Henry
Philip Hoghton, of Hoghton, the lay rector and patron of the parish
of Preston. Under that first stone there were deposited a number of
coins, two scrolls, and one newspaper--the Preston Chronicle. The
first minister of Trinity Church was the Rev. Edward Law, a
gentleman, who, according to a local historian, "ably defended the
belief of the adorable Trinity in a series of letters, assisted by
the Rev. R. Baxter, of Stonyhurst, against a Unitarian minister, the
Rev. T. C. Holland, which appeared in the Preston Chronicle," and
were subsequently reprinted and sold for the enlightenment and
mystification of all polemically-minded men. Trinity Church is built
on a plot of ground once called Patten Field. Moderns know little,
if anything, of that field; but Patten-street--a delicious
thoroughfare proximately fronting the church--still remains as a
lingering topographical reminder of olden days. There were few
houses in the region of Patten Field when Trinity Church was built:
pastures were its colleagues, and patches of greensward its regular
companions. But things have changed since then, and a mile of
houses, stretching northward, and westward, and eastward now fills
up the ancient hiatus. Trinity Church cost 9,080 pounds 9s. 3d., and
that sum was raised partly by subscriptions and donations and partly
by the sale of pews. Who gave the ultimate threepence we cannot
tell, neither are we told in what way it was expended.
The architecture of the building is Gothic. There is nothing very
striking about the exterior; indeed it looks cold, and sad, and
forsaken, and its associations don't improve it. The church is built
upon a hill, and, therefore, can't be hid. Its approaches may have
been good at one time; its environs may have been aristocratic and
healthy in 1814, but they are not so now. Smoky workshops, old
buildings, with the windows awfully smashed in, houses given up to
"lodgings for travellers here," densely packed dingy cottages, and
the tower of a wind mill, which for years nobody has been willing to
either mend or pull down, are its architectural concomitants. The
approaches to the church are varied and aggravatingly awkward. You
can get to the church from any point of the compass, but access to
it may mean anything--perhaps, a wandering up courts and passages, a
turning round the corners of old narrow streets, an unsavoury
acquaintance with the regions of trampery, and an uncomfortable
perambulation along corn-torturing causeways and clumsily paved
roads. Pigeon flyers, dog fanciers, gossipping vagrants, crying
children, old iron, stray hens, women with a passion for sitting on
door steps, men looking at nothing with their hands in their
pockets, ancient rags pushed into broken windows, and the mirage of
perhaps one policeman on duty constitute the sights in the
neighbourhood. The church-yard, which contains several substantial
tombs and monuments, is in a decent state of preservation. It looks
grave as all such places must do; but it is kept in order, and men
of the Hervey type of mind might meditate very beneficially amongst
its tombs. Trinity may not be the longest, but it is certainly about
the widest, church in the town. It is neither a high nor a low, but
an absolutely broad church.
Internally it is excellent. On entering the place you are perfectly
surprised at its capaciousness. Nothing cramped, nothing showy,
nothing dim, grim, nor shabby-genteel enters into its proportions.
It is finely expansive, airy, light, and well made. Goodness of
build without gaudiness, sanctity without sadness, and evenness of
finish without new-fangled intricacy, pervade it. It is fit for
either beggars or plutocrats. There is not a better, not a plainer,
neater, nor more respectable looking church in the town. And there
is not a cleaner. Some of our churches have for years been
cultivating a close and irreligious acquaintance with dirt--with
dust, cobwebs, mould, and other ancient kinds of mild nastiness; but
Trinity Church is a model of cleanliness. Everything in it seems
clean--the windows, pews, cushions, mats, floors, &c., are all
clean; there is even an air of cleanliness about the sweeping
brushes and the venerable dust bin. The church has accomodation for
about 1,400 persons of ordinary proportions. The seats are
constructed on comfortable principles, and that very traditional
article--green baize--plays an important and goodly part in them. At
the top and bottom of the middle range, on the ground floor, the
seats are of various shapes--some narrow, some broad, a few oblong,
and others inclining to the orthodox square. The central ones are
regular, and so are those at the sides. In the galleries there is a
slight irregularity of shape in the seats; but they are all
substantial, and the bulk easy. There are 46 free pews or benches in
the church. They run along the sides on the ground floor, and will
accommodate nearly 280 persons. All the other seats, excepting about
two, were sold to various parties at the time the church was opened-
-not for any fixed price all round, but for just as much as the
trustees could get. Many were bought by high-class local families,
and the names of several of the original and present proprietors--
inscribed on small brass plates--may now be seen on the front sides.
Fifty of the pews have ground rents, amounting respectively to 1
pounds a year, attached to them. Several of the pews are let, the
owners caring little for them, or having removed to other towns;
many have been re-sold at intervals; and three have been forfeited
through their proprietors having neglected to pay certain trifling
rates laid upon them. The pews have deteriorated much in price. Once
upon a time, when nearly all the fashionable families of Preston
went to Trinity Church, neither Platonic love nor current coin could
secure a pew. It was a la mode in its most respectable sense, it was
Sabbatical ton in its genteelest form, to have and to hold a pew at
Holy Trinity when George the Third was king. And for a considerable
period afterwards this continued to be the case. The "exact thing"
on a Sunday in Preston, 40 nay 20 years ago, was to own a pew at
Trinity Church, to walk up to it, and to sit therein: it was
superior to every modern process, and beat "Walking in the Zoo" and
all that species of delightful work hollow. Pews were then worth
something; they are now worth little. Only the other week a pew,
originally bought for about 70 pounds, was sold by auction for 8
pounds! And it is said that some proprietors would not be very
unwilling to give a pew or two now, if nicely asked, just to get out
of the ratepaying clauses.
Trinity Church has a plain, yet pleasing, chancel. It is neat and
good, simple yet well-proportioned and elegant. The chancel window
is but sparingly stained; still it has a tasteful and rather stately
appearance. Amber is the most prominent colour in it, and loyalty
the principal virtue represented on it. There are a few small
emblematic-looking characters towards the base, which few can make
out; but everybody can see and understand the rather large English
outburst of loyalty surmounting the window. The display consists of
the Royal arms, well and broadly defined, with a crown above them,
and a lion above all. This speaks well for the lion, which ought to
be satisfied. Plain Gothic-bordered tablets, with a central
monogram, occupy the wall below the window. They have a good effect,
and give a somewhat artistic richness to the chancel. Within and at
each end of the communion rails there is a fine old oak chair. Both
are beautifully carved and are valuable. The reading-desk and the
pulpit are placed opposite each other, and at the sides of the
chancel. They are very tall, but altitude rather improves than
diminishes their appearance. They are well made, are fashioned of
dark oak, and have carved Gothic canopies. We have seen nothing so
tall nor so respectable-looking in the arena of virtuous rostrumdom
for a long period. On each side of the pulpit-desk there is a small
circular hole, and those said holes have a history. "What are they
used for?" said we one day, whilst in the pulpit, to a friend near
us. "For?" said the sagacious party, "they are for nothing;" and
then followed a history which we thus summarise for the benefit of
parsons in general:- A few years ago a gentleman with a red-hot dash
of Hibernian blood in his veins was the curate here. When he came,
the stands of two gas lights were fixed in the holes named; but one
Sunday, when wilder than usual, he gave the bottom of the right-hand
stand a vehement beating, smashed his ring in the encounter, and
frightened the incumbent, who, being apprehensive as to the fate of
the two stands and their globes, had them shifted further back and
more out of the curate's reach. They were in imminent peril every
minute, and a change was really necessary.
Not many years ago--plenty of people can remember it--the
congregation of Trinity Church was both large and influential. The
elements of influence and the representatives of wealth may still be
seen in it; but few and far between are the worshippers. Pews may be
owned, seats may be taken, few sittings may be to let, but where are
the worshippers? What a pity it is, that a church of proportions so
goodly, an edifice with accomodation so capacious, a building with
arrangements so substantial and excellent should be deserted in a
manner so absolute? A screw of large dimensions is loose somewhere.
The population of the district seems great--dense; many of the
people round about the church stand singularly in need of entire
acres of virtue, some of them are thorough-going heathens, and think
heathenism a rather jolly thing at times. And yet this most
excellent church is comparatively empty--desolate--reminding one
painfully of Ossian's picture of Balclutha's walls. The congregation
of Trinity Church is better than it was a few years ago, but it is
still lamentably, small. There is often "a beggarly account of empty
boxes"--a great deal of nothing in the church, and how to remedy
this defect is a problem. The present congregation consists of a
very moderate number of middle class people, a few elderly well-to-
do individuals, a thin scattering of poor folk, and a small body of
Sunday school scholars. The Recorder of Preston, who has been
connected with the management of the church since the time it was
opened, attends regularly when health permits: Trinity Church is,
of course, in the hands of trustees, and as people of an inquiring
turn of mind sometimes wonder who they are we will give their names.
Here are the trustees: Mr. T. B. Addison, Mr. John Cooper, Mr.
Thos. Walmsley, Mr. John Swainson, Mr. John Bickerstaffe, Mr. Thomas
Houlker, and Mr. Isaac Gate. The present churchwardens are Mr. W.
Fort and Mr. W. H. Smith, and they have discharged their duties--
looked after the church, kept it clean, preserved its order--in
thoroughly commendable style. Testimonials are due for their
services.