1844, one of its aims was to 'preserve from demolition or decay · works of ancient times which still exist,' and the reports of the proceedings of the committee afford ample evidence of an almost universal neglect of monuments. Publicity unfortunately does not always act as a protection. Attention was drawn to the sepulchral brasses of Norfolk by Cotman's work, with the result that many of them were soon afterwards stolen, or disposed of by the churchwardens. The present, however, has so many instances of neglect to offer, that it is useless to quote hundreds from the past. To preserve an object is against trade interests. Canon Raine says, with justice, that he does not believe there are six architects in England who would not pull down York Minster, and profess to build up one as good, if not better, from their own designs. A Yorkshire magistrate, speaking three years ago, said that what he liked was the sort of scenery people could feel in their pockets, and the same view holds good in regard to art. What is the percentage, and what is the cash value of the improvement? are the only questions to be considered. Even the owners of monuments themselves rarely show the smallest interest in them, and it is left to a few clergymen, a very few architects, and a sprinkling of laymen, to work on behalf of their preservation. Watch a church in process of restoration. The patron is very likely an absentee, and knows nothing of what is going on. The clergyman has delegated his authority to the architect, the architect in turn to the clerk of the works, who throws the responsibility on the local mason, who carts out gravestones and monuments, roodscreens, slabs, brasses and fonts into any vacant corner he can find. Many of them are broken up, many taken away and sold, and when the church is again opened, the records of the forefathers of the hamlet are gone. An occasional complaint comes from the aggrieved descendant, which is treated with contempt, and it is probable that a diligent hunt will enable him to discover his ancestor's gravestone among the vicarage drains, or serving as a stile in a neighbouring field. No one who has not taken the trouble to inquire into them can conceive of the strange freaks of which parochial authorities are capable. In a Shropshire church a former vicar, before he erected a new font, buried the old one several feet deep in the earth as a foundation for the new monument to rest on. In another church the old Norman font was thrown aside into the belfry tower to make room for the modern production of an ecclesiastical upholsterer. The base was lost, but the remainder was removed to a place of safety and ultimately, on the representations of an aggrieved parishioner, reinstated in the church by the side of its vulgar successor. In another church a very fine alabaster monument did not fit into a restored recess, and four or five effigies of kneeling children were cut out by the Procrustean architect, and now lie in an outhouse. At Leintwardine the old oak 240 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. been pulled down, and one front and the top slab refixed on south wall, to effect which one of the triple sedilia was demolished.' It would be tedious further to enumerate the cases that are reported. There is no great difference between 1789 and 1886. The custodians of our national monuments require assistance. It will be, however, evident that a preservative society has a very uphill task. It has to war against the prejudices of the sexton and the immitis sapientia Grimthorpe. It must act with the greatest temper and tact and forbearance, greater even than that of Old Mortality, who only once gave way to violent passion when a mischievous truant boy defaced with a stone the nose of a cherub's face, which the old man was engaged in retouching. It receives little sympathy, has to proceed with caution, and to say to the clergyman, 'This church is a poor thing and your own; neither rural dean nor bishop may dispute your right to deal with it as you please. It is quite true that the side chapel would be more convenient as your vestry, and the recess is made for a chimney. That monument prevents your wife from overlooking your fourteen children who sit in the corner pew. Your eyesight is getting feebler and those lancet windows do not throw the light upon the reading-desk as could be wished. Those tiles in your chancel are only such as the nineteenth All century can produce, and no wonder that you want them down the wish done nave; but listen for one moment to our views. can be done in this manner.' It has to say to the architect, 'You have a European reputation, though you have never stirred from your It would be a blessing to the nation if Westminster county town. It would be a Abbey were burnt to the ground, so that you might be employed in rebuilding it. You should, however, reserve this design of a new roof and porch and vestry and rearrangement of the chancel and aisles for some occasion really worthy of your conceptions, and where they would be given free scope.' And it has to say to the squire, 'When we want good taste, we look for it in the patron of a country living. The suggested improvements will cost 2,000l.: 50l. have been promised, a bazaar will raise 200l.; your generosity, no doubt, though during this present year you will wish to subscribe towards the Imperial Institute and the Church House, will provide the remainder. Your conduct during this time of depression is noble in the extreme. It is proposed to remove the fine monument of Hugo de Brassey de Bulkeley, from whom, as you are aware, you are lineally descended; you will, we trust, give it a place in as dry a stable loft as you can.' you Unfortunately no society can exist and do good work without encouragement, and it is difficult to obtain it from an apathetic public. They are inclined to pass by on the other side and to say, Let the dead bury their dead and also look after their own monuments. The State has already too much upon its hands, and cannot add to its other irons the supervision of all that is interesting in art and archi |