The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1872-04-21

eau DEAR any C6eG OF cflLlC8l 6cTuUuSS oScu III
the full blaze Of our nineteenth century en-
ligbtenment.
Will our architecturallegacies appear as well
in the eyes Of future generationsf
"Why, look around you" said to me Flem-
ish artist sin those days the erection OF e
costly edifice was not handed over to mere
mechanics. The body of it was intrusted TO
architects. Sculptors created it's woodwork.
Carvers executed what is now turned out by
machinery; painters give you pictures where
You now get plaster, and the Benvenuto Gel
in metals which to-day the blacksmith ham
mers ont at his forge. All! that was the
golden age of artists, when the puip'ts, the
affairs. the stalls, and tue organ-lGtts were
tables were poems in wood when the family
gOblets, the mere handle of a poiSnard OF
sword were chased and embellished; when ex.
quisite miniatures, illuminated mlssais, ana
wood engravinss, made picture-gallery OF
the dryest chronicle; when fresco and en-
caustic decorate ed the walls and floors; when
windows were bright with stained glass !;
when, in short, all the arts brought their
tribute of beauty to church or to palace.
1t was in the fading twilight of these artistic
glories that sculpture in wood still hourlshed
among the artists of ancient Flanders"
Somewhat thus discoursed to me an enthusi-
astic young Belgian painter, as we stood to
gether ad,niring that grand work of art, the
carved oak pulpit in the cathedral Of st. Gu
dule, at Brussels. :.
This pulpit is work to which the term
unique may be applied with scrupulous
fidelity.
The admiration drawn from you by sculp-
lures in wood elsewhere eliminates IN pres
ence of this singular creation of genius No
render it justice. In its exquisite architec-
ture and sculpture, poem as grand as that
of Milton is spread out before YOU, =,
An outline, only, the merest outline, can be
Adam and Eve apparently sustain the ter
restrial globe. An angel chases them from
Paradise, and Death pnrsues them. Tho life
size figure of Adam, in particular, is admirable
Carved in marble, it would have been some
thing for Canova to have been proud Of The
preacher stands in the concavity of the globe,
which is overshadowed by the branches OF the
tree of good and evil, covered with birds and
animals characteristically grouped. By the
side of Adam is an eagle; on that of Eve, u
peacock and a squirrel.
upheld by two angels and female figure
symbolical of truth. Above stands the
Blessed Virgin with infant Saviour, who,
with a cross in his hand, brushes the head of
the Serpant, whose hideous body, in huge
folds, twines around tue tree.
"Ths pulpit was made" said, or rather
sang, to me. the old gray-haired sexton or
lions of the cathedral for more than thirty
years This pulpit was made by Verbruggep,
of Antwerp, in 1869, for the Jesuits of Lou
vain. Upon the suppression of their order, it
was presented to this cathedral by the Empress
Maria Theresa. This pulpit"
Here interrupted him with questions as to
Verbruggen-what was known of himf and so
on, to the end of the chapter. All in vain;
could obtain nothing but negative shake Of
The head, and hint that it was time to close
the cathedral doors.
My stay in Brussels was prolonged many
weeks; and besides my attendance on Sun
days, frequently, in my rambes between the
grand park and what Mrs. Major Old ,wd calls
the Marchy Ofures, strayed into ST. Gudule to
admire the finest specimens of stained glass in
the world; to read the Inscriptions the
tombs of the Dukes of Brabant, and to feast
my eyes and Imagination on the grand old
pulpit.
| In the course of these visits became better
acquainted with the bedeau in charge, and
after some persuasion and few well-timed
attentions, the old man at last acknowledged
| to me that there was something more than
mere names and dates connected with the his
| tory Of the pulpit.
was not an Englisbmau, aud would not write
| q book and put him and the pulpit therein, he
promised to tell me all he knew about it.
Accordingly, by arrangement with him, I
vespers until the faithful had finished their
devotions and left the church.
Taking a couple of rush-bottom chairs from
one of the hinge pyramids of them piled up at
the lover end of the building, we seated our
selves Just outside the grand portal, and the
old man began mis- recital Years have since
gone by, and 1 cannot repeat it in his quaint
manner; bnt, substantially, he thus told me
the story of the carved oak pulpit.
Henry Verbruggen was heart and soul an
artist. Gay, careless, pleasure-loving, he ap-
peared to live but for two things; his art, first,
and then his amusements.
Nerbruggen married Martha Van Meeren,
the pretty, the timid, the good Martha Van
Meeren. In the mirage of his artists enthusi-
asm her sweetness, her grace, her beauty,
made her at first appear to him sylph, a
muse, an angel.
Alas! though gentle and attractive. Martha
| was, after all, ouly woman of the earth,
earthly. In quiet, well-ordered household
| Martha would have been q treasure; but in
| the eccentric home of the artist she was out OF
her element.
pattern of neatness and economy, an act
complshed Flemish housewife, a neat domicil
and Widespread table possessed for Martha
more attraction than the imaginary world of
beauty in which her artist husband revealed
even when poverty threatened or want op.
pressed them. Poor Martha! In vain she re-
monstrated; in vain she implored. Henry
would neglect his work he would be idle and
| spend his days at the cabaret in the society OF
those who were even more idle and more dis
solute than himself.
Thus years went on. Martha was not
happy. A tinge of moroseness shaded the
clear sunshine of her usual mildness. Occa
sonally, too, she came out of her quiet sad
ness and found sharp words of reproof fol
Henry, and anger for the companions who
kent him from home. And SO it came abont