Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1888-04-28
Beautiful Churches.


Alvan f. Sanbom n American Magazine.
AS | was walking past st. Patrick's
in New York, the other
day with a friend, he said to me,
pointing to the partially completed
spires: "What's the use of wasting
so much money, trying to get those
things up high? They won't be of
any service after they are DONE"
A question like this brings to mind
the "alabaster box of very precious
ointment" and the murmurs of the
disciples; "To what purpose is this
waste?" Are beautiful churches a
waste? Perhaps so, from a strictly
economic view point, though of that
/ am not sure. Yet / am willing to
grant that there is no return in hard
money for these enormous OUTLAWS,
if admitting this will give our utilita-
friends any satisfaction. But it is
useless to attempt to strike money
balance in these matters. There is a
value in the massive mountain that
no book of valuation can recognize.
There is a value in the mighty cata-
ract that has nothing to do with water
power. So there is value in the
cathedral spire that is not computable
in coin. 1t is a spiritual value, if
you will, this value inherent in the
sublimely beautiful. | pass st. Pat
rick's every day, and there is alwayf
some one gazing up at those towers
that take the thoughts as well as the
eyes away from the rafting pave
ment. And so, in time, hundreds,
yes thousands, will oWs to those
"useless" towers some moments of
self forgetfulness, some moments of
that conscious spiritual uplifting,
which is, in proportion to its power,
to many a mound, to few a mount OF
TRANSPORTATION.
The most beautiful church | ever
SAVIOR ever expect to see, until /
worship in the "house not made with
hands"-is not full-grown church
it is only a chapel-a small low buid.
ing, put up at an expense of about
$1,000. 1t is beautiful, because the
cellar wall is a free-will offering from
farmers who had a right to claim q
winters rest after the busy harvest
season; because each timber of the
frame work represents hours of hare
toll in making aprons and holder;
by the sale of which to raise a few
dollars-hours needed for rest of some
mothers weary head and tiret
hands; because every clapboard tell
of a pipeful of tobacco less for thu
father, every shingle, a cup of tie,
less for the mother and the daughter
and every nail, stick of candy les
for the child. 1t is beautiful in con
tanning an organ, while there are n,
organs in the homes of the givers; il
having pictures on the walls, though
theirs are blank; in its carpetec
aisles, while the floors of the donor
are bare. But would this same chap
ell be beautiful if it were taken III
and set down in Fifth avenue? There
instead of a temple of self-sacrifce,
would appear an ugly, wooden box G
niggardliness. The noble churcI
architecture of fifth avenue represent
a certain amount of self-sacrific
somewhere, though it is very far,
fear, from attaining unto that of tn
people who built the little Dwight
chapel.
Don't be afraid of making God
house too beautiful. AS John Ru!
kin says: "The question is not bt
tween Gods house and his poor.
is not between Gods house and hi
gospel; it is between Gods hous
and ours. Have we no tesselate
cOlors on our floors, no niched statr
airy in our corridors, no gilded furn
ture in onr cabinets? Has even tn
1.-THE of these been offered ?" If int
the beauty of form and of color of oil
larger city churches could be injecte
the spirit of self-denial that built II
chapel in the little hill-town of Ma
= sachusetts, we would have templ
q everyway worthy of the most hig
;. God.
Fame comes only when deserve
and then it is as inevitable