510 the ceiling, and bosses, of a light stone color. The enriched cap forms a beautiful point, from which the chandeliers are suspended. The arrangement of the main audience-room will be understood by consulting the accompanying plan, as explained by the following references : A. Copy of the Decalogue. D. Pulpit and Platform. F. Choir. G. Pew for Pastor's Family. H. Reading-Desk. 1. Baptismal Font. J. Pastor's Room or Vestry. K. Heating Registers. L. Entrances to Gallery. M. Landings from Vestibule. PULPIT. THE pulpit platform is about three feet high, and is furnished with a small oak table, supported by four octagon pillars, with ornate carving on three sides, and open carved work between the columns, thus exposing the person of the speaker. The table has a pulpit board, covered with crimson velvet. PLAN OF THE MAIN AUDIENCE-ROOM. The corner allotted to the choir and surmounted with panels of open trelliswork, Gothic points, &c. On the right of the speaker a reading-key-desk is inclosed with a railing of oak, desk is placed, at which the opening and concluding services are conducted. This is something new for a Methodist church -a "reading-desk" distinct from the pulpit. The font may be seen on the left. The pulpit is entered by stairs from the lecture-room, and also from the vestry. 'ALTAR. A HEAVY oak rail, resting upon enriched open work, extends the whole length in front of the platform. To the right and left of the platform, on the wall, are two niches, one containing the Decalogue, and the other the Hundredth Psalm and the Lord's Prayer. These niches are finished with relieved carving of a high order, in keeping with the style of the organ-case, which stands between them. PEWS. THE рews (of which there are one hundred and thirty-seven) are of oak, varnished on the wood. The doors and tops of the ends are of entailed carved work, champered panels, with black walnut numbers on the doors. pews vary in design for each aisle, and The ends of the the pews are cushioned uniformly with crimson damask. The aisles and altar are furnished with Brussels carpet, and the vestibule and stairs with cord matting. rented. The preceding ground-plan shows The pews are partly sold and partly the estimated price of each pew, and the annual assessment upon it for current METHODIST CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. The church will seat about expenses. twelve hundred persons, and all parts are eligible both for seeing and hearing. THE windows are all filled with stained glass of the most beautiful design and tints. The heads of the windows are especially admired. A very pleasant effect is produced by each window being varied in tint and design. The rose window back of the pulpit platform is regarded as a gem of art, and adds much to the general effect of that end of the house. The glass was made by Mr. GIBSON, of Philadelphia. Standing in the middle aisle and turning toward the front, the large stained glass front window is directly in view. It is twelve by twenty-five feet, and is divided by three stone mullions and a tranThe head is composed of segments of a rose window, forming a most beautiful design. There are six scriptural emblems in the stained glass in different parts of the window. som. GAS FIXTURES. THE house is lighted by eight chandeliers, which were designed expressly to harmonize with the general design and finish of the building. The burners of the chandeliers, and of the lights on the pulpit platform, are furnished with ground glass shades. HEAT. THE rooms are heated by three furnaces in the cellar. The warm air is conducted through tin tubes, built in the side-walls, which open by registers in different parts of the building—one in each class-room, two in the lecture-room, two in the vestibule, and four in the audience-room. VENTILATION. THIS is effected from the highest point in the ceiling by means of five large registers, opening into a tube four feet in diameter, which extends the whole length of the loft, and terminates in the tower. A slide door is arranged over this opening, which can be opened or closed, as the temperature of the church may require. THE ORGAN. THE organ of this church is of a novel construction, or at least is placed in a novel position. It occupies a large arched recess behind the pulpit, and upon the pulpit platform; while the key-board is in the corner on the right of the speaker, where the choir are seated. The entire work of the trackers, draw-stops, rods, pedals, &c., extends horizontally beneath the floor of the platform, turn an angle under the pulpit, and thence into the organ -a distance of some forty feet from the key-desk; and yet the touch of the keys is said to be perfectly easy, and all under full control of the organist. THE BELL Is located in the third section of the tower, in which are seen the eight Gothic window-frames, furnished with blinds only, thus giving egress to the sound in all directions. It weighs about three thousand pounds, and cost one thousand dollars. WESLEYAN AND CATHOLIC. Ir the reader will turn back and scan the engraving closely, he will discover two small human faces, one on each side of the large central window in front, near the top. In the cut they are not larger than the smallest pin's-head. They are of stone, and constitute the corbel heads upon which the hood moldings of the window rest. These are the faces of John and Charles Wesley-John on the left, as seen from without, and Charles on the right. In the cut they look very full-faced, and exactly alike, as they are too small to admit of a likeness; but in the building they answer well to the originals, as shown in our steel engravings. There is an incident connected with the sculpturing of these heads. In order to get a tolerable likeness, it was necessary first to have plaster models made after the steel engravings, and cut the stone after the models. But to model a likeness in plaster from a steel engraving is no easy task. Bishop O'Conner, the papal bishop of Pittsburgh, is building a huge cathedral in the city, and had an Italian artist in his employ casting plaster models for it. Our trustees there could do no better than to get this artist to model the Wesleys for them, By the way, is it expedient to adorn our churches with sculptured heads of the Wesleys, or any other great and good men? Does it not savor a little of canonization, and seem to countenance what, as a people, we heartily abominate. The Wesleys were but men, whom God employed as instruments in the revival of Scriptural Christianity in the earth; and while we retain their spirit and zeal, and are true to our mission as a body of evangelical believers, the triumphs of the pure Gospel will be their memorial. They need no other monuments to their memory. building-committees are not likely to talk about. We only wish we knew all the faults of the Pittsburgh church-they should go in just here as a sort of "thorn in the flesh," lest our Pittsburgh brethren should be "exalted above measure." And if any of the parties concerned will send us an honest and full list of all the errors they have committed, (we do not mean personal and private sins, as the list might be a very long one, but) official and architectural, we will insert it in the next NATIONAL pro bono publico. With such a church-edifice to vindicate their reputation, they can well afford to own up to a respectable list of blunders, especially if they could do so with a good conscience. The whole cost of this church and furni ture was only $37,000. We are now nearly through with preliminaries, and have given elevations, plans, and descriptions of two model churches. We trust they may entertain the readers of the NATIONAL, and be useful to boards of trustees and others contemplating the erection of a church. The samples given are too expensive for most societies, and may not suit all on account of their ornamental style, spires, &c.; and yet we see not how they can offend either good taste or piety. We gave these two first simply because the drawings were obtained first, and were, consequently, engraved first. It is our purpose, in future numbers, to present views of several low-priced churches, that may be taken as models in country villages; also several other costly churches of different styles from those here presented. Among those under consideration, we may enumerate one in Philadelphia; one in Washington, D. C.; one in Rochester; one in Newark, Wayne Co., N. Y.; one in Bath, Me. ; one in Adams, Jeff. Co., N. Y.; one in Hempstead, L. I.; one in Troy, N. Y.; one in South Butler, N. Y.; one in Newark, N. J.; one in Brooklyn, N. Y.; two in New-York city; one in Bating the few slight criticisms thus freely indulged, we regard "Christ's Church, Pittsburgh,” as a model Methodist | church. Its style is chaste and beautiful, its material good and substantial, and its location fine. It is well arranged for all our social and public means of grace, and for congregational singing. It is scientifically warmed and ventilated, and well lighted. The style of the tower has been criticised by some who have seen only the lithograph; but even that looks better and better the more it is studied, and the original looks better than the picture. Indeed, we see not how the structure could have been improved, on the whole, except by building the sides and rear of stone, uniform with the front, instead of brick. The reading-New-Haven, Conn.; one in Providence, desk and heads of the Wesleys are matters of taste of but little consequence in the midst of so many excellences. Doubtless the church has some defects; for who ever built a public or private edifice that he could not improve upon in some particular? These defects and mistakes are not usually seen at a glance, and they are precisely what architects, and builders, and R. I., &c. We may not insert all these, and may insert others not enumerated; and yet, costly as the engravings are, and difficult as it is to get the designs and statistics, we propose (with the good leave of the editor and book agents) to have engrav ings of many of the best Methodist churches in the land in the next volume of the NA TIONAL. [For the National Magazine.] A HORSE-RACE ON SUNDAY. the little village of Netherlandville, which gave its name to what was called a six weeks' circuit, horse-flesh was held in high estimation. Indeed, through all the region round about a good horse was a desideratum most eagerly coveted. It was said, too, although this was probably straining the truth a little, that church-members were wont to graduate the claims of their minister to respect and quarterage by the good or bad qualities of his horse. If he came among them mounted upon an indifferent-looking nag, they jumped at once to the conclusion that he must be an indifferent preacher. Sound divinity, it was surmised, could not be carried upon the back of an unsound quadruped. The heaves of the one, it was thought, must affect the elocution of the other; a windgall on the fetlock-joint was an evil omen, and a spavined steed betokened a lame theologian. Great, therefore, was the satisfaction of the leading members, who were standing about the church door one beautiful Sunday morning in the month of August, when the new minister made his appearance. They knew nothing of him but his name; but now they had an opportunity to see him, to shake him cordially by the hand, and to gaze upon one of the most perfect specimens of horse-flesh their eyes had ever beheld. In truth, he was a magnificent brute; his hide black and glossy; his eyes prominent and full of fire, and his nostrils dilated, like those described by Job in the expressive line "The glory of his nostrils is terrible!" The introductory gratulations being over, and the steed properly secured in the shade of a wide-spreading oak, we all proceeded to the house of prayer. I remember little of the service, nothing at all of the sermon; but the congregation appeared to listen to the new speaker with most complacent attention. It was a goodly sight to see the new minister mount Abdallah, for that was the name of our new equestrian acquaintance; and he started off to Kroutdale, where he had an appointment at one o'clock, to the admiration not only of us youngsters, but of our venerable progenitors. But that was a memorable ride for the preacher. Like the renowned John Gilpin, VOL. VII.-35 "He little thought, when he began, and that, too, on the Sabbath, and between the conclusion of one sermon and the beginning of another. It happened on this wise: Abdallah, with his clerical burden, had cantered off, gently and gracefully, some two or three hundred yards, when Hans Dunderspeiken took it into his head to follow him. Now Hans was a strapping, six-foot-in-his-shoes hobble-dehoy, who owned one of the fleetest horses in the country. What his motive may have been I know not-whether envy at the magnificent appearance of Abdallah, or a desire to hear a second discourse from the stranger. Whatever it was, Hans mounted and put after him. Gradually he gained upon him, and the prospect was that Hans and the minister would ride to the Kroutdale church, some seven miles, in company. Abdallah, however, was not disposed to be sociable, or perhaps he misunderstood the object of his purPricking up his ears as Hans drew near, he increased his speed. Hans did the same, and gained upon him. The minister endeavored to rein in his steed, but the more he tried to make him slacken the more he would n't do it, for he heard his pursuer close behind him. Hans began to feel indignant, and applied the spur; the clergyman, by voice and strength of arm, used all his efforts to stop his charger, now fairly excited, and apparently determined not to lose the race. Presently his hat flew off, and all his skill was needed to keep himself from being thrown after it. And thus on they went, over the hills and through the valleys, mile after mile, in the blazing meridian sun of one of the hottest days in August; now a length or two apart, and now almost neck and neck, but Abdallah, with his theological freight, still ahead. suer. The good people at Kroutdale were lounging about the doors of their little chapel, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the new pastor; when, through the clouds of dust, bareheaded, and his horse in a foam, he made his very unclerical appearance, and the graceless Dunderspeiken just behind him, who reined up at the meeting-house door, and cried out, in the hearing of the gaping crowd, "I give it up, Domine; you've won the race. MORAL.-Never mount a steed on Sunday that you are not able to manage. [For the National Magazine.] The next day,—not when Charley saw her, however,-Myrie gathered the pret HASTY WORDS, AND THEIR APOLOGY. tiest bunch of flowers she could cull from BY ALICE CARY. all her choice collection, and sent it to the indisposed Luther. Was it in the hope TYRIE sat at the window of her pretty they would wake “disagreeable associa work now and then down the walk; it was time for Charley to come home from the village. She had not waited long (for Charley was a good husband, and never kept her waiting long) when she heard his quick step coming up the walk. "I have kept you waiting, Myrie," he said, shaking back his curly hair; "but never mind, I have brought you something that will more than pay you. I waited for the mail, and here is Luther Brisbane's prize-essay." He threw it in her lap, and went on: "Put down your work, my dear, and read it; everybody is praising Luther, and I almost feared to bring you this, for it throws me all in the shadow; indeed, Myrie, I don't know how it was you ever saw anything in me to admire!" He spoke lightly, but the moisture came to his eyes, and affirmed that he was not idly depreciating himself. "O Charley," said Myrie, putting the grand essay aside, and her arm about his neck, "I should love you for your generosity, if you had not one of your other thousand good and admirable qualities." After a moment she added, "Luther is not great enough to praise you; but no matter about him at all; let us go water the flowers while the tea is making." And in their cheerful and healthful occupation they presently forgot all about Luther Brisbane; and when, the following evening, Charley read the prize - essay aloud, Myrie said she had not thought of it since he brought it home. If Luther could have heard her say so, he would have taken another upward step, perhaps, in his long and bright progress. When Mrs. Brisbane came to drink tea with Myrie she said she had hoped to bring Luther with her, but that he had been complaining all the day of headache, and did not look a bit well, poor boy-and besides, he had taken a long walk in the morning, and felt quite overcome. Had he seen Myrie's white curtains gleaming through the roses, and heard the music of her voice as she called across the hill to the good and loving Charley? Perhaps so. had so far outgrown her childish fancy as to regard him only as a sick neighbor, whom she would fain do kindly by? Why should we pry into what it does not concern us to know? Let us for once leave vulgar curiosity, and receive simply that "Mrs. Robinson sends Mr. Brisbane some flowers, with her very kind regards." So the errand-boy said, and that is all we have to do with it. Daily Luther made long walks about the neighborhood, and on each return his mother inquired whether he had been to see Myrie; and again and again he replied that it was too late or too early, or that his walk had been in a different direction; and perhaps these answers were all made in good faith-at any rate, it does not concern us to know. His stay at home was brief, and his visit confined chiefly to his parents, avoiding all society in as far as was possible. The momentary enthusiasm created by his prize-essay went down wonderfully during that brief visit. He was grown so unsocial, the villagers said-too proud to recognize them any more. What else could they infer, seeing not the heart of the young man, and how indifferent it was become to all things. One young lady of the village, who had admiringly read the essay half a dozen times, growing enthusiastic at each reading, and essaying her own powers on some too ambitious theme,-which, alas! only showed how insufficient, as yet, her mind was for her task,-resolved that Luther should be brought within the magic circle of female influence; and, after a great deal of coaxing of the old folks, leave for a little merry-making was obtained. But vain are all human calculations, as the ambitious young woman found; for after all the preparation, and all the expectation, there came at the latest hour, and when hope was weary with standing tiptoe—not Luther, but a message from his mother, saying that increasing debility had hurried his departure beyond his design. She was only comforted for his absence-for he was gone, perhaps, for years—in the hope of his restoration to health. |