BELLS OF ST. CLEMENTS.

Otaki Mail, Volume 26, 29 September 1919, Page 4

BELLS OF ST. CLEMENTS.

ARCHDEACON'S SERMON ON ‘.'ORANGES AND LEMONS.” While the motor buses were rumbling i along the Strand (states a London paper of recent date) and shaking the church to its very foundations, a few surpliced men and boys gathered in a circle beneath the belfry of St. Clement Danes, chanting pscans of peace and blessing. The eight bells of St. Clement'*:?, which are about to be rehung, lay on the floor in the middle of the choristers, entwined with leaves and white flowers and with real oranges and lemons resting upon them. ■ Little children from the,parish school came to hear the blessing and the sUry of the bells from the Archdeacon of London. ‘‘We most solemnly bless these bells in the name of St. Clement Danes," he said; and then a voice was i heard above the rumbling of the motor buses: ‘‘Almighty God, Who by the mouth of Thy servant Moses, didst command silver trumpets to be sounded for the convocation of solemn assembles, grant that these bells through this generation and through those that are to come may continually call together Thy faithful people to praise and workship Thy Holy Name.” Then, as the choir boys moved slowly up the aisle, there rose a sweet jingling round from the organ loft. The chimes of St. Cleincut’s, which have been heard over London for centuries, were being repeated once again on a tiny peal of hand-bells played by four men of the church. It was as if the dumb tongues of St. Clement’s had been suddenly loosened and were speaking in the voice of the past. The Archdeacon went into the pulpit and told the children the story of the bells. ‘‘ We meet in an historie church to bless these historic bells uj)on an historic occasion,’’ ho said; and the text ho chose, was, “ ‘Oranges and lemons ’ says the bells of St. Clement’s.” It was strange to hear the old nursery rhyme bciug recited from the pulpit; but it was not incongruous, and the rhyme went on:

‘‘Lend me five farthings,” Gay the bells of St. Martin’s. ‘‘When will you pay me?” Say the bells of Old Bailey. ‘‘When I am rich,” Say the bolls of Shoreditch. He adjured the mothers of the children to preserve the sanctity of the nursery rhyme being recited from the pulpit of St. Clement’s.