From Gisborne to Melbourne.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume X, Issue 1073, 13 May 1882, Page 2

From Gisborne to Melbourne.

[Written for the Povkuty B.ir Standard.] No. VI. (Continued from our Last). Tilt exterior of Christchurch cathedral will, I fear, always be more attractive than the inside, at least unless a large alteration and improvement takes place. What there is built so far, is well enough ; but somehow or other, people who live many years in New Zealand, are so apt to think their geese swans, that no comparison can be instituted between their geese and other people’s swans, unless it be with an obvious disodvantnge to the latter. A good deal has been said and written about the cathedral spire—its beauty, height, magnificent proportions, and what not; but the Christchurch men may be surprised to learn that one denomination alone—the Presbyterians—possess in the “ Scots* Church ” here in Melbourne, a spire that is not eclipsed by that of the Christchurch Cathedral, while the conventicle itself possesses (both externally and int ernally) beauties of outline and architectural taste which the said cathedral never was designed for. In fact Christchurch cathedral is a fair sample of the mess most Anglican church congregations make of their edifices. They aspire to lead the way to Heaven, amidst a host of parade and ostentatious pageantry, which clog the wheels of progress ; tie them still firmer tu the earth, and land them in chronic misfortune and debt. I forget how many years Christchurch cathedral has been in course of erection, but. one if not two generations have come and gone since the flourish of ecclesiastical trumpets brayed out the laying of the foundation stone, and if it. is finished before two more decades, it will be the wonder of all who live to sec it, and know its history. Ah I 1 are said tl e outs'de of Christ •hureh cathedral is its chief attraction, it commands a prominent position, almost central in the city, and its loftv spire forms a landmark for many miles round. It also possesses the advantage of a clear s]>ace around it, with a fine broad pavement for the convenience of the large number of pedestrians that promenade there, and otherwise use it of an evening. Latimer Square joins Cathedral Square, in the centre of which is a small grass plot, fenced in and containing a statue erected iu honor of the name of one of the promoters of the original Canterbury settlement—John Robert Godley. The new Post and Telegraph Offices form part of the outer circumference of the Square, the two Squares together—speaking with the usual paradoxical incorrectness—forming an oral, and is a pleasing break in the otherwise somewhat dull monotony of narrow streets, still narrower footpaths, and low-built, dark-look-ing shops. But it is time wc entered the cathedral. I attended the services both morning and evening, and, not to be too hypercritical, I must say I was sorely disappointed. I must, however, be hypercritical to a certain extent, for I am visiting these institutions with a resolve to gain knowledge, and to draw conclusions and comparisons. The outside temperature was hot and dry, as is usual in your climate in the month of February ; therefore, that of the inside was gratefully coo), but dark and musty —quite sufficiently so for me to form an opinion of what danger worshippers are exposed to, who sit out a service on a cold winter morning. There is a charm of simplicity about the internal architecture that would better become a second-rate gaol than a cathedral, the cold-looking stone buttresses, and castellated flooring—quite innocent of matting—providing the necessary feeling of discomfort to make one wish himself elsewhere. The floor space, capable of seating 1,400 persons, is covered with the meanest, and most poverty-stricken articles in the shape of chairs, I have ever seen. There is a kind of soup-kitchen, or other benevolent institution appearance about them that consorts, ignobly, with one’s notionsand experiences of cathedrals in other lands. These chairs stand in rows, according to the length of the space they fill, and are connected with each other by a 3-inch batten running along their backs, and which, forming rests for the sitters behind, are more or less covered with dirt. These battens are in the rough, and are as roughly nailed on to the chairs. The chairs themselves are of a light-painted color, and seated with a common rush-like looking straw—just the sort of thirfg one would expect to find in an hospital, or lying-in institution ; and as one reflects that he, or she, is not in either of those places the thought becomes as uncomfortable as the seats are unsightly. As a consequence of the structural poverty of the chairs, they oscillate and creak with the movement of their occupants, like a weak jointed clothes basket, the peculiar squeaking of which, coming, during the quiet portions of the service, from all parts of the building, has a ludicrous effect; and one feels constrained to sit still, probably with great personal inconvenience, rather than be subjected to the suspicion of being the author of noises, which, to say the least, are capable of being misunderstood. I shall not dwell on the service, as I do not wish to wound the religious susceptibilities of any who may read my remarks; but if I was disappointed with the building, I was more so with the ceremonial of our grand old Liturgy. From the beginning of the final Amen, “intonation,” 88 it is called is the mode, the key note being set in something like G double sharp, with a great deal of miwr about it, and

the major part of which is a kind of hybrid cross between a costermonger s nasal chant, and the suppressed “ moaning of the tied in a kennel. Oh, Lor’, w: at between the creaking of the chairs, and these clerical discordants, I began to wonder what the English service, as we knew it in our boyhood, was coming to. I have slightly over-run events, in their chronological sequence. The opening ceremony commences with the Lsher —or Verger—of the black rod, clad in church liverv, with a long stick in his hand—a kind of ecclesiastical Sergeant-at-Arms—at the ceasing of the tolling of the bell, placing himself at the head of the procession about to issue from the vestry. At the order “by your right; slow ; march ” (which by the way T did not hear given) the congregation (or audience, I am not sure what the modern appellation is) rises en masse, and remains standing until the officiating ministers, of which there were no less than four, and the choristers have taken their places in the choir chancel. These deferential observances over, the whining begins, and if. to my previous comparison, I add the resemblance of the “ intonation ” to a New Zealand “ tangi ’’—minus, of course, the surroundings—you can judge in what a delightful row, modern church worshippers couch their supplications. The choir contains no females, and principally bovs, with a sprinkling of men with bass voices. The singing was of the usual cathedral character, but, with one exception, this was nothing of a more than mediocre quality. That exception was a youth of about 15 or 16 years and the possessor of the m< st lovely voice I ever beard. He sang solos in the mornu g and evening anthems with ange’ic sweetness. Had 1 not been assured of his sex by those who are attracted weekly to hear him sing. I should have doubted that he was a lad; still there was a roundness and body, so to speak in is organ, that a girl of the same age would not possess. I listened enthralled ; and. although since then, I have heard New Zealand s and Australia’s great favorite—Mrs Palmer/ce Hosina Caradini. in that Heaven-inspired anthem “Take not Thy Holy Spirit, from Me,” and manv others—in Melbourne, music accompanied by almost divine cadences of the 1 uman voice, seldom has seemed to be so Jnvi' i' g and clear.