Ecclesiology, besides its sentimental connection with ecclesiasticism, possesses many features which render it the most popular branch of the great all-embracing science of archaeology. The objects with which it is concerned appeal strongly to the senses; the finest works of the architect, the limner, the silversmith, the engraver, the embroiderer, the illuminator, and the musician, come within its scope; they are accessible to all who live within reach of an ancient church or a moderately good museum, and the pleasant excursions and companionships with which its votaries are favoured invest its pursuit with the happiest associations. Above all, it lacks that terrible obstacle which lies at the threshold of almost every other subject of serious archaeological study—the necessity of attaining perfection in at least one foreign language. No one can form more than the merest _dilettante_ acquaintance with the antiquities of India, Egypt, Greece, Ireland, or any other country, without mastering the language in which the records of the country are written; but the merest smattering of mediaeval dog-Latin is quite sufficient to open the door to high (not, perhaps, _the highest_) attainments in ecclesiology. These manifold attractions have resulted in hampering the study of ecclesiology with a serious drawback, which is wanting in nearly all the other branches of archaeology. The investigation of the marvellous antiquities of the four countries just mentioned—or, indeed, of almost any other country—can be undertaken by a student with the certainty that if he applies himself to it sufficiently to master the many difficulties which will, no doubt, present themselves, he will be in a position to break ground as yet untouched; his knowledge will enable him to make original discoveries of his own. But it is far otherwise in ecclesiology. So easily understood are the facts of the subject (except in a few obscure points relating to the early Church); so definite are the statements of the numberless records, when the vagaries of symbolical theorizers are sifted away from them; so countless has been, and is, the army of students, that the scope for research-work is reduced to a minimum; hardly anything is left for the originally-minded worker but to discover the personal names of the different artists whose handiworks he sees before him, or else to propound some startling and revolutionary theory respecting the use of low-side windows or Easter sepulchres.