But besides the above objection to Mr. Lewis's theory we may mention the arbitrary way in which he determines on things which are to be symbolised, and then violently endeavours to find their expected types. This is quite at variance with the practice of any sober symbolist; and more especially (as we shall hereafter have occasion to point out) with that of Durandus. This forced sort of symbolism naturally leads to a disregard of precedent and authority: and accordingly we remember to have heard of a design by this gentleman for the arrangement of a chancel which professed to symbolise certain facts and doctrines; but which, whatever might be the ingenuity of the symbolism, was no less opposed to the constant rule of arrangement in ancient churches, than it was practically absurd and inconvenient for the purpose which it was meant to answer. Indeed, while Mr. Lewis insists strongly on the symbolising of facts, he does not succeed in grasping any general principle, any more than he sees the {xxxiii} difficulty there is in the way of our receiving his supposition of an intention to symbolise from the first. No architect ever sat down with an analysed scheme of doctrines which he resolved to embody in his future building: in this, as in any other department of poesy, the result is harmonious, significant, and complete, and may be resolved into its elements, though these elements might never have been laid by the poet as the foundation upon which to raise his superstructure. That were like De La Harpe's theory that an epic poet should first determine on his moral, and then draw out such a plan for his poem as may enable him to illustrate that moral. [Footnote 8] [Footnote 8: It is with pain that we have spoken of Mr. Lewis at all, because every Ecclesiologist owes him a debt for his great boldness in turning the public attention to the subject of symbolism. Yet we believe that a prejudice has been excited by him against that subject which it will be hard to get over; for we are constrained to say, that greater absurdities were never printed than some which have appeared in his book. His explanations of the west end of Kilpeck church--his cool assumption when any bracket appears more puzzling than usual that it is of later work, and therefore not explainable--his random perversions of Scripture--his puerile conceits about the door--deserve this criticism. This same south door he extols as a perfect mine of ecclesiastical information, while he confesses himself unable to explain the symbols wrought on the two orders of the arch--that is about two-thirds of the whole! It is strange, too, that in his restoration of the church, he should have forgotten all about the bells--and have violated a fundamental canon of symbolism, by terminating his western gable in a plain Cross.]