Stones of the Temple; Or, Lessons from the Fabric and Furniture of the Church

Part 9

Chapter 93,851 wordsPublic domain

"Well, as a matter of taste, I think you will agree with me that the present beautiful frontal, with its richly-embroidered cross, is an improvement upon the old cushion. But I discarded the old big _pillow_--for such, indeed, it was--not only because it was unsightly, but also because it was useless, for my head is not so much more tender than that of other persons, that I, any more than they, should require a pillow to rest it on during my private devotions; and as I am not accustomed to perform the part of a mountebank in the pulpit, or, as some say, to use much _action_ when preaching, I need no such protection in order to preserve my limbs safe and sound. But, besides this, there is a manifest objection to these huge cushions; undoubtedly they tend to impede the sound of the preacher's voice[95]; so I was very glad to get rid of your handsome cushion, and adopt our more convenient and more beautiful pulpit frontal."

"I often think," said Mr. Acres, "if the old pulpits could speak, what a strange account they would give of the various preachers that have occupied them. Take our own old stone pulpit, for instance. In early times, of course, there were only sermons at long intervals, perhaps often dependent upon the occasional visits of some old preaching friar. At length there came the quaint old Homilies of the Church; then there came an interruption to all true religion and order, and the old pulpit poured forth the mad ravings of the fanatical Puritans who got possession of it. Now and then came a noisy soldier to hold forth, and there was--as our old registers show--the _Reverend_ Ebenezer Bradshaw, the Presbyterian, who left his snuff and tobacco shop to enlighten our poor benighted people; next came the _Reverend_ Obadiah Brent, late of the 'Green Dragon,' the Independent preacher; and then the _Reverend_ Jabez Zanchy, the baker of Starchcombe, the Anabaptist preacher[96]; then there was a century of long learned essays freely interspersed with Greek and Latin, so that, if the prayers were said in a language 'understanded of the people,' the sermon certainly was not. Following upon this came what we may call the _muscular_ style of preaching--usually extempore--requiring the pillows of which you have been speaking to save the knuckles of the preacher from entire demolition. Thank God, amid these many changes, there have always been some good men to be found in our pulpits; but, for my part, I like the quiet, sober, persuasive style, which--saving your presence, Mr. Vicar--I am thankful to say, characterizes the sermons at St. Catherine's. I think sermons cannot be too _practical_; and, whilst they should be addressed both to the heart and the intellect, they should most of all be designed to touch the _heart_."

_CHAPTER XVIII_

THE NAVE

"My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of Glory, with respect of persons."

S. James ii. 1.

"At length a generation more refined Improved the simple plan.... And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stuff'd, Induced a splendid cover, green and blue, Yellow and red, of tapestry richly wrought, And woven close, or needlework sublime."

COWPER.

Illustration: St. Mary's Church, Sherborne

THE NAVE

"Ah, Mr. Beeland, I'm so glad to see you!" said the Vicar, as, on leaving the church, he met his neighbour the newly-appointed Vicar of Droneworth. "I have been much grieved to hear of the sad opposition you have had to encounter in restoring your fine old church; but this was sure to be the case in a parish like yours, which has been so long neglected; indeed it must be so, more or less, in every parish, so long as there are people who honour themselves much more than they honour God; and such, I suppose, there will be till the end of the world. You may be sure, my friend, the woe of universal commendation[97] never yet fell upon any _church restorer_."

"Never, certainly. But what makes our position often so difficult and so painful is the fact that, whilst we are fully sensible of the rectitude of our own course, we cannot help, to some extent, sympathizing in the feelings of those who blame us. For instance, in almost every case of church restoration it is necessary to disturb a large number of human bones, and yet we can but sympathize in that feeling of respect for the departed, which sometimes expresses itself in the most strenuous opposition to any work involving this painful necessity. Then, you see, there is the rooting up of long-cherished associations. We have a case in point close at hand. There's the grand old church of Rainsborough will be left in its miserable condition so long as the present Vicar lives, and for no other reason than this:--ten years since he lost a favourite daughter, and she had always been accustomed to sit in one particular corner of their large pew." Now the Vicar fears (and no doubt justly) that should the church be altered, the old pew with its fond associations would be swept away--and so the church will never be improved as long as he lives[98]. We must respect the old man's tender love for the spot sacred to the memory of his dear child, yet we plainly see it is all wrong that for the sake of the private feelings (however praiseworthy) of any one person, God's house should remain in a state of neglect, and the poor should be uncared for therein. This, however, is an oft-told tale. But most of all, we have to contend against _wounded pride_ in its most cherished strong-hold--alas!--the Church of God; and the enemy is all the more fierce because it is prostrate.

"My two great opponents, Sir John Adamley and Mr. Parvener, are to meet me this evening, and I am come to ask you and Mr. Acres to walk back with me to Droneworth, so that I may have the benefit of your support. You see these two gentlemen had pews in the nave of our church, lined, cushioned, and carpeted in dazzling crimson; each pew was as large as a good-sized room, and the two occupied nearly half the nave. Mr. Parvener was generally at church once on a Sunday, and then he sat not only in luxurious ease, but also in solitary dignity. Sir John never came to church, as there was some old feud respecting the right owner of his pew; but the door was always locked, and a canvas cover was stretched over the top. These precautions, however, failed to keep out an occasional intruder, and at last the door was securely _nailed up_[99]. The worst of it was, that all this time there was not a seat in the church which a poor man could occupy with any chance of either seeing or hearing the ministering Priest. Now people talk about _proper_ distinctions in church between the high and the low, and we sometimes hear much about old ancestral pews. Believe me, it's all nonsense, my dear sir; the distinction is _solely between riches and poverty_. If a man has plenty of money, he may (or rather, till lately he might) secure the biggest pew in England; and if he has not money, though he be entitled to quarter the royal arms on his escutcheon, he will get no pew at all. Mr. Parvener is an exact instance of this. But a few years since he was working for half-a-crown a day. No sooner did he become wealthy than he obtained a large pew at our church, whilst its former owner, whose fall had been as complete and rapid as was the rise of his successor, was driven to a remote corner of the church allotted to degraded poverty."

The walk to Droneworth was soon accomplished, but the Rector with his two friends only reached the Parsonage a few moments before the arrival of the two aggrieved parishioners. It was evident from the first greeting that they had come in no friendly spirit. But few words passed before Sir John came direct to the object of the interview.

"The purpose of our visit," said Sir John, "you are aware, is to protest against the removal of our pews at church, and to declare our determination to have them replaced if it is possible."

"But, gentlemen, you are aware that we have provided good accommodation for you in the restored church," replied the Vicar.

"Good accommodation, sir!" exclaimed Sir John. "Why, you have given us nothing but low wooden benches to sit upon; and, to add to the insult, sir, there is not the semblance of a _door_; so that our devotions may at any time be interrupted by the presence of an inferior. Why, sir, the very labourers, who earn their half-crown a day, have seats in the church just as good as ours!"

The last sentence made poor Mr. Parvener writhe a little; and that indeed was its real intention, for the two neighbours had, in truth, little love for each other. The words, however, accomplished another and a better purpose; they broke up at once any thing like united action on the part of the opposition.

"Let me ask you, gentlemen, a very simple question," said the Vicar. "_Why should not_ the labourer have as good a place in God's house as yourselves?"

"You might as well ask," said the Baronet, "why they should not have as good houses as we have."

"The cases are in no way similar. You live in better houses than the poor, simply because your worldly means enable you to do so; but I have yet to be taught that in the Church wealth is to be exalted and poverty degraded. No, Sir John, be sure this distinction is out of place _there_. We go to church to _worship_ and to _learn_, and if favour is shown to any class, no doubt it should be to the ignorant and the poor; but this is a matter on which we are not left to our own judgment. There are not many instructions in our Bibles as to the manner of arranging our churches, but here the direction is plain and unmistakable."

"Indeed, sir! I had no idea that any thing about church seats was to be found in the Bible."

"Oh, but indeed there is. The passage to which I refer is in St. James' Epistle; and it is this: '_My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of Glory, with respect of persons. For if there come unto your assembly a man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment; and ye have respect to him that weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him, Sit thou here in a good place; and say to the poor, Stand thou there, or sit here under my footstool: are ye not then partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil thoughts[100]?_'"

"If those words are in the Bible, I must confess the Bible is against me; but I had no idea that they were there."

"I assure you they are the exact words of Holy Scripture."

"It's clear enough to me," interposed Mr. Parvener, "that the labourer ought to have as good a place at church as the lord. I don't think the church is the place to show off aristocratic pride. Why, for that matter, there's many a man that doesn't know who was his grandfather doing more for the glory of God and the good of his fellow-creatures than your grandest aristocrats." This was intended as a counter-thrust, and it created a wider breach in the enemy's camp. "But," continued he, "I don't see why, if all have good places in the church, we should not make our own seats as comfortable as we can."

"Ah, but there comes in just what St. James tells us we ought to keep out: the distinction between _riches and poverty_, distinctions which among our fellow-men have their advantages, but not before God in His house. Just hear what St. James says again: 'Hearken, my beloved brethren, Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which He hath promised to them that love Him? But ye have despised the poor[101].' I was much struck with a sermon I heard the other day on this subject. The preacher said, 'If our Lord Jesus Christ were to enter some of our churches just as He went to the temple at Jerusalem, do you think He would take His seat in the luxuriously furnished pew of the rich, or in the open bench of the poor[102]?' Now, let me ask you too, Mr. Parvener (for this is, after all, the sum and substance of the matter), do you think that He 'who was rich, yet for our sakes became poor[103],' and whose life was a perfect pattern of _humility_, would sanction the distinctions which either pride of station, or pride of riches, would create in the House of Prayer?"

"Well, sir, I must say that's a solemn question, and it sets one a-thinking more than I have thought before about this."

"But, Mr. Beeland," said Sir John, interrupting, for he saw the ground of his arguments was slipping from under him, "you will acknowledge that these open benches in church are a _novelty_, and you often talk to us about keeping to the _old paths_. Now, here you are teaching us to strike out a new way altogether. I wish I knew something more than I do about the history of these pews."

"I anticipated some such remark from you, and knowing that my friend Mr. Ambrose is more learned than I am in all these subjects, I induced him to join us this evening, and if he will kindly give us the benefit of his information, he will, I am sure, convince you that _pews, and not benches, are the modern innovation_."

"If you can have patience to listen to me," said the Vicar of St. Catherine's, "I will gladly give you the history of pews, as far I know it."

_CHAPTER XIX_

THE NAVE

"Take theses things hence; make not My Father's house a house of merchandise."

John ii. 16.

"Not raised in nice proportions was the pile, But large and massy; for duration built; With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld By naked rafters intricately cross'd, Like leafless underboughs, 'mid some thick grove, All wither'd by the depth of shade above, ... The floor Of nave and aisle, in unpretending guise, Was occupied by oaken benches ranged In seemly rows."

WORDSWORTH.

Illustration: All Saints' Church, Bradford

THE NAVE

"In order to trace the history of pews[104] to their first source, I must, as Mr. Beeland has hinted, go back to a time when pews, as we now see them, had never been thought of. It is pretty certain that the first seats in churches were stone benches placed round the north, south, and west walls, portions of which are still remaining in many old churches[105]. In some ancient churches in Ireland the stone bench has also been found adjoining the _eastern_ wall, the altar being placed a little distance before it. In those early times people were far less self-indulgent than at present in God's House, and the usual custom was to stand or kneel during the whole service. The first wooden seats were small stools, each intended to seat one person, and placed in the nave as suited the convenience of each occupier. Then came plain benches, and next, benches with backs to them. The priest's _reading-pew_ was probably the origin of all pews. They seem to have been unknown in any form till the end of the thirteenth century, but the earliest record we have of a pew is 1602[106]. Next to the 'reading-pew' came the 'bride's pew[107],' the 'churching-pew,' and the 'churchwarden's pew.' In the nave of Little Berningham Church, Norfolk, is a pew erected by a shepherd; a skeleton carved in wood is fixed at the south-west corner of it, and these lines are carved on the pew:--

'For couples join'd in wedlock; and my friend That stranger is: this seat I did intend, But at the coste and charge of Stephen Crosbee. All you that do this place pass by, As you are now, even so was I-- Remember death, for you must dye, And as I am, soe shall you be.

'Anno Domini, 1640[108].'

The general adoption of pews began with Puritanism, and with its increase they too grew in width and stature. First of all, people were satisfied with the uniform arrangement and space of the old oak benches, only erecting on the top of them an ugly and useless panelling of deal. This was bad enough, but worse soon followed; and, to make the seats more luxurious, first one bench was taken away, and the _two benches_ made _one pew_; then two were removed, then three, till at last it required the removal of _six benches_, which formerly would accommodate thirty persons, to make _one pew_ to accommodate two or three. Now, either men are giants in these days and were pigmies in those days, or else the pride and luxury of man claim a prominence now in God's House, which was quite unknown then. I will ask either of you, gentlemen, to decide which is the true explanation."

"I fear it must be against ourselves," said Mr. Parvener.

"I fear so, indeed[109]. But now let me explain to you more fully what are the real evils of this wretched pew system. And first, as to the _private pew_--for, besides sharing in the evils of _all_ the rest, _it_ has some peculiarly its own. Of these, the _pride_ it fosters, and the '_respect of persons_,' so severely condemned by St. James, are the worst. My dear sir, I assure you it has often made my blood boil to see some poor old man with his venerable bare head exposed to the cold draught of a neglected part of the church, whilst a young, pampered son of fortune has been cushioned up under the stately canopy of his own pew[110]. Oh, sir, I'm sure you must agree with me that this is altogether against the spirit of Christianity! I'm no leveller _out of church_; the social distinctions must be there kept up; but _in God's House_ these should have no place at all. Then, surely, the _luxury_ of many of these private pews is altogether inconsistent with the object of our meeting in the House of Prayer. It is--as it shows the progress of luxury, and its concomitant, effeminacy--a curious circumstance, that when the custom of having pews in our churches began to spread, they were, by our hardy ancestors, considered as _too great indulgences_, and as temptations to repose. Their curtains and bed-furniture, their _cushions_ and _sleep_, have, by a long association of ideas, become intimately connected. The Puritans thought _pews_ the devil's _baby_, or _booby hutches_[111]. I have heard that in America they go even beyond us in the luxury of pews, and that in Boston some of them are actually lined with _velvet_[112]. I believe that both there and here the private pew system has done very much, not only to force the poor from the Church, but to drive many of all classes over to dissent."

"I can't see how that can be," said the Baronet.

Why, "naturally enough, sir, for they find all this the very opposite to what the Church professes to be and to teach. They see the rich exalted, and the poor debased; they find a house of pride, instead of a house of prayer.

"The _exclusiveness_ of this system is one of the most curious as well as absurd features in its history. True, the change in our social habits has created a change for the better here; but much of the old temper survives. You would hardly believe, perhaps, that years ago it was not only considered an impropriety for the squire and the dame to sit in the same pew with any of their inferior fellow-worshippers, but the presence of their own children[113] was even considered an indecent intrusion. This was, indeed, ridiculous; but, in truth, the whole system would be monstrously grotesque, were it not so very wicked.

"There is a curious inscription on an old seat in a church at Whalley, which seems to throw some light on the early history of private pews; it is this:--'My man Shuttleworth, of Hacking, made this form, and here will I sit when I come, and my Cousin Nowell may make one behind me if he please, and my sonne Sherburne shall make one on the other side, and Mr. Catterall another behind him; and for the residue, the use shall be first come first speed, and that will make the proud wives of Whalley rise betimes to come to church[114].'

"The first seat thus appropriated was, no doubt, a rude wooden bench; but certain it is, that no sooner were even these claimed as private property than _quarrelling_ began[115]; and the quarrel has, alas! been kept up to our own day. The right to these _faculty pews_, as they are called, is, however, in most cases very questionable, and often leads to costly law processes[116]. Many sensible men and earnest Churchmen are giving up their supposed right to them, and are contented to take their place in church like _ordinary mortals_. I sincerely trust, gentlemen, this may be your case.

"Now, let me notice a few of the evils which are common to _all pews_. They tend to destroy the _unity_ and _uniformity_ of common worship, which forms so grand a feature in our church system. 'They are very inconvenient to _kneel_ down in, necessarily oblige some to sit with their backs to the speaker, and when they rise up, present a scene of confusion, as if they were running their heads against one another[117]. As God's House is a House of Praise and Prayer, so before all things the arrangement there should have reference to the proper _posture_[118] of praise and prayer. Then see how these pews shelter and encourage _levity_ in God's House. As long ago as the year 1662, a bishop of Norwich wrote this satire upon pews: 'There wants nothing but beds to hear the Word of God on. We have casements, locks and keys, and cushions--I had almost said bolsters and pillows--and for those we love the church. I will not guess what is done within them: who sits, stands, or lies asleep at prayers, communion, &c.; but this, I dare say, _they are either to hide some vice or to proclaim one_[119].' I will only mention one more objection to pews: they harbour dust and dirt[120], and otherwise disfigure the beauty of our churches."

"Well, Mr. Ambrose, I must confess myself brought to the same opinion as yourself," said Sir John, "and the reformation of the evil may commence at Droneworth to-morrow without any obstacle whatever from me."

"Nor yet from me," rejoined Mr. Parvener: "I certainly never heard the case fairly stated before, and now I have, I own I'm convinced."