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."
"Heartily glad, I'm sure, my friend here must be to part with the old
_half empty packing-cases_, and to see proper benches in their place.
And as you have been kind enough to listen to me so far, I will just say
a few more words to explain the two desks which the Vicar has placed in
the nave of your church, and of which I heard you had disapproved. One
is the _Litany-desk_, or _faldstool_[121],--as it is called in the
Coronation Service. The Litany is a very solemn, penitential service,
and from very early times it has been said from the appropriate place
where the Vicar has placed the Litany-desk in your church--namely, just
at the entrance to the chancel. Its position there has reference to that
Litany of God's own appointing, of which we read in the Book of
Joel[122], where, in a general assembly, the priests were to weep
_between the porch and the altar_, and to say, '_Spare Thy people, O
Lord_.' In allusion to this, our Litany--retaining also the same words
of supplication--is enjoined, by the royal injunctions[123], still in
force, 'to be said or sung in the midst of the church, at a low desk
before the chancel-door[124].' The other desk is called the _lectern_,
or _lettern_, and sometimes the _eagle-desk_; and, as you are aware, is
the desk from which the lessons are read. They were first made of wood,
and often richly carved; afterwards they were commonly made of brass or
copper. They were first used about the end of the thirteenth century,
and although most of our country churches have been despoiled of them,
yet they have never ceased to be used in our cathedrals, as well as many
other churches[125]. The desk is often supported by a pelican feeding
its young with its own blood, the emblem of our Saviour's love; more
frequently it is supported by an eagle, the symbolic representation of
the Evangelist St. John. It is true that both the faldstool and the
lectern have long been unknown at Droneworth, yet I feel sure you will
not, on second thoughts, consider the restoration of such convenient and
appropriate furniture as objectionable."
The two late dissentients agreed that as they had overcome the greater
difficulty, they should withdraw all opposition in the matter; and, it
being now late, the party broke up, each one feeling glad that a good
thing had been done on a good day.
_CHAPTER XX_
THE AISLES
"Praise ye the name of the Lord; praise Him, O ye servants of the Lord.
Ye that stand in the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of
our God."
Ps. cxxxv. 1, 2.
"Three solemn parts together twine
In harmony's mysterious line
Three solemn aisles approach the shrine,
Yet all are one."
KEBLE.
Illustration: Castle Cary Church
THE AISLES
Mr. Beeland accompanied his two friends some distance on their way home.
"I remember noticing," said Mr. Acres, "that the pews of your two
parishioners very much blocked up the _centre aisle_ of the church;
their removal will much widen the aisle, which will be a great
improvement."
"Forgive me for correcting you," said Mr. Ambrose, "there can be no such
thing as a _centre aisle_. You are speaking of the centre _alley_ or
_passage_. The word _aisle_[126] can only refer to the wing of a
building, and it always denotes that portion of a church which runs
laterally north or south of the nave or chancel. I see, Mr. Beeland, you
have some work to do in that aisle of yours before your church will be
in good order."
"Yes, that is my greatest remaining difficulty. I have observed that
those of the congregation who occupy that aisle are far less attentive
and devotional than the rest; and the reasons are obvious. They are cut
off from the main portion of the church, not only by the high backs of
the existing pews, and by the hat and cloak rails which run from pillar
to pillar, but also by needless masses of modern masonry. Moreover, they
can see nothing of that part of the church which is sacred to the most
solemn offices of our worship. Then, again, what the people _do see_ is
enough to divert all devotional thought and feeling from any but the
_most_ seriously and religiously disposed."
"You mean the hideous heathen monument which occupies the east end of
the aisle. If I remember rightly, it is a sort of monstrous Roman altar,
with four huge bull's heads at each corner."
"Yes; it is in the centre of a mortuary chapel, once belonging to a
family named Bullock, and their frightful crest, in gigantic
proportions, is the one object on which the eyes of at least a third of
our congregation must rest, if they open their eyes at all. I can hardly
conceive any thing more calculated to deaden the fervour of Christian
worship than an object like this placed before the gaze of the
worshipper. Much as I object to the bare walls of Dissenting
meeting-houses, and the many-altared aisles of Roman Catholic churches,
I believe neither are so distracting to the minds of the congregation
generally as are the mortuary chapels, with their uncouth _adornments_,
which occupy so large a space in the aisles of many of our own churches.
Unfortunately, this chapel now belongs to a young man who has recently
seceded to the Church of Rome, and he will neither allow me to
appropriate for the use of the parishioners any of the space we so much
need, nor will he consent to have the unsightly monument removed to a
less conspicuous place."
"The bitter hostility to wards the Church of their baptism, and the
utter absence of Christian sympathy in good works of this nature, which
characterize so many of those who have fallen away from our Communion,
is indeed most deplorable. But even if your unreasonable and
narrow-hearted parishioner will oppose all improvement in that part of
the aisle which--stolen from God and His people--he claims as his own
private property, there is much you can do, when you set about your work
of restoration, to make that part of the church less isolated than at
present. At least, you can remove much of the useless wood and masonry
which now separate the aisle from the nave."
"I propose also to re-open the ancient hagioscope in the south wall of
the chancel, by which means the people in the aisle will once more gain
a view of the altar, and be enabled to see and hear the priest when
officiating there."
"Will you kindly tell me, Mr. Beeland," said Mr. Acres, "what are
_hagioscopes_[127]? I never remember having heard the word before."
"You probably have heard them called by their more common name of
_squints_. They are openings in the north or south walls of the chancel,
or perhaps more commonly in the walls supporting the chancel arch, and
are intended to give a view of the altar to those who are worshipping in
the aisles. They are to be found in most old churches, but they have
commonly, as in our case, been bricked up. It is manifestly very
desirable that in all cases they should be restored, not only on account
of their architectural beauty, but also for their practical utility in
the services of the Church."
The party then separated, and the Vicar of Droneworth took back to his
parish a lighter heart than he had known for many a day.
_CHAPTER XXI_
THE TRANSEPTS
"Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary."
Ps. xcvi. 6.
"Pace we the ground! our footsteps tread
A cross--the builder's holiest form--
That awful couch where once was shed
The blood with man's forgiveness warm,
And here, just where His mighty breast
Throbb'd the last agony away,
They bade the voice of worship rest,
And white-robed Levites pause and pray."
HAWKER.
Illustration: Church of SS. Peter and Paul, Ringwood
THE TRANSEPTS
"Much of the objection which you have expressed to the prevailing
arrangement of the aisles," said Mr. Acres, continuing the conversation
with his Vicar, "seems to me to apply also to that of the transepts--I
believe that is the proper name for those portions of a church which
extend in a _transverse_ direction north and south?"
"Yes," replied the Vicar; "and the remedies for the evil are in both
cases nearly the same. Great inconvenience often arises from the
exclusive character of the parclose. I would have the solid part of this
made lower, and the upper part more light and open."
"Pardon me, my friend, but I am ignorant as to what you mean by the word
_parclose_."
"I refer now to the screen which encloses the chancel on the north and
south sides; but I believe the word may apply to any screen in the
church. By means of these screens, however, the persons in the transepts
are needlessly excluded from a view of the altar."
"Yes; but the change in them which you suggest would not fully meet the
difficulty, even if a squint or hagioscope should also be provided."
"I see that," said the Vicar; "and for that reason I would, as a rule,
only have those portions of the transepts nearest the chancel fitted
with permanent seats. On special occasions chairs could be placed in the
back parts; or, perhaps, the whole of the transepts might be given up to
the children of the parochial schools, the elder children, who could
best understand the nature of the services, being placed in the front."
"A very proper arrangement, indeed, I should think, for all of them
would be able at least to _hear_, and they would be conveniently placed
for assisting in the musical parts of the service. It has often struck
me as the refinement of cruelty to place these children in the remote
damp corners of country churches, where too often they are to be found;
or, worse still, in the topmost galleries of city churches, where the
air they breathe is heated and impure. In both cases there is a manifest
unconcern as well for the temporal as for the spiritual welfare of these
little ones of Christ's flock."
"To whatever use, however, they may be applied, or even if they are
entirely unappropriated, so far as regards affording accommodation for
the congregation, I would, by all means, wherever practicable, retain
the transeptal arrangement of our churches, not only as being the most
ornamental form of structure, but as preserving in the entire building
the distinct form of the _Cross_; and as symbolizing in the gathering
together of each congregation of Christ's Church--which is _His Body_,
that Body itself. Thus the nave represents the body, the transepts the
outstretched arms, and the chancel--being the most excellent part of the
church--the head[128] of our Lord. Some perhaps might think it fanciful,
but to me there is something very solemn and beautiful in the idea, not
only of the church's whole fabric assuming these symbolic forms, but
also of the united prayers and praises of the congregation making, as it
were, in their very sound _the sign of the Cross_."
"I think so too. And to my mind it has always seemed that the grand
symbolism which looks through, as it were, the _whole_ fabric of the
church, and the _whole_ congregation therein assembled, was formerly
much marred in our churches, when there were _many_ altars, dedicated to
_many_ saints, instead of the _one_ altar, which we now only retain,
dedicated to the _one Head_ of the Christian Church."
"Yes; and your remark, of course, applies specially to the _transepts_
about which we were speaking, since even in our country churches every
transept had its separate altar, the _piscina_ attached to which is
still to be found in almost every old church."
"I suppose," said Mr. Acres, "that beautiful Gothic niche in our south
transept which you recently restored is a _piscina_?"
"Yes, it is. The piscina was always placed on the south side of the
altar, and it was used chiefly as the receptacle for the water used in
cleansing the sacred vessels, or for that used by the priest in washing
his hands[129]. It is to be found in our earliest Norman churches, and
evidently dates from the time of their erection. There is often a
_shelf_ placed over the basin of the piscina, which was used as a
_credence_[130]."
"We heard much about the credence-table some time since," interrupted
the Squire, "when there was a suit in law about this and some other
matters; but I confess I am still ignorant as to the purpose of the
credence-table."
"It is usually a small table, or, when forming part of the piscina, a
shelf, on which the elements intended for use at the Eucharist are
placed before their consecration. Just before the prayer for the _church
militant_ in the Communion Service there is this direction: 'The priest
shall _then_ place upon the table (i.e. the altar) so much bread and
wine as he shall think sufficient.' Now, you see, it would be very
inconvenient, and a sad interruption of that part of the service, to
bring these from a distant part of the church. The ancient custom,
therefore, of placing the elements on the credence-table at the
commencement of the service is most convenient for the proper observance
of this rubric. And so, although the credence has only been preserved as
an interesting relic, or ornament in other parts of the church, in the
chancel it has been preserved or restored[131], as being still a most
useful and important part of the furniture of the church."
Having now arrived at the vicarage-gate, the two friends bade each other
good-night.
_CHAPTER XXII_
THE CHANCEL SCREEN
"The vail shall divide unto you between the holy place and the most
holy."
Exod. xxvi. 33.
"I love the Church,--the holy Church,
The Saviour's spotless bride:
And, oh, I love her palaces
Through all the land so wide!
The cross-topp'd spire amid the trees,
The holy bell of prayer;
The music of our mother's voice,
Our mother's home is there.
"I love the Church,--the holy Church,
That o'er our life presides;
The birth, the bridal, and the grave,
And many an hour besides!
Be mine, through life, to live in her,
And when the Lord shall call,
To die in her--the spouse of Christ,
The mother of us all."
_Christian Ballads._
Illustration: Church of St. John, Walworth
THE CHANCEL SCREEN
Perhaps, gentle reader (all readers are supposed to be "gentle,"--they
_ought_ to be), if you live in a retired village, you will find that in
the course of many years, your village annals present little or nothing
worthy of record, as matter of general interest or importance; you will,
therefore, understand how that the past six years at the little village
of St. Catherine's have been so uneventful as to be noticed only by a
blank in our narrative. But now, on this twenty-sixth day of June, in
the year 1866, an event of no common interest in a country parish is
about to take place.
Since their first meeting, four years ago, at the vicarage of
Droneworth, a close intimacy had grown up between the families of Mr.
Acres and his neighbour Sir John Adamley; the upright integrity and
manly candour which marked both their characters soon begat a deep
mutual respect, which, in course of time, ripened into a warm
friendship, now about to be sealed in the marriage of the Baronet's
eldest son Egbert with Mr. Acres' eldest daughter Constance.
The place is all astir betimes. Early in the morning a merry peal is
sounding from the old church tower, and many hands are busy in
decorating with flowers and evergreens arches placed at intervals
between the church and the Hall. It is by no order of the Squire or his
steward that these arches--erected at no slight cost of money and
labour--are put up; they are the spontaneous expression of the interest
which the villagers themselves take in the day's rejoicing. There are
William Hardy, Robert Atkinson, Mr. Dole, even old Matthew and his
grandson, and indeed half the village, as busy as bees in and out of the
church, vying with each other in their endeavour to make every thing
look bright and joyful. Every one has put on something gay and
cheerful, purchased specially for the occasion; there is the light of
honest gladness on every face; and now that the children with their
baskets of fresh flowers stand ranged on either side of the pathway that
leads from the main road to the lich-gate, the scene is one of the most
picturesque that can be imagined....
"Does Mr. Ambrose particularly wish that the first part of the service
should take place near the _chancel screen_?" inquires Sir John.
"Yes," answers the Squire; "it is always the custom here, and I think
you will afterwards acknowledge that this arrangement is very fitting
and appropriate; and, indeed, adds not a little to the impressiveness of
the ceremony."
"I can quite imagine that; but what authority has the Vicar for the
practice?"