"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:—

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

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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.