Stones of the Temple; Or, Lessons from the Fabric and Furniture of the Church
Tekst CHAPTER XVII
THE PULPIT
"Because the preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, and set in order many proverbs."
Eccles. xii. 9
"Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray."
Goldsmith's Country Parson.
"Resort to sermons, but to prayers most:
Praying's the end of preaching."
George Herbert.
"It's curious to note," continued the Vicar, "how the Pulpit and the Gallery have kept company in rising higher and higher. At first the pulpit was placed at a moderate height above the congregation, and then the church improvers (?) were usually contented with erecting a small low gallery at the west end of the church81. It is true, that was bad enough; for in order to construct it, it was nearly always thought necessary to fill in the tower arch and to hide the western window – often the most beautiful features in the church; and then the organ was taken up into this gallery, and the singers followed it; and nothing, you know, could be more inconvenient than that those who help to lead the services of the Church should be behind those they profess to lead. But when people had once tasted the luxury of sitting in a church gallery, the demand for it rapidly increased, and my Lady Pride, who had very comfortable crimson-cushioned seats in her box at the theatre, could not be content without an equally comfortable and elegant box in the gallery at her church, where she could see all the people quite as well as in her box at the theatre, and had such a good view of the pulpit and its occupant, that, with a good opera-glass, she could even read the manuscript from which the clergyman was preaching. As the taste spread, of course galleries multiplied, and not only extended in a lateral direction over all available parts of the church, but sometimes mounted up one above another (as witness many of our London churches) till they almost touched the very roof. Indeed, to build a new gallery was one of the most popular things a local magnate could do; and even Members of Parliament, who desired to make sure of their next election, could hardly adopt better means for recommending themselves to their constituents than by disfiguring their church with one of these hideous structures, and recording the same on some conspicuous part of the church82. But worse still; these galleries were sometimes even still more nearly connected with the political parties of the day. I know one church83– and that is not the only instance – in which are galleries, having complete opera-boxes, furnished with luxurious chairs, stoves, &c., and every box is a two-pound freehold, and the boxes are, from time to time, advertised for sale, with the inviting recommendation that each one gives a vote for the county. One great piece of presumptuous vanity connected with these galleries, is the numberless instances in which the names of churchwardens, that otherwise would have been unknown to fame, have been emblazoned upon them."
"You remember, no doubt," said Mr. Acres, "the inscription, in large gilt letters, that covered the front of our old gallery – 'This gallery was erected A.D. 1716, Thomas Grubb and Matthew Stokes, Churchwardens; enlarged, and newly painted and ornamented, A.D. 1760, Peter Jenks and Samuel Styles, Churchwardens.' I believe I have read that inscription thousands of times, and those names used even to haunt me in my dreams. Had those churchwardens been four of the greatest saints in the calendar, it would have been gross impiety to emblazon their names so conspicuously as thus to force them upon one's notice during the whole service. If, however, tradition does not speak falsely of them, those men were by no means too correct either in their private life or in their parish accounts. But let them be never so good, people who go to church for Christian worship, don't wish to have the names and exploits of these worthy or unworthy men staring them in the face every moment they are there. But I beg your pardon, Mr. Vicar, I interrupted you when you were speaking of the pulpit."
"Well, you know, when the gallery had reached the ceiling, it could go no higher; but then its upper tenants could no longer see the preacher. So the pulpit rose too, and, to enable all to see it, sometimes took its place just in front of the altar, so as completely to hide that from most of the congregation; nay, I have seen it even over the altar itself84. Then the prayer-desk came climbing up after the pulpit; and then the clerk's desk came creeping up below them, till that, too, became one of the most conspicuous and important objects of the church. Thus the three together grew into that clumsy, unsightly mass which has been not inaptly called the Three Decker!"
"Ah, I shall never forget poor old Mowforth's perplexity," said Mr. Acres, "when he looked about for his peculiar box in our restored church. First he looked doubtingly at your prayer-desk; then he examined the lectern from which you read the lessons; then he looked with some faint hope at the pulpit; at last he came to me, and said, 'Please, sir, which of these is to be my place?' and his look of dismay was indescribable when I told him that, as you intended that henceforth the choir should lead the responses, he would be absorbed in the congregation, and would in future be able to take his place with the rest of his family. But the man is a sensible fellow, and he confessed to me the other day that he considers the new arrangement a great improvement, and wonders that the people could have so long endured the duet service in which only the voices of the parson and himself could be heard. But we have again wandered a little from our subject. Let us go back to the pulpit; it must have a history of its own, like every other part of the church. Will you kindly enlighten me and our friend here on the subject? for it must be one of much interest to us both."
"Well – to begin at the beginning – I suppose we must look for the origin of our pulpits in the 'brazen scaffold' which Solomon set 'in the midst of the Temple85,' and the 'pulpit of wood86' from which Ezra read the Book of the Law.
"There are in this country many very beautiful examples of ancient pulpits; these are, with but very few exceptions, constructed of stone, and very generally of the same date as the church itself. Sometimes they were erected outside the church87, but usually in the place where we are still accustomed to see them. Sometimes stone pulpits were quite separate buildings, erected in some much frequented place, usually near a cathedral or other church88. 'In the ancient rites of Durham there is mention of a "fine iron pulpit, with iron rails to support the monks in going up, of whom one did preach every holiday and Sunday at one o'clock in the afternoon." This was situated in the Galilee, or western division of the church, which was open to the public even when the entrance to the rest of the church was interdicted89.' Although the most beautiful pulpits, both ancient and modern, are of stone – many of them being richly carved and inlaid with costly marbles – yet the greater number of the more modern pulpits are made of wood90. By an injunction of Queen Elizabeth in 1559, pulpits were ordered to be erected in all churches91, and by a canon of 1663 it was ordered that pulpits should be placed in all the churches of the country not already provided with them. The pulpits then erected were in almost every case made of wood, and their pattern has since then been generally, though by no means universally, followed.
"A curious appendage to the pulpit sometimes found is the horologium, or hour-glass. Whether this was placed there for the information of the congregation as to the progress of the hour, or to teach them its own solemn moral, or as a guide to the preacher respecting the length of his discourse92, I cannot say. Another adjunct to the pulpit is the sounding-board, or, as it should rather be called, the lid or cover of the pulpit; and a thing more useless, and usually more ugly, one cannot conceive93. It certainly always seems to me rather to impede the sound of my voice than to assist it; and then it has, to say the least, a most uncomfortable appearance; and though I never heard of the accident really happening, yet it always appears to me to be on the point of falling and crushing the poor preacher below it. It is not, however, difficult to trace the origin of these covers to the pulpit; they were really necessary where the pulpits were separate buildings– as at St. Paul's Cross – in order to protect the preacher when the weather was inclement. At St. Paul's Cross, and at the Cross Pulpit at Norwich, and probably elsewhere, not only the preacher, but also the audience, were provided with such a shelter94."
"Will you kindly tell us," said Mr. Dole, "why you discarded the large handsome velvet cushion that was once on your pulpit, and have, instead, adopted the embroidered piece of velvet which now hangs in front of the pulpit?"
"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 voice95; 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 preacher96; 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.
"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 commendation97 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 lives98. 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 up99. 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 thoughts100?'"
"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 poor101.' 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 poor102?' 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 poor103,' 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."