"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.


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.